Tuesday, November 3, 2026

Bad News Good News

So perpetually falling through the air
as a normal state of living?
And "there is no ground"
is the "good news"?

Can we discuss this?
Perhaps a conversation with
a skydiver who has experienced
the sensation of falling through air
before pulling their ripcord
can explain why this would be
a grand way to live?

I had a very brief experience of this
going backward on an escalator...
it was decidedly unsettling.
Not a state I'd want to be in permanently.
Thankfully, a stranger caught me.
It was a profound mercy.

I'm wondering if there had been no ground,
if that would have changed 
the sense of terror I felt?

I guess that's the point.
Enjoying the free fall of plummeting
toward the unknown without
the fear of being broken to bits?

It brings to mind the edge of the cliff...
will you fall or will you find wings?
I vote for wings.




 

Monday, November 2, 2026

All We Have To Do

Thich Nhat Hanh  always has comforting and
uplifting things to say, it seems.

"All we have to do is be ourselves,
fully and authentically."
I consider this a lifetime's occupation.
How much of ourselves do we really know?
How much is programmed by others?
It's a rich and fertile contemplation.

"We already contain the whole cosmos."
Ponder these words when you're feeling out of sorts?
Then take a long look at the sky, 
and the land and all its marvels.
Now look into a mirror...we need look no further.
For we are as full of marvels as the sky 
and all it covers, all contained within our own skin.
Ponder that.
You matter!





 

Sunday, November 1, 2026

Don't Pretend It Isn't Hard

"Let joy sit beside your pain - not instead of it."
Easier said than done.
I recently had an episode where an hour and a half
was lost forever due to one too many numbers 
in an insurance claim.
The person conveying the pronouncement 
was devoid of even a shred of understanding
seeming to relish her denial.

I was furious.  Driving home fuming, a voice
kept reminding me to look out at the gorgeous
autumn landscape and rejoice instead of rage.
It was asking for the impossible. 
Rage, pain and grief need time to expend their energy.

I'm thinking pain and joy are more like
night and day...each one fully themselves,
and when sitting next to each other, the sky turns pink.

"Because you can be grieving and still be grateful.
Exhausted and still hopeful."
Let's hold onto this as we face whatever lies ahead.





 

Thursday, October 29, 2026

Hope Watches

The gentleness of this touches me, 
chokes me up...
seeing each one of us 
"breathing on the glass, ...each of us writing our name"
with our finger in the fog on the window.

We won't give up.
We're in this together.
May our hopes join forces and cause 
a resounding crescendo of goodness.



 

Wednesday, October 28, 2026

We Must Learn

My hackles tend to automatically go up when someone starts telling me
what I "must" do.  However, in this case, I will put that aside and
acknowledge the wisdom in the words.

"it is only on the condition of humility and reverence
be[for]e the world that our species will be able
to remain in it."

Early on, I was taught that humility meant meekness.
That does not suit my understanding of what it means to be humble.
I had to do some digging to find a description of humility
that rings in harmony with my bones.  
Here is what I've come up with:
being humble is coming from the ground of on-your-knees awe 
 woven together with the honest acknowledgement of your unknowing,
your failings AND your consumate value and giftedness in who you are
and who you are becoming.
You matter and so does everyone else.

This was my favorite from others:
"Genuine humility means knowing and accepting who we are and who we are not; what we can do and what we cannot do. With this sense of personal clarity, we are able to see how we fit into the grand scheme of life, moving beyond ourselves to recognize, reveal, and revel in the greatness in others."




 

Tuesday, October 27, 2026

Self Blessing

"let the earth do what the earth does best, which is receive
whatever weight comes."
My body goes blissfully quiet as the words of this poem sink in.
The earth will receive whatever weight comes even as it
breaks my heart to acknowledge what that weight consists of.
May it transform and transcend the heaviness.

"may you carry within you all the quiet, all that glorious still."
This is my wish, my prayer, my desire for you, today and every day.
We're in this together.
I'm grateful for you.


 

Monday, October 26, 2026

Love Poem

How many of us are 
"shy and screaming for love and scraps"?

"when we offer our eyes, our ears, our soft hands, a few gentle words."
In an ideal world, this is the state I would live in permanently.
I confess I slip frequently and have to correct the course.
I count on these words I read and write to soften the harsh edges,  
and sharp tongue that intrudes every now and then.
A tiny, weak cat becoming a thick curl of satin sheen sleeping in the sun,
gives evidence to the possibility of significant change.
May we bear witness to this in the coming days.










 

Sunday, October 25, 2026

There Is Hope



First of all, I love that this is a collaborative poem.
It is an impressive and cohesive piece and I tip my hat 
to Messy Ink Poetry for the skill in putting it together.
Isn't it astonishing what a small group can create?

Every line sinks in with a sigh.

"Who would I have been if someone 
else's mistakes swum through my blood?

"sadness settling like dust in a neglected room;"

"inherited scars, silence and shame;"

"strange mathematics of making myself 
smaller for the comfort of others."

