tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27931707674122041042024-03-04T21:12:05.983-07:00angelbirdfliesAngelina Lloydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653683200528876825noreply@blogger.comBlogger974125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2793170767412204104.post-39288291744410147362023-11-15T19:18:00.001-07:002023-11-15T19:19:22.080-07:00Inosculation<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvFmF4kOsoBbZWhitLkUmngNYmzc4OasWSw8GocVwY9hJ3eJy-ijlSQxU-u1p5JYwjbWzy9Wbl5OCVYyFvMoa9zNdiZYh3LSSRqOy1XqneoDsltULt3BCsnQuLCpqa4UQoDsHlCHw0R9GU_IpAHxbE45I0C9w8cv1YtNnQxdudGWPYQuvUB-VxYH5tGfyO/s3780/E8D56FFD-5FDE-4747-945E-0E899DBE53D3.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3780" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvFmF4kOsoBbZWhitLkUmngNYmzc4OasWSw8GocVwY9hJ3eJy-ijlSQxU-u1p5JYwjbWzy9Wbl5OCVYyFvMoa9zNdiZYh3LSSRqOy1XqneoDsltULt3BCsnQuLCpqa4UQoDsHlCHw0R9GU_IpAHxbE45I0C9w8cv1YtNnQxdudGWPYQuvUB-VxYH5tGfyO/w512-h640/E8D56FFD-5FDE-4747-945E-0E899DBE53D3.jpeg" width="512" /></a></div><br />I learned a new word today! Imagine my joy to discover "inosculation", to taste the word for the first time, rolling it around the soft interior of my mouth before speaking it aloud with a shiver of delight. <p></p><p>I am a lover of trees, not metaphorically but literally. I linger beneath their branches. I tear up beside their solid beauty and revel in the rough, steady touch of bark beneath a wide sky. I love learning anything new about my beloveds and today I discovered <i>inosculation</i>, which literally means to unite intimately.</p><p>Sometimes trees grow so close to each other that they rub up against one another. The friction of bark on bark wears away at the hard outer layers, revealing a tender, vulnerable, embryonic layer of life. If they stay in contact through the friction they will join together, uniting into a third thing.... a tree union. In such cases the trees share their life force with one another. I can think of no more perfect metaphor for beloved companions. </p><p>There are not enough words to express my love for trees but mostly I don't need to, I just revel in the feeling of homecoming whenever I am with them. Perhaps I am single because I keep looking for my tree family amongst the two legged.</p>Angelina Lloydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653683200528876825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2793170767412204104.post-77128176094140826772022-04-03T04:49:00.001-06:002022-04-03T04:49:36.928-06:00In Passing<img id="id_2dbd_3879_1898_9bb1" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/jYInL48We49KCKNxjt4lnr8MYU1pR0aW4SvvZLU4gYq995bo13NBYEQRP_u4cIszHCg" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 616px; height: auto; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; display: block;"><br><br><p style="font-size: 16px; margin: 0px 0px 1.4em; padding: 0px; border: 0px; font-family: fira-sans; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 1.6em; vertical-align: baseline; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; color: rgb(26, 26, 26);"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; vertical-align: baseline;">IN PASSING</span><br><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; vertical-align: baseline;">by Lisel Mueller</span></p><p style="font-size: 16px; margin: 0px 0px 1.4em; padding: 0px; border: 0px; font-family: fira-sans; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 1.6em; vertical-align: baseline; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; color: rgb(26, 26, 26);">How swiftly the strained honey<br>of afternoon light<br>flows into darkness</p><p style="font-size: 16px; margin: 0px 0px 1.4em; padding: 0px; border: 0px; font-family: fira-sans; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 1.6em; vertical-align: baseline; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; color: rgb(26, 26, 26);">and the closed bud shrugs off<br>its special mystery<br>in order to break into blossom:</p><p style="font-size: 16px; margin: 0px 0px 1.4em; padding: 0px; border: 0px; font-family: fira-sans; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 1.6em; vertical-align: baseline; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; color: rgb(26, 26, 26);">as if what exists, exists<br>so that it can be lost<br>and become precious.</p> Angelina Lloydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653683200528876825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2793170767412204104.post-12397977396737620732022-03-23T06:14:00.004-06:002022-03-23T06:14:49.053-06:00Skeleton Woman..From Darkness (2002)<iframe frameborder="0" height="360" src="https://youtube.com/embed/B0ePFIp_4GQ" width="480"></iframe><div><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">This is me. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Since my dad threw me into the sea. When he told me why he'd never have come to protect me from my step father's abuse. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">I never had a harder fall. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">I have been bouncing along the depths, rattling bones and grasping</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">... or running and hiding and hoping for the tenderness that might bring me back to life. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Have you read Clarissa Pinkola Estes' chapter on Skeleton woman? </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">She is persephone. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">She is love's underbelly and necessity.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">This is totally a part of my story... </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">And still my own bones scare the living crap out of me. Rattling and running, seeking safe harbor in my heart.</span></div>Angelina Lloydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653683200528876825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2793170767412204104.post-76016192329961130812022-03-18T13:01:00.001-06:002022-03-18T13:01:58.261-06:00 FORGET ABOUT ‘HEALING’<img id="id_2a50_4392_6fbc_1359" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/lKDk7-KFKQ0F-bTpt15os8h8Ljh4XzriJ700rsnc7kgqE8SPHqH5XX-uZmFLJKyqFQw" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 353px; height: auto;"><br><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_2696_5be0_bad5_6bf1"><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_43c4_c89e_c487_3435"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">Some days, </span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_ccb1_26c9_a7de_e4e2"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">you just have to forget </span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_f7f3_c240_c101_2575"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">about ‘healing’.</span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_da7d_b3a7_e56e_744e"><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_172a_1cc6_18_5014"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">You have to stop trying to feel better, trying to overcome your emotional wounds, or trying to be anywhere other than where you are.</span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_7dc2_639c_6790_5996"><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_bd24_61d1_da1c_10a2"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">You have to embrace the day as it is.</span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_edaf_9ef1_ef5e_de0b"><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_e3bb_222c_9dce_2645"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">And you have to give yourself the most sacred permission of all:</span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_5182_9654_275_4519"><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_69aa_5441_6d4d_9d2"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">To shatter. </span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_e161_133b_f796_ed0d"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">To break. </span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_4e5d_6170_7776_6a78"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">To be an ugly mess.</span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_4a8_bf97_e9c0_1c61"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">To lean into a place of utter humility and powerlessness in yourself.</span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_ecc5_594d_e46f_f2d6"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">To cry out to the heavens, “I can’t do this!”</span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_dc62_82e2_f78f_17e0"><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_e53b_652c_277d_777b"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">To admit utter defeat </span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_761_42d3_99b1_cda6"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">in the loss of the life </span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_fe6e_f9cb_13a5_fdc1"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">you had imagined.</span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_906d_6f31_c51b_8ee5"><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_b6cd_205_8e61_fefb"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">To crumble to the ground, lonely and hopeless and profoundly ruined.</span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_93f2_fcac_d5e3_c3f5"><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_1ec8_1fc_1399_2ac9"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">To want to die, even.</span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_dd01_41bb_ea06_342b"><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_bb9d_d9cb_99be_f665"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">And there, in the darkest places, in the blackness of the underworld, you may begin to rediscover... life. </span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_7d7_26cc_a6c1_42fc"><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_dfaf_39a6_4ea7_113f"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">And learn to love the beginnings. A sacred reboot:</span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_6bfc_7761_fdc0_b03c"><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_b4b7_cd0_2083_4a04"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">A single breath. </span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_b1a6_9f8b_6e26_ec9b"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">The way the sun warms your face.</span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_2ac4_bfaf_ea80_fe11"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">The sound of a tiny bird singing in the tree over there.</span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_2ad_ecce_204b_ac44"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">The raw simplicity of a single moment of human existence.</span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_33c4_2c1c_61ae_4d9c"><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_dc79_2a22_5c03_9f24"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">Hell has been transmuted, through love and patience.</span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_fbae_26f0_95c6_54c2"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">You have discovered the wholeness in your brokenness.