Watching your hands, busy small hands
So nimble
Your focus becomes intense as you create and build
I watch the world fall away as
your task encompasses you
From your inner space
Your thoughts float across the room
“ mom… see that goes there”
Your casual invitation into this world of
Your imagination
Standing listening to your inner monolog
I am awe struck by you
As you piece together and construct
The lilting narration of your creation
Filling the room with the pure essence
of you
Nodding my interest as I marvel at you
I see in you more than this moment,
Before me I see so many afternoons
Strung together like glittering beads
The preciousness of time and small moments
like this one
Glancing at your tiny hands,
thinking of all that they will one day do.
My heart aches
with the knowledge that you will continue to bloom
And unfold into who you are to be
I will be here watching you grow,
like an ever-present ray of sunlight
Emotion catches in my throat,
because your perfection is the most
Beautiful thing
resting is an activity; I give you Permission to Rest
to take a moment
and just Sit
look around you
and just BE
this is not meditation; that is a mind exercise
this is Rest
in our world of busy as a badge of honour
we do not take the time
to be Present
with ourselves
and just Sit Down
we label resting as laziness; shameful and indulgent
still out bodies Need it
I invite you to Sit, look at the world around you
tell your list of things in your head
that you feel must get done right now
that you will be back in 15 min
you're in a meeting for a moment
a meeting with the Present Moment; a scheduled Pause
allow your body to stop rushing
you may notice that your body is carrying tension
your neck and jaw clenched?
in your shoulders ?
maybe your hips
ans lower back
are your idle hands looking for something to grasp?
squeezing the arms of your chair?
this tension goes deeper than your muscles you know
the frenzy of being busy
frays our nerves
burns out our adrenals
robs us of Joy
the tension is there; even as you run from it by staying busy
I give you permission to Rest
Surreal, these new mornings no alarms
The absence of city life, no traffic sounds,
with out much notice we find our world on pause
In the place of the bustling electric pulse of cities
the sound of bird song, and clearing skies
The absence of city life, no traffic sounds,
keeping our distance, as we join together
Italians singing to one another on balconies
Pots banging and cheers for health workers at 7pm
Musicians streaming mini concerts online
Keeping our distance, as we join together,
reaching out. Offering hope that will ripple,
giving to each other, protecting the vulnerable.
Neighbours shopping for each other
staying in to keep everyone healthy
Reaching out, offering hope that will ripple.
in this absence of industry, our focus shifts.
We are strengthening our communities
I wonder what world we will create together
When we are no longer at home
- j.a_b
We will get through this, I have faith in us. And believe in our capacity to learn from this crisis. xoxox stay safe ,wash your hands ❤
I was struggling lost in my grief; and the Goddess said “You are not alone”
“Yes I know, I know I'm not alone. I'm part of the Great Cosmic world,
we're all connected,” was my reply
But she knew I did not know and so.....
My world grew a bit darker, my emotions engulfed me, becoming
bigger than I could hold. I had to reach out, I had to reach out of
my darkness. To the people who care, who love me.
It was only then I learned that I was not alone.
When my heart was so heavy, I could no longer carry it on my
own. I had to lean or fall to the floor. I learned to lean on the
people that will answer a call at 3 a.m. Those that listen, who
are not afraid of my fear, who are not afraid of sadness.
The people who are able to love a whole person, even the pieces
we feel shameful about, the ugly parts that we try to hide form
ourselves. They came spilling out of me onto many a kitchen table,
because my heart was broken open in my grief.
In the warmth of these kitchens with tea in hand, tears falling to
the table, I was not alone.
I learned that we truly are connected. The love between friends
can move across a room in a look of compassion. Injecting my grief
with their light. Our shared words can be carried inside us, pulled
out when we need them. Our laughter flows through it encircles us
and billows out into the world we create.
I'm never alone, I'm surrounded by more love that I could have ever
imagined. It exists beyond time and our mortal senses.
Then the Goddess sighed;
and I could feel in my breath the rhythm of the ocean tides
- j.a_b
we lay Breathing
Together in Sync
our bodies keeping Time
the moment where my Need ends and
your Flesh begins
is a smudged line
my body drapes across yours Pacified
for it has been filled
in the quiet reprieve my Mind wanders
then unhitches
it begins a Dance all its own
each step effortless
for it has done more than practice
its in my Bones
every step rehearsed to a symphony
Out of Time
maybe the problem is my ear
in any sleepy mumble you make
I feel the Dismissal of a curtain call
my Breath pauses, I Skip the intake
Loosing the soft Rhythm of
our Shared breath
instantly you Warmth becomes a place apart
spiraling I roll Away form you
Unable to see your Outstretched Hands
its early, crisp air pinches my cheeks
the stars have gone to sleep and
the moon casts a silver hue on the frosted ground,
the world around us slumbers
in the dark of winter mornings
children transform in to a team,
as they layer on their gear
sleep falls away from their eyes,
they come alive as their skates
scrap across the ice
the echoes of the arenas sooth,
rinsing away the outside world,
in this quiet hour boy become athletes
dream are formed in this cold forge
and men become boys again,
the lonely sound of ice on metal
the echo of a puck against the boards
like church bells calling us home
Parched earth
Desert landscape open and warm
Life pulsing just below the surface
Waiting for you…. You are the rain
Your touch soaks in and brings
forth a bust of life
The rarest blossoms form
in your wake
Not sure if this is a funk that I am in today. I don’t want to go and do the things I have to do. Today feels different than the days where I cannot face the day. Those dark stormy days. This is a completely different texture; I just don’t want to go to the grocery store, or tic the boxes off my to-do list. I want to curl up and…. well be curled up.
The sun is leaking into my living room, my pup is stretched out at my feet, I can hear her soft snores. My coffee cup is still warm. I feel relaxed, like I am beating within the natural rhythm of this day.
How much of this kind of time did I used to have, before trauma over took my life? What did I do with my mornings after I took the kids to school? The memories of that time are bright with laughter and lack shape, they smell of warm bread, craft paints and tomato plants.
I think I read books and puttered around my house. I think I had actual down time. I know that I enjoyed hobbies that have fallen to the waysides of my life now.
It is odd to look back and think, to remember ….
Even odder still to realise that I have forgotten how to just be. So long now I have been running. Revved up in survival mode, running from one moment to the next, stopping only long enough to take big gulping breaths of tight air. Striving each day to make lemonade out of all these damn lemons.
I think I have forgotten how to just be.
So today I’m gonna through my keep-busy-list into the fuck-it bucket. So I can get some practice relaxing.
Diary of the Phoenix 