of the shuttle bus this morning on the way to the airport
a older irish gentleman picked me and was quite chipper for such an early morning
i appreciate that
off we went to pick up passenger #2
hitting every red light on the way
we passed an old building on our left and he told me about the time
he was in that building when the big earthquake hit
that's why that one wall is taller than the others
everything else crumbled
passenger #2: an older black woman from Nassau Bahamas
oh wowl, you're going somewhere warm!
yes and no
she was flying back alone for her sister's funeral
she had come to the US in the 50's
the irishman was stationed outside of Cuba in the 60's and
had visited the Bahamas often
he spoke of deep sea diving and catching "conk"
great for soup
oh how she loved conk ~ one of her favorite foods
had I had conk before? no, never had.
well i need to.
yes, i guess i do.
the rain poured down on our way over the bay bridge into san francisco and even with the early morning hour there was traffic
the irishman continued to talk and she would chime in when necessary
i sat quiet in the backseat
i think i could of sat in that backseat all day long listening to their voices
and their stories
I've been running like there is someplace to get to
I've been running like nothing or anyone will wait for me
I've been running towards something I can't see
I don't really know how else to be
I have ideas and wonders and dreams and if I don't act on them NOW
then what will happen??
I don't feel like I'm doing anything "well" right now
I don't feel like my attention is any "one" place
My mind races and I'm realizing I'm spinning out of control
It's time to get a handle on the wheel and pull it back,
Move over to the side and take a break, make a pit stop
Really, Really, Really
look at what I want and what I'm doing
Slowing down...it's a good thing
I saw you on the corner, waving your sign
You were watching all of us in our cars driving by
since the light was green
You looked down once the light changed
What were you thinking?
Were you hoping and praying for someone to roll their window down?
Were you thinking about where you were going next?
Were you thinking about where the food would come from or where you were going stay that night?
I sat there listening to Bon Jovi on the radio while my car idled at the light
And I thought how one moment can change our lives forever....
the intensity of his blue eyes
the thoughts I can read from just one glance
the times we both look at one another and say the same thing
the back and forth banter we sometimes engage in
the support and love i feel daily
the way he laughs, the way he plays
the way he fathers
the way he loves
(paradise found in a bathroom ~ Lolo's SF)
Each day, make it a point to feel joy and gratitude for their most excellent
beauty and power -- as well as the beauty and power that are still ripening
and will one day appear in full bloom.
(via Rob Brezsny's Astrology Newsletter)
Essay On The Personal by Stephen Dunn
Because finally the personal
is all that matters,
we spend years describing stones,
chairs, abandoned farmhouses—
until we're ready. Always
it's a matter of precision,
what it feels like
to kiss someone or to walk
out the door. How good it was
to practice on stones
which were things we could love
without weeping over. How good
someone else abandoned the farmhouse,
bankrupt and desperate.
Now we can bring a fine edge
to our parents. We can hold hurt
up to the sun for examination.
But just when we think we have it,
the personal goes the way of
belief. What seemed so deep
begins to seem naive, something
that could be trusted
because we hadn't read Plato
or held two contradictory ideas
or women in the same day.
Love, then, becomes an old movie.
Loss seems so common
it belongs to the air,
to breath itself, anyone's.
We're left with style, a particular
way of standing and saying,
the idiosyncratic look
at the frown which means nothing
until we say it does. Years later,
long after we believed it peculiar
to ourselves, we return to love.
We return to everything
strange, inchoate, like living
with someone, like living alone,
settling for the partial, the almost
satisfactory sense of it.
i am feeling very moved to acknowledge the women who have given me so many gifts of love, inspiration, a listening ear, a hug, acknowledgment....the list goes on and on....
To my great - grandmothers whom I didn't get a chance to know but heard so many great stories of, to my 2 grandmas who I can't wait to see again this summer. To my own mother, to her sisters and all my aunts. To my 2 sisters, to my 2 daughters. To all my cousins and all their daughters. To all my dear friends who are like my soul sisters. To all of my creative sisters, to everyone who lifts my spirit daily.
THANK YOU ~ from the bottom of my soul and then some...
they remind me to slow down
to really really slow down
i always seem to be on the go
trying to get it all done
trying to check things off the list
trying to make sure i'm not left behind
i realize that this is all in my head
i've always been like this
always trying to get around the next corner before....
before what?
to find what?
slow is good
slow is necessary
slow is something i'm learning
slow is something i'm enjoying...little by little
the morning opened with a dash to this and that
the morning opened with a bit of sadness
the morning opened with a bit of sun and clouds
the morning opened with helping them
the morning opened with some things not unraveling "just right"
the morning opened with a touch of sweetness
the morning opened with a smile of kindness
the morning closed with a bit of love, understanding and being heard
