Thursday, March 31, 2022

Is Earth not enough?


 This is such a beautiful thought, I want to let it sink in 
and soak it up so it permeates my cells.
A "cosmology of care" for ourselves
and each other and Earth itself.
That defines a way of life 
deserving of deep practice.
It honors all that we do, 
including those under-appreciated, 
everyday tasks that sometimes feel 
mundane and insignificant.
The "sanctity and adaptive intelligence of evolution"?
Here again, to call evolution holy? 
That is a remarkable way to view it.
And "adaptive intelligence"?
Another stunning description to contemplate.
Everything in a perpetual state of change 
reaching toward being its best version of itself.
kastilwell


Tuesday, March 29, 2022

The Practice of Encounter


 I confess, I do not practice Encounter.  
I would say I tend to practice Avoid.
Perhaps due to introverted nature;
or perhaps due to finely tuned Armor.
To poise myself for Encounter 
is a whole new operation.
Bracing myself for feeling awkward.
Given yesterday's thought about
the importance of human to human connection,
it seems more than worthy of the effort.
kastilwell

Monday, March 28, 2022

Small Kindnesses

 
What a delight to be reminded of this truth today.
We contribute much to our world in tiny gestures of kindness.
"Fleeting temples" here and vanished in an instant,
yet carrying the power to endure
through the passing on of the light.
This is the power of human dignity.
This is the power that can save us.
This is the power that can save Earth.
Pause, notice, pass it on.
kastilwell

Friday, March 25, 2022

Entrust Yourself to the Waves

The older I get, 
the more I'm coming to believe
"entrusting myself to the waves"
makes the most sense.
Trying to manage things is 
something I do instinctively.
It does drain the life out of living.
To allow myself to become
like a river is an excellent exercise.  
Remembering to do so is the key.
kastilwell



Thursday, March 24, 2022

Maintain Sanity


 What a helpful thought this is.
It made me realize how many
fallen balls were distracting me.
It s well timed for me so I'm sharing with you.
kastilwell

Wednesday, March 23, 2022

Triumph in the End


I find the language somewhat dated and dense, 
but the sentiment is reassuring,
although, with climate change looming
I'm not sure we have 
"mitigated the waste and suffering" 
as much as necessary.
I want to share in his belief that 
"evolution of life on the globe" will continue
despite what feels like strong "conflict of forces".  
It is my fervent hope
he is correct that the
 "influences that favor life and forward it"
will triumph.
kastilwell

Tuesday, March 22, 2022

Here To Keep Watch


 These words carry much to reflect on.
I've read them several times and 
feel them sink in deeper each time.
Particularly--"best spent bearing witness to all we see:
honoring what we find noble, 
tending what we know needs our care..."
and then
"We are here to keep watch, not to keep."
I breathe those words into my lungs
and feel them mingle with my cells.
kastilwell

Monday, March 21, 2022

The Past



 

This seems fitting for the first full day of spring...
one added to the string I've had the privilege of living through.
I'm seeking to connect 
with "the clear water running through my veins."
And the same stars I witnessed as a child.
"The past" seems an insufficient name 
for the glory and sorrow, 
memories still present
lie beside those hidden from view.
kastilwell

Friday, March 18, 2022

You Darkness


 This braids together with 
the recent post about 
He saw the black of space as death,
which is accurate 
as encountering darkness
is a death to all we were before.
Rilke's poem gives the dark void
a deeper and even inviting dimension.
"Darkness holds it all."
Even though it feels 
scary and overwhelming,
I welcome "its great strength,
breaking into my body".
Although, I confess,
it's not without trepidation.
kastilwell


 

Thursday, March 17, 2022

We Decide Right and Wrong


 This is long and heavy but I feel like it's important.
I agree wholeheartedly with Baldwin that we are
"once and for all responsible to no one but ourselves",
for right and wrong and everything in between,
because there can be vast spaces in between.
It boggles my mind that human beings cannot agree on 
some tiny aspects of right and wrong but reality is evidence this is true.
Simple things like protecting yourself and others from germs comes to mind.
With that, I return to the thought that we're all doing our best
and our best is an awkward beginning.
kastilwell

Wednesday, March 16, 2022

Fragile Earth

I can't exactly explain why this affected me so much.  
It's been several days since I watched the documentary 
of WS taking his ride to space;  not my first choice of viewing options.
It keeps circling back so I'm sharing it.
His interview after returning to earth is
highly emotional and vulnerable.  
His description of how fragile earth looks
floating alone in the darkness of space
struck a strong chord in me.  
I feel as though it has seared into my brain.
kastilwell

 

Monday, March 14, 2022

Cheapest Room In the House


 These words set off a loud gong
 when I heard them repeated recently.
I love when certain words become a potent image.

