Being imperfect

The tulip bulbs are terrifying

as I sit before them
ready to draw.

Not in themselves are they terrifying,
in themselves they are innocent,
and free of terror.
They are glistening, creamy bulbs
shedding paper-brown skins
and yielding forth
odd green spikes
that are folded, and rounded
and slightly bent.
What could be terrifying about that?

But I have elected to draw them
and in the sitting and the looking
a huge wave of emotion arises
and I start to cry.

And as I sit before the tulip bulbs
and try to breathe through the emotion
I find I cannot sit with
the terrifying tulip bulbs.

They remind me of being twenty
and being told not to draw!
Oh the wounds from such a
casual, throw-away remark.

Last time I drew,
in this very place,
it was magical,
as I was led by the hand
to recreate on paper
the undulating and bracken-filled
scene before me.

This morning,
the tulip bulbs are terrifying
as they provoke and feed
a deep sense of failure.
in seeking for perfection
I cannot begin.

Those circles, oh those circular pots
are terrifying!
I long for straight lines
and squares that I can relate to.
These circles and spheres and orbs
provoke great fear
in their seeming harmlessness,
and pencil dare not touch paper.

What is this fear that rose
so ferociously and unexpectedly?
The fear of being found out,
of being revealed as a charlatan
who has all kinds of creative talents
but cannot draw a tulip bulb!
The fear of being seen as less than I am.
This ego that is often acquiescent
and so small as to be barely noticeable
suddenly roars, and protests
and does not wish to be revealed,
does not wish to be seen as imperfect,
does not wish to be seen as human!

© 16 Mar 2013

Botton Retreat

Wind howling through the stove pipe
stove tinkling
wood popping
bodies shuffling
Sangha energy
being together
we have been here before.
Have we?

Chair creaking
throat clearing
wind still howling
stove still tinkling
pencils on paper
a new moment
of Sangha energy.
Sitting in a circle
noticing thoughts
a quiet moment.
We have not been here before.

© 12 Mar 2013

When the talking stops

When the talking stops
and the rustling of coats are stilled
and the feet silenced,
you can hear the call of
the bubbling brook
and discover the magic of
the tiny waterfall
that is secret,
hidden to those who stay on the path.
Just across the grassy stretch
is a secret, hidden pool
of clear, transparent water
undiscoverable to those who stay on the path.

When the talking stops
and the rustling of coats are stilled
and the feet silenced,
magic happens
as the group disperse
to each find their own miracle.

© 4 Mar 2013

Silence

Silence is palpable
at the centre
of a heart turned inside out,
knowing its fullness instead of its limits,
its generosity instead of its spite,
its enormity instead of its shrinking.

Silence is a depth-charge
into the ever-present space
that words cannot plumb,
dancing on the outskirts
and knocking at the door,
they cannot express the
vastness and completeness.

Silence is
then end of all our longing,
the dropping away of desires and wants,
the dissolving of binary opposites and
the shedding of burdens we have
inadvertently accumulated.

Silence is tangible

at the centre
of a heart turned inside out,
embracing infinity instead of being bound
by invisible walls created in our imagining
and forgetfulness that we are bound to one another,
indistinguishable as the wave and the water.

© 28 Feb 2013
(commissioned by Sue)

Upside down

When your world
gets turned
upside down,
and the firm foundation
you thought lay before you
disappears beneath your feet,
don't let the tears fall for too long,
as they cloud the vision,
and stop you from seeing
what new path lies ahead.
Unforged,
untrodden,
untainted,
it may be lost in misty shadows,
or so covered by tangled undergrowth
that it is barely perceptible,
but one thing is certain -
it is there.
And it will lead you onward
to new discoveries,
and new beginnings
and move you on from the place
when your world was
turned upside down.

© 22 Feb 2013

Did you see the berries?

Did you see the berries,
the red berries
a last vestige of winter,
shining through the tangle of
dark-brown, spiky branches?

And did you see the holly hedge
with its one gleaming berry,
a last proclamation of winter,
shining through the dense mass
of green, sharp-pointed leaves?

And did you see the beech hedge,
still wearing its paper-crunching
coat of brittle, last-year's leaves?

Did you see the signs of winter
doing battle with a warming,
summer-convincing sun
and wonder which season will win?

The heavy coat of frost that lay
sparkling and inviting at dawn,
has been banished by an
intense sun and a bright blue sky,
with their promise of warmer days
and lighter evenings.

The snowdrops in their bunches and
clumps are a promise of the
seasons turning to calmer,
milder, being-outside days.

And the berries,
the startling, bright red berries
are a sign winter has not yet
handed on the baton,
and we should enjoy the sun while it lasts,
for tomorrow it may snow!
© 19 Feb 2013

Love

Love
is a powerful force
that can sweep away
injustice
discrimination
and fear
and in its wake bring
unity
connection
and confidence.

Love
has the power to overturn
hatred
mistrust
and doubt
by demonstrating it is possible to be
fearless
peaceful
and free.

Love
is an energy
that dissipates as soon as it is
grasped
claimed
or stifled,
yet love can grow to immense
proportions if it is allowed to be
embraced
fluid
and infinite.

Love
is dancing throughout our lives,
on the periphery if we
dare not let it in
or
in the centre of our hearts if we
connect with others
dare to be fearless
and love to love.

♥14 Feb 2013

Love audio