'You are Here'

There is something about us humans and our affinity for maps, lodestones, landmarks and guides (both animate and inanimate). But even that does not seem enough! No, just a random map would not do, it would not serve any purpose. We just have to know where we are, and where we have to go, don't we?. We panic when we feel lost. We are too scared to die into insignificance.....to become a black speck in the inky darkness that we find ourselves in every now and then. And so we come back to holding on to ourselves over and over again....the 'You are Here' spot, which fills us with a balmy warmth, from where we can breathe again more freely. But where are we really? What is that spot where we think we are? Do we even know? Would we? If we were not followers but explorers?

After two weeks of intense yet relaxing traveling, I am back home.....to what I think and feel is home now....after finding and living in many homes over the last few weeks.....homes in beautiful countries, homes in beautiful hearts. As I stepped in, I felt a wave rise and wash over me, taking me along...to a space where there was only darkness - not a darkness that often presupposes 'a lack', but a darkness that exudes mystery....and I found myself in the very same space that I had been all along, for many years, and more ...that space of not knowing where I truly belong.....of feeling like I belong everywhere, and so nowhere,.... or belonging nowhere, and so everywhere. And suddenly, I feel no need for a map like I used to. Or maybe the map has changed. Or I am exploring uncharted territory and so drawing the map as I go along. And so, yes, I feel lost. But it's a happy kind of lost.

On the 27th of June, I was talking to a dear friend on the phone and shared how I was going through something...and feeling lost.....because I did not know where I belonged. I hung up and went to see my father who had been a little sick for the last few days. I don't know why, but when I saw him and he started speaking to me, I hugged him and broke down. I shared with him what I had been feeling deeply.....that I didn't know what 'family' meant anymore, that I didn't know where I belonged, that I felt like I didn't belong anywhere. And he hugged me tight and cried with me too, telling me how much he loved me. A few hours later, he took in his last breath and let go of that last breath in that human form. Perhaps we shared our angst of not knowing where we belonged, in those few moments. But I will never know. What became clear to me in that moment and later was this - that I was no longer as worried about where I was, where I belonged or did not belong.

Today, as I entered the house after being in so many different places, all those moments flashed past my eyes, and the inside of my throat lumped up. I missed you, appa. I remembered you, appa. For I am still there - lost.....not knowing where I belong. But there is no sadness about that this time. The sadness that is there is that you are not here. Otherwise, it's different. There is a peace and a freedom of simply being.....being me....happily walking that uncertain, intangible, fuzzy edge of not knowing where I am and where I belong.

And yet, I can also see how a part of me clings to a story....one tentacle grabbing onto something to survive, to thrive, for now....for as long as I need to. And so I hold on to the grief of losing you and the joy of receiving your blessing - the last blessing that we were graced with as you closed your eyes. Yes, you told us how much you loved us. You told me how special I was. You wished the best for us three, asking us to mark your words.....that we would go places. I believe it is a blessing we were so privileged to receive.

Yet, I missed you for being the only one I knew of, who was always a partaker in my joy, with no agenda, with no feeling of lack, and so being able to receive it fully and openly. Today, I am so happy. Happy with my life and where it has taken me. I am happy and grateful to all that has come my way in the form of opportunities, people, places, wealth, art, experiences and much much more. Yes, I am so happy appa. But you were not there physically present to feel this with me, like I knew you would have, if you were alive and in a body. I miss touching and feeling you. I miss your hug, your laughter, your presence. And yet, you are very much there in me. I can feel it, sense it, hear it, even though it is not the same. And so I imagined you calling me and asking about our trip. I heard the conversation so clearly.....the tone of your voice, the words, your smile through the phone....all pointing to the happiness you were feeling just knowing that I was happy and listening to the story of the magic and how it all unfolded. I yearn to share joy like that with people.

So yeah, that's where I am. In a space of ease and lightness.....of being happy with not belonging anywhere, and so belonging everywhere.....to be able to walk along the fringes when needed so I can jump into anything I want to that draws me in, whenever I feel like it. To respond to life. To wait to be invited to the party. And to simply invite myself by telling life that I am ready to be invited....that I am here!

And that changes the way I look at the 'You are here' spot on the map that is forming now. While I saw it earlier as a place on an already charted map, showing me where I could go, which direction I could head in, I am now seeing it very differently.....I see it as a beautiful spot in an unexplored land, where I can simply stand, marveling at the beauty of the landscape, and tell life loudly and clearly.....that I am ready and here for it to take me where it wants to take me, and where I need to go!

To just know that 'You are here'! Ah! What freedom!

Said the Canvas to the Artist...

said the canvas to the artist:
"sometimes, I wish
you'd just pick up
that resting brush
and stroke me
with your lingering eyes
and uncertain hands,
splashing colours
across my bosom;
isn't the emptiness
that you see,
inspiration enough?
to feel and create
depths in surfaces
longing to be met
in quiet serendipity?

Dreams

I wonder why
our dreams
carry us
across the heavens
on fragile threads,
that could
make or break,
our tender hearts
wandering
like lost flotsam
suspended
in timeless uncertainty,
carrying the smell
of our deep longings
and our flawed humanity;

I guess it takes
one dream
etched across the heavens,
carrying us
toward the darkening light,
to find our roots
or wings.

Grace

and as I stand
a little closer
to my grave today,
when strands of silver
line the oval of my face,
I am learning to look into
the half-glowing heavens,
in silent curiosity,
with a steadfast faith
coursing through
my pulsing jugular,
and with one full breath,
call out my own blessed name,
and raise a full-throated song
giving thanks to this world,
which always gives me
my choicest meal,
without ever asking
for my name.