I see an AirBnB with a dank basement cubby
next to the furnace and boxes of holiday decor
with the washer and dryer nearby.
Not at all inviting. 

I wonder what the "numb" room goes for?
(It might be identical to fear?)

What does a fearless room look like?
Top floor penthouse suite?
Or main floor chamber
with double doors opening onto a hidden garden?
Either will do in my view.

kastilwell


Friday, March 11, 2022

The Thing Is


 To shore up my courage and say yes again.
That is my intention and my desire.
I beseech the stone face in the mirror
and fall into a well of ancient tears
releasing them from the bardo
allowing them to cross the threshold
where they can flow freely and fiercely
joining the weeping river of possibility
hidden in the heartache
of hurting humans
hurting humans.

kastilwell


Thursday, March 10, 2022

A Debt Too Big To Ever Repay



Pausing to absorb the evolutionary role
trees contribute to human existence
leaves me breathless.

Think about walking into the ICU
and pulling the plug 
on the life support system
for your loved one.

I am visualizing a world
where everyone realizes
this essential truth.

Where trees are treated
as the valuable benefactors they are.
Treated with the recognition 
that they contribute 
the necessities of life.
kastilwell





 

Wednesday, March 9, 2022

The Forest Is Our Salvation


 I knew the forest was a vital part of survival.
After reading this book, 
I'm now aware is is not only vital,
it is essential. 
 Humans and animals cannot live without it.  
I now understand the physical pain
I experience when witnessing 
the desecration of wooded lands.
This woman has given us an amazing gift
with the knowledge she shares in this book.
Her words stand as a beacon
toward solving climate change.
May we listen
May we hear,
May we act.

kastilwell

Tuesday, March 8, 2022

Good News Tuesday

 

This affirms my belief in the river of goodness 
flowing underneath the noise 
we are inundated with 
in the frantic pursuit of
 attention, dollars and power
created by our capitalist system.
We need $$ to survive
but we're grossly 
out of balance in terms of true value.
This data gives me hope.

kastilwell



Monday, March 7, 2022

Our Grief Is Our Love


As difficult as it is, 
I'm asking myself if this isn't the time
for feeling the grief of what is happening
rather than trying to divert attention
to something more "optimistic"?  
How can we not grieve as we witness
our sisters and brothers 
fighting for their dignity,
their freedom, and their lives? 
What we are witnessing is 
the gruesome reality of
the patriarchy. 

My heart hurts 
for humans who are so filled with fear
they inflict such madness onto others.
My heart hurts doubly
for the recipients of their madness.

Let us imagine
a different way.
A friend dreamed 
the mothers and grandmothers of Russia
got into their cars and drove enmasse
to Ukraine to bring 
their sons and grandsons home;
away from the killing,
away from the violence,
away from the injustice.
And peace is restored for all.
I want that dream to be real.

kastilwell



Saturday, March 5, 2022

Day

 Another long one by Jorie Graham.  I couldn't resist sharing for anyone out there who finds her to be your cup of tea.

Day by Jorie Graham


 Here it comes now, at the last, the woodpecker.