</span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_b1fa_44b8_b3f5_bd23"><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_17ca_b8a7_c790_e3e4"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">You have given up your idea of ‘healing’, </span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_754_f728_d346_5473"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">and you have uncovered something </span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_90_ab7d_700b_b7ac"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">infinitely more healing:</span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_9f19_570_a5c9_c9d9"><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_343f_f71d_b725_67db"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">Your authentic self. </span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_5201_8dea_ba74_d579"><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_7dd4_9126_738d_e263"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">Beautiful </span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_8a23_d4c0_be46_e205"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">and true </span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_a535_775e_6d3a_dfc0"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">and utterly fucking unfixable.</span><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_a0e3_ba6e_96f3_9b91"><img class="cff-linebreak" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; height: auto; max-width: 100%; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: bottom; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.7); display: block; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; width: 0px;" id="id_2733_a6a1_425e_156d"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Open Sans", arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">- Jeff Foster </span> Angelina Lloydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653683200528876825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2793170767412204104.post-9942565013164569402022-01-19T20:50:00.001-07:002022-01-19T20:50:50.809-07:00Constancy<img id="id_54b9_b3b3_b563_40ad" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/pDA5cb8zTUPxtwjtaRBxdQfHMGcikBEUsXaXrw8LlvW3nreSFnnofcxWpX9SvWdYes8" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 616px; height: auto; margin: 4px;"><br><br>“The problem with the word patience is that it implies we are waiting for something to get better, we are waiting for something good that will come. A more accurate word for this quality is constancy, a capacity to be with what is true moment after moment.“ Zen master Suzuki Roshi Angelina Lloydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653683200528876825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2793170767412204104.post-3447690921160279682022-01-15T06:05:00.001-07:002022-01-15T06:05:45.625-07:00The Peace of Wild Things<img id="id_4c4b_7e3_63a7_1358" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/BF8UaunH100Y5vTQ5SZ9RqULIdsi5KFAC8ThSd-ocKnZkaqtu4zuWcmgMAVQF2kd9to" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 353px; height: auto;"><br><span style="caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-family: super, serif; font-size: 17.723684310913086px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">When despair for the world grows in me</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-family: super, serif; font-size: 17.723684310913086px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-family: super, serif; font-size: 17.723684310913086px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">and I wake in the night at the least sound</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-family: super, serif; font-size: 17.723684310913086px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-family: super, serif; font-size: 17.723684310913086px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-family: super, serif; font-size: 17.723684310913086px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-family: super, serif; font-size: 17.723684310913086px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">I go and lie down where the wood drake</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-family: super, serif; font-size: 17.723684310913086px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-family: super, serif; font-size: 17.723684310913086px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-family: super, serif; font-size: 17.723684310913086px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-family: super, serif; font-size: 17.723684310913086px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">I come into the peace of wild things</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-family: super, serif; font-size: 17.723684310913086px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-family: super, serif; font-size: 17.723684310913086px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">who do not tax their lives with forethought</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-family: super, serif; font-size: 17.723684310913086px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-family: super, serif; font-size: 17.723684310913086px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">of grief. I come into the presence of still water.</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-family: super, serif; font-size: 17.723684310913086px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-family: super, serif; font-size: 17.723684310913086px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">And I feel above me the day-blind stars</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-family: super, serif; font-size: 17.723684310913086px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-family: super, serif; font-size: 17.723684310913086px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">waiting with their light. For a time</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-family: super, serif; font-size: 17.723684310913086px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-family: super, serif; font-size: 17.723684310913086px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.</span> <div><font color="#555555" face="super, serif"><span style="caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-size: 17.723684310913086px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">-Wendell Berry </span></font></div>Angelina Lloydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653683200528876825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2793170767412204104.post-66367855209018944182021-11-24T23:29:00.001-07:002021-11-24T23:30:04.296-07:00Ocean Home<img id="id_a02e_945c_4bbe_7d13" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/cOhKd_7DUAHzHPxfEEhRrmPKFT9TKZpRcRaV7gL6NUrMsa6K7orcXAVhtsjMDg-HJBo" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 616px; height: auto; margin: 4px;"><br><p style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Archivo; font-size: 20px; text-align: justify; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;"><em style="box-sizing: border-box;">“We are like islands in the sea, separate on the surface but connected on the deep.”</em></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Archivo; font-size: 20px; text-align: justify; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;">William James</p> Angelina Lloydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653683200528876825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2793170767412204104.post-24808292950829280062021-09-21T10:55:00.007-06:002021-09-21T11:18:45.152-06:00Do Trees Exist?<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ3LrQ69LDDr2ZvBNWRd1kUopwJaIoGOp6feEv2RtWZtQngekz4Kx-1qOEmvUVShyK28n-gDpLPZVi95QCuFMqdRbR0a4XXckdySr3bD4xJwodA-VrnXxYrqsLX1gTaCWueSA8C8rva5Vb/s2048/my+BELOVED.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ3LrQ69LDDr2ZvBNWRd1kUopwJaIoGOp6feEv2RtWZtQngekz4Kx-1qOEmvUVShyK28n-gDpLPZVi95QCuFMqdRbR0a4XXckdySr3bD4xJwodA-VrnXxYrqsLX1gTaCWueSA8C8rva5Vb/w640-h426/my+BELOVED.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div> <span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">A tree.</span><p></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-c5af6e8c-7fff-e94f-314f-42605149ce82"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Is there such a thing?</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In Genesis, God got busy naming things, well not directly, but the big G got the ball rolling with that famous opening line, “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.” And shit started happening. The whole Heaven/Earth thing linked by that mischievous word, “</span><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">and</span><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">”, simultaneously joined and separated the whole shebang in a single breath. Things got complicated after that. God passed the buck to man, giving “him” authority to name things with the caveat that, “Whatever [he] called every living creature, that was its name” (Genesis 2:19). Arguably things have been going downhill ever since.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The naming of a thing prioritizes our conceptual rhetoric over an experiential encounter. It’s not conscious, it's just how our conditioned brains work. For there to be an </span><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">up</span><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">there has to be a </span><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">down</span><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. For there to be a </span><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">right</span><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">there must be a </span><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">wrong</span><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. A </span><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">tree</span><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">naturally presupposes a “</span><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">not tree</span><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">”. The naming itself provides a cognitive framework for separation, whereby a thing becomes a noun rather than its native, relational and somewhat mystifying, verbness. The incomprehensible experience of treeness becomes “a tree”. We forfeit the complex network of connections and relationships in favor of an artifice of particulars and in return we gain a sense of separation and self preservation- the bedrock of this particular iteration of our human experience.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Naming is convenient to be sure. How else would we argue across political divides or compose sonnets while contemplating abstract physics? Words and our capacity for dualistic thought are hallmarks of human civilization, complete with our philosophies, ideologies, societies and politics. We run amuck when we mistake the name for what it points to.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Walking past the caramel trunk of a ponderosa pine warmed by sunshine and smelling like an earthy, vanilla embrace, I don’t see a tree, I see systems of belonging. I see insects and birds, animals and sunlight, constellations and mitochondria, root systems entwined with aspen, mahogany, fescue and more. I see fires and droughts. I see a century of exhales and my own lungs filled with mountain air. Do we have a name for this kind of seeing?</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I wish we did.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I wonder how much more alive we might feel if we held our propensity for naming, conceptualizing and compartmentalizing lightly in one hand and the whole unnameable mystery of being in the other? It’s quite possible we will find ourselves laughing in the garden, astonished by our own belonging and conscious, perhaps for the first time, that the nature we'd been destroying was no less than the same invisible God we’d been worshipping all along.