Days of miracle and wonder

I’m falling up.

My day was full of momentum. As easeful as drifting downstream on an inner tube. As dizzying as a gut-busting joke.

This morning I watched schoolchildren pour off a ferry into Sausalito. A group of girls peered over the railing at the dock, fixated on crabs that were crawling between the rocks below. A group of boys oo-ed and aw-ed at pelicans dive-bombing for fish in the bay. Their instantaneous fascination with the surrounding world brought a huge grin to my face. The adults, scurrying to move the kids along and rather oblivious to their surroundings, made me chuckle.

Next on the agenda was some self-pampering with a good friend: steam room, sauna, tasty sandwich, coffee… yes! At lunch, my friend handed me a piece of paper, the workings of an idea she’d come up with for a solo performance. The contents of this tiny slip of paper were hilarious, incredibly brave and so JULIA. I haven’t yet found the words to express what an impact her art making is having on me, maybe soon… I so often walk away from our interactions feeling giddy, reminded that I’m still a child in many ways, and happy to be so. The fact that a pigeon shat on her arm greatly contributed to my giddiness on this particular occasion.

Both of these encounters this morning left me with a good taste in my mouth. Having a nice start to the day transformed my normally dreaded Thursday work routine into a much more enjoyable experience. Funny how that works.

Falling up is kind of like waterslides without gravity. I hope others get to feel this.

Stuck-in-the-mud banjo blues

I’m running on low today. I’m feeling ready for a change of pace. August came and went. September’s about to go too, and I’m starting to get a tires-spinning-in-the-mud feeling.

The good news is: my jubilant friend and I are putting up a creative work in a few weeks (which includes guest appearances by near-as-sisters buds, and a parental visit); I’ve started playing the banjo; I miss dancing and performing just enough so that I might actually get my butt into at least one class a week; my Vipassana course is edging nearer; I’m calling a farm to see about an apprenticeship this week.

Some pieces are about to get moving… I hope.

New Poem

This happened to me on Saturday.

UNTITLED (for now)

The coming and going of the moon
bright and soft in the coming
fire and haze in the going.

She crept out along the clean, fog of day
singing in opulent shades
of morning wind.
Bowling me over at a glance.

She took the long way ‘round
a rolling curve
to flee rivers of sunlight
and meet me in the crook of
stars and city lights.

In resonant burnt orange tones
she left me a path to sail upon
and I drifted back to her, singing
“Hiiiiii(gh)!”

The coming and going of the moon
opal and allure in the coming
rapturous and obscure in the going.

Stewing

Been a while… I’ve been distracted. It’s the um, birds…

Nostalgia sets in. Yerba mate and Correo Aero and the nearing return of a soul chunk. The smell of the Headlands. Golden light in the grass.

My life feels a bit like stew right now. Everything’s thrown in and mashed together. Each bight renders a different flavor, reminiscent of the focal stew essence. It’s pretty delicious. I hope that others might also receive even a hint of these flavors. They’re of a variety that ought to be shared.

The Birds...

Sing songs...

I like it.

Scramble Head

Jealousy seems to have become directionlessness and groundlessness. Those ness-ish-type words.

Do you ever feel like you’re speaking a completely incomprehensible language?

Do you ever judge people for judging people? And then judge yourself in turn for judging them?

I know I’ll make it back to loving kindness by the end of this ditty. The dance-along may be a bit hectic, the pre-conceptions a bit rigid, but we’ll sing it all out. The human beings know more than we give them credit for. Find their little lights and you’ll beam all day and night. I have more than a few friends that would grab my hand if I needed something to hold on to. Each breath that enters and exits my lungs sounds like waves. My day name is DoveTree. I’m remembering the lighter side...

Pangs

Part II:

I am feeling jealous…

In this particular moment, this is what jealousy feels like:

I have a cloud looming over my head, zapping me with lightning every time I move. Usually the zaps are small, but occasionally the charge is so high that I feel paralyzed, dominated, stripped of my core. Pretty fucking lousy.

So this is where I am. Feeling unpleasant feelings. They are just feelings. They provide me with an opportunity, an awakening of the heart. Though lightning is dangerous, I can also use it as a source of power and strength, if I can learn to let it run through my body without hindering the flow. There is more to me than these jealous feelings.