I wonder

what might be, will be, tomorrow? 
The day of rest for me.
It already is.
It too already is.
What? Where? 
Is this relative?
It isn't relative or dependent on anything.
All is, always has been.
Our perception of it changes,
just like the moon waxes and wanes,
sometimes we don't see any of it at all and yet,
it's there behind a bunch of clouds in full glory.
It is always there circling our Earth, or maybe it is the other way around?
I know, Judge, science has an opinion and so do I.
I like to wonder about opposites a lot these days.
A gift, buried in a dangerously explosive place?
It must be there, that must be it!
Just look a little closer! You might see it, yet.
Look until it reveals itself.
You'll see. You'll see, very soon, you'll see it all and understand.
For now, rest up dear friend. It's been a day, a week, a month of up and downs, a year, in fact! 
All of it has always been and is. Remember that.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

New old me

Everything is different now;
Where sadness reigned, joy stepped in its place.
Where doubt was creeping around, trust made light.
Where tears were common place, dance, song and music plays.
Oh, how long ago it seems!
How lovely of a gift, of gifts! 
Diamonds will never measure up!
How grateful I've become and am for all that seemed so hard, so barely bearable back then! 
How wonderful and beautiful life is from this vantage point!
I will never go back.
Thank YOU for all that YOU've sent my way these years. 
I wouldn't want to miss a tear. 
And now let's go discover all that was and is, 
so much yet to find!
I love YOU, too! I do.

Life, death, a dialogue

I wish…


I could change people’s minds, help them see the bigger picture, the one even I can’t see but know is there, the one that I believe, if everyone knew, would cause us to recognize how we’re all connected and one.

That time is not yet here.

I know and am sorry to hear. There’s a heaviness in my heart for the week ahead here in this place we call America, the land of the free. Free it is, but who will see what is free? Our founding fathers did not mean free to kill each other, to lie, to cheat, though they too, did all of that. Their intent was one of striving to higher grounds. Freedom for that, I must believe.

If not that, freedom has no meaning, it is not here, does not exist. Because then we’re all slaves to our egos, our fears, the stories in our heads about the other. That’s not free.

We were never free to choose the opposite of good, not really. We’re called to more than that!

How do you answer?

That’s where the dialogue comes in. This is the dialogue, our life!

Every situation, a question from a higher place, a call, a text, S.O.S. to action, do good, choose good, think good, make your purpose count right now, right here, I need you, please!

How do you respond?

Decline the call? Let it go on voicemail, once again? Against your conscience you do, or choose not to, telling yourself it’s not worth it anyway? Or do you answer in the best most honest way you know how? Honoring the otherness, the different kind, seeking to understand what drives it? What makes it act this way?

What will happen is not up to you, or me. What is, is to answer the call. We must, that is what it means to be free to me, to be alive or not.

What is it to you?

A feather

She gave me a feather. My sense is, it was intended for writing. Laid in a beautiful and old, simply carved wooden box it was. On her face a smile, so warm, so trusting, so knowing that i would know what to do with it. That i would understand the mystery and use it.

What bird it came from i don’t know. Eagle, maybe? The feather my father once got me from a Native American Indian in Switzerland came to mind. The play about the seven fires, it reminded me of, the purpose to always remind me of my roots, no matter what and where i’d be. This, too, i was reminded of with this feather she gave me as a gift.

What did she mean to convey? Remember your roots, yes, they are not where you thought they were. You’ll yet discover them and the place, reconnect and feel the vibrancy of your own ancient history. Carried by the wind, light, floating on the waves, used to clean the crumbs the night before the night that’s different from all the others. Like that feather she may have meant. Did she? I think this, too and more.

Like what? You said your sense was it is intended for writing. Yes? You’re right, it is. Why the feather and not a pen? Ah! There’s a mystery hidden within. Feathers came long before pens. Yes, and? More about my roots? Maybe.

One googles things one does not know. So did i; What is the meaning of feathers? Based on an article by wootandhammy.com feathers have always been associated with freedom, transcendence and communication with spiritual realms. It asks: “what was i thinking when it appeared? What does it mean to me now?”

Hm. I’ve been asking for a sign three days ago, that the Almighty Creator remembers me and that the path i chose is right. That there is nothing else i need to do now but trust, have faith and remember that love is patient.

