I carve this for you

I carve this for you

Monday afternoon in bed.
The sound of lawn being mowed in the distance
The sound of a plane zooming by
Planes make me think of my father
And how time stands still when you look up
The clouds, the moon, butterflies, how light dances for us…

My mind races
I want to do so many things
The list can feel debilitating
And then my dog weighs his head on my lap
His nose prevents me from typing.
Stop, he gently suggests.

Ok
I am making space for you, my dear old friend
Nature, Grace, Divinity.
I am carving it out.
Making space for you to guide me forward, what to do next.
The creative burst that’ll poke its head from around the corner, wooing me to –
Come this way.

Continue reading “I carve this for you”

stay awake!

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Hey there, 6am
Your atmospheric yawn,
changing the backdrop of cobalt blues
to oranges, reds, and flaming yellows as our glorious sun wakes.
Oh, auspicious time
Celestial by nature
Hello.

Your possibilities are endless
Transformational
Miracles of the street-level kind
Oh, 6am masters,
I welcome you.

Here is the gift of another day
An invitation to witness the subtle, the marvelous
Oh, vulnerable eyes, stay awake!
Glorious mind, don’t lose sight.
So precautious in these challenging times
Mind, you are Distraction’s favorite feast;
Like a royal elephant,
that loses itself at the sight of a rodent,
don’t be swayed, old friend,
remember your strength.

Stay awake
All day
The jungle is thick and relentless
Remember this here, the sweetness of 6am.

sometimes it’s a saturday night

sometimes it's a saturday night

Sometimes it’s Saturday night.

To take that long hot shower.
To shave those legs.
To soak the hair in some strength-inducing formula.
To put that face mask on.

Sometimes it’s a Saturday night.

To drink chaga mushroom tea.
To take a luxurious walk with the dog with no destination or clock ticking.
To have soft 90s music soothing in the background.
To steam up some bone broth.

Sometimes it’s a Saturday night.

To give yourself the luxury of space…
To think, to reflect, to process, to dream.
Oh, what’s to be next!
Wait, savor this moment.

Sometimes it’s a Saturday night.

And suddenly, 10:30pm feels like 1am.
Where does the time go?!
The overwhelm of being alone
Swiftly turns to holding on to this me-time for dear life.

December Supermoon

December Supermoon

I usually focus on new moons but today’s full moon is extra special.

The December Full Moon is often referred to as the Full Cold Moon or Moon of the Long Nights Moon. The Zuni Indians referred to this time of the year as “sun has traveled home to rest”. Today’s Full Moon is extra big and bright as it is the last SUPERMOON of 2017. A Supermoon is when the Full Moon happens at the same time as the Moon’s perigee (moon’s closest position to earth in the moons orbit) This combination results in the Moon being a bit bigger and brighter than other times.

Ok, Supermoon, here goes:

I let go of staying small.

I let go of excuses.

I let go of insignificance.

I cultivate taking up room. 

I cultivate celebrating my super powers.

I cultivate abundance, like a boss. 

Your turn.
Liza Fernandez

full day’s rest

full day's rest

Full day’s rest.

That’s what I yearn for; sleeping in, steaming soup, away from email.
Oh, don’t you worry, I hear ya.
I’ll give it to you.
You won’t be ignored.

Full day’s rest.

I want rich dreams
With puffy pillows and cuddle-monster chats, and less of this.
I want fiction and other galactic worlds, and Once upon a time’s…
Bones, don’t start to ache.
Wait it out –
’til next week, too much is at stake this weekend.

Full day’s rest.

Close your eyes more often.
Slow down; remember, “in a million years”
You can do it! I believe in you.
Snail’s pace / Nature’s race.

Hot shower.
Brush your teeth.
Shut the laptop.
Lights out.

November Beaver Moon

november beaver moon

November’s full Moon was called the Beaver Moon by both the colonists and the Algonquin tribes because this was the time to set beaver traps before the swamps froze, to ensure a supply of warm winter furs.

Ok, here goes:

I let go of fatty waste. 

I let go of stagnant voices.

I let go of emotional traps.

I cultivate smart hibernation.

I cultivate bone-broth-for-the-soul love.

I cultivate this moment, right now.  

Your turn.
Liza Fernandez

there are no words

National Day of Prison

In honor of The National Day of Prison:

Prison Letter
M. A. Jones

You ask what it’s like here
but there are no words for it.
I answer difficult, painful, that men
die hearing their own voices. That answer
isn’t right though and I tell you now
that prison is a room
where a man waits with his nerves
drawn tight as barbed wire, an afternoon
that continues for months, that rises
around his legs like water
until the man is insane
and thinks the afternoon is a lake:
blue water, whitecaps, an island
where he lies under pale sunlight, one
red gardenia growing from his hand —

But that’s not right either. There are no
flowers in these cells, no water
and I hold nothing in my hands
but fear, what lives
in the absence of light, emptying
from my body to fill the large darkness
rising like water up my legs:

It rises and there are no words for it
though I look for them, and turn
on light and watch it
fall like an open yellow shirt
over black water, the light holding
against the dark for just
an instant: against what trembles
in my throat, a particular fear
a word I have no words for.

___
1982, Arizona State Prison-Perryville
Buckeye, Arizona