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Goes direct.

And so you land in the moment. Naked and shaking and fearless. And thankful and empty and wondering and full. Wound and unwinding. Wounded and worn and pure. And so you land in this moment ever changing.


Venus is turning and I am listening to Sting in the coffee shop. Did you ever play the game where you catch one blade on the ceiling fan with your eye and hold? Something that is usually a blur. And hold, then drop it. And catch again. Running or walking and doing our best, we loop back crossing our own paths and each other. We smell each other on everything we pass. We smell what used to be ours. Did you ever eat the honey from the Bird of Paradise? Did you ever eat passion fruit fallen floating in the river? Did you ever smell that smell left after the rain? After the rain. Do you smell it now?

He never said so, but my dad loved this song. It played at my grandparents big anniversary party. One of the parties that people plan before they get too old and their friends can’t dance. The celebrations of a Joy that also holds the tone of inevitable loss and the knowing, never-knowing of when it will go. Did you ever sing amazing grace in a hospital room? Did you ever run at the beach at night? Did you ever put something away for safe keeping and never see it again? See it again. Did you run as fast as you could to catch you plane or train and jump on it? Did you catch it? Did you find it? Do you see it now?

We all know fucking everything, but forget in strange chunks. For a moment, we remember the past and wonder where it went. It seems so clear that nothing is changed. That we are right there forever and then we flash back to now, and, “oh”. And oh. Oh. Oh! My god. I remember, Now is not then. Now I am somewhere I almost still cant believe. And oh, you ask me again, Where I Came From? I was always here. In passing, in waking, in running, in crossing. In this blur. there are moments when we catch an eye. And a piece of it holds on forever.

We sweat it out. We cry it out. We scream it out and fight it out. We pass it out in electric jolts that ripple through time and space. Did you ever not know the difference between your sweat and you tears? Did you ever taste your own blood? Were you ever afraid to? Did you ever have a memory that wasn’t yours? Did you ever forget what it was but still feel it? Were you ever afraid? I sweat it out. I cry it out. I fight it out. I pass it out in electric jolts that ripple through time and space. Did you ever scream “NO” at the top of your lungs and nobody listened? Did you ever scream “NO” and they did? Did you ever, say “no” when you mean “yes”. “Yes” yes! Before its too late. And you smell someone’s regret. And we taste each other’s grief. And we dip trembling finger tips into the center of everything and touch the pulse strip naked God. And trembling eyes. Look to finally see. And be. In all the joy and pain.

Did you ever lose everything and say “thank you”? Did you ever get given more than you ever thought possible, and say “thank you” for this as well? Did you ever get whispered that healing is balance? That balance is not still, but is everywhere and everything at once? Did you ever get pleasure to balance your pain? Get held for the times that you were left alone? Did you ever feel a separation melt? Did you ever watch a fear disappear? Did you ever feel the universe expanding. Slowly. Big enough. To hold. Everything at once? Have you ever been told something you couldn’t understand? Have you ever sat at the oceans edge and felt yourself flying? Were you ever given a gift that you did not think you deserved? Have you ever listened to the same song twice? Did you ever eat vanilla ice cream rolled in Quick? Have you ever picked an apple from a tree? Have you ever picked a flower from the same bush everyday and given it to the same person? Have you ever fallen to the ground—laughing or crying or anything at all—and then actually noticed where you were at. Did you decide to stay there just a moment more? Did you remember to say “thanks”? did you remember to stay in it? Did you remember everything that came before? And everything yet to come?


And so you land in the moment. Naked and shaking and fearless. And thankful and empty and wondering and full. Wound and unwinding. Wounded and worn and pure. And so you land in this moment ever changing.

Comments

Thanks for writing this.

Did you ever put something away for safe keeping and never see it again?
I put aside some money in my room awhile back and lost it. Does everyone want to help me find it?

Shucks, I better get busy, there's a lot more to do than the errands I've penciled in for the day (watch repair shop, alterations, fabric melding goo with some kind of official name that I don't know, paper writing, etc.)

Once, in a state of exhaustion following a bout of anxiety and self-loathing, I watched a spider drop slowly down it's thread to the ground. That was the universe and in that moment I could hear it, be it.

I've heard that in the Japanese culture it is impolite to say no to a request. The considerate response is "well, it is very difficult because..." I think even that would be difficult for me. I'm more of the "okay, you want me to run up and down three flights of stairs in order to be a counselor and a receptionist at the same time? No prob." type. I've never yelled "NO!"

but I want to.

I dream about it. Maybe it'll happen today.

I feel like you touched everything- at once. Something actually impossibe to do with words though we try, and try, Thank God. Thanks to God. On the eve of Ramadan and the Jewish High Holy Days, these are raw but vital questions. Rebirth and renewal are always occuring, but it helps when we put it in a light of special attention with ritual.

I put my Jewish Grandmother's special airplane pin- that her best friend had given her in 1923 when she was 12 and was passed on to me - in a special box that I brought on a trip with me and was stolen. I've never seen it again. It hurts.

Thanks for prompting me to acknowledge it and put it out there with a prayer at this important point in time- new moon, 9/11, eve of fasting and prayer of two intimately intertwined parts of the human family that have trouble getting along.

رمضان

Auspicious as fuck, isnt it? coming of Ramadan, new moon, solar eclipse, 9/11 hole where...what once stood? I forget. what was even there before all this? I feel sad. Today, I have felt an awesome sourcing of deep doing and aligning. However, the world is big. I feel like I dont know what to do.
today, a student asked me to write a piece, something like-- body awareness and greening. this made me happy. there are some out there. and this purging out of personal toxins is the opposite of sick. I feel personally hopeful, but kind of wondering. how will the war end? oil, lives; will we have to use it all up?

"Ramadan is derived from an Arabic word for intense heat and scorched ground and shortness of rations. Prayers, fasting, charity, and self-accountability are especially stressed at this time" (wiki)

bow down and kiss the scorched ground.

I've smelled the rain before the rain. Then it rained. And I was happy that it was rain I smelled because I could have been wrong. It might have been a fresh washed sidewalk baking in the sun or a near by sprinkler watering the grass. I've experienced smelling those things thinking it was gonna rain and it didn't rain because it was the sprinklers or the fresh washed sidewalk, not the rain. But when I smell the rain before the rain and then it rains, I am satified in a way that nothing else can satisfy me. When I smell the rain before the rain it always reminds me of drinking out of the garden hose in my backyard when I was a little kid. Perhaps that garden hose drink comes closest to that satisfaction I get from smelling the rain before the rain then it rains.

retrograde motion gives us time, time for rebirth.. & then of course we have to go direct.

i love you Laura.

-not fasting, to keep a job

retrograde motion gives us time, time for rebirth.. & then of course we have to go direct.

i love you Laura.

-not fasting, to keep a job

i had a bunch of mini flashbacks today while walking around Bushwick/Williamsburg looking for a space.

I forget what they were. Mostly childhood/family memories.

every train of thought seems to lead to "to be or not to be".

even when it starts as simple as "do I want ice cream right now?"

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