"there is hope in the unlearning
and in the quiet ache that begs me
not to stay silent"
I feel hope rise up reading these words.
Embrace the power of unlearning;
shaking off those well worn 
neural pathways carved by fear,
etching a different pattern into them...
realigning and recalibrating...
trusting the Universe and the unknown.
Give hope full permission to 
have its way with me.


 

Thursday, October 22, 2026

Parting The Branches

This gives me comfort.  I hope it does the same for you.
It's difficult when feeling silent, dark and heavy.
Easy to get accustomed to the gloom and forgetting
there is also singing, vision and flight 
nearby...often right outside the door...
where trees and bushes and flowers thrive,
even when they are dormant,
with no visible signs of vitality.

I'll leave you with this for the weekend
as October moves swiftly away...

Deep peace of the running wave to you.
Deep peace of the floating air to you.
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.
Deep peace of the shining stars to you.
Deep peace of the gentle night to you.
Moon and stars pour their healing light on you.

Deep peace to you.
Deep peace to you.
Deep peace to you.
~ Gaelic Blessing


 

Wednesday, October 21, 2026

Beyond Words


"River says it just by being a river, 
tree says it just by being a tree."

This entire piece 
is poignant, 
mysterious,
powerful 
to contemplate.

Let each image brought to mind by these words
take us to the place where words aren't necessary
and love is alive and strong.





 

Tuesday, October 20, 2026

Trip To Capital

I guess Lincoln must have known how fragile the union was.
Being born many years later and enjoying the period
after World War II when many countries got their
#$%& together and realized cooperation and good will
are much better tools for prosperity than greed, chaos and wars;
I lived in a bubble of confidence that my country 
was promoting decency and striving toward actual justice.
When Obama was elected, TWICE, I rejoiced
in the naive belief that equality was truly coming to fruition.
Do I feel foolish?  No!  I feel betrayed and grief stricken.
The stark contrast of decorous graves 
in a city built by the enslaved is a fitting description.

When I was in grade school, I found a copy of Gone With the Wind
hidden in my grandparent's "secret" closet.  I was transfixed.
I had no idea, until many years later, that it was a propaganda tool,
written from the perspective of a 26 year old, Smith college educated, 
white woman from Atlanta living during the Civil War Era.  
I don't believe she wrote it as a  propaganda tool, 
I suspect she wrote it as an understandably biased,
sincere report of her impressions and imagination.
 (But what do I know?)
 It was used as a propaganda too and I'm chagrined 
at how deeply I fell for it as another white American woman. 

Is it cruelty and meanness that leads people to believe
the sort of subterfuge handed out in propaganda?
Could it be sincere and well-meaning based on 
their lived experience and how they are experiencing their lives
and what they're hearing in their houses of worship and among their peers?
What does it take for people to wake up to decency and equality?
A lack of fear that they will lose something?  
That their way of life and in particular, their way of seeing their status
will be harmed by someone they've been programmed to look down on,
is a threat to them personally? 

This excerpt from Luterman combined with 
the reckoning I'm getting from our current day world
has activated many questions.  Too many for this blog
so I will leave this here.

Still more...if you can bear it!!
Approximately a week ago, I had selected this poem for today.
When I returned to the file to place today's commentary,
I was reminded of writing what follows back then.  
Clearly, this has taken hold of me with a strong grip!

"The lump in my throat is giant, with clouds of tears gathering behind my eyes 
as I read this and feel the sorrowful truth of it sink into my cells.
Grief over “the war-torn waste of generations ...a miasma rising
from cemented-over swamps...of this city, built by the enslaved; 
is here in my body, heavy and razor-edged, 
as I witness the damage from unhealed wounds infecting still more generations, 
not to mention our planet, with its poison.  
What will it take to heal us?  Is there a vaccine to protect against cruelty?
May my every thought, word and actions contribute to the antidote to this toxin."

Note: Clearly, something is happening here, I'm meant to pay attention to.
It's reached past even my faltering memory!! 
(Many thanks to Alison Luterman and to Heather Cox Richardson
for educating me past my trance of denial.)







 

Monday, October 19, 2026

The Un-Journey

There have been hours and days when I have been in this place.
Excruciating at first-the things I cooked up to distract myself
from the discomfort of this "un-journey".
Over time, it has gotten more familiar and a bit easier.

What I'm coming to realize is that it's ok to be fallow,
necessary even.  To do nothing, like the empty garden
or the leafless tree, is not nothing.
What you don't see on the surface is mighty.

I've learned I can trust the workings of the universe
inside my inner orbit, 
even when I can't immediately detect it.

Patience and trust are the qualities 
I've come to value more and more
as time grows short. 
They don't come easy 
for someone programmed
to get. things. done.

They don't come easy for someone who
hears "do something" and feels it
in her fingers and toes...with exquisite throbbing.
Steady on, woman, patience and trust whisper.





 

Sunday, October 18, 2026

Any Intelligent Fool

And there you go...a pretty accurate description 
of where we are in this moment of human history on Earth.
There's a sad amount of testimony to these words 
in scores of history books describing the past.  

I have yet to read one that doesn't
contain an overwhelming amount of violence.
If you know of any, please share.
(Rebecca Solnit is one exception who comes to mind,
thanks be to all that is good, for her work on the matter.)
 
