Under the Weather

November 11, 2017November 11, 2017 becomingandbeholdingLeave a comment

Nothing like a virus

to help you appreciate

normal breathing.

Wheeze, sputter

blow, cough.

Normal comes to a stop.

Voice exercises?

Ha!

Good luck with that.

My pipes are clogged –

making my voice

sound like a cat about

to hurl a hairball.

Hydrate, hydrate.

Rest and sleep –

Being sick sucks.

I am not good

at slowing down –

interrupting my patterns.

I prefer to stay on track

to be in my well-crafted groove.

Huh.

Damn.

Maybe that is the point.
More tea, Honey?

Infant Poet

November 8, 2017 becomingandbeholding1 Comment

It is the strangest thing

when a poem takes over.

Kidnapped by it,

sometimes it lifts me above

to broaden my view –

or it can

lean me forward

with such focus,

everything else falls away

except the nub of it all.

Expanding and contracting,

I breathe the poem

and it breathes me.

We are one,

locked in a gentle tussle

until it is time

for the poem to be born.

I never thought of myself

as a poet.

It feels like a gift

given to an infant –

like a mobile hanging above a crib,

like a toy

to keep me busy

and broaden my senses –

to show me who I am

and help me

find my words.

There is an awkwardness –

but also,

deep joy

and a radiance that

nourishes.

I have come to rely

on my poems.

They are a gift

akin to the blessing

of having a loving parent

whose embrace

shows me the way.

Poem · Poetry

Still You

October 28, 2017 becomingandbeholding2 Comments

Oh, yes,

The seasons come and go,

bringing new ways

of being.

Sometimes you shine with new growth,

literally bursting at the seams –

brilliant in shiny young green.

And then there are the periods

when what is not needed

must fall away –

the colors indicating

how bold you are

to face the loss

of what is attached.

And yet,

through it all –

despite how the winds have shaken you,

or how crowded your field has become,

you remain.

Your roots run deep,

they grasp, expand,

and strengthen

as your rings widen.

Your center

is deeply connected to the eternal.

So, my friend,

the lesson here

is to understand at your core

that though the changes come –

whether welcomed,

or not,

you are not the changes.

You are

still you.

Image created by my sister, Martha Harris

Poem · Poetry

This Heart

October 24, 2017October 24, 2017 becomingandbeholdingLeave a comment

I suppose I am
one of the lucky ones.
I got a heart that was loved
from the beginning –
despite imperfect parents,
with broken hearts of their own.

I knew from the beginning
that I was loved.

That is huge.

My heart had a grounding –
an ontological gift,
an understanding that
no matter what,
it was worthy of affection.

That grounding
has been my strength.
It has lifted me above the long
and bumpy road by
connecting me
to the Divine.
A kind of safety ladder…

Through many seasons of lack
and longing
have I arrived
finally
to a place of fullness –
even bursting!
I have been filled up
and pried open
with the gentle tool
of growing awareness
of what a heart can be –
what a heart can do.

This is my heart:
open and ready –
stretching to you.
Free!

Take and seal it.

Poem · Poetry

Interdisciplinary

October 18, 2017October 18, 2017 becomingandbeholdingLeave a comment

It takes all of us
to bring you home;
to follow your lead
while you demonstrate what you need –
how we can help.
Sometimes you don’t know.
After all,
this is a first for you.
We understand.
So we show you the way.

At first,
it is all about the pain
in all its potential forms
and impact.
Then it is
all about the Love –
given and received
over a lifetime
and in this moment.
We help unwrap
how Love endures
through it all.

We have travelled this road
with so many.
But no one is
exactly like you.

We are here.
Right next to you.
Each of us tasked
with a different
aspect of you –
the whole picture of you
and the life you were given.

As witnesses to your
soul’s journey,
we catch merely a glimpse
of the mystery
ahead
that calls to us all.
Thank you for that.
The comfort flows both ways.

We will never forget you.

Poem · Poetry

Morning Walk

October 18, 2017October 18, 2017 becomingandbeholdingLeave a comment

We are built to move
the way a bird is built to fly
or a flower is built to bloom.
Sleep has a way of stiffening us –
setting us in our ways and patterns
long in place –
like a mold we conform to.
Heck,
the couch can do the same
as it swallows us.
But a morning walk
can loosen
broaden,
unfold and inspire.
I literally start my day
by moving forward.
I spring out of bed
for this.

Poem · Poetry

What If?

October 18, 2017 becomingandbeholdingLeave a comment

You know that time
when you put your phone down
so you could attend to me instead?

Or that moment when I was starving,
and about to eat my 20 gram protein bar in the car
but saw a homeless man in the intersection,
and chose to go hungry –
handing him the bar through my open window
with a smile
and no regrets.