The feather is my sign. And where i received it confirms more than i could have ever asked for. A dream come true i didn’t even know yet to dream until the beam of light took me there to meet her, 46 years from now. She looked good, lovely really and a little twinkle of mischief bound with deep love and complete joy, i thought i saw in her eyes.

Thank you stars, thank you moon, thank you Shirzad, for the gift and Leah for the journey. Thank you, old wise woman, for your gift to me!

Breaking free!

From my own rivers of thinking,
conditioned over 52 years,
believing, seeing, perceiving
my world, my way

The shackles of my mind or
is it in my mind?
Who cares!? Stickler!
See, what I mean?

It takes time to write a post
and I don't have enough right now

You need a theme!

It can't just be a line or two!

This may not be your thing after all!

Focus on your job!
You've got a lot to do!
And face it, 
you're creative juices are running low!
Notice all the mistakes you're making?
All the inconsistencies?
You don't care?????!!!!

See the frizzly edges of those purple petals?
Breaking free is what that did to me, today!

Oh, yes, I do care!
Very much!
You know!
That is why I'm breaking free
from the shackles of my mind,
the part that hinders me,
belittles me,
wants to prove me wrong,
no friend does that!

You are tall, wise, smart and
good enough is quite alright!

You do well under pressure,
You persevere,
You lead in uncertainty all the time,
You love and are loved,
And there's nothing You have to do 
to earn it!
You are success right now, right here!

Thank YOU! 
YOU sound like a friend and YOU're right,
I'll be very well prepared for tomorrow's session.
Thank YOU for being here, always!

a story about fitting in

a young girl, 
only twelve or thirteen, 
she wanted friends, dance, ballet
a teacher, old, tired, bullied, terrorized 
she didn’t like him either
I needed her for him
there, then and she did stand up strong,
a warrior of light, 
feeling that she didn’t fit in 
the years went by,
she left her home, racism, anti-semitism and
settled in the land of her dreams, 
her foremothers and -fathers 
what now? what here? 
I showed her.
her parents at breaking point
“me?” she asked,
“you want me to help you?”
she thought it was up to her, 
but it was ME, 
I needed her, 
never fitting in 
marriage, abuse, divorce
home that never was, 
never will be, 
never was meant to be
leaving it all behind for the big, 
new promised land of contradictions, 
of disputes, 
mc donald’s, gap and blues
she never liked it much and yet, 
she stayed, never fitting in 
kansas city, racism, again
standing up was not fitting in, 
calling it out was not fitting in,
but I needed her innocence, 
her girlish rebel from across the sea, 
then, there and it worked, never fitting in
fifteen years 
ge, paris, france, 
bangalore, delhi, hydrabad, mumbai, 
tokyo, beijing, hangzhou, 
london, sweden, germany, russia
then a spark: 
“you should pursue coaching as a career!"
she was intrigued, liked education, higher education 
because finally she might fit in
but that’s not what i needed her to do
speak the truth, serve, help, 
get comfortable in the muck, 
love the muck, the tension and bring lightness, 
joy and stillness within
that is what I needed her to do, 
never fitting in 
peacemaker foundation 
it was called
the place she built from all she had, 
always wanted to do 
and now it was coming true
she could shine, so she thought
but I needed her to come down, 
to expand, to understand 
in her inner most secret place,
that it was never her, 
it was always ME and 
that all this time 
she fit in like hand in glove, 
like socks and shoes, 
like a horse and a carriage, 
all along she was perfect where she was
years go by
what do they mean? 
a journey travelled
“be!” “be!” “be!” I tell you.
“be! that’s all I need of you right now, 
right here, be with ME!” 
and so you are, finally fitting in.

Washed up

on sand,
countless grains,
millions of them,
carrying, covering, filing, smoothing
hard rock,
solid wood, 
big and small

washed up on the shore

find it, 
rolling in, then out again
neither here, nor there
just going with the flow,
low and high,

washed up just like that

like sorrows, worries,
past and future,
even in the here and now
coming in, going out again

washed up by our consciousness 

let it go, let it go!
I hear them say, them waves,
crashing in my mind
moving, smoothing edges of those rocks
from long ago

washed up once again

maybe some day 
I'll pick them up
and put them in a jar
memories from beach days
once upon a summer
on lake Michigan

washed up 
love, tears, longing
for a breeze, some shade and sunshine
all year round