</span></p>Click here to read it on elephant journal:</span><div><span><a href="https://www.elephantjournal.com/2021/09/do-trees-exist/">https://www.elephantjournal.com/2021/09/do-trees-exist/</a></span></div>Angelina Lloydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653683200528876825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2793170767412204104.post-18101304855237578472021-09-18T06:28:00.001-06:002021-09-18T06:32:01.203-06:00True Love <img id="id_c86d_894_2b0a_6b70" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/Wfhy_Uq798sWDjL_6xsyO15ARzJb9o5AdxYt1Ul8-dIWaDRZU_wmqFfM9NHGZ5CUIcI" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 392px; height: auto;"><br><br><div>THE TRUELOVE</div><div>by David Whyte</div><div>There is a faith in loving fiercely</div><div>the one who is rightfully yours,</div><div>especially if you have</div><div>waited years and especially</div><div>if part of you never believed</div><div>you could deserve this</div><div>loved and beckoning hand</div><div>held out to you this way.</div><div>I am thinking of faith now</div><div>and the testaments of loneliness</div><div>and what we feel we are</div><div>worthy of in this world.</div><div>Years ago in the Hebrides,</div><div>I remember an old man</div><div>who walked every morning</div><div>on the grey stones</div><div>to the shore of baying seals,</div><div>who would press his hat</div><div>to his chest in the blustering</div><div>salt wind and say his prayer</div><div>to the turbulent Jesus</div><div>hidden in the water,</div><div>and I think of the story</div><div>of the storm and everyone</div><div>waking and seeing</div><div>the distant</div><div>yet familiar figure</div><div>far across the water</div><div>calling to them</div><div>and how we are all</div><div>preparing for that</div><div>abrupt waking,</div><div>and that calling,</div><div>and that moment</div><div>we have to say yes,</div><div>except it will</div><div>not come so grandly</div><div>so Biblically</div><div>but more subtly</div><div>and intimately in the face</div><div>of the one you know</div><div>you have to love</div><div>so that when</div><div>we finally step out of the boat</div><div>toward them, we find</div><div>everything holds</div><div>us, and everything confirms</div><div>our courage, and if you wanted</div><div>to drown you could,</div><div>but you don’t</div><div>because finally</div><div>after all this struggle</div><div>and all these years</div><div>you simply don’t want to</div><div>any more</div><div>you’ve simply had enough</div><div>of drowning</div><div>and you want to live and you</div><div>want to love and you will</div><div>walk across any territory</div><div>and any darkness</div><div>however fluid and however</div><div>dangerous to take the</div><div>one hand you know</div><div>belongs in yours.</div><div><br></div>Angelina Lloydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653683200528876825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2793170767412204104.post-3158418419448503422021-08-26T18:57:00.004-06:002021-08-26T19:07:26.940-06:00Lonely<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIfsfRLB5-LnVn7xPahpnuWuPXAeP54HYP7Gp1NPBFyrvpm9IeAVRoOIMgkCh_G6QbSxSdCTZOm56xFmtDjmB2Hb-gR-e-f4D41q2JqjoYIkv-dH9KQsk_2jDSfhgxiptESpj3J50EoiGr/s4032/IMG_9501.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIfsfRLB5-LnVn7xPahpnuWuPXAeP54HYP7Gp1NPBFyrvpm9IeAVRoOIMgkCh_G6QbSxSdCTZOm56xFmtDjmB2Hb-gR-e-f4D41q2JqjoYIkv-dH9KQsk_2jDSfhgxiptESpj3J50EoiGr/w640-h480/IMG_9501.HEIC" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; margin: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I've been feeling the weight of loneliness a lot lately and doing my best to befriend it rather than resist or harden or numb. How? Good question. I've tried many things but the thing that is working best is to focus my gaze on this moment and this one and this, knowing I have all I need to meet this ever changing instant. </span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Here's what I mean:</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Today was hot. I went to the gym and after my workout I stepped out of the air-conditioned rooms and into an eighty degree day. It took my breath away. I stood still, transfixed by an overwhelming sensation of warm air caressing cool skin. I closed my eyes to inhale the last days of summer like an embrace so sweet and complete it left no room for lonely. Of course the feeling didn't last forever. Feelings never do. But it did last long enough for me to feel held. </span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia;">And that was enough. </span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I know many of you are also feeling the shadow of loneliness after a pandemic year, a social shut down, a continual influx of fractious news and the obvious implications of climate change. You are not alone. For a moment today I felt loved (I have no better word) by the tender fluctuations of warm air, bird song and breeze. I wish the same for each of you. </span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia;">May you feel loved. Wherever you are, I am pressing your hand, perhaps you'll feel it in the air.</span></div></div>Angelina Lloydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653683200528876825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2793170767412204104.post-89462365578368925472021-08-04T00:58:00.001-06:002021-08-04T00:59:20.767-06:00Cinnamon Peelers Wife By Michael Ondaatje<img id="id_ceaf_f56a_d8c0_6a4e" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/xw_3_YPSMXKLtZyFTAy4rJJknhw97aCZIbUBzKyUNX-_9AaAtYh60nGyWd5m3B0Bjdo" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 616px; height: auto; margin: 4px;"><br><div class="phContent phcText" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: sans-serif, serif; width: 394px; position: relative; float: left; word-break: break-word; line-height: 25.600000381469727px; padding: 20px; caret-color: rgb(72, 72, 72); color: rgb(72, 72, 72); background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><p style="box-sizing: border-box; padding: 0px 0px 20px; margin: 0px; font-size: inherit; line-height: 25.600000381469727px;">If I were a cinnamon peeler <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">I would ride your bed <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">And leave the yellow bark dust <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">On your pillow. <br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">Your breasts and shoulders would reek <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">You could never walk through markets <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">without the profession of my fingers <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">floating over you. The blind would <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">stumble certain of whom they approached</p><div class="ShowMore3" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin-top: 12px;"><p style="box-sizing: border-box; padding: 0px; margin: 0px; font-size: inherit; line-height: 25.600000381469727px;">though you might bathe <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">under rain gutters, monsoon. <br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">Here on the upper thigh <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">at this smooth pasture <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">neighbour to you hair <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">or the crease <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">that cuts your back. This ankle. <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">You will be known among strangers <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">as the cinnamon peeler's wife.</p></div><div class="ShowMore2" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin-top: 15px;"><p style="box-sizing: border-box; padding: 0px; margin: 0px; font-size: inherit; line-height: 25.600000381469727px;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">I could hardly glance at you <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">before marriage <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">never touch you <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">--your keen nosed mother, your rough brothers. <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">I buried my hands <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">in saffron, disguised them <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">over smoking tar, <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">helped the honey gatherers... <br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">When we swam once <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">I touched you in the water <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">and our bodies remained free, <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">you could hold me and be blind of smell. <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">you climbed the bank and said <br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">this is how you touch other women <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">the grass cutter's wife, the lime burner's daughter. <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">And you searched your arms <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">for the missing perfume <br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">and knew <br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">what good is it <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">to be the lime burner's daughter <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">left with no trace <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">as if not spoken to in the act of love <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">as if wounded without the pleasure of a scar. <br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">You touched <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">your belly to my hands <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">in the dry air and said <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">I am the cinnamon <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">Peeler's wife. Smell me.</p></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; padding: 0px; margin: 0px; font-size: inherit; line-height: 25.600000381469727px;"></p></div><div class="phPageBottom" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; box-sizing: border-box; padding: 20px 20px 0px; caret-color: rgb(72, 72, 72); color: rgb(72, 72, 72); font-family: sans-serif, serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><br></div> Angelina Lloydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653683200528876825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2793170767412204104.post-82649468399241581932021-07-22T08:14:00.001-06:002021-07-22T08:14:19.567-06:00Seek-Sorrow <div id="comp-khumwlum" class="_2bafp" data-testid="richTextElement" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; margin: 10px 0px 10px calc(0.5 * (100% - 320px)); padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: none; word-wrap: break-word; overflow-wrap: break-word; min-height: var(--min-height); position: relative; left: 20px; grid-row-start: 1; grid-column-start: 1; grid-row-end: 2; grid-column-end: 2; justify-self: start; align-self: start; width: 280px; height: auto; --font_0: normal normal normal 26px/1.4em proxima-n-w01-reg,sans-serif; --font_1: normal normal normal 13.866666666666667px/1.4em din-next-w01-light,din-next-w02-light,din-next-w10-light,sans-serif; --font_2: normal normal normal 22.533333333333335px/1.4em proxima-n-w01-reg,sans-serif; --font_3: normal normal normal 32.06666666666667px/1.4em proxima-n-w01-reg,sans-serif; --font_4: normal normal normal 26px/1.4em proxima-n-w01-reg,sans-serif; --font_5: normal normal normal 21.666666666666668px/1.4em proxima-n-w01-reg,sans-serif; --font_6: normal normal normal 19.066666666666666px/1.4em proxima-n-w01-reg,sans-serif; --font_7: normal normal normal 14.733333333333334px/1.4em proxima-n-w01-reg,sans-serif; --font_8: normal normal normal 13px/1.4em