Hello from the space between two suburbs in the Twin Cities Metro, where circumstances and love have created an extended stay. I'm continuing to learn how "Living Into Questions", as the poet Rilke advised me to do, meanders in unpredictable ways.
This quiet and strange December, I experience an inward bloom. The radical acceptance I surrendered to in September infused my life with a love, I believe, that only comes once... I begin to "see the forrest" through the highways leading to the suburban art schools my boys attend (note: time in the car with teenage boys can be e a holy grail of communication opportunities). I strive to choose joy moment to moment, not just as an idea for tomorrow (but that too...).
Though there is a harshness to this time of year and this particular time in my life, I appreciate how the holiday season so far shines and sparkles where it matters most.
Break all our teacup talk of God.
Could give the Beloved His choice, some nights,
He would just drag you around the room
By your hair,
Ripping from your grip all those toys in the world
That bring you no joy.
And wants to rip to shreds
All your erroneous notions of truth
And with others,
On too many fine days.
Lock us inside of a tiny room with Himself
And practice His dropkick.
To do us a great favor:
And shake all the nonsense out.
He is in such a “playful drunken mood”
Most everyone I know
Quickly packs their bags and hightails it
Out of town.