Monthly Archives: February 2015

The Door Through

The room fills with people
Here to walk the painted labyrinth
Outlined in lights
We sing the songs of many times and places

And then you stand beside me
And hand over hand
The light that I am,
You are weaving, over and through

Things tenuous now, I tossed into in-between
Again, I part ways with uncertainty
Grown weary of its constant uncoiling
Assessing the world with wary narrow stare

And for a single second
One tick of the clock
Counting, counting down up there on the wall
I decide, step across, let go

Take your hand, our eyes meet
Everything I ought to run after
Around me falls away, dissolving
Even the fear of loving what I could lose

So much lighter now
Only brilliant joy
Welling up, cascading down
Earth and sky, and I

At the center, and from inside out
Around us, everyone is glowing
And it dawns on me, I’ve already answered
Your question at the heart of what we’re singing:

“I have opened a door
A door for you, that no one can close,
Will you walk through,
Will you walk through with me?”

***
Music and lyrics by Lawson Barnes and Carol Barriger

Advertisements

Love Is More Discerning Than Fear

So I haven’t posted as much as I’d like on here, in part because I’ve been ill, but mostly because I’ve been working on my dissertation and, like my everyday life in the physical world, I don’t think my dissertation would be interesting to read about. Well, at least if you’re not me.

But I’ve been in thought mode. Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about fear and love, and lighthearted topics such as why we still predominantly live under the illusion of separation rather than embrace our interdependence. So perhaps this is remotely dissertation related after all.

So earlier today I found myself feeling tired, enough that I took a short nap: and had a dream about a vampire. I’d say this never happens, but it just has, for the first time. Perhaps I should add that I hardly ever read books or watch shows about vampires, and try to avoid the subject generally speaking altogether. However, I can’t ignore it today.
***
The Dream:

My only role in the dream is that of observer and perhaps fortunately so: I am invisible to all the other dream characters who are in fact acting in a vampire movie. This allows me to watch these people’s choices and reactions unfold in realtime, without ever being effected by them myself.

In the dream, a middle aged woman is lying on a sofa, now and then glancing toward the front door. Presently, without knocking or introduction, a tall, strangely dressed man in his forties strides into the room, as if it already belongs to him. He has short brown hair and a pale narrow face, and, I notice for some reason, has unusually long and boney hands. He wears an open long fake leather jacket without buttons over a wrinkled baggy blue shirt which is hastily tucked into business casual slacks.

The woman doesn’t move, but smiles at him broadly. They’ve been dating for a while, and she’s invited him out to dinner.

“I think this is a good time to tell you that I am a vampire,” the man says, before the woman has time to speak. His unnervingly high voice breaks the silence, mealy and seductive.

You would think the woman would either run or kick him out at this point, but she doesn’t. She is convinced their love will transcend all obstacles in their way. She is still smiling at him, both enticed by danger’s potential and convinced the emergence of the relationship between them keeps her safe from harm.

The woman asks if she can see his fangs. He opens his mouth, and there are definitely large fangs in there, behind his eye teeth. It registers with her that he’s not lying, and half reflexively she sits up straight so she can look directly at him.

He says, “I’m hungry, let’s go eat.”

“Okay,” the woman says, but she’s not feeling so safe now. “But you won’t hurt me, right? We love each other. You can’t possibly want to feed off me: I’m sorry I even thought it. You wouldn’t, would you.”

She’s looking at him intently, hoping, willing, demanding to find trust and respect reflected in his eyes. I’m not sure what she sees, but it’s clearly not what she was expecting. She goes a little pale. . “You wouldn’t,, would you?” the exact same words as before, but now a question tinted with fear, rather than a vote of confidence.

The vampire continues his silence, which begins to speak for itself. Suddenly, he leans in close to her, as if about to tell her a secret. Instinctively, she flinches away. “But I told you, I’m hungry.” He breathes into her ear, and reaches out for her. Only then does the woman run panicked and screaming from the house, vampire in hot pursuit, until eventually she gets away, and barely for all that.
***

All the while this is going on, I am observing and asking myself questions: Why am I watching this? Why won’t she leave? Can’t she tell that love never had anything to do with this relationship, that it has always been about fear? Where is her discernment? Could we turn off the TV, or create a new, different movie, one where love rather than fear is the norm?

Because to my mind the vampire doesn’t just represent hostile people who feed off others’ energy to sustain themselves—narcissists come to mind. It could just as easily stand in for an entire culture based on fear, operating entirely within the illusion of separation. We live for the most part in such a culture every day.