proxima-n-w01-reg,sans-serif; --font_9: normal normal normal 13px/1.4em proxima-n-w01-reg,sans-serif; --font_10: normal normal normal 11.266666666666667px/1.4em din-next-w01-light,din-next-w02-light,din-next-w10-light,sans-serif; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px;"><img id="id_81cb_ee58_9a2d_2a8d" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/X2yySiCXd2772PHL8UCm9fC_-x77Gl_9Crw7ZcKfIPNAQVJK-wBUuNdHlMJDDqjj3FU" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 392px; height: auto;"><br><br><h1 class="font_0" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: auto; font: var(--font_0); font-size: 26px; line-height: normal; color: rgb(var(--color_15));">Seek-sorrow</h1></div><div id="comp-khumyb6y" class="_2bafp" data-testid="richTextElement" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; margin: 0px 0px 10px calc(0.5 * (100% - 320px)); padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: none; word-wrap: break-word; overflow-wrap: break-word; min-height: var(--min-height); position: relative; left: 20px; grid-row-start: 2; grid-column-start: 1; grid-row-end: 3; grid-column-end: 2; justify-self: start; align-self: start; width: 280px; height: auto; --font_0: normal normal normal 28px/1.4em proxima-n-w01-reg,sans-serif; --font_1: normal normal normal 14.933333333333334px/1.4em din-next-w01-light,din-next-w02-light,din-next-w10-light,sans-serif; --font_2: normal normal normal 24.266666666666666px/1.4em proxima-n-w01-reg,sans-serif; --font_3: normal normal normal 34.53333333333333px/1.4em proxima-n-w01-reg,sans-serif; --font_4: normal normal normal 28px/1.4em proxima-n-w01-reg,sans-serif; --font_5: normal normal normal 23.333333333333332px/1.4em proxima-n-w01-reg,sans-serif; --font_6: normal normal normal 20.533333333333335px/1.4em proxima-n-w01-reg,sans-serif; --font_7: normal normal normal 15.866666666666667px/1.4em proxima-n-w01-reg,sans-serif; --font_8: normal normal normal 14px/1.4em proxima-n-w01-reg,sans-serif; --font_9: normal normal normal 14px/1.4em proxima-n-w01-reg,sans-serif; --font_10: normal normal normal 12.133333333333333px/1.4em din-next-w01-light,din-next-w02-light,din-next-w10-light,sans-serif; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px;"><p class="font_8" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: auto; font: var(--font_8); font-size: 15px; line-height: normal; color: rgb(var(--color_15));"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I learned an ancient word today.</span></p><p class="font_8" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: auto; font: var(--font_8); font-size: 15px; line-height: normal; color: rgb(var(--color_15));"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Such a beautiful, sad word:</span></p><p class="font_8" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: auto; font: var(--font_8); font-size: 15px; line-height: normal; color: rgb(var(--color_15));"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Seek-sorrow.</span></p><p class="font_8" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: auto; font: var(--font_8); font-size: 15px; line-height: normal; color: rgb(var(--color_15));"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></p><p class="font_8" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: auto; font: var(--font_8); font-size: 15px; line-height: normal; color: rgb(var(--color_15));"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">There are those who, in their quest for reality,</span></p><p class="font_8" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: auto; font: var(--font_8); font-size: 15px; line-height: normal; color: rgb(var(--color_15));"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">See only the wound, but not the healing skin beneath.</span></p><p class="font_8" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: auto; font: var(--font_8); font-size: 15px; line-height: normal; color: rgb(var(--color_15));"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">They immerse in the infinite misery that besets us</span></p><p class="font_8" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: auto; font: var(--font_8); font-size: 15px; line-height: normal; color: rgb(var(--color_15));"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">And cannot open ears or eyes to the speckled joys that also share our world.</span></p><p class="font_8" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: auto; font: var(--font_8); font-size: 15px; line-height: normal; color: rgb(var(--color_15));"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></p><p class="font_8" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: auto; font: var(--font_8); font-size: 15px; line-height: normal; color: rgb(var(--color_15));"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">The seek-sorrow frowns at delights</span></p><p class="font_8" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: auto; font: var(--font_8); font-size: 15px; line-height: normal; color: rgb(var(--color_15));"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">And bids you furrow also.</span></p><p class="font_8" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: auto; font: var(--font_8); font-size: 15px; line-height: normal; color: rgb(var(--color_15));"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I know those who are so.</span></p><p class="font_8" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: auto; font: var(--font_8); font-size: 15px; line-height: normal; color: rgb(var(--color_15));"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Perhaps you do, too.</span></p><p class="font_8" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: auto; font: var(--font_8); font-size: 15px; line-height: normal; color: rgb(var(--color_15));"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></p><p class="font_8" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: auto; font: var(--font_8); font-size: 15px; line-height: normal; color: rgb(var(--color_15));"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">But may we not be beckoned</span></p><p class="font_8" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: auto; font: var(--font_8); font-size: 15px; line-height: normal; color: rgb(var(--color_15));"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">By the small, clear, Autumn sky</span></p><p class="font_8" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: auto; font: var(--font_8); font-size: 15px; line-height: normal; color: rgb(var(--color_15));"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">And the tide of leaves rushing towards us</span></p><p class="font_8" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: auto; font: var(--font_8); font-size: 15px; line-height: normal; color: rgb(var(--color_15));"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">And the mourning dove’s strange, creaky-winged flight?</span></p><p class="font_8" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: auto; font: var(--font_8); font-size: 15px; line-height: normal; color: rgb(var(--color_15));"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></p><p class="font_8" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: auto; font: var(--font_8); font-size: 15px; line-height: normal; color: rgb(var(--color_15));"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Are such glories to be ignored</span></p><p class="font_8" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: auto; font: var(--font_8); font-size: 15px; line-height: normal; color: rgb(var(--color_15));"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">So that we may not distract from suffering?</span></p><p class="font_8" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: auto; font: var(--font_8); font-size: 15px; line-height: normal; color: rgb(var(--color_15));"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Perhaps there is room enough for both</span></p><p class="font_8" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: auto; font: var(--font_8); font-size: 15px; line-height: normal; color: rgb(var(--color_15));"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">In our unbounded consciousness.</span></p><p class="font_8" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: auto; font: var(--font_8); font-size: 15px; line-height: normal; color: rgb(var(--color_15));"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></p><p class="font_8" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: auto; font: var(--font_8); font-size: 15px; line-height: normal; color: rgb(var(--color_15));"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">For, in truth, the sorrows need no seeking</span></p><p class="font_8" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: auto; font: var(--font_8); font-size: 15px; line-height: normal; color: rgb(var(--color_15));"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">And neither do the joys.</span></p><p class="font_8" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; pointer-events: auto; font: var(--font_8); font-size: 15px; line-height: normal; color: rgb(var(--color_15));"><span style="color: rgb(var(--color_15)); font: var(--font_6); font-size: 14px;"> by Olivia Hajioff</span></p></div> Angelina Lloydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653683200528876825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2793170767412204104.post-14898665452238763452021-07-14T23:37:00.004-06:002021-07-14T23:56:08.478-06:00Bodhi<blockquote style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; margin: 40px 40px 24px;"><p style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Lora, serif; font-size: 18px; margin: 0px 0px 26px; padding: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAPAYcOi31kG4CJAJIbZrvzUfb6IXklRIns25coO_vCswznpoPSFEnWJM_2fU-mYYmD_irJmawUJbVZAauK4IjxsXomQuyLIGbWp4pCNTxT_RjaylRTZCazpjWFHkkZEgFXKqteyfLaSOi/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAPAYcOi31kG4CJAJIbZrvzUfb6IXklRIns25coO_vCswznpoPSFEnWJM_2fU-mYYmD_irJmawUJbVZAauK4IjxsXomQuyLIGbWp4pCNTxT_RjaylRTZCazpjWFHkkZEgFXKqteyfLaSOi/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></span></span><div class="kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; margin: 0px; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkw8R6Bp10VvGaIPVeD4UcPXKVJhjKwSuM4_MK_0ag3ej9NvaVrSIsj98c2Gy-K7FqGq7whWyxoBM05_eV4QynGnWrevuz5NtLZRBCH4yU_PuXzHZmfg2njRNj3tvwvuTi7cQzDw0nwpjU/s1398/IMG_4123.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1398" data-original-width="1194" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkw8R6Bp10VvGaIPVeD4UcPXKVJhjKwSuM4_MK_0ag3ej9NvaVrSIsj98c2Gy-K7FqGq7whWyxoBM05_eV4QynGnWrevuz5NtLZRBCH4yU_PuXzHZmfg2njRNj3tvwvuTi7cQzDw0nwpjU/w343-h400/IMG_4123.jpeg" width="343" /></a></div></div></div></div></div></div></blockquote><blockquote style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; margin: 40px 40px 24px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; margin: 0px; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: times;">My son saunters to the car, shoulders bent, hair dyed an audacious red. He opens the passenger door and climbs inside wearing a metal spiked collar and leather jacket in June alongside the "F*** you" attitude of adolescence. As we drive I make bumbling, parental attempts at connection... </span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: times;">"How was the day love?"</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: times;">"Don't therapize me mom." </span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: times;">"What do you think about____?" </span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: times;">"I don't know mom."