Not Up to Me

December 1, 2017December 1, 2017 becomingandbeholding2 Comments

Like gears that click into place,

making everything

smooth and running as it should,

the moment you arrive,

you get it.

You get everything.

The Bible calls it

“the secret place of the Most High.”

You deeply know when you are there –

because everything before you

disappears into peace, Love

and the amazing Presence –

including you.

Sounds scary but

it is actually beautiful.

This is true freedom,

the letting go

and letting God.

Don’t let your gears get stuck

by grasping too hard

onto your special brand

of misdirection.

There is nothing to do

or figure out.

Divine Design has it.

Simply trust.

And Love.

Release your grip –

and again,

and again.

Everything is in place

and all is well.

It is not up to you

to figure it out.

Don’t Let Go

November 21, 2017November 21, 2017 becomingandbeholdingLeave a comment

Like a warm blanket

takes the chill away

from my weighted shoulders,

your Presence is sweet comfort.

When alert,

I catch glimpses of you,

and they are just enough

to enliven

that inner pilot light

you so gracefully set

to burn within me.

Sometimes it burns fiercely

and then I know –

that is what flames are meant to do.

You are with me all the time.

You are my inner light,

waiting to flame up

every time I dare

to share its healing energy.

I surrender to the flame,

to its powerful glow,

trusting that

when the chill dares to set in

from time to time –
when I manage to turn away

for a minute

or a month,

you will wrap me up in your

inviting Presence,

hold me close,

and re-light the flame.

Don’t let go.

Poem · Poetry

Grateful Heart

November 18, 2017March 10, 2018 becomingandbeholding7 Comments

There is a lifting above

and a grounding below,

a warming at the center –

when I remember.

It is like the unexpected gift

presented with love

and perfect timing.

Or the lightness of being

that comes

with surrender

and trust –

even in the midst of

struggle or pain.

I hold onto it

even as I let go,

allowing the divine

to move through,

heal me with its dawning.

“I was born with a grateful heart,”

says the patient

on her dying bed.

I marvel at the gift she has

and how it fills her up at the end,

easing the way.

And then I remember,

so was I.

Poem · Poetry

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

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

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.

Poem · Poetry

Inspiration

September 24, 2017September 24, 2017 becomingandbeholdingLeave a comment

Trying to coax you

feels dishonest – and yet,

I do not know how to proceed

without you with me.

I love our usual rhythm

when you bubble up like a fountain

or surprise me with a flash.

The light you bring leads the way.

It is as if, like an eager child,

you grab me by the wrist,

pulling me with all your might,

to see what your wide eyes see,

to open to what is being born right before me.

This is our ritual,

our occasional awkward dance.

I long to know you better,

to deepen the intimacy between us

with more regular meetings.

I get jazzed when we can be together –

You, the lightening bug-

Me, the catcher.

But you are an unpredictable one,

mysterious in your ways

and sneaky.

I never know when you will appear.

You are always in the driver’s seat

while I ride shotgun,

trying to trust in the route you put me on.

You show up,

and I am knocked out of my usual rhythm,

suddenly consumed by your presence.

I love those moments.

They are like electricity lighting me up

on all circuits.

It is as if

you give birth to me all over again,

but in little flashes of light

to direct my unfolding.

I dare not ignore your brilliance.

Poem · Poetry

Noticing

September 10, 2017 becomingandbeholding1 Comment

The way it feels

when I dare to step away from patterns

long held onto

with a tight knuckle grip

as a way to hold me up,

glue me together.

The look in your eyes

when I am really paying attention,

allowing my heart to open to you.

The soaring freedom that sends me

to new depths and heights

all at the same time

when I get out of my own way.

How pain disappears

when my attention turns in a divine direction

instead of towards my navel,

so clogged with repetitive angst.

How a long walk by the sea washes me

of all the garbage

I have allowed to enter my soul –

a baptism of surf and sound,

wind and grace.

The thunder of the surf rocking me,

holding me with an eternal embrace.

Oh, how healing that is!

How the voice of a great singer

sends my spirit soaring

and beckons me to use my voice

with full expression and power,

freeing it

and healing me from the multitude of ways

I have held it back.

How Love is present,

when I am present

whether with the dying,

my love,

or my cat.

Turning away from the moment

robs me,

robs us –

of God’s company.

Waking up is a beautiful thing –

a peeling of the layers –

that so strangle and constrict.

We think these layers are important

but they are all false construction.

I love the release as they fall away

allowing a deeper joy

to be found.

I am noticing

two openings:

my eyes with inspired vision,

my heart with a tender softening.

Both are wrapped up in deep peace.