Blossom

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I used to write poetry.
Back when my life was more dream-like,
And the only way to capture the essence of my learning was with a poem.

And then at some point my feet rooted firmly into the ground,
And the world lost a bit of its shimmer.

But its hard not to see it in the springtime,
And as the cherry trees blossom and the sweet smell of poplar leaves wafts through the air,
I’m beginning to see the shimmer in my day-to-day again.

I’m beginning to search for the magic,
To remember the magic.

Because life isn’t dull at all actually,
It only becomes dull from time to time when a set of eyes get weary and learn to miss the magic.

The Breath of the New Year

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The new year invites us to ask,
Where are we going?
Where are coming from?

And this year,
As I stood on that bridge in between the new year and the old
I cast a glance over my shoulder
And looked back.

Tears streamed down my face

So much has happened
So much has changed

It was a year of falling down and getting up again
Looking at mountains that seemed too big to ever climb
And trying

It was a year of running into other people
Of getting mad
Or getting hurt

And then trying to make things better
Trying to make things work

Trying to figure things out.

And as I look back I see sometimes they did work
And that I did make it part way up that insurmountable climb

Even though I fell trying
More than once

To celebrate the New Year I danced
And for me this dance became a statement

I am here
I want to be here

Even though I fall down
I want to be here

And as I look back
I gather the precious treasures from the year
And the gems I find are subtle shifts in my body and voice

Clarity in sound
More integrity in my spine

They say,
I am here
I want to be here.

subtle shifts.
hard to see.

They change everything.

Art

Mountains


Art is beauty for more than the sake of itself
When the form and the essence marry
And truth becomes visible

Art depends as much on the audience as the artist
Words can be lost
Symmetry unseen

Harmony can be felt
Hearts can be opened
There can be Rhythm

It takes two to tango.

So look up as you walk down the street
Where is the color? Where is the light?

The bright eyes of a child
Small birds chattering in city shrubs
Music drifting out of a basement window
The mountains in the distance

Pause.

All art needs is an audience.

December

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I make my home in the mountains

 

And as autumn falls into winter
I have to use my flashlight to get to dinner

Every evening I walk past the great cedars
Over the bridge
Through the sound of the rushing creek
In the dark.

And last year at this time
As the nights got longer
And the days darker
I felt a lump in my throat begin to form

And I thought about vitamin D pills
And S.A.D. lamps
And Mexico

Something.  Anything.

Make it better.

But this year is different.

This year I am able to see the beauty of the stars that watch over my evening meal
And feel the joy of crawling into bed at 6:30 pm to read my book.

All I want to do is retreat.

Hibernate.

I am no longer trying to combat the flow of seasons
I am tuning into nature
And riding her waves.

And as I crawl into the cave of my heart to rest for the winter
I am grateful for this blanket of snow and this blanket of darkness that has come
To protect me.

Until it’s time to emerge and blossom.

Summoned by the Light.

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Burn Pile

Bhajans and burning grudges,
Sacred dance
In the woods
In the dark.

As the crowd fell away the music took off.
Using harmony and sounds.

Stripping the songs bare and then building them back up.
Taking each song to its edges but keeping the essence.
And somehow at the same time finding the essence.

The fire dances,
The trees stand tall,
The last song fades into the night,
And there is stillness.

A Different Kind of Love Poem

July 21, 2011

I love you.

And I’m not talking about that head-over-heels, butterflies in my stomach kind of love.
I’m not talking about the kind of love you see in the movies.

My love is based in action.

When I say that I love you I am promising to treat you with respect,
I am promising to be honest,
With you and myself.
I am saying that I care for you and will give you my love freely and openly.

My love is not blind,
It sees your beauty.

My love is grateful for all of the gifts that you bring to this world.

And my love is not a one way street,
When I say that I love and you and that I am promising to treat you with respect and honesty and care,
I am also promising to open to receive your respect, your honesty, your care.

I am opening to receive your love.

You see – this is not that “can’t eat, can’t sleep” kind of love.
With this love we share beautiful meals and sleep deeply at night.

In this love we love not only each other but also ourselves.

But don’t get me wrong – this kind of love is not always easy.
I’m not talking about that “happily-ever-after” kind of love either.

No – this love is full of challenges.
In this love we open ourselves up and become vulnerable.

No, this love is not always easy,
But it is always beautiful.

This love is real.
It’s far from perfect,
It’s full of laughter,
It’s full of tears,
And lessons that come out of nowhere.

And sometimes we still sit, giggling,
Watching some ridiculous romantic comedy where Julia Roberts finds the man of her dreams…

But you know,
That I’m talking about something very different,
When I say,

I love you.

A New Beginning

Today marks a new beginning.  I am just past the half-way mark of my time at Yasodhara Ashram.  I have lived here for a year and as of November 1st I have less then a year less than a year left of my current commitment.  As I pass this half way point I am beginning to take stock, and look at what I’ve learned.

One thing I have learned a lot about is the power of reflection – most recently through working on my Book Report project.  In this project, I see what amazing things can happen when I write and share my ideals, goals, challenges and victories.  I commit to them in a more powerful way  and they become more real.

One day – when I was trying to fit all of my insights into one book report to imbue them with this amazing power that I have experienced book reports to have – I realized, ‘This must not be the only way.’  And I don’t want it to be the only way!  I only have so many book reports left, I don’t want to lose this power when they’re all completed.  So I asked myself – what is the essence of a book report?  Where is does this power come from?

I saw three main components.  One – Writing down my ideals, goals and what I am learning.  Two – Refinement: editing and really clarifying what I want to express.  And Three – Sharing these refined insights.

And so my new beginning is a blog – a place where I can share what I am learning and tap into the mystical power of writing, refining and sharing.

Welcome!  In this past year I have also learned an amazing amount from listening to others tell their stories.  My hope is as I learn and grow through writing that those who read about my experiences can learn something from them too.

And an especially warm welcome to friends and family.  My other hope for this blog is for it to be a way of sharing my experiences with those who I care  deeply about but who live far away.  I have begun to post some poems and stories I have written this year which capture my experience and what I have learned – so feel free to explore!

This is my first step on a new journey – my very first post! And it is my first victory on a new adventure…

Om Namah Sivaya!

Bryn