And yet, we are interdependent beings who flourish through cooperation, belonging, and mutual vulnerability. Sometimes, the fragility of human life is the only point of equality upon which to rebuild connectedness. It is impossible to do this when you are governed more by fear than love, as this dream shows.

In fact, the dream points to several important points about fear and love, connection and disconnection, which is why I include it. Vampires are probably the most vivid symbol of separation I could dream up, no pun intended. When you live from a place of belonging, love, connectedness, energy is infinite. You are part of all that is, there is no alone, and the light you find in yourself exists everywhere.

The concept of a vampire, in my opinion, derives from a primal human fear that we might all be separate beings with separate experiences who can be dwindled to nothing before we die and perhaps even become nothing when we die. Vampires as a concept emerge out of a belief that you are alone, that the world has or could at any time abandon you, that you have little and lack what you need, so you have to take the force of life from others to survive. And a person who does this, interestingly, is always portrayed as dead or undead which isn’t an accident.

Having integrity, wholeness, is part of truly living, and if a person lives off of others, they never come to realize who they really are, and for that reason, aren’t truly living. They also don’t have to care: about the consequences of their actions, about the future of the planet, about the quality of life for their children’s children, or even about respecting and valuing the people and other living beings around them. The vice of extreme separation is apathy, and arguably a vampire with true empathy and compassion would, I think, be a contradiction in terms. (But don’t worry, I don’t have the space to argue that here.) 🙂

Now, back to the dream. The thing is, while it seems clear that the vampire isn’t living from a place of love and his purpose is to perpetuate doubt, displacement, distrust, and fear, (I mean, he even comes out and says so explicitly!), the woman isn’t living from a place of love either. Her appeal to love to keep the two of them in right relationship wouldn’t be necessary if she truly loved and trusted herself. When she is seeking the truth, it would be better for her to look within, rather than desperately seek for confirmation in another’s eyes. It is fear, not love, that serves as the reason she looks outside herself for safety and belonging and I think it is relying ultimately on fear that prevents her from having the very discernment that would keep her safe.

Conforming to what everyone else does, trying to fit in, buying things in the hopes that something outside yourself will make you happy– these are all ways to perpetuate a culture of separation. Industries and then family and friends and then the voices in your own head which tirelessly stream messages such as you’re never whole, you’re never enough, you’ll only be loved if you are perfect/do x for a living/fulfill someone’s expectations– these likewise are all symptoms of a culture based on fear. As long as we live with and buy into this fear, we won’t be able to properly discern when it’s time to leave and run after the very essence of ourselves before it’s drained away.

Belonging first and foremost to who you are, knowing you are never alone, that you’re enough, already whole, that’s the foundation of love and the end to the illusion of separateness. And if the person in my dream had this view of herself, she wouldn’t have continued allowing separateness into her house long after it announced itself. She’d see straight through the illusion, and the most loving thing to do then would be to let it go.

Once the woman in the dream could surrender to what is, accept her situation and the truth that she was dealing with a vampire (separateness), she was able to break free of her illusions and once again begin to belong to herself. I know that, however idealistic it might end up being, I do dream of the time when more people, (starting with myself, because I’m the only person I can change), will likewise surrender to what is because in breaking the illusion of separation, we free ourselves to run through the door of belonging, and start living according to love rather than fear. And when that happens, we just might hit the eject button on the movie which has been playing much too long and watch as something wondrous and new takes its place.

The Threshold of a World

Hawthorn tree
Grown near the pool,
Fairy ring
So still and wild,

I’ve come to meet
One of the sidhe,
Along a way
Eerily familiar to me.

Reach the flattened rock,
Take off socks and shoes,
Sitting down, immerse my feet,
Cool water mirrors the sky.

Unsettled, wary,
But I let go,
Safe enough,
Though I’m not alone.

Behind the tree, Furtively,
a shadow hides,
Assesses me
With watchful eyes.

Skittish, shyly
Peers she,
Between the branches
And their thorns:

There is no wind,
No sound.
I don’t ask to see
What mist obscures,

And the light softens then,
Glistens on the water,
Reflects a burnt
Red sun.

“What is it
You seek from us?”
Her unspoken question
Cracks the silence.

My given answer
Startles me,
I whisper, “resolution,” not sure
What for, or why.

She bids me scoop up
Water from the pool,
In self blessing,\
I sprinkle it over me

Soothing, tingling
Tiny sparks,
Drops land lightly
On my face.

From the shadows
Of the hawthorn tree,
At the edge of Tír na nóg,
So wild,

Aisling of the sidhe,
Recognizes me:
“Indeed you are welcome,
Oisín’s child.”