Or, how about
that day when I was terribly hurt and angry
and simply let it all go,
suddenly, and with faith and forgiveness
so I could refocus
on something larger than me,
beyond the anger
and the suffocating hurt.
Both just disappeared into a peaceful feeling.

There is a thread –
powerful in its connection
through these moments.
It seems to show
that when we step aside –
dare another way,
beautiful things can happen.

It makes me wonder…
What if?
What if God is the thread?
And the thread connects us to Love
And, well, everything that matters?

And what if God needs us?
Needs us to get out of our own way
and notice the thread?
What if
WE MAKE GOD HAPPEN?

Poem · Poetry

Singing a New Song

October 15, 2017October 15, 2017 becomingandbeholding1 Comment

Not sure how it happened

whether it was gradual

or sudden.

I wish I could remember

the moment it all changed –

when my voice no longer matched

the person that I am.

Suddenly,

it hurt to speak –

not only physically,

but existentially.

It has been a painful five years.

Do you know what it is like

to hate the sound of your own voice?

To feel the inward disdain

and embarrassment?

To see the expressions of others change

when you dare to speak?

To bravely express yourself despite it all

and then to feel the pain of faulty speech patterns?

It has a way of shutting a person up,

holding you back.

But now I have hope again,

hope of a voice that sings effortlessly,

a voice that is a joy to listen to,

lilting and silky,

warm and welcoming –

powerful in its message and impact,

comforting and present.

I have hope of healing

the incongruence

of who I am and how I sound.

You see,

I have all this love in my heart

and a soul that needs expression.

Now that I am getting real help with my voice problem,

my whole life is opening up

to what I can be and do

as a beneficial presence for others.

Let the healing commence.

I am in!

Poem · Poetry

Blessed Assurance

September 27, 2017September 27, 2017 becomingandbeholding2 Comments

No more a need

to solve, cling, or do.

I am done with all that.

Breathe.

Just be.

I turn my attention outward

trusting that inwardly,

I am whole.

This is an important shift

and not one that is

familiar –

a down shift,

into trust –

rather than constant acceleration.

True freedom comes in

letting go of the wheel,

not needing to see the road ahead.

Gradually, I am learning to be

more of a passenger.

It is strange how unfamiliar it feels.

I have learned so deeply

to be on my own,

driving solo.

But I repeatedly follow the wrong directions

being the simple human

I have learned to be,

confused by which GPS to heed.

Now I call upon my divine nature.

It has taken decades to

own it.

Such a beautiful feeling…

to know it is not all

up to me –

that no map is needed.

A look back

in the rear view mirror

confirms.

All is well –

and has been all along the way.

Blessed be.

Poem · Poetry

She Kept to Her Schedule

September 24, 2017September 24, 2017 becomingandbeholdingLeave a comment

I remember a time
when time was not just another consumable,
and moments were embraced
instead of thrown away by distraction
and the addiction to over-doing.
A time when moments were moments
and clocks were wall decorations,
their faces barely noticed.
There was no inward push
or unrelenting need to get from here to there,
to check off this list or that.
I remember a time
when moments unfolded
with youthful joy and presence.
That was eons ago.

When did keeping time morph into losing it?
We schedule, we plan, we run around getting things done
and in a flash, another day is done.
Do the morning routine,
get the workout in,
clean up and put on the public face and accessories,
suffer the commute,
work long hours,
scrape together some nutrition,
eat fast and mindlessly,
catch up with social media,
the news,
go to bed.
Then try to sleep with a restless mind in full gear,
still ticking through your list.
Get up.
Do it all over again.
Time is spent.

But not wisely.

Life is short.
We all say it,
but few of us get it
until we get to be fifty something
and our friends start getting sick and dying.
Life is really short!

What if we get to the end of our life,
and this is what our tombstone says:
“Loving mother and wife. She kept to her schedule.”

Ouch.

We must learn the art of The Stop.
Stop the inner push that moves us forward
into the next thing
when we have not even experienced
what is before us
right now.

How many times have I been so busy planning
that I forget to notice
what is in my current vision?
How many times have I missed the colors, the beauty, the scents
the loved one next to me
because I am in my head
instead of my moment?

How many times have I pretended to listen
while I get something else accomplished simultaneously?
How often did I forget to look into your eyes
to see the longing
or the love there?

We are taught to do
instead of to be.
We are deceived into believing
that filling up our days with busyness
means we are doing well in life.
It is not true.

We must stop.
Push the pause button as often as possible.
Notice. Relish. Honor. Appreciate.
Embrace fully
as if our life depended on it,
because it does.

Otherwise, we spend our life
like we are on a credit card binge
which leaves us empty and bankrupt
in the end.

Life is short.