Living Slow, Thinking Fast

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Today was a day of living slow
yet thinking fast, all of which
is to say that life unfolded
only in my head
with little to no direct contact,
noticing, or taking it in.

I didn’t see the pink bougainvilleas
with their glorious and bright petals,
singing as they drifted to the ground,
pulling me into their gravity.
Until I realized all of a sudden
that one day all of this,
the fallen petals and me, us, these four walls,
my neighbors up the road,
these verdant hills and gravel paths,
these scribbled poems and worn books,
these fries dipped in ranch,
and midnight snacks of yoghurt and granola,
all of it would be gone one day.
Who knew when, but gone one day,
like rain falling in reverse.

Not a trace of what lifts us up and what bleeds,
all so real in this moment,
will remain.
And for a second I felt afraid in that knowing,
small and insignificant in the heart,
until the next second,
when I felt free, wings outstretched.
With so many endings awaiting,
why not attend to all the beginnings,
and what unfolds in between?

Why not lean into the mistakes and failures
and taste the possibilities of who we could be?
Why not seek the moments that are
as still as they are loud,
as wide as they are deep,
and rest there in that knowing?
Why not expand, letting it in,
and letting it out,
filling this space that is as real as anything else,
right now, for now, and perhaps
forever?

Mindful Mondays

  • 41

    As I enter into my 41st year, I felt a sudden desire to return here to my blog and write.  It has been awhile.  I have shared poems and other words on social media, and a few here as well.  But, it has been some time since I have sat down to reflect, write out

  • Hold On

    For you whose light has been dimmed in an already dark world— For you whose voice has been muted in a loud screaming world— For you who feels lost in a world full of mirrors— Breathe. When every warm body is out of reach, you have the power to hold your own heart with a

  • Waking Up

    Holding hands in the dark, the wash of moonlight spilling onto the sheets. A kiss on my cheek and a hug that lingers long enough to feel the solid warmth of skin and bone. The breath of a sunset sky, and the heat of thunder and lightning pouring cleansing waters from above. A singular burgundy