Innocent Eye

Emma is on my lap.

Snoring.

A violet, chilly sky

Leaves goosebumps on my tan arm.

Across the restaurant

Women of an age

Are laughing.

Lovely in beige sweater sets,

Iced pink lipstick

And martinis.

Businessmen near me

Are bored

With each other,

Waiting to go home.

The leather and silver bracelet

My sister gave me

Closes with a magnet.

It is likely

She paid more for that

Knowing my one-armed challenge.

I feel loved

Each moment

I notice it

On my wrist.

Emma just had dinner.

She skirted her pill.

As usual.

All she seems to want

Is to be with me.

If I lived with a man

Who had his eye on me

At all times

Like Emma does

I might stab him.

But I adore Emma’s looking.

My life is full of love.

It is there because I see it as such.

I am a professional voyeur.

My awareness meanders

And I linger on a neighbors’ call

Across the parking lot:

“Be safe!”

Or the pansies

My sister planted for me

When she visited.

Love is everywhere

If I keep an innocent eye.

A soft eye..

Not an expectant eye

But one easy to surprise.

The Edge of Empathy

I’ve come to understand that feeling empathy is a true luxury.

It seems like it should be a given that those with tender hearts should always have the ability to feel into another’s humanity.

The game changer is pain;

Any kind of pain; emotional, physical or spiritual.

Becoming intimate with physical pain over the last 6 months

A monstrous myopia repeatedly comes calling as an uninvited guest.

MYOPIA-
Definition of myopia
: a lack of foresight or discernment : a narrow view of something

I am an Aquarian soul with a penchant for depth and width and undying curiosity as a rule.

As an artist, space and freedom of movement in my mind-scape have been crucial to my evolution.

Pain is confining

And shrinks my heart’s capacity.

I hate having all my attention on myself.

But it’s hard to re-direct the grip of contraction.

The fact that I am just now learning about the unwelcome effects of living inside this confounded contraction

Says a great deal about growing up in the 1%.

Affluence buffers one from the lion’s share of suffering in most cases.

So the luxury of empathy for others is truly a gift

We, the privileged are blessed to extend

When we find so much extra energy left over after we do what we need to do making a life.

I think there may be much wisdom for me scuttling around in the shadows of this newly contracted life I am visiting for the moment.

I want so much to say: “Shooo! Get along with you now! You are not welcome here! BE GONE!”

But I can’t.

I will bow my head and learn whatever fucking thing I am supposed to learn.

It likely has something to do with putting my own needs above others.

(Oh yeah…that again…) 🙂

I Bit the Hook

ceramic,7x4x1/2″

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I went down the rabbit hole in conversation with a person close to me with differing political views.

I knew this was unproductive from the start and staved it off a bit

But entered the fray anyway.

It feels embarrassing to witness my unchecked little self.

The tsunami of desperately needing someone to understand my truth

And value it

Was a force

I did not understand as ego.

Such wasted energy in the end.

I do not have the skill of detachment in this political clime.

Putting my precious life-force toward pieces of the pie where I can actually make a difference is my direction for today.

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“….we grab at pleasure and try to avoid pain, but despite our efforts, we’re always alternating between the two. Under the illusion that experiencing constant security and well-being is the ideal state, we do all sorts of things to try to achieve it: eat, drink, drug, work too hard, spend hours online or watching TV. But somehow we never quite achieve the state of unwavering satisfaction we’re seeking. At times we feel good: physically nothing hurts, and mentally all’s well. Then it changes, and we’re hit with physical pain or mental anguish. I imagine it would even be possible to chart how pleasure and pain alternate in our lives, hour by hour, day after day, year in and year out, first one and then the other predominating.

But it’s not impermanence per se, or even knowing we’re going to die, that is the cause of our suffering, the Buddha taught. Rather, it’s our resistance to the fundamental uncertainty of our situation. Our discomfort arises from all of our effort to put ground under our feet, to realize our dream of constant okayness. When we resist change, it’s called suffering. But when we can completely let go and not struggle against it, when we can embrace the groundlessness of our situation and relax into its dynamic quality, that’s called enlightenment, or awakening to our true nature, to our fundamental goodness. Another word for this is freedom—freedom from struggling against the fundamental ambiguity of being human.”

