It is time to step away
I told myself with closed eyes
And pushed off with two feet
Head first into the dark.
When will I learn
When will I learn that I am
Not.
I am not here nor there.
I am not moving or still.
I am not brave.
I am not afraid.
I am not.
You are.
You are afraid.
You are brave.
You are moving and yet stand still.
You are here. You are there.
You are.
What I am not.
You are and I have yet to be.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Some days we are ghosts
Today I finally made it to church...and I left before the service was half over. I had that feeling that I thought I had moved on from. Not quite stifling, but I just didn't feel right sitting there, almost like I could not breathe. I wanted to talk to someone, but it didn't seem fitting. So I got up and walked out past the pews, past the unfamiliar eyes and out the door into the fresh air. I almost sat down and sighed right there on the steps of the church. Instead, I made my way across the bridge to Barista where I found myself sitting outside on the porch, with a cup of Ritual iced coffee.
Sometimes I just like to watch life happen. From my chair on the wood planked porch I can watch time. In the Pearl there is an oddly gentle juxtaposition of modern and historical. Maybe it isn't easy on everyone's eyes...maybe I'm a city girl who loves the city, but either way I like seeing the tall glass buildings that reflect the bluish gray sky. I like seeing them as guardians overlooking the old brick buildings with water towers long ago abandoned nestled in the roofing.
Sometimes I wish I understood the undefinable flutterings that race through my head. I wish I could raise a hand and catch them to see what they actually are.
Yesterday was a quiet day. I ran. I slept. I cleaned. I baked. I kept walking to the front window and just standing and staring at the cars going by. I was not waiting for anyone, looking for anyone, hoping for anything. I simply watched. I kept returning to the window throughout the day to stand and stare, watching time.
Some days you need to simply breathe deep. Some days you need to be so still that the silence envelops you to the point that you almost feel uncomfortable in it. In the occasion that you allow it to, you allow yourself to stand down from being a participant. You become a voluntary bystander outside of time.
Today I breathe deep. Today I am silent. I watch the people around me. The couples walking hand in hand. The father towing a cherry red wagon with a harmonica playing child inside it. The families marching by in matching North Face gear. The ambling young man sporting a bright green Timbers sweatshirt. The people behind me discussing dinner plans.
And now the drums. Somewhere in the streets ahead of me an army of percussionists have ignited a thundering call punctuated by clashing cymbals and a whining car alarm. It is a typical Portland day. A chill breeze and a blanket of shifting gray clouds that are interrupted by spots of glowing pale.
I think about how connected we all are. That African idea of Ubuntu: I am what I am because of who we all are. This is something I think of often. I believe it. I wonder what it would be like to visually see the threads by which we are all connected. To see how each action, each word can spill onto an unsuspecting stranger altering their pathway in life.
Sometimes I wish I was a little bolder. I wish I was less afraid to break the barriers that make us strangers with one another. I make eye contact with someone passing by. I have the urge to say hello and invite them to join me at my table. But I am a bystander. Today I am a ghost: simply watching and listening. And now: now it is time to get up and become a participant once again.
Sometimes I just like to watch life happen. From my chair on the wood planked porch I can watch time. In the Pearl there is an oddly gentle juxtaposition of modern and historical. Maybe it isn't easy on everyone's eyes...maybe I'm a city girl who loves the city, but either way I like seeing the tall glass buildings that reflect the bluish gray sky. I like seeing them as guardians overlooking the old brick buildings with water towers long ago abandoned nestled in the roofing.
Sometimes I wish I understood the undefinable flutterings that race through my head. I wish I could raise a hand and catch them to see what they actually are.
Yesterday was a quiet day. I ran. I slept. I cleaned. I baked. I kept walking to the front window and just standing and staring at the cars going by. I was not waiting for anyone, looking for anyone, hoping for anything. I simply watched. I kept returning to the window throughout the day to stand and stare, watching time.
Some days you need to simply breathe deep. Some days you need to be so still that the silence envelops you to the point that you almost feel uncomfortable in it. In the occasion that you allow it to, you allow yourself to stand down from being a participant. You become a voluntary bystander outside of time.
Today I breathe deep. Today I am silent. I watch the people around me. The couples walking hand in hand. The father towing a cherry red wagon with a harmonica playing child inside it. The families marching by in matching North Face gear. The ambling young man sporting a bright green Timbers sweatshirt. The people behind me discussing dinner plans.
And now the drums. Somewhere in the streets ahead of me an army of percussionists have ignited a thundering call punctuated by clashing cymbals and a whining car alarm. It is a typical Portland day. A chill breeze and a blanket of shifting gray clouds that are interrupted by spots of glowing pale.
I think about how connected we all are. That African idea of Ubuntu: I am what I am because of who we all are. This is something I think of often. I believe it. I wonder what it would be like to visually see the threads by which we are all connected. To see how each action, each word can spill onto an unsuspecting stranger altering their pathway in life.
Sometimes I wish I was a little bolder. I wish I was less afraid to break the barriers that make us strangers with one another. I make eye contact with someone passing by. I have the urge to say hello and invite them to join me at my table. But I am a bystander. Today I am a ghost: simply watching and listening. And now: now it is time to get up and become a participant once again.
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