Wednesday, November 25, 2020

Hands and Hearts

Sometimes if I am paying attention, 

I catch sight of my Nanie hands 

A desert landscape vast and 

Freckled with nurturing kisses from nature

Changing without recollection

of what came before and it is here 

I remember 

Deep curiosity with sneaky eyes

catching glimpses like snapshots of my

grandmother's aging hands:

knitting large afghans effortlessly 

folded neatly on lap at rest and peace

reaching slightly when receiving affection

Weathered like leather, year after year 

they spoke of risk and adventure

deep trenches and uneven terrain 

Striving still with grace and purpose

And now I have found my own hands

Softly shaping skin into dunes resting 

Incomplete without intentional fault lines 

tracking back to random grooves,

scars serving as guideposts for a life lived

Carried by hands 

Stored in hearts 

Broadcasted on faces 

Illuminated through feelings

What do you see when you 

look at your hands?

Where has your journey

carried you?

How will you use them

to find new spaces?

Who will you let hold

them when you need it?

Why does any of this

mean anything?

The answers are written on hands 

Like an existential map book

Traveling by way of our hearts.

Tuesday, July 21, 2020

Saturday, July 18, 2020




is not always
what's real.

Seeking round
that our edges
are sharp
and moving
about space
without caution


we can soften
we can bleed
when we concede
each moment
to the breath
and the anchor
of truth

kind of




is it pain
or disdain
a refrain
to stay sane

time to 
dance in the 

wash ourselves
clean with 
and crystallized

more comfortable
with discomfort

until we can 
hold it all 
united we stand
when we understand
divided we fall
when we miss the call

Tuesday, June 23, 2020

The Lotus

The Meaning Of The Lotus Flower | Zensitize

Stagnantly sitting outside of my core
Vulnerability arrives and opens a door

Breathing in this
My dullness inspired,
An urge to learn more

Clarity is conjured:
A lotus flower vision
complexity and precision

When a mind truly yearns,
It is the heart that learns

"the lotus is a
sacred flower,
symbolizing cosmic

Exhaling out this
Awash in alignment
Insight begins to show

What else is there to know to grow?

Currently steeping
in undeniable truth
the lotus flower rests,
a floater of proof

"give the lotus as much
light as possible"

elevating voices 
and choices

My beauty
my lightness
my grace and
my power 

Sits at the surface
Atop the white ivory tower

Averse to recognize
The sticky resistance 
lurking beneath-
It quells, 
It repels
It ultimately sells

And yet something...


Something.... is missing?

No, there is no evidence of lack
Over-abundance bred privilege
 Under-awareness and slack 

Why is it we overly pour
our own estimations 
of the overly poor?

"too much fertilizer
may cause the lotus
foliage to burn"

We are all one lotus

Separating our superiority 
from the root's work and pain
With refute and disdain,
Beautiful hues slip out of the frame

 I am reminded of my truest
intention:"right speech"
Living to teach 
Meaning to reach 

That which 
We should not

Suspension supports Invention
Propension for Intention

We are all one lotus

Heart Flexes
Mind Pounds
Reactions ripple like pond pebbles
  Or a ringing in the ear
Blocking out slurs from
those I hold dear

Why, why, why all the fear?

I open 
I close

We are all one lotus

"the lotus is associated
with the sun because
it blooms by day,
and closes by night"

I cry 
I bleed
I am not a rose
Yet these thorns
upon me, wishing to feed

We are all one lotus

The hollow ache 
in my center feels  
 woeful and misunderstood-
I see you, I love you
I honor your good.

"Care must be taken
when inserting
fertilizer tabs, 
because the growing
tip and new growth
can be damaged"

My messages lost 
mistaken, unseen
I close again
unliked and unclean

"lotuses started
from seeds will
probably not bloom
the first year"

Listening closely, please tell me you hear?

We must hold on
grows near

Being patient with the slow
Believing bravely we will know
The wisdom is singing up from below
This is how we too shall grow 

We are all one lotus

Rising up from the deep 
Aged suffering
Mischaracterized as cahoots 
Reach down far enough,
We will feel our own roots

"It is important
to protect the 
lotus roots
from freezing"

Leaves and petals
dance with delight
buoyancy supported and white
derived out of muddiness 
Darkness emboldened by night 

"the lotus
is even believed
to have given 
birth to the sun"

When darkness subsides
Our hearts blessed with new sight
Healing our blindness
We are filled with the light 

We are all one lotus

Monday, June 1, 2020

The Sounds of Weightlessness

Rhododendrons reveal
sun cascades 
clipping and casting
shadows on suburban
homes and dreams

And birds flit
it seems these
louder too.

