Safe Choices
Today CK and I attempted a long, hard drive home from Sacramento. This is a drive we've done in one day before, but we'd stayed up late last night and we were enjoying the company of her Mom and step-dad this morning, which meant we got a late start. CK's stomach was really bothering her, probably a delay from the weekly antibiotics she's been taking for her suppressed immune system stuff.
We'd driven her "new" car down. While I had learned to drive it, a manual transmission, with relative ease, it wasn't something I felt confident in yet. We started to get rain and the car handles far, far differently in the mountain curves than my trusty Suburu, so CK resumed driving.
Then we passed the remainder of a really very bad accident, a smashed car resting on the roof, on a winding, mountain road.
We reached out to friends to take care of our cats tonight, found a good hotel room where Dora is welcome, and stopped for the night. I've sent a message on to work. We'll get up in the morning, reasonably early, but well rested, drive home and work from home tomorrow.
I was so profoundly relieved when we made this decision, that we have this tremendous luxury of being able to make this safe choice, that I realized that I wasn't beating myself up too much. The relief and gratitude are just so big that the thoughts that I should have practiced more with the new car or planned better are pretty quiet.
Really, I'm just grateful to be in a warm, safe, nice place with my wife and our dog. I know our kitties have been well looked after. I even got to sit in the hot tub we didn't know we'd have access to.
Sunset - Grants Pass, Oregon - April 13, 2012
Gratitude Wins
Above any
Nagging
Voice that
Says I
Should have
Done or said
Anything
Different or
Better.
There is
The awesome
Luxury of choosing
Caring for the self
Which
Offers a relief
That makes me
Giddy with gratitude.
Self Identify
On Saturday we saw a performance of The Vagina Monologues that featured CK's Mom performing one of the pieces. It was fantastic, moving, and I feel so privileged to have been there.
At the end the directors asked everyone in attendance to stand if they were the survivor of sexual abuse or domestic violence. It is hard for me at times like this. I feel a little like a traitor because I don't stand. I feel ashamed.... and then I feel ashamed of my shame.
Ugly. It too is a Practice. Someday it won't be so terrifying to stand or someday I'll just be alright with the fact that it terrifies me to self identify as a survivor of abuse, particularly a survivor of sexual abuse.
Powerful Art - Sacramento, California - April 14, 2012
Metta Prayer for All Survivors
May I be
Freed from
The misery
Of shame.
May I
Be released
From the thought
That somehow
It was my fault.
May I
Rest in the
Truth that I
Didn't
Do anything
Wrong.
May all
Survivors
Be free from
Anxiety and fear.
May we all
Be at ease.
May we all
Be happy.
Daffodils
Bright yellow flashes.
Flowers dotting the landscape.
Messengers of spring.
Blurry, but beautiful daffodil and hidden spider - Grants Pass - April 13, 2012
Holes in Stone
Holes in Stone - Lincoln City - September 2011
Stone studded with holes.
Reminder that even rock
Is subject to change.
Eddies in the Dust of Rage
Broken Piano Foot - Our Basement, Portland, Oregon - June 2010
Today was another page in the Troubles of Mom, sadly. Still don't want to say much in such a public forum, but the end result is that I'm feeling angry and sad tonight. So angry that the poetry I come up with is something like this:
Anger.
Angry.
Angrier.
Rage.
sigh
I'm reminding of a song from Bruce Cockburn, "Pacing the Cage", which has the amazing lyrical image of "eddies in the dust of rage". The difficult waiting game, waiting out the rage, reminds me a lot of this song tonight.
And then on my commute home there was an enormous rainbow, clearly seen in a glorious arc across a gray, spring sky.
It is hard practice sitting between the simple joy of rainbows and unethical people hurting my Mom. Practicing with my own anger very certainly feels like all the training wheels are off.
And yet, there is this nagging commitment to poetry...
Waiting with Anger
Difficult
Is the
Practice
of patience.
Distilling
Anger,
Impatience,
Irritation,
Into the
Stillness
Of the
Heron fishing.
There's a video on YouTube of Bruce Cockburn performing "Pacing the Cage", check it out!
Season of Loss
Paper Memorial "Stupa" - Westminster, Colorado - May 2011
Season of Loss
In my dreams
Last night
You were there.
Still smiling,
That sparkle
Was as as bright
As I remembered.
Your laughter
A song.
When I awoke
Another spring
Was blooming
Awake outside,
Vibrant and alive.
Another season
Without you.
I was dreamed of my friend Jen last night, who left us just over a year ago.
Baby Veggies
Baby Brassicas - Portland, Oregon - May 2011
Reaching to the sun.
Young vegetables growing
Into nourishment.
Apple Blossoms
Apple Blossoms, Old Town, Portland, April 2012
Clusters of petals
Hang from thin stems, fluttering.
Spring's dancing clouds.
Clocks
Clock Tower, UC Berkley, May 2010
My Father's
Clock sits
On the table.
Still and
Silent.
A reminder
Of both
Time
And
Loss.
Waiting to
Become useful
Again.
Morning Dove
Denver international Airport, May 2011
Morning dove calling.
For a moment I am caught,
Standing, listening.