I Will Not Wave A Flag

This is long....

worthwhile if you have the time available to slow down and read.

"Beyond attachment to flag and country, beyond identity and faith,

...here we are swimming in the one pool of possibility,

made from the one cell."

I can lose this mindset so easily.  Before I realize it, I'm

this label, and this label and that category...I do it to myself!

"I am, first, a citizen of the heart dwelling in the house of flesh."

All of us simply breathing, bleeding bodies living out whatever time and place

we landed in on this planet...sharing the same air, the same water,

the same ground, the same universe.

"If you insist on waving a flag, let it be exceptional in its width. 

In the eyes of [the Unknown] there are no favorites.

...Forget superiority and comparison."

It means including everyone and everything.

Why do I find that so unappealing...at least on one level...

very appealing on another, but darn...people need to learn how

to treat each other properly...with dignity, ideally, or if not...with decency.

"If you insist on having an identity, let it be of bone and blood. 

Let your song be equal parts praise and grief, and awe. 

How I love the recipe for singing as 

equal parts praise, grief and awe.

Mine wants to be gratitude, sorrow, and astonishment.

PS:  Hats off to you if you made it through this entire piece.  

No worries if you didn't.  

May the Force be with you always.

 

The Saddest Thing

"...stuffing the things that make you most you."

I'm fortunate to be in the company of people who do no such thing.

They are wise and open and themselves in all their messy glory

and it is beautiful.

"leaving the mud, the soil, the seeds, the sea of what's here."

This is where they live. 

River people, seed people, bird people, plant people, book people,

warm hearted, compassionate, generous and kind.

Luxuriating in all of it.

"...holding in the holy rather than letting it breathe..."

The holy is a warm breeze surrounding them, 

like a cloud emitting a fragrance of fresh air and flowers, 

It is a pleasure to be in their company.

 

I Grow Tired

"Now is the time for foolish hope, for outrageous courage, 

for a belief that each of us holds a piece of the rope to freedom

if only we would tug it in earnest."

Oh for a rope...an actual rope, hanging within reach...

within literal reach for our weary earnest tugs...

I'd settle for a gong we could all sound simultaneously...

Our vote is our tug on that rope...

our vote is our sounding of the gong...

"...to rage against these feeble tyrants,

...until the water flows calm and even once more

over the face or the earth."

Call out to whoever or whatever you believe in...

or don't believe in...

that they may contribute to our cause.

Together we are a mighty force.

It's time for a recalibration.

 

Instructions Before Visiting Earth

"If you ever need guidance, simply slow down

your busy mind and bring your awareness

to the quiet place inside yourself."

I might remark that "simply" may be a stretch.

"Cling to nothing too tightly, even yourself,

and when its time to let go, let go with grace,

for nothing is owned, only borrowed."

Determining when its time to let go 

takes on new proportions as one 

ripens and begins to experience

the stark reality of what "letting go" 

requires of us. 

"Don't make a mess."

If you do make a mess, 

for heaven's sake,

 have the courtesy and decency 

to clean it up.

"You'll never get out alive and

time passes quickly."

Amen and Awomen to that!  

 

The Day Mary Oliver Died

Finally got a chance to watch the documentary on Mary Oliver this week.

How do you begin to thank someone who has brought such goodness into our world?

Listening to young students talk about what her poetry meant to them

was one of the most moving moments, among many.  She was truly remarkable.

"How would the sharp praise of her voice shape that long, 

slow exhale of becoming what so astonished her?"

May we keep her words alive in our hearts.

 

How Guarded Is Your Heart?

 

Still Safe

"I am still a container, not a spill."

Good heaven's, it is disturbing to consider what 

some people are going through simply to live on this planet.

"...holding my breath to see if the air is still mine."

To live with such precarious circumstances 

lives only in my imagination...or it did until I read these words.

"Human's are the only things here that aren't made of stone."

Wasn't sure I agreed until I realized, I'm not where the author is...

it might very well be true where she is "subtracting the minutes

she's lived from what is left.".