Can they
see it all? 
Can they
hear it all?

Better still,
can WE?

The panic
The injustice
The illness
The void
The meaning

Do they carry 
messages to one
how to get us to 
not just notice
but also
to vote on this?

Can we hear it?

The invisibility
of privilege
and pride
serves as a
weighted blanket
for some,
that there is
"nothing more
to be done here"

After all,
'it's just awful'
a shame'

Clucks of
the tongue
team up with
shakes of
the head
clearing space 
so folks can 
get back in
line at 
for potted
plants and 
grass seed

and I wonder
what's the most
important thing
to grow?

And the 
birds hang
out in the 
garden center
too, you know

they see it all
their chatter 
is everywhere
for those who
truly listen

I'd like
to think
they're all
about the 

rising up in
the streets

that enough 
is finally 
and the 
time to pivot
and shift 
has arrived

we can all learn to 

yet, the terror
that paralyzes
those who
have been long 
served through 
flowers, blankets
now stand
naked, afraid

But this, my friends
is how we are born.

And it
also how
we will 
be born 


Wednesday, May 20, 2020

I am Peace.

As I walk into
my meditation
I imagine myself
opening a door to
and visualize
being able to
step inside
where I will feel it
warm and glowing
like a magic tunnel
a place that will protect
me from suffering
transporting me
away and separate

Sinking deeper
into practice
I lose my grip,
Chaos rushes
in the form of

I grasp
as if
feeling for the
walls of
my peace portal
to bolster me
so that I may
define myself
in space...
only to
find expansiveness
and myself
and the discomfort

Naming it:
I am honoring
with awareness
and a gentle
invitation to

to the breath
to anchor,
the discomfort
slips past
the attachment
the need
for containment

a revelatory
knowing arrives
and it seems
to have
Not from
the mind
the ego


It surfaces
a smile
allowing me
to relish
in a knowingness

that heals
that reveals
that in

my eyes
I tell myself:




And for
I know this
to be true.


Saturday, May 16, 2020

Architect of Connection

Big feelings bloomed in snark and noise
Mutual righteousness adorned each side
Until a sudden "freeze out", silence
Naked emotion stuck, nowhere to hide

Letters were shared bravely bedside

Writing for healing stings as it goes
Vulnerability bled messy into margins
No response-never-exposed once more
Self-doubt and fear growing up in gardens

This is the way a heart hardens

Anxious tendrils, vines of confusion
Emotional neglect quietly worked to rewire
Then an abrupt melting, occurred sans science
First hold ice cubes, next fan the fire

You began to feel like a fraudulent liar

Ego dystonic thoughts without any space
A landscape rife for numbing then shame
"If you plant ice, you're gonna harvest wind" 
Lyrics that danced for decades inside a mental frame

Wondering… will I always feel the same?

Breath that defines life from death 
Gave new hope for inhaling inside of truth
Anchored to the pause, feel it and know
I am whole, connected, this exhale my proof

Mindfulness safeguards from acting aloof

I am not my mother
I am not my father
I was never left behind
I am not my feelings
I am not my thoughts
I do not need to rewind
I am not my own mind
I can choose to remind

Love and wisdom interplay in light
Serving me, healing me with protection
I was never really frozen solid, rather 
Learning to be an architect of connection

THIS is what I see in my reflection.

Friday, May 8, 2020


water color paintings 
through streaky
wet and bright,
a mess of hues
led to completion
through a journey
of liquid squirming
and spreading
tints and tones
the primal effort 
to take up space
all of it 
whether we choose
to acknowledge or not
reminding me of feelings
and their pursuit for
demanding their proper
because they
were created 
to know their purpose:
to roam and leak out
filling in the corners
and mixing about
shapes inside of
insight contained
with madness
and brilliance
until they settle
and make sense
becoming beautiful
the ability
to allow is
hardwired into
all of us so we
learn what is real
learn how to feel
learn where to know
learn when to grow
learn why we go
we are all feelings artists
take a deep breath
and cultivate your
process before the
palette dries out
each day
is a new brush
each feeling
a new stroke
let it flow
curate your collection
do the work 
and let it soak
your life is your
finest masterpiece

