rattles

I think there's a different kind of "death rattles" than the ones you hear about...it's the rattling around by yourself...in the cold fringes of the winter.   No energy to go out; nothing but silence staying home.

It's the way death rattles in this world and knocks her unearthly breaths at your doors and windows waiting for you to succumb.  It's the way the silence sears in to your heart and makes you question anything and perhaps everything you do.

It's the emptiness of no children, no life...even though life may scurry around your feet...like rats scratching, stretching, scraping to find the least bit of nourishment...brilliant creatures, misunderstood...murdered by those who don't understand.

Nothing; no nothing is as lonely as being a widow.  Except for, of course, being a human being who pushes love out of their own life.

Maybe I'm both.

I See You

I see you looking at me, in all of the detail that would send someone infinitely paranoid into oblivion.

I see you looking at me, trying to understand what is happening to you -- I see you looking for your answers by looking at me.

Those answers aren't here.  They are inside you.  Sit quietly; maybe you will understand.  Listen to the world that you love, not the pain that has been driving you.

This is a soft landing spot, where friends are welcomed with warmth, safety, food and drink.  We, us 5 here, would offer kindness to anyone who entered our midst.  We've helped you, and when you are ready, you will know.

We sit by the fire.  We enjoy each other...cats, dogs and a roaring fire on this chilly winter day.

We don't know you, but we see you.

We welcome life...as it is.

Haiku: 11.9.09

communication vanished

a vain attempt to heal old

scarred wounds hope lost

Going Toward (as in not running from)

Yeah, I'm told the thing to do is to make change when you are "going toward" something, not because you just want to get away from something.

...even when it's "Going Toward Quiet."

This beautiful mind needs a quiet mind. This beautiful mind is not quite yet healed enough to deal with the bizarre rigors of working with the co-dependent, needy or non-transparent; particularly when I've got a big job to do.   Or, maybe it's just that this beautiful mind can't work among those who are frozen in time; neither running away nor going toward.

As much as I am certain that this is the best approach, this "going toward," I'm not sure that it is, in fact, that it is substantially different than "running from."  It's a matter of perspective; a change-up of coordinate system.  At the same time, I recognize that if I go toward quiet, I may not actually be running from noise.

The difference is the endpoint:  Going Toward has responsibility for the goal...Running From is without direction, without responsibility, without an end-goal in mind.

So, maybe if I leave my job because I am going toward quiet and peace, I am held responsible for obtaining the quiet and peace.  If I leave because I am going toward a leadership position, it is my responsibility to get it.  If I leave because I am going toward my new business, then this new enterprise focused on community development thrives.

It isn't running from.  That's what Michael did.  It cost him his life.

That's not me: I AM of this life.

And I think I just wrote sections of my resignation letter...if I were to offer it today.  If I could define what I would be going toward.

Passing...2 years have passed

Two years and a handful of days have passed and I am in the middle of a two-week sabbatical from work.  For the first time in many years, this time actually feels my own.  The result of that is that the detail I see in my world is different than it has been; like a new experience with new details and new connections.  I am reconnecting with old friends; connecting with new friends...and enjoying life as it is.

Michael, it has been two years since we lost your presence, but we still carry your spirit in our hearts.  Although we miss you, we experiencing your gifts and your love continuing to care for us, connect us, and teach us.

I Wish

I wish I had the naivete to believe that wind turbines, solar panels or fuel cells could solve the problems of the world.

I wish I had the spirit to accept love without accessing risk.

I wish I was me...in a different place, different time, different life.

Perhaps I would look at this whole thing differently.

sharp

After a period of rest, food and love, I have found my tools...I found my rasp.

I sharpen my scythe...

For a new harvest; for a new life.