The love we’re born to be….

Dear darling you at the end of your heart-breaking day,
I can’t hear them clear, the words you’re making through the buzzing on the line
but I can hear it strong the sadness in your voice,
and it stirs me to lean in as far as I can bend.
But the clamor in my ears has me guessing what you mean
and it feels your voice may break into pieces
if I asked you to explain
so I close my eyes and squeeze them tight
to try and be present with you in your storm.

If I knew how to hug you warm and let our words be breath,
to hum them soft without saying,
and pull out ice cream and olives and bubbles and cheese
and put on fuzzy socks and a movie
and let your sadness simply be

–  knew how to do it across these lines
where our voices hang like unpicked fruit,
knew how to offer you my love
but not too noisy,
how to climb inside this phone
and simply
hold
your hand.

Oh my dear one,  how I would.
In every shade of comfort and kindness
just exactly how your heart could hear it
I would.
But how to hold your sadness
when my hands must hold
the phone
is a song I don’t yet know.

I hear how singing the wrong words jangles your nerves
and makes your hurt feel hurtful more.

And so here –
here in this learning place
I wrap my love with care and send it far like precious package
and use my hands to dig my roots down deep through the rock of this new season
while I charge my heart – remember – how there’s always made a way
and we will land in light and time enough
to grow the music we are needing
to be filled up wild and freeing
in the love
we’re born
to be.

“Dialogue is easily spooked,  so you must be vigilant against fear,
dismissal,  manipulation and apathy – true enemies of safe dialogue.
You’ll feel it at first,  deep down,  the urge to rebut,  rebuke,  refute.
It will be a cold rock in your gut,  tempting you to correct or disagree,
or to be offended and center yourself in that person’s story.
But that instinct can be overcome,  and the results of someone feeling heard and respected
are immediate and palpable.
It takes a fairly high level of humility,  empathy and courage
to keep a space open and healthy.
It is a developed skill that takes practice.”
– Jen Hatmaker

Just gonna be saying about the things I’m living;
always i love when you come around and join the conversation
and appreciate that you read the words that I write down:)

Riffs of remembering….

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A vivid December wind scrolls clouds across the early morning sky
and somehow it heals the tired of me,
all this living in longing to do life simple,
to gather up the edges of my hope
and shake it out hard so I can lose the fluff
and draw up solid around me what remains,
like a blanket in the night
and feel it thump comfort
warm against my chest

and it’s a strong shot of courage that there is a bright hope
that remains
and I don’t want to forget that for a minute.

There is a lot I want to remember right now,

~that it’s not time wasted,
soaking in the presence of Love,
that basking is productive.

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~that there are angels ready and willing
and watching and waiting,
just listening for a prayer.
really.

~that prayer is so much like gardening,
it’s almost too simple,
(doesn’t much appeal to busyness and bustle)
it’s easy dance with Spirit that plants and weeds and waters
no matter how haphazard or unique to you.
(that listening is prayer,  too)

~that there is enough;
e
nough to have and be all we’re meant for
without cutting into someone else’s goodness.

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~that when we spend ourselves
throwing wood on the fire of joy in this sad world,
sometimes even belly-to-the-ground
blowing hard on graying coals,
shivering and heartsick for flame
in the cold wind of living,
it’s a beautiful thing and it matters.

In fact,  it  shrieks light against the dark
and,  whatever else this season is about,
I want to string more twinkle lights lonely places
because I’m not interested in being cool;
what gets my heart onto paper and wrapped in words
are those moments when we’re decidedly uncool,
when our hearts are hanging out there on our sleeves unguarded
and it’s all just raw and real and true.

I want to remember to say it,  the love,   when I wonder if I should,
to give it when I think maybe I might,
to be crazy generous in these tightfisted times.
Because life is too short to be cool;
I want a red hot love raging strong against the bitter cold and dark.

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“The only true currency in this bankrupt world
is what you share with someone else
when you’re uncool.”
-from “Almost Famous”

So glad to be sending a copy of my December issue of Ripplesongs
to Lady Fi;
so grateful to her for the beauty she shares and shines
(please message me,  friend,  with your address)

~