Wednesday, May 6, 2020

acceptance and spring

acceptance smells like lilacs
resistance reeks of mold
inhaling spring's sweet messages
avoiding doom bought and sold

the space we give to nature
to change to bend and sway
loans an understanding:
things won't always be this way

winged messages inside the trees
continue to be shared
trust the branches to hold weight
trust we will be spared

faith, belief, grief and loss
teach us how to reframe
guarding us from toxic leaks
empathy cancels out shame

the collective truth of seasons
an antidote for the stressed
notice the center of the flower
beating inside our chest

connection cannot be contained
inside of posts and zooms
be it a place holder for connection
like a bear's winter den rooms

improvise adapt overcome
our power to rise up is now
look out the window with wonder
understand we all know how

walk with this message today:
pain is immediate, sensory and real
notice without getting carried away
prevent suffering, allowing to heal

ringing in our ears like bells
is a prompt to lean into it all 
the wisdom fluttering around us, 
heed a new sounding call 

answer it
answer it
 answer it 


Sunday, April 19, 2020


Pandemic Day 3,245. Or whatever.

In the good ole' days, in an actual school classroom:

Solid engagement/comprehension that slips into a loss of focus -> 
"Okay class, let's break into small groups and review"

Blank stares/confused expressions -> 
"Alright guys, no worries, let me back it up a bit"

Silliness and distraction -> 
"Hey everyone, stand up- let's take a movement break, and do a quick check-in"


Zoom -> "No I don't want to see your mom's's a good idea to put a shirt on...okay, friends- let's do a review of...nope, I MEANT to mute you all...let's just all try to hang in and listen super I don't know why so and so isn't here again...yes, I hope they're okay too..."



Take a wider lens. It's not too late....

Saturday, April 18, 2020

Sunlight meditation

Enjoy this children's meditation I created. May it bring you some peace and warmth.

Gifts and Chances

Truth whispered to me during dinner
Hiding inside family laughter
It rattled inside my heart and soul
And has remained with me long after

It's a gift
It's a gift
It's a gift

to behold

It's a chance
It's a chance
It's a chance

to be bold

Our stories and our shared struggles
Grief making way for smiles
Making space and time to feel
Relationships across miles

This energy fuels new lessons
Transformations and insight
Post traumatic *growth*, more common
Managing stress leads to what's bright

Consider how we view education-
Is it about tests, lessons, or now zoom?
Information dumped inside of brains
Little robots inside a classroom?

Or can we find the wider lens
To examine things we must strain to see
Inflections in tone, side glances and hugs
Regulating forces...ultimately

Invite actions that support coping right now
Take moments to grieve and to fuss
No one is perfect, that's not even fair
And extends to each one of us

But beyond this, I will not stop spreading
A message of light and of hope
Just stay in the moment and you'll find it too
When you shower, really inhale the soap

My family is slowly healing
From invisible wounds unknown
Laughter, projects, discourse, chatter
A new tapestry of love we have sewn

And I worry about the narrative
the "don't worry, it all sucks, just be lame"
and while I hesitate to share my words
I'm not sorry that I don't feel the same

There are heroes that need our honor
Medical and emergency crews
Lesser educated blue collar workers
While we sit home watching the news

Tomorrow is not a given
This pandemic is clear to point out
Today is what we have with each other
So let's flip the teachings inside out

No more lessons or chromebooks
Read stories, play and create
Be lazy and cozy and sad if you need
Then take stock of what's on your plate

Our essential being-ness is here
There is nothing more that we need
Climb out of the story you've been telling
And see you've already been freed.

It's a gift
It's a gift
It's a gift

So behold

It's a chance
It's a chance
It's a chance

So be bold

Thursday, April 16, 2020

Monday, April 13, 2020

The land of in between

There is a relational landscape
that exists in purely
The land of in between

Is the appeal of the beach
trapped inside a frame?

A photo of the sand,
a painting of the water or
a soundscape of waves crashing?


Our love of the beach
comes from our
own individual interpretations
of those things-
the interchange that occurs
when our being-ness
and the being-ness
of these things
come together and
actually meet

There is a certain magic
that is awakened within
when infinite particles of sand
Bleed into the vulnerable spaces
between our toes
inviting us to sink into
warm and uneven flooring,
Surrendering and giving
way to our feet and then minds
and we honor this exchange
as both unusual and seductive

We lean into this and decide:
"I like this"

(And in some cases,
"I dislike this",
and that's okay too)

We witness ocean waves
crashing recklessly
carelessly blending
into the shoreline aching
for contact with more,
Is it trying to access us?

