from when you died

there are missing pages in my

diary from when you died.

 

it was not a time for growing

poetry; all the words went in-

 

to the eulogy—which made every

thing else seem meaningless: even

 

music felt foreign and wrong. i

questioned every thing—my job,

 

my place in the family, my space

in the world. all my energy went

 

into finding documents, finding

pictures, trying to find you in the

 

boxes and piles of audio cassettes,

ledgers, sewing kits, coffee mugs.

 

it wasn’t until much later that the

words began to knit together; they

 

were in my head all along—but

needed to be brought to cohesion.

 

there’s a reason this time remains in

my mind: it is a hunt, a meditation, a

 

docking station for the spirit. i must

remember the things that god can do.

 

i must remember that music is for

feeling, and poetry is for eating.

 

i must remember the empty pages

from when you died, with love.

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

paso por paso (or, instructions for the puzzle of life)

Puzzle 1

Clear a large space.

Establish boundaries (cat optional).

Start with the sharp edges and work inward.

Take it one step at a time; build frameworks where possible.

Follow your first impulses/impressions.

Smile between the furrows. (This is supposed to be fun.)

Others will be inspired by you and will sometimes want to sit with you and your endeavors. Savor the companionship.

20140911_174053-1 (1)

Simultaneously work on random patches and patterns. They will gradually begin to make sense and fit in.

When you’re in the midst of the mess, go make a sandwich.

Consult the big picture often.

Study each detail: the shape, shadow, grain, texture, color, depth (cat teeth marks).

20140911_192840-1

Vary your attention regularly between the big picture and the small details.

Try many things, and be willing to make many mistakes. You will come frustratingly close many times, and be wrong.

Admit the mistakes. Be willing to work backward to undo them.

You will be overwhelmed by the sheer scope of the task. Become comfortable with a certain level of chaos.

You can’t keep putting everything away in its neat, tidy place. Sometimes you have to lay it all out on the table for all to see, for you to face.

20140915_210022

Have faith that you will find everything you need.

If you do not find everything you need, have faith that you will be able to improvise.

Sometimes you have to stop looking for something in order to find it.

Deeply study the empty places to determine how they need to be filled.

20140918_073715

Each new day will bring renewed perspective, light, focus, and energy.

20140918_204305

Turn your thinking on its head. Keep rearranging.

Revel in the satisfaction of the right fit, of each small piece clicking into place.

Drink lots of coffee.

20140920_114112

Welcome help along the way; others bring unique perspectives and often see things we’ve missed right in front of our eyes.

20140920_151719

Develop a love of quiet simplicity.

Be prepared to spend many hours alone.

Accept that you’re going to hit a wall sometimes. Find a way over, under, around, or through – or wait it out. Walls (we) have a way of shifting.

Breathe and be present. Feel each piece in your hand and dwell with it.

20140920_151709

Embrace the paradoxes. Find humor in them.

Everything is an experience. Everything is a writing opportunity.

If you’re stuck in one area, move to another. There are endless areas in need of attention.

Do the work consistently, and sit back and enjoy the transformation.

20140920_161751

Take the time to celebrate the triumphs.

Then, be willing to let go, dismantle every piece, and start again.

light house

some people never open

their windows; they don’t

even know the light in their

own house: on a hill, up a wish,

 

down a well, over the bows

and arrows of this slant-death

that comes too quickly

and without discovery.

 

they don’t know the planes of

their own ocean floors, the jig-

saw spread and tongue-in-groove

lilt of sloping wood where you can

 

lie flat for hours and breathe

deeply for the first time in your

life: buried briefly far and away

from the shiny hammer of terror.

 

if you never attend to your

fear—to the full tilt and lift of the

continent sheets; the vast forms of ice:

the spite—you can never attend to your love.