remember to love
the world is shaking with the chaos happening all around and there is nowhere to hide. try to be wise and feel the ground beneath your feet as things fall apart. maybe we need to breathe in a little bit deeper and then let it go. dare to let a few layers of who we think we are fall away as we reach out. can we remember that we are not alone even when we feel isolated from the rest of life and everything seems too dark. the world is waiting for you to take off your shoes and walk into your life knowing you are loved.
my grandfather was a man who lived a life in solitude where he was at ease. he walked out of his life without his shoes feeling his life behind him as he did let go.
I bow to the ocean in the north,
I remember in my yellow raincoat
being carried with my grandfather
into its life as the first reflection
of the sun arrived in the waters.
lifting a net filled with daring perch
not ready to offer their last wish.
in awe of this man with his tender heart
holding the knife that will pierce this slender perch.
he is comfortable with the solitude this life holds.
the world is waiting for us.
there is no need to linger,
let yourself rest in the absence
of a loved one gone.
the waters can lift our loss
so we can walk easier.
It is time to visit ourselves as an old dear friend.
let our wounds be the inspiration
for new defeats.
open to this deep desire
to belong in this world
and bow again.
(grandfather’s boat 2008) |
mutterings of a madman II
(teaching from a sunday class)
just got back, my first class, a pinch of this, no time to measure
a cover of bill wither's lean on me brings us all together
silence; i open my mouth, a slight hesitation, it's been almost a week
and am comforted to hear her voice coming through when i speak
"today as we put our souls in motion
an invitation to practice this simple notion
to explore in body, elevation
a mystical and physical celebration"
una speaks to me
una speaks through me
"what would happen if you and i today
would move in a slightly different way
if we arched from the spine, allow our hearts to be lifted
how might our dance, intimate or communion, be shifted
as i can allow for this elemental change
will my dance be similar, familiar or strange
perhaps my temperament will be mellowed
perhaps someone's spirit will be raised
per chance instead of screamed at she is hello-ed
he finds his heart, no longer self-betrayed
let's use this practice, today, of elevating the heart
as a place to begin, with grace, a fresh start
a platform to dive in from and to return to
lean on in, let us notice what wants to come through"
|
my grandmother
my ancestry line is fading behind the veil into the unknown. my dear grandmother was the last of my grandparents to leave this life. with the empty space that will never be filled again I can feel how I am aging into their footsteps.
she was the last one of those who held my life in their wrinkled hands always loving and not letting go. she taught me how to love this earth and all it carries, its smells and colors. her voice will still be heard inside the memories brought alive inside of us who have known her. every wrinkle remembers the gifts of still loving the house she left as she walked into this world with only a pair of new shoes.
there is a quiet discomfort not having the elders waiting for you any more. it reminds me to spend more time with the people I hold dear and love. we never get another opportunity when they are ready to leave this place. there are so many questions I could have asked which answers now will not be spoken.
she has waited for years to be welcomed into heaven
by her loved ones gone before. her last minutes in this life were without regrets, she was ready.
today she stands in the open door for the last time. waving goodbye to the ones she has left. I have faith in your passing, you are in the hands of your god.
the grief is taken by the soft brush of her relief
as she goes on into the now known only to her.
a reminder that we will all leave this earth and maybe we will feel ready so we do not need to fight against the darkness when it comes.
in memory of my dear grandmother astrid who i love
|
mutterings of a madman
(teachings from a saturday class)
i was aware as each of you stepped in
the way in which you chose to begin
an invocation of spirit, deeply reverential
a shared context, yet almost confidential
uniquely personal
mystically universal
inspired by what i saw, your silent invitation to reverence
i ask myself how could life shift, what would be the difference
if you and i began the every day dance humbled and reverent
how might our journeys be altered, be altared, be different
if i could begin each morning
enter into each conversation
allow space in every confrontation
with the reverence i saw as each of you stepped in
the way in which you silently chose to begin
i invite you as we continue our journey together
to pause and continue this calling to the reverential
in your own way, gentle and confidential
personal
universal
your own sacred ritual
and see if we can altar our course here today in this womb
so we may alter the coarse in the big dance, life's living room.
|
first
new moon
as a caterpillar
spins an immaculate cocoon of my past i am pulled within myself noticing
how the walls that separate us dissolves. i wonder what hides inside
the undeniable silence that we try so hard to avoid?
as I read a story about a father’s unconditional love for his
daughter I am reminded of what I have lost.
i cannot help to wonder how my life would have been if it had been different,
if my father had been alive.
i know i am not alone feeling the emptiness of growing up without a
father's love but nevertheless there are moments when the emotion of
being alone still holds its tight grip.
inside
and outside of this memory i am blessed.
i am grateful for being alive in this moment and in this skin. what
i meant to say is i love you.
i want
to feel that my life has made a difference that even if our lives are
only a fraction of the whole i want to live every moment knowing i tried.
hoping for a place where we would not be strangers anymore, where we
can look each other in the eye without hiding the truth.
take my
hand and let us find our way back home again.
|
first new moon
our story begins in
the foyer of the beautiful studio maui. the scene depicts a woman
with a large sketch pad, pencil in hand, animatedly involved in the
creative process. her focus is on a shaved black man sitting quietly
dressed in loose flowing clothing. as the scene before us fades let
me take this opportunity to give you a few details.
the black man is michael molin-skelton, a visiting teacher in residence
and we are just minutes before he is about to begin teaching an ecstatic
dance class. the woman is one of the regulars in the maui community
dance and a local artist. as the scene comes back in we are an hour
later and the dance space is filled with sweaty bodies who have just
danced a wave and a sense of serenity is in the air as stillness fills
the room. let’s listen in for i believe michael is about to
begin to speak.
“a few minutes before the class began a woman innocently asked
if she could sketch a portrait of me. i acquiesced and as she began
to capture my image onto the page i felt myself viscerally begin to
shrink. i invisibly began to put up walls, barriers. for what?
protection? what am i protecting? what am i afraid of?”
“as i stand here now i am reminded of the ani difranco line: i just discovered why i don’t look good in pictures, because
i’ve got the kind of beauty that looks best on the move.
i invite everyone in the room as we continue on this dance journey
to move with whatever it is that makes you shrink, to embrace in movement
the walls we construct to keep us separate, to allow the barriers
to dissolve as we surrender inside this next wave. and know that you
have the kind of beauty that looks best on the move”
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