"Intelligent fools" with capital wreaking havoc 
in the name of progress while those with a "touch of genius
and a lot of courage" operate valiantly in the wings.

It brings to mind the new book by Brent Martin,
William Bartram and the Nature that Could Have Been.

Has anyone written a textbook on those with this touch of genius 
who moved in the opposite direction?  
Many names come to mind as I write these words...I started
a list and had to stop...I'd run on and on and still leave some out.
I take a knee and bow my head in gratitude and reverence to their efforts.
Makes me wonder why we're in such a state with
so many voices calling us so eloquently from those wings?
Their words should be required reading for every person on the planet, 
taught in every curriculum!   Alas, just like the common plants
growing steady and quiet along the roadways, 
very few pay attention.






 

Thursday, October 15, 2026

Offering This Poem


"Look upon the world and nourish
the places that cry out for joy."
It doesn't have to be loud...
this joy we bring.
It can be quiet and gentle,
even silent...a meeting of the eyes,
a look of understanding, a glance
that says, "I see you".

"consider the truth that we might begin
with that small act of rebellion."
Kindness and respect when both are absent.
It matters...you matter.



 

Wednesday, October 14, 2026

The Loved Ones



These words give me pause...a long one.  
I read the words, again and again, thinking of  
loved ones who have died to this world.
Were they absent for a while?
My parents, two brothers, friends?
Have they come near me again?
I have not seen them in dreams,
( I seldom remember my dreams.)
I see them in my memories now and then.
Does that count?
And if I don't remember them there,
does it mean I didn't love them enough?
What a sad question, I say to myself.
I conjure them now as I consider this.
What about pets who have departed?
I have to ask.
I have not lost someone exquisitely close...
I cannot bear the thought...
and send it away immediately...

"They live now in the permanent world.
We are the absent ones."
This is comforting.

Still, it's easier to anticipate
returning to soil.










 

Tuesday, October 13, 2026

Solar

I must be the sun.
I... must be the one
This is no small ask...it makes me realize
how much I want someone else 
to pick up that torch
and carry it for or with me.  
I don't want to be the only one 
to do the heavy lifting.

I must be the one to simmer
in the piquant juices of possibility,
though the ingredients are unknown.
For some reason I cannot explain
this feels slightly easier and more doable.
Not that it's without its downside...
it requires staying with possibility 
through thick and thin...not relinquishing it,
most especially when things seem grim and foreboding.

I must issue forth a warmth
without discrimination, and any guarantee
it will come back to me.
This may be a step too far...being the light
has to bring at least an infinitesimal measure
of satisfaction. No one else has to know.
The person glowing needs a tidbit or two or three
 in order to continue shining.

I have to be at the very least
one stray intact ray
of local energy, one small
but critical fraction
of illumination. 
Being our most authentic
messy and magnificent self,
in whatever setting we're in
IS being the light. 
We're already shining.

I have to shine as if
sorry life itself depended on it.
I wouldn't call life sorry...although,
reading history, I might be tempted to
call human life sorry...for the ways
we treat each other and our home.
Regardless of the drawbacks, 
I consider life, in all its grift and glory
a gift of amazing proportions.




 

Sunday, October 11, 2026

We Don't Talk About War

It's hard to read words describing what
our sisters and brothers are living through.
The danger they are experiencing breaks my heart.

"We say we are fine, as if silence can keep us safe."
May it keep them safe...and may the silence
one day be made audible in a poem
so others can witness their troubles
and send empathy and compassion
to them over the invisible air waves
that join us all.

The sorrow is huge.
As is our caring and our hope
for an end to their suffering.

 

Little Hope

It feels very pertinent to 
"need a clean hard rain to wash away the world's troubles..."
We also need this clean hard rain to fill out rivers and streams...
to nourish our plants and trees...
isn't it wonderful that we benefited from this current "hard rain"?

May "hope itself gather in puddles overnight".
How I'd love to see giant puddles of water and hope
where children (and adults) can splash and play.


 

Thursday, October 8, 2026

Deep Peace


This is my wish for you today and every day....
along with a weekend of moments satisfying to the bone.

 

Wednesday, October 7, 2026

Every Shade of Necessary

Every fiber of my being leans into this...
wants this to be the state of things...
here and now...in every molecule 
breathing on this earth...
in the universe.

"How we need to begin fresh."
As much as I want to blame one person, 
or one group, or one "other" who isn't me,
when I do so, I lose the thread...
what if I were to pick it up;  tie a tiny knot and begin again 
to drop seeds of kindness everywhere, especially where
I am most reluctant to do so...especially in the
unkind places living inside me? 
Pat them on the head and repeat, 
"I get where you're coming from but
there's a better way."

"let us place the word precious on every single thing."
What if I were to begin to do this?
Attach the word precious to my rage, 
appreciate my heartaches,  every fear, 
every unkind thought and action,
every burning desire for revenge,
recognizing each as a misplaced kindness,
a misguided act borne out of love?
An opportunity 
to make a U turn, and begin fresh?