Wednesday, June 19, 2019

Free






The writers I read, write about destiny. They write about following the light like an actor on a stage might, like a car at night might, like a tree or a flower might.  Follow the light, they write. And fall into the flow, into the motion of the moment.  They write this while they sit in silent stillness for hours, writing good book upon good book. They fall. They do. And then, through deep inner listening, they rise into resiliency. Then they move people, these motivational makers of transformation. They move people to the present moment.  


They write, You can be as free as me. You can! Be open. Be as wide open as the ocean. Then, let worry fall, fear flee, and the ego drop. Now. They say. Sit in stillness. Yes, for hours! Believe. Eventually, you will be as free as me. 


Free is not fame. Fame is a myth, an invented hierarchy of modern society. Film stars, rock stars, youtube sensations, royalty, politicians, professional athletes, best-selling authors, and the business savvy - none are more human than you or me. We are not all destined for media celebrity. 


Free is not pride. Free is purity. Free is solitary and free is community. Free is joy honored in simple magnificent moments. Free is nonresistance and surrender and acceptance of what is. And yet, free is participation in human evolution. Free is naming a truth a truth, and a lie, a lie. Free is peace. Free is grace. Free is love.


Free is power. However, free is not the bombastic power with which we are most familiar. Free is not made of walls, atomic and automatic weapons, or erratic volcanic ignorance. Free is not this masculine antiquity, this dead-end road blown to bits by the wars of our entire human history. Free is bold. Yes. Free is an intricate power, a power of feminine invention, courage, and determination. Free is radical compassion. Patriarchy will eventually die, decay, and reach extinction, and these old soldier stories will live on as fossil fuel for peace negotiations. I believe it is mostly men folk who fight for pride, borders, and country. It has been mostly men who have ruled with violence in all its unfortunate forms. I write this knowing many good genuine feminine men. Men who are empathetic listeners. Men who are strong and soft. Men who see themselves in every other human. These men are free and brave and they will remain. They will be the future fathers of male transformation.


If we survive, we human beings, I mean, it won't be because one bomb was bigger than another bomb. It will be because we finally stopped believing in bombs, and in this idea of other, foreigner, enemy, and supremacy.


Lately, I have been seeking reasons why I should quit this writing. Yet, it continues to compel me. So on I follow curiosity after curiosity. Sitting in stillness (like for hours!), I seek and make. I write. For me, writing is a light to chase. A way to fall into the flow, into the motion of the moment. I may never be the author of books. I will most likely never reach media celebrity. But I can be as wide open as the ocean. I can let worry fall, fear flee, and the ego drop. I can be free.


Saturday, June 1, 2019

A Montessori Toddler Classroom


It has been a school year full of so much joy. {Sorrows too - big and small moments of pain and struggle and challenge.} But mostly, there was giggling and singing, hugging and dancing, jumping, climbing, balancing, painting and playing, spinning, hand-holding, running, tumbling, falling, bumping, crying, ice pack applying and injury report signing, sand, sweat, snow pants, "stop!", pee, poop, water bottles, and lots and lots of sunscreen! We've had bubble building and bubble pop pop popping! We've had so many hours of sweet deep sleep. We've seen innumerable bouts of beautiful concentration... Children practicing until they fit all the red nesting dolls into the biggest nesting doll. Children practicing until they string 10 tiny beads into a necklace. Children working a key, a latch, a hammer, a pair of scissors, and a screwdriver. Children naming and matching small objects to corresponding photographs. We have heard, "I did it!" so many times. We have said, "You did it!" so many times. We have witnessed babble become word, diaper become underwear, and foe become friend. Hundreds of hellos and so many waves goodbye. It has been a school year full of so much joy.

A Wise Friend

A wise friend is akin to a book of old wisdom.  A book of bone and soul and skin. A book that breathes and speaks and eats. A book with a so...