His chest rose and crashed like waves on sand.
I lied awake listening to both,
nestling in by his side, catching his heat in mine,
cold air whistling through the damp nets of our tent.
The embers had cooled,
my giggling friends gone in slumber.
All I knew was myself,
drippy nose, eyes open, tasting the dew of the hidden moon
and my tender midnight fear.
Sometimes I like to keep the flashlight a glow
a little longer than needed
so I can lay there wondering, without falling asleep,
if I'll ever feel normal in the wild.
That night there were horses licking the bottom of my steel pan,
and old fears washed up on the shore with the shells.
The shells--the shells spoke to me with fury,
writing messages beyond paper, beyond words.
I listened, as the waves gave their soul to the sand,
as the clouds kissed purple through the sky,
as my own teeth calmed their chattering mistrust.
I lay awake next to my love,
eyes open to the peaking and retreating night.
I lay awake there in silence,
tasting strength on my tongue,
hearing songs of powerful wind--
thanking the Wild Surrender,
that I could just as soon, call my own.
Just as soon as the geese call bridges
their staircase to the sky.
2010 was the most love-filled year I can remember. It wasn't without tears or anxiety or complete nervous breakdowns. There were plenty of those! But for each one, there were equal nights standing at the kitchen counter holding a dear one's hand as one of us shed those tears or confessed our aching. There was communion and listening and no-words-needed and just the right touch. There was real deep love. Love that's taken years to form and grow comfortable in. Love with housemates, best friends, new friends, strangers, Brian, and my very own heart. Love that I am so so thankful for and will never take for granted.
I chose "daring" as my word for 2010, and a daring year it was. I dared to spend a month away, re-learning what it means to feel joy. I dared to quit my soul-sucking marketing job and embrace my inner-educator and entrepreneur. I dared to read my poetry to strangers, sell my art, and begin the vibrancy that is now Small is Beautiful Arts Collective. Brian & I dared to defy norms, having a pot-luck, grass-roots, no isle or officiant, "love-fest" wedding. I dared to take my dreams more seriously in so many ways that are still unfolding as we speak. And I committed, full-heartedly, to our unbelievably daring 7 month bike adventure across and around the USA.
The funny thing is, if 2010 was full of daring experiences even before the bike trip, what could I possibly hope for in 2011?
Power. Power to do or act--to accomplish something. Power to choose how I experience my experiences. Power to change and power to accept. Power to speak and power to inspire. Power to move, push and breathe from one place to another. Power to practice without ever needing to make perfect. Power to believe that even without knowing how, even without feeling strong, even without any certainty or understanding, there is a divine power greater than I that is working on my behalf, and rooting for me (all of us, really) all the way. Power to feel gratitude for all the beauty that surrounds us--but most of all, for the way it emboldens us with courage to step into every ounce of divinity we carry.
2010, thanks for such big love. 2011, I'm ready for you. I'm ready for your power.
If I could give anything to the people I love this holiday season, I'd give openness to change for the better. I'd give courage to embrace the immense power within. I'd give trust to take care of each others hearts and our own. I'd give hope that trusting won't be for the worst. I'd give joy as we travel our journeys, no matter where they take us.
But sometimes all you can really give is understanding. Compassion extended from your heart to theirs. Empathy and the patience to be with whatever, however. Deep knowing that we're all in it together, each struggling in our own unique way to make peace and be love. These things take time and gentleness, and they don't come from nothing. But they're not impossible.
Each day we have a choice, no matter our circumstances: to see or to shield, to judge or to gaze softly, to accept or to resist, to act or to shut down.
Some days we bounce between choices like a ping-pong ball--unsure which side of the table we'll fall from, until by the slightest stroke of chance and skill, one side wins.
The winning team isn't always love--even for the most skilled players. But it's not all about winning, is it?
Because we're all really on the same team, aren't we? The team that wants, more than anything, to be seen, heard, respected and cared for. The team that doesn't want to divide and conquer, but wants to unite and uplift. That's us--the humans. We're mostly common people, wanting common decent things. We can be in it together, if we choose to be.
Wishing you these things this year, because they're possible, because you're worth them, and because even when they don't come true--we have each other to fall back on. We have each other to unite again and try again, for the ideals we were meant to embody. For a kinder kind of love. Let's do this thing.
you believed that whatever power you have right now is enough to make a real difference in the world?
you don't need to know how to begin in order to begin?
your fear is smaller than your divine purpose on earth?
you stopped holding on to stories that keep you small?
you're being held by something greater than you?--what if we all are?
you believed that perfection is overrated and you are enough?
you knew that there are no mistakes that will kill you?
you opened your heart to tenderness and forgiveness?
you decided that nothing matters more than choosing love over and over again?
you knew how much you have to give?
would you begin giving?
if you're here tonight feeling the profound need to step into your power--the power that knows, wholeheartedly, how much you have to give--know that you are not alone, sweet friend.
