Fall

curl_by_schnitzelyne-d6rz86y

Curling.

An autumn leaf

Turns from cooling sun

Embracing essence

Hopeful of survival

Against seasonal odds

Brace against the embraceable

Contain the essence of self

Protect against harsh influence

Survive beyond thirst

Beyond potential comfort

Cling to breath

And blessing

Survive.

 

Words errant

images stolen from the internet

dance_in_the_shutter_IX_by_mehmeturgut

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Eyes

starry_eyes__by_emmixxalot

The eyes tell all. I always look to a persons eyes to get a sense of who they are. In some cultures this is behaviour is not acceptable, yet I still steal glimpses. I cannot help myself. The thing I remember most about my two older brothers when we were growing up are their eyes, even when they were raging against the world, when they raged against our parents, each other, or God. I saw it all in their eyes. The little sister who they were supposed to protect but who intimidated, irritated and impositioned them, I saw their despair, their pain, their righteousness and their love. I was too small to protect them, they did, many times protect me and I found ways I could save them, ways they may never know about. All our collective childhood trauma aside something is happening to us all this year. Each of us is suffering from an accident that has physically grounded us, stilled us and forced us to face ourselves, face our inner selves. I am proud to find we are connecting, communicating and expressing love and support to one another despite the difference in each others experience, to heal what appears to me to be a deep seated family trauma. We shared the experiences and have attempted to heal but have found ourselves stuck over and over, unable to communicate through fear, apparent separation and now finally, through the language of pain and acceptance, we have found one another again. Life is oddly synchronous and utterly beautiful.

Errant

Ear parcels… “Everyone carries a room about inside them. This fact can be proved by means of the sense of hearing. If someone walks fast and one pricks up one’s ears and listens, say at night, when everything round about is quiet, one hears, for instance, the rattling of a mirror not quite firmly fastened to the wall.”

Radiohead – Daydreaming

Otis Taylor – Resurrection Blues

Images:

Image 1 courtesy of TalesOfNightWing

Image 2 courtesy of Emmixxalot on deviantart

Quality time

Geek alert; I helped my son build a computer tonight. He has been planning and saving for 6 months. Today the final parts arrived, the cat was banished into one of the bedrooms and we began. I’ve never seen a computer as sexy until now. That moment after installing the graphics card (such a tremulous moment) and we powered it up waiting to see if we had the wining combination, we cheered and pranced about like idiots before opening the cd drive and giving his creation her brain or operating system. My son was tearful and said ‘I was so scared I’d broken my baby before she was born’. Triumph at our house, a new being born and she is sexy as hell.

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Now a proud daughter

Errant

Just to keep it real.

Here I am not dancing with my eyes closed.

 

Beloved,

Let us make this world

something to be voraciously proud of

I was born into a darkness

I did not understand

With my own two hands

I learned to fathom

to become all I could

to continue becoming

tirelessly,

I work to make it a kinder place

we have great influence

if you give the world

the love you want to feel

 

I post this link because these two songs together nicely encapsulate the world I was born into and who I have become.

Bear with me, have patience, humour me if you will and listen to this lengthy and fun (bottle of vino anyone?) live performance.

There is another option for those that have ‘become comfortably numb’

 

 

 

Siblings

Today was one of thoughtful reminiscing, thinking of my brother and his daughter who has been and still is in such a dark place. I sat at lunchtime in the calm of a local park, alone with my thoughts firmly set on my brother when these two little siblings appeared…

Ducklings

In the wrong season (autumn descends upon us here in the Southern hemisphere) they cling to and care for one another. I wish I had recorded the audio of their language, peeping consistently to one another in the most captivating way.

I embraced my brother tonight speaking more honestly than I have in a long time. It did us both good. We grew up within the same dysfunctional environment which has affected us both in different yet similar ways. It feels good to be able to offer him what humble words of recollection and wisdom I have, and I know that for the first time he is hearing them.

Somber

Sweet sixteen and she has scarred herself deep again.

Not quite enough to depart

But enough for us to know she intended it to be so.

So again we wait,

Wait on the knifes edge,

Wait on her bitter whim,

Wait to see if the fear will overcome her,

Praying she finds the courage to live.

 

師傅領進門, 修行在個人

Teachers open the door. You enter by yourself.

Gifted

One of my maternal great uncles was a gifted healer; what in many cultures would be called a prophet or shaman, he had no specific religious affiliation and spoke of God in many forms. It wasn’t until much later in my life that I realized he was a man of great renown. Of course growing up with him in my life, although I knew he was unique and incredibly important to me, I did not see what those from the outside saw. He guided me and kept me safe. I was very unwell through my early years and he would always turn up with freshly caught fish in hand for my mother and he would heal me and teach me how to remain well.

In his later years (at 70) my uncle ended up spending many years in jail. He was accused of a crime that I know he did not commit, how do I know? Because he taught me some of the most important lessons of my life I know his spirit and it was just not possible for him to have committed this crime, it would have been against everything he stood for. His, our, family abandoned him. I was forbidden to see him or talk to him. I was a young teenager at the time. The man who had for all my years of life been caring for me and teaching me had been demonized. The insincerity that there were others within the family that had committed far worse crimes living freely, unpunished and kept close within the family meant that I withdrew myself from these people. Including my parents. The ban on contact/communication was so strong that when I asked my mother a few years later how he was because I couldn’t sense him anymore she looked at me oddly and said he was dead.

A few years after his death I had a chance encounter with his closest friend a man I had never met. A friend and I were on a trip and she asked if we could stop off to visit her spiritual mentor. He was a prophet or channel of sorts; my uncle had been his mentor. We arrived and I sat apart to let my friend have her time with the man. Suddenly he asked me why I was there. It was a rhetorical question with deeper meaning than “I am here because my friend and I are sharing a car ride”. He then asked me directly what Frank meant to me. I was surprised but explained that he had been my great uncle. He rose and went to get something. When he returned he told me that my uncle had served great purpose during his time in jail. The hardest, most violent and disturbed criminals were put in with Frank and his presence and way of being calmed them and changed them. He handed me a poem my uncle wrote when he was in jail and said that he believed it was for me. He then went on to tell me all that I had not known about my uncle and he reminded me that Frank had never forgotten me.

 Although I had never doubted my uncle I hated that he had been accused and found guilty of a crime. I hated that my family had ostracized him partially for what he was and then because of what he was accused of. It was like they had agreed that they had always thought that he was ‘evil’ or ‘strange’ and here was the justification. It planted a seed of fear within me that if we use our gifts the light we create draws the darkness to it. I had felt it in my own life over and over. The brighter I burned the more darkness found me. I could see that people were afraid of me, or what I represented for them. So I doused the light and donned a myriad of masks to hide behind. As I lift the veils that shroud me I feel so much pain my heart cannot bear it but I must allow myself to feel it so that the capacity for love that I have within me can shine. I cannot remain in hiding anymore. The thought that clearly came to me today, as I realized this and started to let my heart open to the deep hurt within me, was of my uncle and his poem:

Light in the Cell

And a light shined in my cell

And there was not any wall

And there was no dark at all

Only Thou, Immanuel.

Light of love shined in the cell

Turned to gold the iron bars

Opened windows to the stars

Peace stood there as sentinel.

Dearest Lord, how can it be

That thou art so kind to me?

Love is shining in my cell

Jesus, my Immanuel.