Pick Me, She Said - Never

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          Day Eleven

          When I was young, and so badly wanted a partner to share life with, I was never able to think - much less say - why someone should choose me. I  hoped  they would, of course, but I feared that, once they knew me, they would find me wanting, unlovable, not enough.

           Anyone I admired, I ran from; never could I set my sights that high. I attracted what you might expect: emotionally unavailable, cruel, using people who betrayed me and broke my heart till I didn't want the pain any more. I gave up on finding love. A big black wolf taught me how love was supposed to be. But by then I had given up on finding love with a human. That is why I mourned his death so hard, and am mourning still.

Now that I know my worth, this is what I might have said, had I had a different beginning in life: 

1. I have a kind heart.
2. I don't like confrontation or discord.
3. Peacefulness is more necessary to me than love (but I find love everywhere, by loving the whole world).
4. I like to help people.
5. I love to give people gifts.
6. I have a zany sense of humour, and I cackle.
7. I am very  broad-minded. 
8. I have respect and great empathy for other cultures, in this Euro-dominated, racist society we live in. I don't see "colour"; I see people.
9. I have great hope that global consciousness will evolve in time to save the planet.
10. I have great fear that it won't.
11. Don't even get me started on donald trump.
12. I love dogs more than people.
13. I love people more than scorpions, but with the same wariness extended to both. Smiles.

No one picked me; but after I chose myself, life got a lot happier.

Day Eleven of Wild Writing with Laurie Wagner

The Vortex

The vortex swirled her
round and round
and when it spit her out
she found
she was back where she began:
home to herself
from whom she once ran.

That voice that she had
held within
emerged from out
the whirling spin.
The voice said to her
"Let's begin
the looking out and looking in."

Words and words and words and words -
she lived her life in decades, thirds,
a book for all her fingers, toes,
and when they were complete -
she rose.


Smiles. Some days the words want to play. Writing with  Elizabeth Crawford  to the soul cards of  Deborah Koff Chapin

An Inner Tree

Art Card by Deborah Koff Chapin

Wild Woman had to grow an inner tree,
of necessity,
in order to be strong enough
to support the four young saplings
growing off her trunk
when times grew tough.

They thrashed and heaved in the wind.
Wild Woman stood firm,
in order that they should find
some strength to cling to
as they pitched and turned.

Wild Woman's roots reached
deep down in the earth to steady her toes.
She rested at night, then,
in morning light, restored,
like the sun, she rose.

Even trees get tired. Wild Woman aged.
The time came when it was their turn
to fly, to make great wheeling arcs
across the sky.
Wild Woman let them go.
She was no sage
but knew they'd find their own way,
by and by.


Making the Soul Card Journey with Elizabeth Crawford.

If You Knew

If you knew this was your last day,
or week, or month,
how would you spend it?
What would you tell people?
Would you pick up the phone more often,
speak words of love and appreciation?

Would you sit at the shore for hours,
watching the forever waves
endlessly advancing and retreating,
until, behind your eyelids,
they were engraved forever
on your heart?

Here’s how it is:
we have this moment, now.
No more are promised.
The ferryman will come.
We knew this when we bought the ticket.
He will glide beside the dock,
and nod: we will step in.
It will be too late then
to change what might have been.

Here’s what I really want you to know:
I carry it all in my heart: summer days
under my grandma’s weeping willow,
teardrops and song under a teenage moon,
young motherhood, with all the struggle,
and the laughter, all those leggy children
laughing in the sun; I carry it all,
the coming home to myself,
my great leap to the sea,
the big black wolf who taught me
all that love could be.
I carry it all with me: the gifts,
the gratitude, the sorrow,
 (for the recipe, my friends,
has always included sorrow.)
It has been more than I ever dreamed,
and all that it could be. 
My heart is full to the brim
with gratitude and wonder,
should I depart Tomorrow.

Day Ten of Wild Writing with Laurie Wagner

The Tree of My Being

Photograph by Raluca Caragea

I leaped into the mirror

of my unknowing,

climbed a distant hill,

with difficulty encountering

the Tree of my Being,

and learning at last 

the Art of Being Still.

Arms turned into branches,

waving in the breeze.

With all my leaves at ease,

my trunk grew strong and sure.

My transformation had come

just in time,

made stalwart, stout,

so that I might

endure.

for The Sunday Muse

Bird

Mother Goddess breathed me into being.
"Go forth, Small Bird," she said,
"and sing your song wherever
it belongs. When no one
wants to hear, sing loud and strong.
You'll never get it wrong."

For years, I walked with wings
folded and fettered. Then came the time
when they rose and set me free.
I saw farther than I had ever
dared to see. When I returned
to earth, I knew,
the Seeing had forever
altered me.


Writing, along with Elizabeth Crawford at  Soul's Music, to the image by Deborah Koff-Chapin at https://touchdrawing.com/

The Recipe Has Always Included Sorrow

To live in this world you must develop
a rubber-soled (souled?) heart.
It leads you forward into the fire,
seeking love to fulfil you,
till you lose all reason, then lose love itself,
and have to rebuild yourself from the ground up.

To live in this world, you must learn, many times,
that all that you hold most dear
will be lost, no matter how tightly
you grasp it. In fact, the more tightly
you hold on, the more certainly
the day will come when it is wrenched from you,
or simply turns its back and walks away.
So you learn to surrender, learn to just be
with what is, Now,
be ready, when the time comes,
to be grateful for the gift,
to open your curled fingers
and let what you most loved in the world
fly away.

To live in this world, you will be taught this lesson
more than once. It will be repeated until
you learn to keep your touch light
on the dear ones around you, to recognize
at the going in that there will be a coming out,
which is probably why the old
are so gentle and nostalgic,
so close to trembling tears,
and why our eyes are so wise
and knowing and sad.

To live in this world, you must develop
a high hopeful heart, a merry laugh,
(and, as you age, a cackle).
You must always keep in mind,
(riding on your left shoulder and
whispering in your ear,)
that the recipe for love, my friends,
has always included sorrow.

Day Eight of Wild Writing with Laurie Wagner