The Art Of
I have been a soldier
muddy, half-starved, freezing
longing to go home
I was once a dancer
a beautiful woman, I suppose,
maybe an ugly one too?
I’ve been both a prisoner
and a jailer
and learned they’re mostly
the same, and that power and
opportunism and desperation
play too heavily on the human psyche,
that we are not to be trusted
under the sway of their influence
I’ve lived through most labels
and descriptions and jobs
and through these identities
I’ve preferred those that
were simple, unassuming,
and generous
I’ve earned a little money
and lost a lot of it
fallen into love and out
have broken hearts
and had my own broken
both are agonizing
both impossible to avoid
I sunk so deep into violence once
that it taught me
how to be tender,
how to make my touch
caring and safe
I’ve felt the outer limits
of the brain
and there, where the mind stops,
convulsing,
foaming at the mouth,
vision going black,
pressed against the far reaches
of what cognition can do,
I felt grateful for my little brain
while learning that
it is not built for understanding.
I have been born and born and born
and I have died and died and died
and, still, I cannot fathom the scope
nor purpose
of life’s curriculum
But there have been a few teachings
that I have felt, as life has poured
through me,
worth keeping:
Do not fetishize your wounds
they are not unique
and are far too interested in themselves
Do not idolize grief
recognize it, name it, let it be your friend,
feed it and tend to it when you must
but do not worship grief
or give it a home in your temple
it can become a vain and depraved God
Do not reject suffering
by turning away from it
suffering is diminished
when we have the courage
to look right at it
Do not let love be so precious
that you cannot lose it
Do not try to fix, do not try to change
do not try to manipulate,
do not empower your preferences
do not act from a righteous place
You will slip up on this,
we all slip up on this,
humility is the way back to centeredness
Do not give the horror so much power
that it consumes you
as it can, and will, consume you
Do not believe too much in your humanity
but do not give it all away
do not believe too much in your self
but do not become too interested
in rejecting your self either
Tribes and groups and cultures
religions and creeds and icons
are all temporary
if we are lucky, and diligent,
we will—someday—
expand beyond our need of them.
The art of living is in the All,
in the obliteration of this-or-that,
us-or-them, me-and-other-than-me;
the art of living is in becoming Whole
and relating to Wholeness.
The art of loving in is freeing
not possessing
The art of feeling
and seeing
and experiencing
is in allowance and recognition
The art of cognition
is in knowing the limitations
of cognition
The art of consciousness
is the art of Wonder,
Awareness,
and Awe.
All one.
All one.
All one.
Awe.
Awe.
Awe.
Feb 9
Feb 9, 2026 at 3:35 PM UTC
Considering hostility
I feel violent.
Considering wonder
I am awed.
I heard a French widow
say that there is
someone in each of us
who loves
and someone in each of us
who kills.
Sep 26, 2024
Sep 26, 2024 at 11:38 AM UTC
Forget our sterile strains of green,
soft, choking lawn.
Forget our fertilizers, chemicals,
and killers.
Let our families relearn to walk
with nothing between the Earth
and their bare feet.
Let us remember the native seed.
Sep 1, 2024
Sep 1, 2024 at 5:48 PM UTC
How many have died
trying to protect their lives
from the terrible weight
of a lie
whose truth
they felt could never
be spoken?
Jul 5, 2024
Jul 5, 2024 at 5:57 PM UTC
Lit this slash pile one week ago,
a small pile as far as slashing and burning goes
Since then it’s melted,
rained, and snowed
Unusual and erratic behavior for January
and February in this country
Country that the Salish would’ve known
to move out of before winter set in.
Shouldn’t be anything other
than frozen and buried in snow
but nothing acts now in the way
it used to, and no one can predict
what’s coming, yet we keep reporting
our guesswork like we know something,
still playing make-believe with our
ideas about control, specifically about
how we’d like to be in it—
maybe because we like the idea of
stability so much and wish we had it
despite our tireless irony.
And here is this little steam-pot,
this natural wonder of vitality and perseverance,
issuing one more quiet reminder
of how little we know of our actions
or the cycles they’ve started.
Feb 6, 2024
Feb 6, 2024 at 1:14 PM UTC
Jar lids pop
snow sheets slide
pitch pockets snap
water kettle groans
First light exposes
crystalline canvases
against frozen glass
the stove’s heat
melts them away
like ice Mandalas
All that is beautiful
is impermanent.
All that is unique
lives only once.
Jan 27, 2024
Jan 27, 2024 at 2:15 PM UTC
There's a sense in which
I could be anywhere—
everywhere is the same
as here.
Oct 26, 2023
Oct 26, 2023 at 10:38 AM UTC
Ghosts dance around me
and I am stepping on their toes
they curse me as I walk backwards
tracing old footprints
wishing them to come back into color,
that a familiar hand
and a smile I remember
might reach back out and ask
if I can keep a secret—
if I’d like to dance with them again?
Aug 30, 2023
Aug 30, 2023 at 8:35 PM UTC
Here is an exercise
to help you learn a little bit
more about where we are
and what acts on us:
Pour yourself a bath,
as luxurious as can be.
Put in the salts, the oils,
the fragrances, the bubbles…
Make sure you pour
it hot, as hot as you can
handle when you dip in that
first cautious toe…
Slide in up to your chin and
soak in quietude while
your muscles untie their knots
and you lose yourself to that dreary
form of half-awake relaxation.
After a time, your tranquil state
will become a quiet form
of discomfort. The body
will begin to simulate a rising fever
as your temperature moves upward
towards equilibrium with the water,
the stomach will start to feel
unsettled and you
will have had enough.
Now, here comes the test:
Remove the drain plug and
remain motionless, unresponsive,
as the water slurps down
around you.
Your body will fall
as the water drains,
folding and bending
gravity packing you down
molding you into cast of the
tub you are laying in.
When the water is fully
drained and your rubbery,
warm muscles are stripped
of their recent buoyant freedoms,
you will feel with full awareness
the immensity of that Universal force
that acts on us without rest.
It’s amazing that we aren’t
all in exceptional shape.
Oct 9, 2022
Oct 9, 2022 at 5:41 PM UTC
Dear lost brother,
when did you forget
we drink from the same cup?
May 3, 2022
May 3, 2022 at 10:25 PM UTC