My heart, a watering hole
“They both listened silently to the water, which to
them was not just water, but the voice of life, the voice of Being, the voice
of perpetual Becoming.”
~Hermen Hesse, Siddhartha
I. Recognizing Desertification
In a loud room
Full of buzzing voices, gaming shouts, and gales of giggles
Slow down.
Find the silence
Focus inward.
You are the only one who knows
What opening feels like
And closing down.
You cannot define that for another.
I can see him
In the red/black blue/black
Backdrop
Behind my eyes
He is walking beside me
Encased in his memory
His shields are up thick and high
Warning me to keep my guard up
Which I will not do
I’ve spent my life learning
How to remain open
And now I see
The key has been here all
along
It’s a matter of me loving me
More than anyone else can ever harm me
Look in my own eyes
Revel in my own beauty,
love,
tenderness
I cannot have expectations for you
Set your goals
Choose your path
I cannot open your heart.
I can, however, find ways to show kindness
I can find ways to be a source of comfort,
Joy, laughter, companionship
I can be with you on your journey, if you let me
Because I’m learning to be with myself
On mine
II. Saving the rain water
What happens inside me is
Like a black and white movie
Fed and refed, to play on an endless loop
A little girl wonders where the arms have gone
The ones that were meant to embrace her
A young woman does not believe the mirror
But the words of friends and family condemning her moment of confidence
I want to be told I am beautiful
Over and over
I want to be seen.
I want someone outside myself
To look at me dressed
In a ball gown
In a Tardis dress
In jeans and a too
big T-shirt
In a garter belt
and thigh high stockings
And be stunned
By the light they see in me
I want to be the first person thought of
When there is anger
Or sorrow
Loneliness
Laughter.
Or one of the first.
What if no one outside of you can ever
Comfort you?
What if the deepest tender parts of you
Are burnt beyond ever believing again?
Even if I don’t believe those things are true
If you believe it, they
become the truth
So I focus inward again
Recalling that the culling
Of your fear demons
Is not my job
I have my own tigers to tame
Wounds to lick, muscles to build, trees to plant
I remember I, alone, am the star in this looping movie
III. Transformation
In art, the complimentary colors
Are the ones opposite each other
On the color wheel
The ones you might not, initially, pair
In science, opposite poles
Attract- electron to proton
Creating static electricity
The pouring stroke of lightning fire cracking apart the universe
For one small, sensual second
Buddhism teaches that without the absolute
The relative may devolve into pity, sentimentality
Without the relative, the absolute
May melt to nihilism and a lack of desire to engage
It is possible to love without clenching
In fact, isn’t that how love should really work?
To hold loosely, leaving all the locks off
Unlatch the gate
Unclip the restraints
Step into the breeze, together
There is so much to explore!
Both inside and out.
Every adventure story expands
With someone to share it, water it,
Tend to its needs.
Why not go one step further? From surviving
To thriving?
Turn a desert into a green and growing haven.
Build rainwater roofs
Composting toilets and find alternative fuels
That leave the trees
Alone.
When you like a flower, you pluck it
And when you love it? The Buddha says
When you love it,
You water it daily.
Someday, I’ll have a whole
Flower garden.
Let’s listen to hear
Where the water will come from.