It’s come from afar.
It’s put its beak in above my heart.
Lie still it says.
Very still.
Listen.
You loved the light, it says, of day.
You let it touch yr face all yr life & u never apologized, never felt
the distance in it—its howling—its gigantic
memory. You did not bury yr face in yr hands,
in the soil, in the grass with
gratitude. Something warbled.
Something flew past
in the air—a ravine quietly opened—water
deep in the earth narrowly
darted between rocks to
reach you. It was
wild. Your blood
took violent turns
left and right inside you—it gave you
time—
Now it drops
its needle in deeper.
You are dying it says. Maybe today,
maybe another. Rain is starting somewhere,
it’s coming down fast it says,
I’m busy it says,
I’m attending to shorelines I’d like to save,
its body like a small golden trombone,
its crest like a fretboard day cld be thrumming—as they are
friends—we’re from the same
district, it explains, we share hometowns,
we don’t want to ruin your day but we’re
busy. The needle is turning in me again.
It wants to play music I imagine.
It too wants to live its brief glorious moment,
right to the end please,
as a civilization might also like if possible,
right to the end,
the very end.
Is there a right end I ask the bird
as it bows from the waist over me, as if starting
to dance while
digging in deeper,
widening and opening the hole
in my heart,
dust all over the floor from its work.
What would have given you enough, it asks,
working furiously,
I think its face is puffed from the effort,
is daylight coming back again
for me I
ask, as someone adjusts the pillow under my head,
is this the end of the second
movement or the third
it says to the air—
do you still have another round of day in you?—
as they pull a wet cloth
over my eyes,
to clean them out I hope to myself,
that I might see once more
a bit of the something that blues-in softly
after furious night.
Is that a nurse now pulling at my neck,
is that a window coming clear or is it blank wall,
are those letters in the air spelling something firm even
possibly urgent
or are they just the bits & pieces of shadow
the pre-dawn world tosses
flagrantly around,
wasting nothing but making it feel
as if there were plenty, overmuch, endless—oh way more than enough to be
wildly wasted. I lift up my palm
and stare at it
as per usual,
as I have done for a thousand years,
& this nightgown believe me it is not satin
although it too makes its little music.
February 2022 I’m singing you out,
if nothing else let me finish my song.
I’m not enough but I
could have been less.
When it is done it cranes up and stares.
Its crest is stupendous.
Its stare is righteous.
You must have come from somewhere far away I think
as I’ve never seen the likes of you
around me
anywhere.
What do you think your strength is for, it asks—
what do u think yr intelligence is.
Surgical clips blink.
They imitate day.
Was it my strength which was my mistake, I ask,
yr back is golden and red,
yr feathers stretch into every direction, they point,
u could be mosaic, yr gold seems chipped from
what used to be Venice,
Torcello specifically, in the old world,
yr legs are rolled tight
into their sacred scrolls—
oh you’re done with something—I’m not sure what,
you’re done with the warnings & the
proclamations,
yr notebook is overflowing with second
chances. Now it is
silent. It has moved up. It pecks at the bone
at the back of my neck.
I lift my arm up
to try to
touch.
No pity anywhere.
It’s then I hear it, the first call breaking
what used to be dawn.
Will you let me hear it?
What will you hear this time it asks.
What will you make of the chorus
when it comes.
What will you make.
You had a lifetime
to get this story,
to write its long and bitter poem.
You had thousands of hearts, one for each day
which let you into its cool new body,
for free,
unstopped.
What will you make.
I saw you turn away.
I watched you arrange and rearrange your minutes.
Lie back down now.
Be very still.
I do not know
if you will be entertained again.
And it left then.
There was no weeping, just feathers passing.
And I am here now listening for day
with all I’ve got.
What have I got.

If you made it to the end, bravo!  It felt like my own life winding down and left me considering my lifetime of minutes and what I have made and will make with them with what's left of them.

Friday, March 4, 2022

Optimism


 I love the idea that persistence brought about
turtles and rivers and mitochondria (the power running us), 
not to mention figs.  

It brings home to me how important it is 
to remember we have the power
to adapt to change and evolve
into better beings. 

It gives traction to optimism 
when despair circles the premises.

kastilwell

Thursday, March 3, 2022

We Are Eroding. We are Evolving


 In my early quest to live with the contradictions
and the unanswered questions,
I had the mistaken notion 
it would be a simple shift of thinking.
I was not prepared for the stamina and strength required.
Eroding AND evolving is a great example
of living with the both/and instead of the either/or.
Finding the space within to live fully
with the vast range of elements, 
complexities and nuances
contained in one human existence
is the work of a lifetime.
Each one of us adds our own unique chapter
to the story.
kastilwell


Stepping Sideways


 I found much to ponder in TTW's book, Erosion.  
She is able to articulate emotions beautifully,
not to mention her descriptions of the wild; 
and, although much of it is difficult to hear,
she brings a tone of hopeful optimism
amidst the grim reality.
Her driving force is love, always love.
It gives me the courage to "step sideways
and create a different space".
I'm grateful for your presence in 
my "community of care".
kastilwell

Tuesday, March 1, 2022

Let The Darkness Be Your Bell Tower


 I thought I was familiar with all of Rilke's poetry
but this gem got by me.  
It leaves me speechless.
It feels as though I'm
the mystery at the crossroads
of my senses.
Waiting to discover meaning.
I flow.
I am.
kastilwell