On the Journey Unfolding

Stillness sparkles
Like beads of sweat upon her skin
Overwhelmed with not knowing
Enough, and too much at once

Off the next step of the journey
She falls as if diving
Backward, body tumbling suddenly
Into a network of outstretched hands

Cautiously she peers up, seeking reassurance
In their wise and ancient faces
Gently they explain the why of it
For a second, peace, she accepts

But silence shrouds the when and how
Unsettled by uncertainty
Stars wait to intermittently flicker
Behind the eyes she starts to close

She is a crescent of moon
Surely too small to be prepared
To rise full across the sky
Reflecting the sun

How does light, bending
Coalescing into prisms
Of the named and unnamed colors
Experience living, life dynamic and moving

She could ask them to leave her here
But that would only put an end to growing wild
And what joyful homecoming might await them
Passed the familiar with its running interference

And so, though fear taunts her
Beckons with cold stone stare
She is already changing
One fragile life, they carry her

Where are they going
Needing, again and again at every moment
To trust, letting go into love
That no matter the form, she remains who she is

Light is a shelter woven over her
Light is sharp awe, soft wonder
Seeing herself take shape before her eyes
Recognizing, eyes open, she will mirror the spiraled patterns of being

Ode to Torque

Oh pivotal inertia’s twin,
Whether the masses find equilibrium or not,
You keep us levered at arm’s length.

Found when the wheel rotates with vertical spin,
Discovered as the current recoils from the coil,
The product of your motion leaves its sine everywhere,
Example given: the closing of a door.

I am accelerated to be an integral part of your work.
You are the alpha and omega,
Your cause gains momentum farther out.

Our lives rotate around the fulcrum point of your profound significance,
Oh force behind the workings of many electrical objects,
We calculate your greatness by the right hand rule, oh torque.

Valentine’s Day Poem, Early

It’s coming up to that day, you know the one, when it’s all about love. So here’s a love poem I wrote far back enough in the past that I have no more attachment to the circumstances in which it was written. I just pulled it out and worked on making it better. Maybe it is.

Singing for You

Singing for you
Singing you

Every cell of mine
Hums your wild soul

And in my bones
Where the marrow rings

I remember
How to dance you effortlessly

I echo, I call
Resonate you in your hands

Falling cords, shimmering through
The music my spirit brushes

In the dark
I shine, shine, shine

All radiant you
The misty glow of distant shores

The strings attuned to only this
Steadfast wonder

Undying hour
Chatter of silence, color of our laughter

every atom of my being
Pulsing and repeating

Across the knot of time
A harmony of change and completion

Shatters me
And on and on soars this love

Its threads entwine a single melody
Weaving us in song

Forging Something New

Hoping that struggle will solve every problem,
Treading water for days,
I give in, realizing I’ve not gone anywhere,
But am rather swamped by other people’s feelings.

What am I missing?
staying strong, striving for more,
Too much to be done now
To wait for a quieter kind of transformation.

I don’t want to use the word despair,
It serves no one,
But I am a single person
In a needy sea of change.

Tidal waves crash, over my head,
And it gets hard to breathe.
No place to land, I try floating,
Only to look up at a sky, clouded.

Yesterday we asked for healing.
We saw the red tears fall,
We hoped thread-bare, without ceasing,
Grounding ourselves on the standing stones.

Today I feel so terribly alone,
Finishing a project that cannot restore
The fracked landscape, felled trees,
Sorrow in the lives of my many friends.

It is not enough to ease my exhaustion,
Or put an end to the haunted look in my eyes.
Do we have enough time?
Is there still time?

Yesterday I sprawled out on the rock
And closed my eyes,
A purple hood pulled up over my head,
Keeping out the cold. You said,

Would you ever be willing to bend like a spoon
Reshaped to reflect all your brilliant light?
I’d hold you safe within my hands
Until you became definite, solid again.

I admit, I find this a wholly disagreeable idea,
So I’ve answered you so far with the sound of silence.
What am I missing? Holding still for a moment,
This fragmented world spinning out of control, I am at a loss.

But, too discouraged to do anything else,
I let go, with no clue as to what’s going on.
Cave early, I’ve heard. I agree out of weariness, not curiosity,
The hapless child stumbling over myself to get out of the way.

What’s going to happen now?
The oceans are heaving in grief,
The world cries out in human and nonhuman voices,
Longing, pleading, to end this needless suffering.

And so far I have only fought battles with my shadow,
Tried healing my own raw woundedness.
What is the shape of fear, turned to love?
Such a strange alchemy, when truth meets with acceptance.

I hope for the best,
I come face to face with my own ignorance,
I take one step and then the next,
All right, then, if it means you’ll carry me through the rest.