Of course

And then suddenly
a conscious retreat
to rebuild and try again
Swelling and seeking connection
with everything in varying
degrees of intensity and charm

Always folding into
that which

A beginning and end
a presence
where this is simultaneously
understood and undefined

Inside of our breath,
we find the same process-
An inhalation that serves
and then yields,
giving way to that
which comes next.

Waves and breath
work together to
anchor us
to the awareness
of letting go into the




always the calm.

we cannot hear the ocean
we cannot feel the sand
we cannot see the patterns
we cannot smell the surf
we cannot taste the salt

We are deprived of praxis

Delving down we can tug
a bit to locate the anchor
and pulling ever so slightly
our knowing will appear

Breathing in and following
it all the way to the end
We will find on the other
side of the breath

Individual and collective
awareness, greater

The earth is meditating
for our benefit and offering
a sedimentary shift

Step into the marrow
and wade around with
what is evident

Access this inner knowing
and return to the beach
to swim, to sift, to soar,
and to shine.

It's all here. Now.

Monday, April 6, 2020

An open letter to my graduating senior

Dear Ezra,

Graduation has finally appeared on your horizon... and here we are, all inside. It's interesting that I notice a growing awareness of my womb lately. It feels heavy and full, with a low lying sense of aching as well. It resembles a kind of knowing, that includes remembering too. For this my son, is quite like how I felt mere months before you were born. It is imprinted on my heart forever, the day that 9/11 occurred, holding my large belly, wanting to keep you inside and safe forever. When suddenly love and protection did not feel enough. I recall in that aftermath, my heart giving way to profound feelings of fear and a guilty sense that I was somehow exposing you to a toxic new world. I felt irresponsible and the world felt collectively afraid. Planes were grounded, trust was elusive, and I was about to become a mother somehow...inside of it all.

And yet, I recall being struck by small things in those days too, just like now. Things I had previously taken for granted. Things that seemed to not take heed of the darkness that weighed heavy on hearts and minds and paralyzed us all. I noticed the birds and the sun and the sky, mostly. Because in spite of all that was being processed, the sun still rose and set and the birds still sang and the sky still painted pictures for us. And they were beautiful. And I believe part of my healing was allowing myself to feel into those things again. It was these small, grand things that allowed me to be whole enough to bring you forth, 42 days later. Eventually there was a connectedness that came out of that time as well, and it served as a soft landing spot for us all.

It was during this darkness that I found your light. My midwife spoke to me of "la luz" during your delivery. She coached me hard, telling me to envision pulling you up into "la luz" (the light) and to bear down into this and to really see it and feel it and imagine you seeking this too, and moving towards this...and I did. And well, this is how you came to be. You rose up strong and healthy and into great light. And in my heart I had this sense you would not only live a great life, but that you would be great. And I was not wrong.

The sunset delivers this truth and more, to me this morning as I write. Following a month of quarantine, with your senior year slipping fast and loose through your hands, you asked to go see the sunrise this morning. You told me that you created a plan with your friends, that fit within the boundaries that this new world has enforced upon you. You requested to drive, all in separate cars, to a scenic ocean spot, and side by side in your would all consume the sunrise. Together. And apart.
Of course I granted this to you. Of course.

To me, this is both heartbreaking and inspiring all in the same breath. You should be heading to school, to lacrosse practice, to awards nights, to your girlfriend's house, to the basketball court. Instead, after you finish taking in our divine mother earth, doing what she so beautifully does, you will return home. Alone, you will enter your room to turn on your chrome book and finish your school career. My heart is heavy and solemnly sad, and also incredibly proud. All at the same time.

Safe at home, not stuck at home. I have reframed this infinite times to cope in these last several days. To attempt to shape a more helpful lens through which we can all make sense of this. And it does help, usually. But today, I saw that same sunrise you made all your own and felt hopeful. I thought of the day before today too-when cloud cover made it so that there were no rays shining through to start the day. Overcast skies prevented the color palette from bleeding a water color painting onto the sky. The pinks and oranges of today, slowly curling upward, filling the sky were not the scene yesterday. But does this mean it was stuck? No. Of course not. It was still there, safely rising. Just like you.

You are not stuck. None of us are. My pride comes in your deep knowing. I see you managing and navigating this and while you have feelings, you have a knowing inside of you that understands this. Your wisdom understands that you are light. We are all light. This darkness will make way for us to rise up again, and the birds will be there to sing about it. Thank you my son, for reminding me that they are singing about it right now too.

Thank you for teaching me that we are not stuck and our sunrise will come again.