-from LIVING BEAUTIFULLY WITH UNCERTAINTY, by Pema Chodron

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Oh my god….Where is God?

best photo I ever took (says me..)

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Acck!!!! The world is a mess!

It always was actually but these days feel so raw and gruesomely change-filled and my person-hood is bruised and bereft.

Oh my god. Where are You?

What is a spiritual life anyway?

For me- valuable spiritual work is about sometimes undoing and unloading the mind rather than its continual enrichment.

Creating space rather than filling it.

Getting quiet instead of adding to inane conversation.

Saying “I don’t know” when I don’t.

When desire rules my senses..give something to another.

Recognize humility and vulnerability as exalted states.

Live as an inter-dependent human.

Respect Life. ALL Life.

Protect and support the weak, small, infirm.

Find space more interesting than form.

Beware of too comfortable a life.

Learn and claim my worth.

Keep working to exercise and refine my “voice”.

Try not to leave appreciation unexpressed.

Find Beauty in every thing…EVERY thing. Yes, even that.

Recognize when I am triggered by something or someone it usually means something in me needs healing.

Guilt, blame, shame are impotent uses of my energy.

Doing what I can to raise my frequency as a human is the most productive thing I know to do.

Remember that Love is a state of being and not a feeling. Do all I can to get there and stay there.

Because that is God to me.

So Much Isn’t a Problem

monoprint,22×30

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It’s weird that grappling with health gone awry or the nauseating politics of the day

Scratches the same strange itch;

The one that says we are better for being in the fight.

The horrible pseudo-holiness sewn into feelings of self-worth

Stemming from actively participating in the fray

As opposed to very quietly witnessing

Seduces us.

The adrenaline rush of acute pain

And screeching disbelief in flawed human behavior on display of late

Feel similar.

Are we really better for being in the fight?

Reading about it, talking about it, going to every doctor, taking every new pill

Or is there more potency in just the recognition of WHAT IS

FOR THE MOMENT

And using our own finite energy reserves

To attempt just a tidbit of elevation

Of our own personal energy frequency;

Maybe lift ourselves up a tad

Out of the mud.

Love ourselves enough not to succumb

To the lowest common denominator

As tempting to our nervous system

Out of habit

As this inclination may be.

Today I will practice

Not involving myself so much in the dramas of the day in my body and in the world.

I will trust in the intelligence I understand to be

So much larger than me

And use any extra energy I have

To keep myself uplifted

And through this state

Perhaps be of service to others.

Armoring Up

my garden

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I am noticing how mega-herculean my mind is.

Pain and muscle spasm have been my partners pretty constantly for about a month now.

In order to function I try to disassociate from my body and default into my head.

This sets up an unholy schism.

This tactic feels oddly good because so much work has to go into bypassing the pesky physical form

And our culture has taught us that working very hard DOING STUFF, THINKING STUFF, PRODUCING STUFF

Gives us a gold star.

In the news I watch the theater of evidentiary exchange.

It really isn’t that hard to find support for any opinion you might have.

The thing I am noticing is the penchant for bypassing the body in favor of the seduction of the mind.

Watching the current sparring in the halls of justice provides a perfect laboratory.

How do I decide who to believe when forming my own opinion?

A most potent power women in particular possess seems to me to be

The ability to recognize the brain we have

AND

The archive of knowledge generated by FEELING our existence through our physical form.

This skill set is what we need to be mothers to our children.

We are masters of hypervigilance.

The boon of this innate registration of subtlety allows women a width of awareness

With far more gravitas than a defended or “heady” response.

The negative side of this can look like adrenal exhaustion from just taking in too much life.

For me to heal I am being very tender with myself in part by backing off the “fight” not to feel.

An immediate softness makes its self known as I allow the messages my body wants me to feel.

My tender heart seems to have all the room in the world for the stuff I wear armor to avoid.

Avoidance seems to equal armoring

Which feels and looks so hard.

It certainly has weight

But the kind so very far from the ground.