I request they bag lightly, and they so sweetly do, that I am surprised when I feel the weight of chicken breasts in a bag, of grapes and bread in another, of a carton of milk.
Part of me is frustrated that I can't easily and luxuriously fill my refrigerator, and another part knows the blessing of feeling and observing weight, movement, and curve. I can raise my face to Charlotte Selver, my teacher of Sensory Awareness, and answer truly that I am "all there for it."
Jane and I continued our 30 minute free-write this morning, and we are noticing that we each seem to be on the same theme when we speak to conclude. Today we are both aware of time.
I give you her poem of this morning first. This is by Jane Flint.
In the middle years
days formed themselves.
Morning turned to evening without
separation
waking breakfast school work dinner homework bed again
the whirl defining edges, self, and other.
Now time opens wide
the brain a cup that overflows
bits and pieces
of day, of memory,
dreams,
float like place untied from space
a boat unruddered drifting toward the
straight horizon line where courage will
allow the letting go.
For now I
sweep the garden in the dawn
coffee, cream two sugars
his head behind the paper
your morning call
the pen, the keys, the weather
anchors in a world opened on its hinges
your humming keeness, your steadiness
the threads that hold me
thin as silk,
to this weightless moment.
And I offer my morning poems too. I feel so light in time.
“little pieces of consistency”
I rise and open
the curtains, the blinds,
see the light
enter
from a source,
begun,
like lung,
long ago.
I begin to string
the breath
with limerick
and song.
The dance
lets go.
I’m swung
on feeling
my head
touch my toes,
and lifting light a little higher,
like rainbows,
I glow.
Healing
this morning
I am the sun
shining through rain
forming prisms
to rake through my hands
and plant
in my organs and glands.
sharing our bath in time
this morning I luxuriate in time
no hurry or rush
only a tapping
to silently frame
the rushing love
of my heart,
as it pumps the sea,
in and out
and through
to you
from me -
bubbling,
the bath is sweet,
harboring the parts
that meet
when peace
is the harvest
we aim
with love, care, and gratitude,
joy to all of You!