</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: times;">My chit-chat is met with a slow, silent stare. I sit back in my seat and drive, filling the car with a quiet love and untangling my tension one breath at a time. After several miles he turns to me, phone in hand, lips curled with disgust and says, "We will pass the threshold for global warming between 2027 and 2042. The point of no return. That's in this decade." He shakes his head and glares out the window at the grass laden hills rolling by. </span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: times;">I feel his anger and the pain beneath it. I feel it now as his mother, a human caught in a web of social machinations distorting a spinning blue paradise with greed and delusion.</span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: times;">I listen to the wind rushing past the car's window. There's more noise on the highway of course but it's quieter too. The song of the Great Plains has changed since I was a child. Half of the bird populations are gone. There are less bugs too. I don't have to clean my windshield because the total mass of insects disappears at a rate of 2.5% each year. When someone casually tosses a plastic bottle onto the road I know that same plastic fills our oceans at the rate of five full grocery bags for every foot of coastline on earth. Out of sight out of mind. And that's not even the tip of our melting iceberg. </span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: times;">This is part of his inheritance. A society intent of division, on numbing and distraction, missing the beauty stored in a single moment, in every eye, in each blade of grass and drop of water. </span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: times;">I look at my son. I am full of silent apologies for my species, for manifest destiny, for slavery, for holocausts, for extinctions, for greed, for comfort. I nod at his hardened eyes and the pain behind them and then I look out the window at the world I love, not as a child loves its mother, nor as a mother loves her child. I love this wild blue planet as a lover loves her beloved. With all the tenderness my mind, body and soul can muster. I feel each breeze like a soft breath rustling my hair, each verdant leaf a caress as birds sing sonnets along creeks rushing in welcome. I love it. All of it. And regardless of our misguided ideas we are nature. We are earth. And this is his inheritance too.</span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: times;">Angry teenagers have a right to be pissed. Perhaps their fire may help to shake us from our stupor of more. </span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: times;">We are called to stand, to see and to witness the cruelty we've inflicted on one another, on life. It's time to let our shadows catch up to us and feel the weight of all that has been tortured, sacrificed or trampled for our comfort. Only then will we have the capacity to cultivate a wise response to the unknown territories ahead. We can do it. We can.</span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: times;">Silently I say, "May we be free from suffering and the roots of suffering. May we enjoy happiness and the ROOTS of happiness. May all beings be free." I say it for you. I say it for me. I say it for my children and for my Beloved blue planet. </span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: times;">I park the car. My son opens the door and climbs out, then looks back at me. "I love you mom." I smile and nod, "I love you son." A bird sings from its perch amidst the heart shaped leaves of a catalpa tree bent over the road in an embrace.</span></div></div></div></div></blockquote>Angelina Lloydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653683200528876825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2793170767412204104.post-36771705504473911792021-06-27T06:57:00.001-06:002021-06-27T06:57:26.346-06:00When It’s Over<img id="id_ccd2_f0aa_ed90_5343" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/hq16lkSn_MRYkni6TpLhOuGPl-jcEFBzt3vHFJtnB57LC-qdY3YI0rKg6oGLtOX8uag" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 616px; height: auto; margin: 4px;"><br>“When it’s over, I want to say: all my life<br><div>I was a bride married to amazement.</div><div>I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.</div><div>When it is over, I don’t want to wonder</div><div>if I have made of my life something particular, and real.</div><div>I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened, or full of argument.</div><div>I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.”</div><div>– Mary Oliver</div> Angelina Lloydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653683200528876825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2793170767412204104.post-16985876616856584012021-06-25T14:18:00.002-06:002021-06-25T14:18:10.997-06:00Mary Oliver<p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimo7JE5dD6sSr4bVI3T9bLUe-gdQeDMbKmTcPx3UK3Bu67VmyBc8CLnU-_WsHXin0tRX4XNGBNeyzEkEQa-j-0VMdGtDTfHUPPFhQ9sYFZUYoSer6DKdlPBXgTjAN5Syp8I8_zw10FF_8G/s2048/IMG_3986.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimo7JE5dD6sSr4bVI3T9bLUe-gdQeDMbKmTcPx3UK3Bu67VmyBc8CLnU-_WsHXin0tRX4XNGBNeyzEkEQa-j-0VMdGtDTfHUPPFhQ9sYFZUYoSer6DKdlPBXgTjAN5Syp8I8_zw10FF_8G/w640-h426/IMG_3986.JPG" width="640" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />“What kind of life is it always to plan</span><p></p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818;">and do, to promise and finish, to wish</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818;">for the near and the safe? Yes, by the</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818;">heavens, if I wanted a boat I would want</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818;">a boat I couldn't steer.”</span></span><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818;">― </span><span class="authorOrTitle" style="background-color: white; color: #333333;">Mary Oliver, </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818;"></span><span id="quote_book_link_20821239" style="background-color: white; color: #181818;"><a class="authorOrTitle" href="https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/40167110" style="color: #333333; text-decoration-line: none;">Blue Horses</a></span></span></div>Angelina Lloydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653683200528876825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2793170767412204104.post-18881416024087891602021-06-25T09:04:00.001-06:002021-06-25T14:16:04.627-06:00As Dogs<br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPhGf6a1D8lijE0zbQphgJy3bLRT5SFk9bFxAo-QIQPxxSnU2JVfL1pgYopcaR3QEIsaPpk7rN36lfpxWEX8Pklul9s8ljhrWLlLNM612lzQRbzFQIi1kK80iZUssgHU1d-mHaROEzXIL8/s920/UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_1e63d.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="601" data-original-width="920" height="418" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPhGf6a1D8lijE0zbQphgJy3bLRT5SFk9bFxAo-QIQPxxSnU2JVfL1pgYopcaR3QEIsaPpk7rN36lfpxWEX8Pklul9s8ljhrWLlLNM612lzQRbzFQIi1kK80iZUssgHU1d-mHaROEzXIL8/w640-h418/UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_1e63d.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">As dogs</div><div><br /></div><div>Rachel B. Glaser</div><div><br /></div><div>I try a new way of imagining people </div><div>as dogs</div><div>as dogs it makes sense </div><div>why anyone would be drawn to do anything </div><div>just as dogs rub themselves </div><div>in patches of grass</div><div>or suddenly lick a face</div><div>as dogs you can surely forgive</div><div>your mother</div><div>because she makes a funny dog</div><div>with frilly fur and worried eyes</div><div>and as a dog, is it so bad </div><div>you spend so much time</div><div>recalling a certain smell</div><div>or staring too long and too intently</div><div>at a torn leaf in a hot tub </div><div>a dog falls ill and says nothing</div><div>over time, they destroy the things they love</div><div>picture whoever is giving you trouble </div><div>or whatever part of you desires more than it has</div><div>then see a dog </div><div>pulling against the chain gripping his neck</div><div>or barely moving under a bench</div><div>watch the dog run away from everything it knows</div><div>do you blame them?</div> <br />Angelina Lloydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653683200528876825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2793170767412204104.post-17598568757343796822021-05-30T08:13:00.001-06:002021-05-30T08:13:15.125-06:00SOJOURNS IN THE PARALLEL WORLD<img id="id_820d_b8b6_f70d_46e8" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/CUpgkpH3-JP555eockeW4GhKlKFxtOggZBr2WpMDZONSGUr14jyYk7Q_bCzUZJ3i6Qs" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 616px; height: auto; margin: 4px;"><br><br><p style="font-size: 16px; margin: 0px 0px 1.4em; padding: 0px; border: 0px; font-family: fira-sans; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 1.6em; vertical-align: baseline; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; color: rgb(26, 26, 26);"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; vertical-align: baseline;">SOJOURNS IN THE PARALLEL WORLD</span><br><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; vertical-align: baseline;">by Denise Levertov</span></p><p style="font-size: 16px; margin: 0px 0px 1.4em; padding: 0px; border: 0px; font-family: fira-sans; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 1.6em; vertical-align: baseline; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; color: rgb(26, 26, 26);">We live our lives of human passions,<br>cruelties, dreams, concepts,<br>crimes and the exercise of virtue<br>in and beside a world devoid<br>of our preoccupations, free<br>from apprehension—though affected,<br>certainly, by our actions. A world<br>parallel to our own though overlapping.<br>We call it “Nature”; only reluctantly<br>admitting ourselves to be “Nature” too.<br>Whenever we lose track of our own obsessions,<br>our self-concerns, because we drift for a minute,<br>an hour even, of pure (almost pure)<br>response to that insouciant life:<br>cloud, bird, fox, the flow of light, the dancing<br>pilgrimage of water, vast stillness<br>of spellbound ephemerae on a lit windowpane,<br>animal voices, mineral hum, wind<br>conversing with rain, ocean with rock, stuttering<br>of fire to coal—then something tethered<br>in us, hobbled like a donkey on its patch<br>of gnawed grass and thistles, breaks free.<br>No one discovers<br>just where we’ve been, when we’re caught up again<br>into our own sphere (where we must<br>return, indeed, to evolve our destinies)<br>—but we have changed, a little.</p> Angelina Lloydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653683200528876825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2793170767412204104.post-53360456369606296632021-05-03T08:46:00.001-06:002021-05-03T08:46:31.040-06:00Love After Love <img id="id_aebb_b7c_cf55_4b33" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/AOtb1xKU7ztzWb5uubs2bMY9UL9oPTusWjyfQHEG41yS7IZ0ki0mKdBzq3egf9Z-66c" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 616px; height: auto; margin: 4px;"><br><br><p style="font-size: 16px; margin: 0px 0px 1.4em; padding: 0px; border: 0px; font-family: fira-sans; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 1.6em; vertical-align: baseline; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; color: rgb(26, 26, 26);"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; vertical-align: baseline;">LOVE AFTER LOVE</span><br><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; vertical-align: baseline;">by Derek Walcott</span></p><p style="font-size: 16px; margin: 0px 0px 1.4em; padding: 0px; border: 0px; font-family: fira-sans; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 1.6em; vertical-align: baseline; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; color: rgb(26, 26, 26);">The time will come<br>when, with elation,<br>you will greet yourself arriving<br>at your own door, in your own mirror,<br>and each will smile at the other’s welcome,<br>and say, sit here. Eat.<br>You will love again the stranger who was your self.