I’ve Been Hurt
1.
I’ve been hurt.
Real bad.
No, I’m not trying to compare.
Everyone has a right to honor their own wounds.
And everyone has a responsibility
to go to their pain
and heal it
because hurt is contagious.
It helps to talk about it a bit.
I don’t remember
what happened.
I remember bad things
but I can’t find the memories that explain
it.
I’m sorry.
I always feel like I need to apologize.
I’m a walking apology.
Sorry.
I feel like I need to apologize for being born
but no matter how much I apologize for it
I never feel forgiven
enough
to live
my life.
2.
I’ve been hurt
real bad,
somewhere deep where my mind isn’t allowed to go.
But I feel it
when I try to speak
or dare to try something that would require me to believe I have a right in this world.
I feel it
when it swells up
and spreads through my body and I
deflate
and clench and contract and shrink away
like I’m trying to protect myself from another blow
or just disappear.
I used to use anger to get big and strong
and push everything away
and get enough space to
be.
But after just a few years
I burned through my lifetime supply of rage.
I used to use alcohol and drugs
for the soothing
and the cheap, fast illusion of power,
but each night’s step forward
cost me two steps back.
I finally found myself
but I was miles behind.
3.
So
I stopped taking the edge off.
Now I want to leave it on.
I need it to cut this mystery open.
I’ve spent years trying to give myself permission to cry.
I can do it a little now.
It feels useless trying to squeeze a river
through a little crack.
But I remind myself that
one little crack is all it takes
to bring the dam crashing down
some magnificent day.
4.
Patience.
Persistence.
Patience.
Persistence.
Patience and
persistence
of water.
Water’s ease and assurance, effortless
in awesome weight and power,
in inevitability.
5.
And I will burst through that wall,
taking the spaces that are mine to fill,
with innocent confidence,
trusting nature
will continuously correct my course
as I flow freely into my life,
laughing at my silly self
for ever having been a river
who wanted permission
to join in our ocean.
Whatever You Do
In Seattle
people obey the “don’t walk” light at the street corner
even if no cars are coming.
Yes, they just stand there!
It looks bizarre and surreal to see them
standing there
obeying without thinking,
but how many signs do we all obey
without even noticing?
Signs,
symbols,
words,
flags,
facial expressions,
emotions,
thoughts.
Signs only have power over you
if you don’t reflect on them.
Reflect on them and
take your power back.
Maybe...
wearing that cross means
he’s an ally to the poor and oppressed,
or
maybe he’s just exploiting that symbol
so he can exploit you.
Don’t trust a sign.
Meet the substance.
Maybe that flag stands for freedom
or
maybe genocide, slavery, and imperialism
or
maybe all of these and more.
Maybe it’s not so simple.
You see, a sign is a very simple thing
but significance is
precisely
the opposite of simple.
Maybe that look means
the person doesn’t like you
but
maybe they like you a lot
and it makes them nervous
or
maybe you’re irrelevant
and they’ve had a hard day
or
a lifetime of trauma.
All day we react, unaware:
“He looks trustworthy.”
“He looks dangerous.”
“I should…”
“I’m so…”
“I can’t…”
“I’ll just…”
Why did you think that?
What was your sign?
What did you assume?
How many signs do we obey
without even noticing?
(And how many useful signs do we ignore without noticing,
signs that could help us if we were more observant?)
Signs only have power if
you don’t reflect on them.
Notice them,
in the street and in your mind,
and reflect on them.
Take your power back.
Next time you see the “don’t walk” light
and no cars are coming
you can just stand there
or you could cross
or you could roll around in the street
or fall to your knees and sob.
Whatever you do,
first, wake up.
I Have Seen a Bird
I have seen a bird
crumpled, shy, cowering.
But I have seen another bird
lifting,
wings extending powerfully,
pushing on air until it rises,
then finally soaring on nature’s invisible currents.
A Blessing for You
May you be happy.
May you feel light.
May you allow a smile to gently spread through your face.
May your eyes be open and clean.
May you release your apprehension
and be filled with supple strength.
May you stand tall and rooted,
pulled taught from above and below.
May you remember that your appearance
comes from the inside out.
May you remember that you’re someone
who people are pleased to meet.
May you never forget that you are lovable.
May you often relive memories of the love you have known.
May you remember that heaven is inside you,
always shining just behind the clouds.
May you fly beyond them
on the gust of a single thought.
Young Love
The old fisherman walks the shore
a bit before the sunset,
steady, patient, and quiet,
working to make peace with life.
His wife has passed away and his children are grown
and somewhere else
they have lives of their own.
Alone he must make his peace.
He is almost soft and empty enough,
at last,
for the fullness of life
to fit and breathe
comfortably inside of him.
But the old fisherman shakes his head
and smiles, a little sad,
as his longing taunts his surrender.
He gently steps along the line
where waves and sand
have playfully wrestled
in young love forever.
Wake Up!
If we were truly awake
to what matters in life,
we would
play and laugh, enjoying just each other
with uninhibited delight
because we love each other so much;
we would
savor the unfolding instants,
soberly staring into each other’s eyes,
cursing and praising time,
because we love each other so much;
we would
meditate together on the truth that we will have to die,
grieving and sobbing and wailing and pressing our bodies together,
hating to let go
because we love each other so much;
we would
break every politeness and taboo against expressing love,
break our fear of loving too much,
break our fear of receiving too much love,
BREAK our hearts open
purposely and urgently and desperately,
knowing EVERYTHING depends on succeeding in this,
because we love each other so much.
If we were truly awake
to what matters in life,
we would.
The Safe
You thought you locked your feelings
in a little box.
But now you realize
you’ve played a little trick
on yourself.
You’ve locked
yourself
in little a box,
and you’re afraid to come out
where the wild feelings roam.
I Am a Ghost
I am a ghost.
Sometimes I drift through the city
among the living.
I observe them
going through their motions.
They can't see me.
They hardly see each other.
It is lonely to haunt,
to see and not be seen.
But, ah! the thrill of encountering another ghost!
The relief and longing fulfilled
as our eyes meet,
crossing the distance in less than a blink!
We move towards each other
through the crowded graveyard.
At last to be seen!
And by such a spirit.
One who saw the dream behind the illusion,
One who wasn’t strong enough to submit
but had all the courage to rebel,
One who smashed their tight shell,
One who cut off their Earthly anchor
for freedom to pass through walls
and see the other sides,
adventuring through worlds and times!
How sweet it is to have found each other!
But
we ghosts can no longer become anchored,
even when we want to.
Knowingly, we drift our separate ways.
But we are eternal
and we look forward to meeting again
and again.
No Rest
We can’t be present for the bliss
of blessed self-forgetfulness.
We can’t savor even a peep,
awake in precious nightly sleep.
And release from Earthly grieving
arrives just as mind is leaving.