it's easy to forget and there are 1,000 things we could blame for our forgetting: the job we don't have, the pay we're not earning, the help we're not seeing, the system that's not supporting us, the sleep we're not getting. i see it. you're talking to an anti-oppression, anti-capitalist socialist over here. these things are true and there is plenty lacking. but amidst all that's lacking and all the ways we're made to believe that we are broken, hopeless victims to life, what if we believed that our race is stronger than that? that our spirits are fiercer and our souls wiser than believing the lie that we are powerless? what if we revolted, together, with tiny acts of courage in the name of hope, in the name of kindness, in the name of the kind of humanity we want to belong to?--a powerful, generous and loving one.
i'm asking myself these questions tonight and finding daring answers. are you with me? will you answer this first question, too?
what if you believed that whatever power you have right now is enough to make a real difference in the world? what kind of difference would you make?
i really hope you share your answers with me. i've got something brewing that i'll share with you, too as soon as i can. i would love it if you let me know that i'm not in this process alone! remember, when you dare to take your power seriously, you can do powerful things. i'm so looking forward to revealing our power together!
The other night, Brian and I watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind for the first time since the beginning of our relationship. Back then I had little belief in true lasting love. Really. I was a hopeless romantic full of doubt. I wanted to be in love so badly, but I was terrified of coming close to it. Coming close to love had a way of triggering all my worst fears... If I start to love someone they surely won't love me back, If I want to be loved I can't be authentic, If I let my true self show it won't be enough, I am incapable of loving without judging and my judgments will ruin you, me and our love so let's just quit while we're ahead, I will break the heart of anyone who falls in love with me.
I can wholeheartedly say (and have said to many people) that Brian picked up all my shattered pieces and taught me how to love. And he did it by accepting me. He sat with all my neroutic fears and bundles of terror. He saw through them to the heart of who I was--a brave and hopeful girl who wanted to be in love but wasn't quite sure how.
I will never forget those nights, my first semester of college, sitting up late at night on his twin bed in his tiny apartment room, street lights flooding in through the blinds, tears flooding down my face and Brian simply listening. Those nights saved me. They gave me the chance to expose all my broken parts and have them held in tenderness. It was the biggest relief.
Us back then
But still, I tried to break up with him over and over again -- for no rational reason except that I was terrified, and that changing habits takes time. When that happened, he'd look me in the eye and ask, "How long do you want to hold on to your fear? You could refuse to commit for the rest of your life in the name of fear. But one day, you'll be ready to choose. And that day, you'll realize it's not all about who, but what. Love or fear. Do you love me?"
I did. I loved him so much and I knew it in my bones. It wasn't about him. It was about my inability to say "okay" to my terror. It was about my resistance to the way things were.
But Brian sat with me. And sitting with something, as is, will do incredible things. Open you to tenderness. Open you to the truth. Open you to acting with love over fear.
We watched Eternal Sunshine the other night, it hit me in huge ways. This is a clip from the very end of the movie. To catch you up to speed, in case you haven't seen it, Clementine and Joel fall in love, but after a year or so, Clementine decides erratically after a fight that she wants Joel erased from her memory completely. Joel finds out and decides the only way to cope is to do the same. The movie mostly consists of their beautiful memories as they're being erased by special neuro-docs. After both of their memories of one another have been erased, they re-meet and fall back in love. Only, a woman working for the memory doctor sends all past patients, Joel & Clementine included, tapes that were recorded pre-memory erasing, explaining why they wanted to erase that person from their memory. Leading up to this clip, Joel's listening to the tapes of what he said about Clementine, and she hears them. They're nasty and broken-hearted sounding. The way you would talk about someone who's hurt you so badly that you want them erased from you memory. But he's hearing them for the first time--his memory of her and their relationship totally blank. Reel the clip.
This scene in particular brought me back to those late nights on Brian's twin bed. My terror surfacing, his acceptance saving me. My fear jumping off bridges, his patience catching me. The act of saying "okay" is no small thing. I might need to remind myself over and over again of how beautiful and inspirational sitting with the messy parts of being human actually is. How it was that very thing, offered up by someone else, that gave me the most powerful relationship I've ever known. And how it is that very thing that can take me to wherever I dream of going.
Acceptance. Saying "okay". Knowing it really is.
A new habit worth forming.
So--in the name of practicing, I'll offer up some truth of how I am right now, as is. And I'll offer it with a quiet prayer for acceptance... May I hold myself with tenderness for all the ways my being manifests, past, future and present. Amen.
achey
tired
nervous about money
nervous about always putting myself out there
wiped
pensive
hopeful
over it
ready to take a bath and go to bed
Dear souls, how are you feeling right now? Feel free to show your true self in the comments below. Sometimes it takes being seen and accepted by another to begin seeing and accepting ourselves. We can practice being seen together. I'll honor you as you are.
