Your Voice

I scrinch my eyes and try to will your voice into my consciousness.
 - - -
But all that comes up is my own.
- - -
I could be sad.
And at times I have been.
Desperate, really.
- - -
And then gratitude
enters my head through way of my heart
and it surely wins.

I Look

I Look

I
Look
For
You

Every

Where

But
Then
Realize
The

You

I 

Am 

Searching
For
Is
In

Every

One

On A Tuesday

On Tuesday, yes, Tuesday, I will drive myself to Rhinebeck, New York.  I will enter into a new building - a retreat center.  I will meet strangers and I will sing with them; chant with them.  For the whole day.  This will be prayer and joy and space and connection.  I will listen to and join beloved voices: Krishna Das and Nina Rao; individuals who have given the greater part of their lives to devotion through song.

Last year, undoubtedly around this very same day, I went to a yoga class.  I don't think I had been in some time, it being summer.  During this particular yoga class, a voice came into my being.  A voice of compassion and unwavering love.  I was shocked by this and my ego was full of doubtful protest: "no way.  This is made up.  Listen to ME!"  

But the voice persisted and she said things like,

"I have been here all along and I will always be here.
No matter what.
I love being with you;
I have always loved being with you..."

I kid you not, in this very same class, while I was in shavasana my right hand moved over my left breast and I felt something that did not feel right.  My knowing body went into a different kind of shock - that of deep fear.  I cried then.  And I called the doctor the very next morning with a shaking hand.

In the weeks that followed, I recall a crisis of my mind/body.  The only things that could calm me were laying on the earth, doing a walking meditation where I would count 1-10 and then backwards 1-10, or washing the dishes.  And in the cracks between fear, there was just enough space for that sweet yet strong voice to emerge again.  Over the next nine months or so, I would both intentionally and unintentionally create space for this voice which required work and trust and patience and forgiveness for forgetting that she was there.  Always.  No matter what.  As she kept telling me.

I have read and could write many cliche things about this voice, but rather I will just stick with this: s/he is in all of us.  I know this for sure.  And we must make space for her in whatever way works for us.

And, sometimes, we must honor her; we must bow down to her.  For me, I will do this through singing to her and with her for a day.  And by singing to her, I will also be singing to the voice within every single one of us.  

Which is what I plan to do on Tuesday.

Soft As Water

Soft As Water

Dear One,

One day
you will
sit in
a storm

and the
waves will
crash over
you, one

by one,
and you
will watch
each wave

come and
go - some
fierce, some
gentle - and

although you
are a
rock, you

will also
be soft
as water.