<br>Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart<br>to itself, to the stranger who has loved you</p><p style="font-size: 16px; margin: 0px 0px 1.4em; padding: 0px; border: 0px; font-family: fira-sans; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 1.6em; vertical-align: baseline; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; color: rgb(26, 26, 26);">all your life, whom you ignored<br>for another, who knows you by heart.<br>Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,</p><p style="font-size: 16px; margin: 0px 0px 1.4em; padding: 0px; border: 0px; font-family: fira-sans; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 1.6em; vertical-align: baseline; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; color: rgb(26, 26, 26);">the photographs, the desperate notes,<br>peel your own image from the mirror.<br>Sit. Feast on your life.</p> Angelina Lloydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653683200528876825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2793170767412204104.post-62617057476709815172021-05-02T05:39:00.001-06:002021-05-02T05:44:01.345-06:00 The Importance of Wonder <br><br><img id="id_6f7a_6a3f_d4a7_58b6" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/LTTWR2aSnhTOYVev8lki448TbGIG5_ZkwYgeFJxLNASWIUtsfe49NfVM6r8JNVuLfXQ" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 616px; height: auto; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; display: block;"><br><span style="caret-color: rgb(118, 118, 118); color: rgb(118, 118, 118); font-family: Americana, serif; font-size: 17px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;">It is mid-morning. The sun hints at the summer months ahead, as I walk around Denver’s largest lake alongside other city goers similarly seeking a bit of nature on a fine spring day. Couples and families dot the park, lounging on blankets and feasting on warmth. A man hurries past, gesticulating wildly to no one in particular, while talking at a fast clip to coworkers piped in through bluetooth earbuds. A young man rollerblades a languid dance while singing softly to a song only he can hear. Runners dart past, brows furrowed with concentration. My uttered hello's are lost amidst an array of podcasts, playlists and calls. My smile, hidden behind a cloth mask, crinkles my eyes in welcome. I walk on.</span><br><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 15px; caret-color: rgb(118, 118, 118); color: rgb(118, 118, 118); font-family: Americana, serif; font-size: 17px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;">The lake narrows as it bends around its eastern edge. I round the corner and see her, standing in the center of the path, three-foot-tall on tiptoe, wearing a yellow canvas hat pulled low over ruffled curls. Her lemony sun dress layered atop rainbow striped leggings and a matching long sleeve shirt, pairs fashionably with her petal pink galoshes. Her nanny watches from a nearby grassy knoll, scrolling through a smartphone. The child notices me. I smile. She grins wide in return with the welcoming enthusiasm of a three year old. She points out at the lake. I nod to her nanny before crouching beside her to peer in the direction of her outstretched hand. </p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 15px; caret-color: rgb(118, 118, 118); color: rgb(118, 118, 118); font-family: Americana, serif; font-size: 17px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;">“Clouds”, she says. I nod, quiet for a moment as we take in the beauty of a blue sky dotted with cushiony, soft clouds. I point in the same direction and say, “Look! The clouds are in the water too.” Her brow furrows, looking at the reflected sky. “Yes! Yes!”, she agrees. Suddenly earnest, she tells me, “I have clouds at my house too.” I nod. Serious, I take a sip from my water bottle and reply, “I have clouds in me too.” She looks at me and my orange nalgene bottle for a minute, considering, and then smiles and nods, knowingly, “My mom does too”. We smile. She shows me a stuffie tucked beneath her arm. “Pleased to meet you,'' I say, nodding to the well loved friend. We look again at the clouds. She hugs her stuffie. I stand, thanking her for reminding me to see the clouds. She waves back, bouncing on her heels. I walk on, suddenly more aware of the bustling adults who don’t seem to notice the clouds in the water, the geese swimming along the shore or the chak-chak-syrupy song of a red-winged black bird perched atop swaying cattails at the water's edge. I think of children and all they can teach us.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 15px; caret-color: rgb(118, 118, 118); color: rgb(118, 118, 118); font-family: Americana, serif; font-size: 17px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;"> </p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 15px; caret-color: rgb(118, 118, 118); color: rgb(118, 118, 118); font-family: Americana, serif; font-size: 17px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;">Several years ago, while studying community involvement alongside my students, we began regular walks in our urban neighborhood. We didn’t walk far. We moved at the pace of a young child, pausing often to marvel over dew drops on a spider's web and the slow march of ants across the sidewalk. The children noticed ordinary things with extraordinary delight. They waved enthusiastic greetings to the local garbage truck as it noisily rumbled up the street. They stood in transfixed awe as enormous cranes delivered building supplies to ant sized workers atop six-story buildings. I asked a group of five-year-olds why moseying along with them was so different from walking with grown-ups. A boy raised his hand, blue eyes intent behind rimmed spectacles, and answered, “People notice what matters to them. We notice spiderwebs and ants, because spiderwebs and ants matter to us. Everyone notices what matters to them but not everyone cares about the same things.” I smiled, amazed again by the clarity of a child. He was right of course. We all pay attention to what we deem important.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 15px; caret-color: rgb(118, 118, 118); color: rgb(118, 118, 118); font-family: Americana, serif; font-size: 17px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;">This pandemic has been challenging to say the least. On everyone. I have heard parents express a growing frustration and concern over what has been dubbed, ‘the lost year’. Their worry is that children are falling behind in development and education. I understand. This hasn’t been easy. My own son is in middle school and was no less affected by a year spent learning at home, alone and untended, behind a computer screen. And yet the year wasn’t lost. How could it be? Children are always learning. </p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 15px; caret-color: rgb(118, 118, 118); color: rgb(118, 118, 118); font-family: Americana, serif; font-size: 17px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;"> As adults, we prioritize reading, writing and arithmetic because they matter to us. And they should, we need them to function in society and our children will too, along with a great many other things. Schools are meant to prepare children to meet the future. But when the three R’s become the only thing we notice we are missing a bigger picture. We are like my fellow lakeside walkers who overlook the clouds and bird songs amidst a barrage of busy. We can ask ourselves if our view is complete? Is there value to listening to the birds outside an open window? Is there value in the boredom that results from an unplugged afternoon? Is a child learning when at play? Have our children gained anything from more family time? Has less structured activity resulted in something positive? Was curiosity allowed to mature? And wonder? </p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 15px; caret-color: rgb(118, 118, 118); color: rgb(118, 118, 118); font-family: Americana, serif; font-size: 17px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;">As an early childhood educator, working and learning alongside children for more than twenty years, I say, unequivocally, the year was not lost. It would only be lost if we failed to live it. Our children are not behind. Their traditional learning was upended. Their worlds turned upside down, as everyone’s was. But they aren’t behind. Humans have an intrinsic capacity to learn. It’s one of the amazing things about us. We can trust that. If we push young children to value what we value we often meet with resistance. Drilling a young child at home to learn their letters and numerals may result in them becoming work avoidant at school. Why? Because play and wonder are childhood needs. </p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 15px; caret-color: rgb(118, 118, 118); color: rgb(118, 118, 118); font-family: Americana, serif; font-size: 17px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;">If we overlook the clouds we inadvertently teach our child that clouds don’t matter, “Seen one, you’ve seen them all.” When we rush past the garbage truck without a genial wave, we tell them to prioritize busyness over pleasantries. When we speak of a lost year what we are really saying is that we love our children and we want them to thrive. This pandemic has been hard. There’s no way around it, but I guarantee the year was not lost. You can trust your child’s intrinsic capacity to learn, to adapt, to grow and develop, like a bud freshly opening into a flower.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 15px; caret-color: rgb(118, 118, 118); color: rgb(118, 118, 118); font-family: Americana, serif; font-size: 17px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;">As spring arrives in the northern hemisphere bringing birds from distant environs to our newly budded trees, children will invite us to slow down and notice the world around us. They will ask us to allow this moment, in all its messy splendor to move us. They will teach us what matters to them: a cloud on the horizon, a butterfly, a dump truck, a silly tik-tok video, a stuffed toy, the sound of water, a bird in flight. And if luck is on our side, we may remember just how much those things matter to us too. Because amidst our busy lives, wonder is a thing that also needs accomplishing.</p> Angelina Lloydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653683200528876825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2793170767412204104.post-32231608825062972982021-04-20T19:09:00.010-06:002021-04-22T10:49:33.164-06:00 Old Man and a Pigeon<p><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></p><p dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-bc5df52b-7fff-8b30-a2fb-8149061f285b" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYLK37vBIo8Wd0ymjr0Oqi_9Kynfw3ecwSH8-QPIIoO4PCQoGUMkbzrxVdtB3xpIYjeWcQiqmuEnwoM1CXpSrXhqtfb8vGdVIsAKH1CwS1VL7bEuo2ZrJ7toFarJmnhRnvIZch1foT94v2/s356/78223601-6AA1-4C96-B5A9-BEA40ED3437B.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times;"><img border="0" data-original-height="315" data-original-width="356" height="566" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYLK37vBIo8Wd0ymjr0Oqi_9Kynfw3ecwSH8-QPIIoO4PCQoGUMkbzrxVdtB3xpIYjeWcQiqmuEnwoM1CXpSrXhqtfb8vGdVIsAKH1CwS1VL7bEuo2ZrJ7toFarJmnhRnvIZch1foT94v2/w640-h566/78223601-6AA1-4C96-B5A9-BEA40ED3437B.jpeg" width="640" /><br /></span></a><span style="font-family: times;">My dad sat quietly on a chipped azure bench, blue eyes watching the tide like an old friend. Weathered hands tugged at the corners of a thread-worn, teal blanket wrapped securely around shoulders, once broad and strong, now narrowed and bent. White hair and a wayward beard blew like sea foam across his face, assaulting eyes with sand, salt and curls. My dad didn’t use to lounge on the park benches of tourist traveled beaches. No. He preferred unguarded waters and abandoned stretches of sand on which to rest his chronically tan and muscular body. At ninety, his feet no longer walked with their former ease on the unsteady shoreline, so he sat instead, listening to a distant surf with face tilted to the sun. I perched on the sand at his feet, grateful for a few hours together. