your place in the family
enough space to feel real
Dear readers,
I enter the new year, this fresh landscape following Mardi Gras, listening to the soft animal of my body (and the fierce animal, and the brave animal, and the needy animal, on and on)... I was swept into a short but intense surge of Carnival then took myself to Mexico, unplugging from my routine in order to hear myself again.
I remember being changed by Mary Oliver's words when first reading them years ago, and suspect that many of you have seen this poem once or a dozen times. That possibility will not stop me from sharing it- because transformational texts deserve to be re-visited, their words seen with new eyes and hearts, fresh wisdom found.
So, here is "Wild Geese":
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
I want to know what you feel after reading it. Perhaps you take a breath, write down some sensations, share them in a comment. Let's pause together.
. . .
And here I am, the animal of my body warm and yearning, feeling everything. When any grief arrives it envelops me in waves and I make no effort to control the surge. I can survive the dive and return because I know my place in the family of things: a small seeker, a child, a dreamer, a lion- and I know my place inside of my body, the home I have built here, safety cultivated in an unsafe world.
I do not have to repent, but I will, because it turns me away from distraction into what is real, then I turn again, and again. The dance of repentance becomes joyful. I'm human, and I'm changing in collaboration with the divine. Something is lost and something is found. The love becomes grief which becomes love again. From earth I came and to earth I will return, a tiny death each day.
I've created a spell here, a circle. It's empty and infinite, ready to be filled with my imagination. Can you hear the geese, calling?
Upcoming events and activities:
The March discussion series will center around grief. Let's strip away any excess to find the sadness that drives us forward, that draws us closer to Love. We meet this month 3/7, 3/14, and 3/21 from 6-7:15pm in the chapel to the left of the main First Grace UMC building on Canal and Norman C Francis Pkwy.
Dance It! is still Mondays 7-8:30 at the Broadmoor Arts & Wellness Center. Free authentic movement for all people, come as you are.
This Wednesday 3/8 at 6pm is Communion: a MidCity Meal for Everyone. We will gather for a meal in the Fellowship Hall at First Grace. Help is always welcome or you can just come and eat. This time we're making chicken stir-fry, fried rice, baked tofu, garlic green beans, dessert tbd. YUM.
I'm putting my spring schedule together soon. Would you like to join me for restorative yoga? Write and let me know! I want to provide class if there are needs and desires for it. Also, Byrdie's Pottery is re-opening soon and I will be teaching two classes a week. Stay tuned here or get on the Byrdie's mailing list to be notified when we post our class schedule.
The world goes on, while we feel it all-
May you know what it is to be held
rey hope (they/them)
I felt comforted about those words. Like witnessing someone's peaceful sleep.