Tuesday, January 27, 2015

How Do I?






As a child it was an easy question
It rose to the lips with little thought or care

How do I?

How do I feed myself?
How do I tie my shoes?
How do I breathe?

When the moments strung well past a million
I forgot how to ask
Instead I knew everything
And if I didn't, I'd figure it out on my own

When the moments strung well past 10 million
At the end of everything, I asked

How do I breathe?
Oh yes I remember
How do I smile?
Oh yes that's right
How do I dance?
Yes, just like this

When the moments strung well past 20 million
I asked again and again
How do I 
How do I
How do I?

Oh yes I remember
The roots rise from the Earth
They swirl up over my legs and ankles
 A strong wooden lace net shows me how
I feel grace and permission 
To dance and to breathe

When the moments are past counting
Ah yes
It is an easy question


Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Au Contraire



     
     I don't know when I stopped believing in "evil", possibly around the time I discontinued the idea of "hell" for myself. At 40 the burden of other people's fears overwhelmed my ability to breathe. Gasping for breath I unloaded my pack mule and with a cautious lightened step headed in an unknown direction. Everything changed. My perceptions and viewpoints softened, illusions drifted to the side of the road, unfurreling and disappearing. The world became more real, the idea of a big red dude with horns seemed comical. Even the gargoyles looming from the turrets of Notre Dame were interesting pieces of architectural art not objects to fear. This process made my perception of life less prone to fictionalized stories and ultimately more interesting.
     There are many fucked up people. They do seriously fucked up things, but I can't classify them as "evil" because to do so would limit my ability to accept that anyone can do anything.

     Anyone can do anything.

People have an enormous capacity for love and an equal vat of hate. This may be unique to humans (though I know a terrier that can impersonate a flying monkey down to the bared grisly teeth), but it probably isn't. We aren't actually that amazing. Our DNA is ridiculously similar to every natural thing on the planet. An outdated perception may be the main problem of the current population cluttering the continents. There is a pervasive idea we are at the top of the food chain when in actuality the food chain isn't linear, it's circular. 

     Breathe for a moment I'm not trying to freak you out.

Every single living experience has the perception of a beginning (birth), and an end (death), which makes us think that most things are linear. They aren't. Most experiences are circular, encompassing the entirety of life. In this context I'm using "life" to signify all existence at a particular time on Earth. 
     
  What I do impacts indirectly and directly everyone I know and those I've never met.

People have the illogical assumption that if they speed on the highway, love their dog, beat their children, plant a tree, leave their wife, never get a job, shovel snow from their sidewalk or sleep all day it doesn't make a rats shit bit of difference in the grand scheme of everything.

     Au contraire.

It ALL makes a king size rat shit bit of difference. If a tree stops leafing the animals residing in the branches have to move or die when the tree eventually thunders to the ground. Every single thing shifts the formation somewhere on the giant orb. This organism, Earth, has multiple parts; arms, butt cheeks, eyebrows and they are all necessary for the continuation of the experience. 

     This experience, yours and mine.

Which brings me back to the notion of "evil". Faced with unmentionable circumstances a human digs into their vat of history to choose a reaction. It's not that complicated. Sprinkle in some hormonal or chemical crazy dust (which can be found in all elements of DNA...I saw a two headed cow on the internet), add a tractor load of neglect or abuse and "evil" becomes ordinary. 
     A life form has choices, based on circumstances and perceptions those choices are made, rippling out in a cascading mass to the nether regions of the planet like a video gone viral. Awareness of this is the key to our survival ("our" being a collective term I do not use loosely). Knowing a choice has impact on the entirety of life may bring a shudder step to rash unconscious thinking and a boot in the ass when movement is vital. This doesn't mean to be frozen in terror before a decision. 

     It means, Pay Attention to the cause and effect of action or inaction.

Our communal vat is circular, inside are elements of ALL. To fantasize any aspect removes the ability to move forward as human beings precariously perched on an orb in a circular existence of everything.

     Wake up, wake up, WAKE THE FUCK UP.

     By the way, I don't believe in bad words either.

I plunk a pebble into the pond, watching the water until the ripples move out of sight.



Tuesday, January 20, 2015

How Should I Know?




Right is right and wrong is wrong or so the saying goes
But what is wrong and what is right?
A snowflake knows
It crystallizes without a rule book
Floating on an unmarked path to an unpredicted destination
So I ask

Dear Snowflake
How do you know what is right and what is wrong?
I watch the frozen landscape from my window and wait for an answer.
The snowflake takes her sweet time
Ice melts in drips and pitter pats not concerned with the passage of time
I thrum in irritation watching tick tocks groan by until the lazy flake responds

Dear Deb
There is no answer
I throw a pen at the window hoping to startle the snowflake into a better answer
She ignores my histrionics, floating in a directionless coarse toward the ground

Dear Snowflake
What should I do?
I watch the frozen landscape not sure if I should wait for an answer
Unpredictably the snowflake responds before a drip or pitter pat passes

Dear Deb
Haha how should I know?
I laugh until I stop wondering about right and wrong
I laugh until it no longer matters
I laugh while the snowflake lands and melts into drips and pitter pats



Saturday, January 17, 2015

The Cusp




One morning the light disappeared
It traveled on a comet to the other side of the moon
There was no advance notice
Not even a see you later card
It didn't say how long it would be gone or if it was ever coming back

I cried
I wailed at the Universe
I drifted in the dark sea and wondered
Why does it go?
Pen in hand I asked

Light responded in kind
Dear Deb
Your question already has been answered

I raged at the Universe
I drifted the dark sea and wondered some more
Why must the light leave for me to notice it exists?
Pen in hand I asked

Light responded in kind
Dear Deb
Your question already has been answered
I sat in silence with the Universe
I drifted in the dark sea and noticed

The waves lapped against me while I cried
My heart beat reached into my soul and whispered sweet somethings
Night spread out with an exclamation point broadening my ability to see

As light rounded from behind the Moon the beacon waved hello
I recognized her magnificence, benevolence and brilliance
The dark sea glimmered in rolling depths of reflection
On the cusp of a transition I smiled






Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Tour of Duty




     "She's 27 years old for God's sake, when the hell isn't it going to be my fault or my responsibility?"

Eavesdropping on two women as I exited the gym locker room (which wasn't hard since the speaker was shouting), I outed myself by laughing uproariously all the way to my car. Later that week I shared the story with a chic, enlightened 85 year old friend and finished with an embellishment of my own. 

     "I"m fairly certain if one of my kids at 65 knocks over a bank I'm going to be interviewed about my parenting abilities."

Nancy giggled (which at 85 is a beautiful thing) adding,

     "But if the little buggers happen to win the Nobel Peace Prize no one will ask you to stand alongside at the podium."

     Don't look for a round of applause.

     Forget about a vacation.

     Parenthood is a lifer task.

I like to imagine jobs exiting my To Do List. But the reality is that the laundry is never "finished", the house gets dirty again, I shower daily, a pedicure lasts three weeks if I'm lucky and those beings who ejected in gory splendor from my womb aren't gonna be "done". The timer isn't going to go off on the oven and the pair of them aren't going to be a nice golden brown, smelling yummy while waving off all of my obligations. 

     "Don't you mean opportunities?"

     Fiddle-de-de, now you show up?

     "Life is an opportunity not a chore."

     Tell that to all the mothers of the world.

     "I'm telling you. You tell them."
     
Done doesn't exist. Retirement is an illusion. Pull the big girl panties up, your tour of duty has no expiration, breathe deeply and mentor on.