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Dad opened his eyes when a pigeon landed nearby with a flutter of wings and a soft, “pruuuu, prrruuu.” Dad watched the bird pecking at the sand. Soon more pigeons arrived and their chorus of “pruuuu, pruuuu, cruuuahru” filled the air. One, slightly darker and braver than the rest, hopped on dad’s foot. He leaned forward, palms on knees and squinted hard at the bird, saying, “Janko? Is that you Janko? ...Is that you my old friend?” Receiving no response he offered up a guttural bird song of his own, “Prruuuuuu, cruuuahru.” The pigeon looked up. “Prrrrruuuuu, cruuuahru”, my old man sang. The bird peered in his direction, blinking transparent eyelids, before flying a few yards off. Dad leaned back, closing his own watery eyes and said, “No. I guess not. But you looked like Janko”.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Janko had flown away forty years earlier, after one of his wives left. Maybe it was his fourth who had taken my brothers and I with her? He doesn’t remember anymore and perhaps it doesn’t matter. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">With eyes closed Dad said, “Kid, if you’re lucky a bird will love you. It sometimes happens like that.” He opened one eye and conspiratorially glanced at the pigeon, “Right Janko?” Then resumed relaxing his wizened body in the sun, allowing memory to carry him across the tides of time to himself, as a younger man, who cared for homing pigeons to nurse a broken heart. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Dad had spent his life building houses and catching waves. After a long day pitting hammer against nail, he’d slide into a blue-grey California sea to unwind before jostling home in his blue ford truck. He pulled into the driveway and a flock of pigeons cooed from their house on the hill. Dad turned the engine off and lingered, listening to their avian welcome before making his way to the wood-framed, wire coop. His voice was soft and loving as he stroked their feathered necks and backs. The birds nuzzled his hand as he turned the latch to reveal a small flight window. In a feathery rush the blue sky filled with a grey flutter of wings. He hummed, mucking the coop with a bed of clean straw before filling bins with grain and water. The birds invariably returned, unbidden, to eat and roost. <br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Dad had always been a friend of birds. As a boy he’d discovered a small family of pigeons living beneath a neighbors house and crawled on his belly crooning “cruuuahru, cruuuarah” until the birds came to him one by one. Dad didn’t believe in pets. He’d told me, “Neither man nor beast should be held captive or caged against their will kid, remember that”. And I did. But the pigeons returned to him, day after day, tethered by love and the promise of food.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Back at the beach Dad turned to me, “Did I ever tell you about Janko?” I shook my head no, eager for any story from a man I loved with all my heart but who I knew more as myth than as a man. He closed his eyes, leaned back his head and began, “Janko was one of my homing pigeons. I don’t know why he was different but he was. He liked your old man. He’d eat from my hand and when he sat on my shoulder he’d nuzzle at my neck. I liked Janko too. I’d look for him when I opened the coop and I’d look for him to come home when he was gone. I don’t know why some animals become your friends. I don’t know why some people do. They just do.” Dad looked at me to make sure I was following along. I was. He continued, “I was in a club for people who raised homing pigeons and we’d place money on our birds to see how fast they’d make it back. My pigeons were champion homers.” </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“One day I took them all the way up the Oregon coast and waited for them to come home. I had a hundred dollars on the flight. And sure enough Janko was first by a longshot. But he hadn’t come home to roost like expected. I’d spent the day working on a house in Carlsbad and was just putting away my tools when Janko flew down to land on the tailgate of my old truck, cooing soft. He was the first bird back but because he hadn’t come to the coop like the other birds I lost a hundred dollars. No one believed me that a bird could find me instead of his home. That’s just not how things work. Homing pigeons find their coop, not a person. But Janko was different. From then on, no matter where I dropped the pigeons off, Janko would find me.” </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Dad smiled, remembering, “For most pigeons and people home is food in your belly and a roof over your head. But that’s not true for people like me and you kid. It wasn’t true for Janko either. Home is where your love is. Remember that. That’s why Janko could find me. Because, for Janko, I was home.” Dad closed his eyes. I laid my head on his knee, listening to the sound of the waves as tears glided down my cheeks. He stroked my hair and for a while I was home.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My dad, Dave Lloyd, died nearly two years ago. </span><span style="font-family: times; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Since then my eldest son moved away for college. My youngest asked to spend more time with his Dad, a pandemic gripped the world and a relationship ended. I found myself a bit unmoored in spite of a house to come home to. It was a strange experience, not unlike Janko circling in ever widening circles, searching for home. I spent the year looking for a place to land. It wasn’t easy. But in time my sense of love and home broadened. Home will always be with those I love, but it also became a vanilla scented pine tree three miles up my favorite trail and a dear friend's recurring texts asking, “How are you today?” Home became a classroom full of children and the three women I teach alongside. Home became phone calls and zooms with loved ones scattered across the world. Home is where your love is and the more you love the more home you have. I remembered Dad.</span></p><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p>Angelina Lloydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653683200528876825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2793170767412204104.post-18301141726706921152021-04-11T05:45:00.001-06:002021-04-11T05:45:18.132-06:00Nothing Wants to Suffer <img id="id_2e8c_b940_f429_7347" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/DHbKwVmrLxxj-h-2SOnCrHM0kfCcreqw3iLHD6jCkjVKrGxUxGYgekUE8RzK2br8Uq4" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 616px; height: auto; margin: 4px;"><br><br><p style="font-size: 16px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; margin: 10px 0px; padding: 0px; color: rgb(72, 72, 72); font-family: Georgia, Times, "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 42px; caret-color: rgb(72, 72, 72);"><span class="long-line">Nothing wants to suffer. Not the wind </span><br><span class="long-line">as it scrapes itself against the cliff. Not the cliff</span></p><p style="font-size: 16px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; margin: 10px 0px; padding: 0px; color: rgb(72, 72, 72); font-family: Georgia, Times, "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 42px; caret-color: rgb(72, 72, 72);"><span class="long-line">being eaten, slowly, by the sea. The earth does not want</span><br><span class="long-line">to suffer the rough tread of those who do not notice it.</span></p><p style="font-size: 16px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; margin: 10px 0px; padding: 0px; color: rgb(72, 72, 72); font-family: Georgia, Times, "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 42px; caret-color: rgb(72, 72, 72);"><span class="long-line">The trees do not want to suffer the axe, nor see </span><br><span class="long-line">their sisters felled by root rot, mildew, rust. </span></p><p style="font-size: 16px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; margin: 10px 0px; padding: 0px; color: rgb(72, 72, 72); font-family: Georgia, Times, "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 42px; caret-color: rgb(72, 72, 72);"><span class="long-line">The coyote in its den. The puma stalking its prey. </span><br><span class="long-line">These, too, want ease and a tender animal in the mouth </span></p><p style="font-size: 16px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; margin: 10px 0px; padding: 0px; color: rgb(72, 72, 72); font-family: Georgia, Times, "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 42px; caret-color: rgb(72, 72, 72);"><span class="long-line">to take their hunger. An offering, one hopes, </span><br><span class="long-line">made quickly, and without much suffering. </span></p><p style="font-size: 16px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; margin: 10px 0px; padding: 0px; color: rgb(72, 72, 72); font-family: Georgia, Times, "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 42px; caret-color: rgb(72, 72, 72);"><span class="long-line">The chair mourns an angry sitter. The lamp, a scalded moth. </span><br><span class="long-line">A table, the weight of years of argument. </span></p><p style="font-size: 16px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; margin: 10px 0px; padding: 0px; color: rgb(72, 72, 72); font-family: Georgia, Times, "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 42px; caret-color: rgb(72, 72, 72);"><span class="long-line">We know this, though we forget. </span></p><p style="font-size: 16px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; margin: 10px 0px; padding: 0px; color: rgb(72, 72, 72); font-family: Georgia, Times, "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 42px; caret-color: rgb(72, 72, 72);"><span class="long-line">Not the shark nor the tiger, fanged as they are. </span><br><span class="long-line">Nor the worm, content in its windowless world </span></p><p style="font-size: 16px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; margin: 10px 0px; padding: 0px; color: rgb(72, 72, 72); font-family: Georgia, Times, "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 42px; caret-color: rgb(72, 72, 72);"><span class="long-line">of soil and stone. Not the stone, resting in its riverbed. </span><br><span class="long-line">The riverbed, gazing up at the stars. </span></p><p style="font-size: 16px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; margin: 10px 0px; padding: 0px; color: rgb(72, 72, 72); font-family: Georgia, Times, "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 42px; caret-color: rgb(72, 72, 72);"><span class="long-line">Least of all, the stars, ensconced in their canopy, </span><br><span class="long-line">looking down at all of us— their offspring— </span></p><p style="font-size: 16px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; margin: 10px 0px; padding: 0px; color: rgb(72, 72, 72); font-family: Georgia, Times, "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 42px; caret-color: rgb(72, 72, 72);"><span class="long-line">scattered so far beyond reach.</span></p><p style="font-size: 16px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; margin: 10px 0px; padding: 0px; color: rgb(72, 72, 72); font-family: Georgia, Times, "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 42px; caret-color: rgb(72, 72, 72);"><span class="long-line">-</span><span style="caret-color: rgb(113, 113, 113); color: rgb(113, 113, 113); font-size: 28px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">by Danusha Laméris</span></p> Angelina Lloydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653683200528876825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2793170767412204104.post-50178447713248891182021-03-25T19:21:00.007-06:002021-03-25T19:21:58.682-06:00The Reed Flute's Song. By Rumi<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW-2te-N1AiEhL2AOLck5HzZ6VcBqoUq1CdMaN_VTKQput4-2g1lJbayb5sZCWjOt5P7O4DI72kT8nyX-9pwenbZJw8BBXbWFY2_ZKMVOCKNTq5oJ8ydvSB6xFGD7CCuCp5CwA_3tufBZ6/s2048/20210324_123638.