You Know That Feeling?

you know that feeling
when that goodbye
is stuck in the lump
of your throat,
when your eyes film
with the salt
of your flooded heart,
wondering whether
to stay open or shut?
you know that feeling
when you draw the curtains
just before you go to bed,
and catch the moon
as she takes her rightful place
on that cosmic stage,
and wonder why
you cannot be out there with her,
but have to take a peek from the wings?
you know that feeling
of getting to the end
of a book you lost yourself in,
not knowing where you were even,
or that feeling when you're
standing along the water's edge
where waves part and caress
your shifting toes,
only to receive you in?
you know that feeling
when you are suspended
between an inexplicable emptiness
and a bewitching fullness,
knowing you've played your part
and that the time has finally come
when you ought to move to the wings?
Yes,
for that's how stars are born,
that's how flowers are made,
that's how the earth turns,
and that's how the seas roar,
in the great family of all things.
 

Heartbreak

and you broke my heart,
like the arrows of rain
impinging upon a vacant earth
who looked to the sky,
only to wet her lips
with a song
waiting to be sung;
the pain and tightness
now yielding
to the uncertain space -
a quiet, gentle becoming
into something soft and pliable,
expunging stiff shells,
and giving
all of myself
to the very quiver
from where they came.

Balance

and my heart
tipped over
to one side
and the other,
juggling
squiggling
careening
plunging
soaring
to new heights,
new depths,
new lengths,
new breadths;
lines becoming curves,
circles becoming spheres,
images digested,
and dissolved
beyond definition;
balance emerging then
not from staying
rooted
in the centre,
but by burning bridges
that cradled a spent self,
moving out all the while
with quivering fingertips,
to touch the seamless sky
and her cerulean affinity
to seek her own
dark, uncertain depths.

Empty Boat

and I sat there
on the sun-soaked bench,
with sunbeams wrapped
around my smarting skin,
eyes adrift
upon lazy waves
cradling a little boat
moored to the wind;
nothing's amiss,
nothing's lost,
nothing to hold,
nothing to let go,
nothing to feel,
nothing to do,
just to be
an empty boat
upon the waves,
no sail, no rope
no oar, no home.

The Uncertainty in the Certainty

why do I want
to understand myself
and be understood?
why do I want to make sense
of everything that flows
in, out and through me?
why can't I simply be
like that pod on an ancient tree,
bursting from its seams
to release its seeds
on the wings of love,
in every season,
knowing
that some will sprout, and
some will crumble and die
in the warmth of certainty
in the uncertainty
of a compassionate earth.

Knowing

and when you ask me
how I know what I know,
what to do and where to go,
the black ibis rise in an instant,
in one glorious symphony
from the still waters,
and head somewhere
into the fading light;
a black ribbon changes shape
with every passing moment
in the melting blue,
floating into and with
the uncertainty and certainty
of yet another triumphant night,
and one more blessed day,
proclaiming my place
in the family of things
that are born to be wild.

Peace

as I watched the ripples
fold in from all sides,
creasing the blue
and the rolling green,
my drifting eyes
slowed to a stop
where every line
drawn out
held worlds at war,
clinging to the shores
of certainty;
and somewhere there
between the creases
and folds
and the shifting canvas
of unexplored worlds,
I sank into peace.

Be Careful!

'Be careful!'
I hear voices,
sometimes inside,
sometimes outside -
a fearful anticipation,
an unwelcome arrival,
a harsh denial,
that jars the present
and pickles a spirit
that doesn't want to hide;
'be-care-full'
is the voice
I choose to hear -
one voice,
soft and firm,
for each step
into the magical darkness
that I pour myself into.

Trust

Trust is
an autumn tree tangled
in the sinewy gusts,
a wandering cloud resting
upon an arched red sky,
sunbeams dancing through
dark unopened pores;
waves breaking into themselves
upon unquestioning shores,
a flower exploding into
dollops of morning dew,
an egret taking flight
to undress ripples of blue;

Trust is
the gift of wings
upon an earthling's heart,
locked inside
a casket of musty darkness.

Trust is the passage
between yesterdays gone
and tomorrows unborn,
where you and I
walk each step
together
into the flickering
candlelight.

Listen

When I Went Looking for Joy

there was a time
when I went looking for joy -
in the forests,
in the mountains,
in the flowers,
in the sky,
in the ocean,
in the moonlight,
in the music,
in the whys,
a joy that was elusive
like a mirage on a long drive,
or raindrops that vanished
in the steam of the sky,
she was never there
where I looked,
and always there
before she was found -
like a one year old
playing hide and seek
never hidden, and so
never found!
and then I found her
right here,
watching me grope around,
what a fool I had been
to look for her
in the 'Lost and Found';
and so I learned
to play her game,
without questioning
or taking sides,
to dive into the space
between knowing
and not knowing,
for that's where she hides!

 

Inspiration

Inspiration -
she kisses me,
moves,
and
lifts me.

a kite
set free
upon
the breath
of the wind

dancing
with abandon,
soaring
towards
unknown shores...

Inspiration is
a fullness,
a love
for all of life.
Unstoppable.

Sand Crabs on a Sunny Beach

when I am stalked
and terrified by Fear -
the many headed monster
exploding into me
like a tidal wave,
I remember
the little sand crabs
on a sunny beach,
who make their homes
where the waves break in;
they know no fear -
watching with intent,
the ruthless waves rush in;
now quickly hiding
in the shifting sands,
they choreograph
their endless dance
with the sun-kissed waves -
a magical interplay
of stillness and movement
along uncertain shores.

Unhinged

an unhinged door
invites
the wind
and the light;
it gives itself
a chance
to be whole,
in the uncertainty,
and love what is;
rooted
in its own self;
detached.
unflappable.