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW-2te-N1AiEhL2AOLck5HzZ6VcBqoUq1CdMaN_VTKQput4-2g1lJbayb5sZCWjOt5P7O4DI72kT8nyX-9pwenbZJw8BBXbWFY2_ZKMVOCKNTq5oJ8ydvSB6xFGD7CCuCp5CwA_3tufBZ6/w480-h640/20210324_123638.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><p></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: #555555; font-family: super, serif; font-size: calc(17px + (0.002631578947368421 * (-100px + 100vw))); line-height: 1.65; margin: 0px 0px 30px;">Listen to the story told by the reed,<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />of being separated.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: #555555; font-family: super, serif; font-size: calc(17px + (0.002631578947368421 * (-100px + 100vw))); line-height: 1.65; margin: 0px 0px 30px;">“Since I was cut from the reedbed,<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />I have made this crying sound.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: #555555; font-family: super, serif; font-size: calc(17px + (0.002631578947368421 * (-100px + 100vw))); line-height: 1.65; margin: 0px 0px 30px;">Anyone apart from someone he loves<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />understands what I say.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: #555555; font-family: super, serif; font-size: calc(17px + (0.002631578947368421 * (-100px + 100vw))); line-height: 1.65; margin: 0px 0px 30px;">Anyone pulled from a source<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />longs to go back.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: #555555; font-family: super, serif; font-size: calc(17px + (0.002631578947368421 * (-100px + 100vw))); line-height: 1.65; margin: 0px 0px 30px;">At any gathering I am there,<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />mingling in the laughing and grieving,</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: #555555; font-family: super, serif; font-size: calc(17px + (0.002631578947368421 * (-100px + 100vw))); line-height: 1.65; margin: 0px 0px 30px;">a friend to each, but few<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />will hear the secrets hidden</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: #555555; font-family: super, serif; font-size: calc(17px + (0.002631578947368421 * (-100px + 100vw))); line-height: 1.65; margin: 0px 0px 30px;">within the notes. No ears for that.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Body flowing out of spirit,</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: #555555; font-family: super, serif; font-size: calc(17px + (0.002631578947368421 * (-100px + 100vw))); line-height: 1.65; margin: 0px 0px 30px;">spirit up from body: no concealing<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />that mixing. But it’s not given us</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: #555555; font-family: super, serif; font-size: calc(17px + (0.002631578947368421 * (-100px + 100vw))); line-height: 1.65; margin: 0px 0px 30px;">to see the soul. The reed flute<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />is fire, not wind. Be that empty.”</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: #555555; font-family: super, serif; font-size: calc(17px + (0.002631578947368421 * (-100px + 100vw))); line-height: 1.65; margin: 0px 0px 30px;">Hear the love fire tangled<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />in the reed notes, as bewilderment</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: #555555; font-family: super, serif; font-size: calc(17px + (0.002631578947368421 * (-100px + 100vw))); line-height: 1.65; margin: 0px 0px 30px;">melts into wine. The reed is a friend<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />to all who want the fabric torn</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: #555555; font-family: super, serif; font-size: calc(17px + (0.002631578947368421 * (-100px + 100vw))); line-height: 1.65; margin: 0px 0px 30px;">and drawn away. The reed is hurt<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />and salve combining. Intimacy</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: #555555; font-family: super, serif; font-size: calc(17px + (0.002631578947368421 * (-100px + 100vw))); line-height: 1.65; margin: 0px 0px 30px;">and longing for intimacy, one<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />song. A disastrous surrender</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: #555555; font-family: super, serif; font-size: calc(17px + (0.002631578947368421 * (-100px + 100vw))); line-height: 1.65; margin: 0px 0px 30px;">and a fine love, together. The one<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />who secretly hears this is senseless.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: #555555; font-family: super, serif; font-size: calc(17px + (0.002631578947368421 * (-100px + 100vw))); line-height: 1.65; margin: 0px 0px 30px;">A tongue has one customer, the ear.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />A sugarcane flute has such effect</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: #555555; font-family: super, serif; font-size: calc(17px + (0.002631578947368421 * (-100px + 100vw))); line-height: 1.65; margin: 0px 0px 30px;">because it was able to make sugar<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />in the reedbed. The sound it makes</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: #555555; font-family: super, serif; font-size: calc(17px + (0.002631578947368421 * (-100px + 100vw))); line-height: 1.65; margin: 0px 0px 30px;">is for everyone. Days full of wanting,<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />let them go by without worrying</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: #555555; font-family: super, serif; font-size: calc(17px + (0.002631578947368421 * (-100px + 100vw))); line-height: 1.65; margin: 0px 0px 30px;">that they do. Stay where you are<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />inside such a pure, hollow note.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: #555555; font-family: super, serif; font-size: calc(17px + (0.002631578947368421 * (-100px + 100vw))); line-height: 1.65; margin: 0px 0px 30px;">Every thirst gets satisfied except<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />that of these fish, the mystics,</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: #555555; font-family: super, serif; font-size: calc(17px + (0.002631578947368421 * (-100px + 100vw))); line-height: 1.65; margin: 0px 0px 30px;">who swim a vast ocean of grace<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />still somehow longing for it!</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: #555555; font-family: super, serif; font-size: calc(17px + (0.002631578947368421 * (-100px + 100vw))); line-height: 1.65; margin: 0px 0px 30px;">No one lives in that without<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />being nourished every day.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: #555555; font-family: super, serif; font-size: calc(17px + (0.002631578947368421 * (-100px + 100vw))); line-height: 1.65; margin: 0px 0px 30px;">But if someone doesn’t want to hear<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />the song of the reed flute,</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(85, 85, 85); color: #555555; font-family: super, serif; font-size: calc(17px + (0.002631578947368421 * (-100px + 100vw))); line-height: 1.65; margin: 0px 0px 30px;">it’s best to cut conversation<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />short, say good-bye, and leave.</p>Angelina Lloydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653683200528876825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2793170767412204104.post-68198001289972034902021-03-20T12:29:00.001-06:002021-03-25T19:22:53.482-06:00Distance is an illusion.<img alt="" id="id_a191_e670_ce8c_b59b" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/fE8IGPl0gE4QoiUtZeaM77kvDqWaFmg6pLA50H3Es87yIYs6YU__ZzYd7HCoP5Soyz4" style="height: auto; margin: 4px; width: 616px;" title="" tooltip="" /><br />Distance is an illusion. We stand apart so that we may know each other better.Angelina Lloydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653683200528876825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2793170767412204104.post-47883637860293247732021-03-12T19:08:00.002-07:002021-03-20T09:19:48.027-06:00Shadow Stepping<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQRvjZlm2J8WcPWSZtoXlhy20gstpoJAKe58LpUxywXcglX_sQfhwJ-8apAD2QKEvkLR5P7NXXkdG3W9ntYRLCNXYB0P-JyFqq3qsm2KsGSZhmkSEGNuX5plSy1AR85sex9F1JLzYDRkqR/s2048/self+portrait.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQRvjZlm2J8WcPWSZtoXlhy20gstpoJAKe58LpUxywXcglX_sQfhwJ-8apAD2QKEvkLR5P7NXXkdG3W9ntYRLCNXYB0P-JyFqq3qsm2KsGSZhmkSEGNuX5plSy1AR85sex9F1JLzYDRkqR/w426-h640/self+portrait.jpeg" width="426" id="id_83ee_af18_163f_b83c" style="width: 426px; height: auto;"></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"> <em style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #00284c; font-size: 16px;">“Te tiro atu to kanohi ki tairawhiti ana tera whiti te ra kite ataata ka hinga ki muri kia koe.”</em></span><div><span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 40, 76); font-size: 16px; background-color: white;"> – Maori saying which translates </span><span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 40, 76); font-size: 16px; box-sizing: border-box;"><em style="box-sizing: border-box;">“Turn your face to the sun and the shadows will fall behind you.”</em></span></div>Angelina Lloydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653683200528876825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2793170767412204104.post-36782539735916963222021-03-07T09:19:00.005-07:002021-03-12T19:00:48.633-07:00Dating<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgicaV7PS1M6XH6OInWAc3mMzZRm92TEK7LBi8p-X31zBfn05OAQjHWsN2BejGYtrjrSfjTAt7Zc2Pf6fVtFb_bfSM7RiKKPbojzUnDTdpmkOaLrJrqP-04FnAYhMAinEcq48ID6_5GtNDH/s4032/IMG_8990.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgicaV7PS1M6XH6OInWAc3mMzZRm92TEK7LBi8p-X31zBfn05OAQjHWsN2BejGYtrjrSfjTAt7Zc2Pf6fVtFb_bfSM7RiKKPbojzUnDTdpmkOaLrJrqP-04FnAYhMAinEcq48ID6_5GtNDH/w640-h480/IMG_8990.HEIC" width="640" /></a></div><br />A month ago Bodhi came into the kitchen with my phone in hand and said, "Listen Mom, I want to put you on a dating app." I balked. He countered, "Just listen a minute, with Owen gone and me growing up you just don't have much connection anymore. You deserve to be loved mom. We don't want you to be alone." <p></p><p>I hugged him and took my phone, on which he'd already downloaded some app called Hinge. I deleted it. He asked me to think about it. I did. I even tried eHarmony for a few weeks. I went on a few masked and distanced dates. </p><p>Here's what I learned: I DO NOT LIKE DATING APPS. </p><p>I probably don't much like dating. I don't like cocktail parties either. I'm easily overwhelmed by human maneuverings and terrible at small talk. I am also not an easy chemistry or person to match. I feel life fully and don't consider that a weakness. After years of relationship mishaps, I am only interested in dating someone with a secure attachment style who isn't looking for ideals but is willing to walk through life, hand in hand. come what may. </p><p>I deleted the account. </p><p>I cried. </p><p>And decided to take the advice I have always given other people:"Keep your eyes up and heart open." Love will have to show up in my life, old school, but I appreciate my teenagers loving observation. </p><p>We could all use more connection these days.</p>Angelina Lloydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653683200528876825noreply@blogger.com0