good deeds

good deeds

A remote tribe in the southern part of Africa was discovered to employ a unique tactic for righting a wrong:

When a person acts irresponsibly or unjustly, he is placed in the center of the village, alone and unfettered. All work ceases, while every man, woman, and child in the village gathers in a large circle around the accused individual.

Then, one at a time, each person in the tribe steps in front of the accused and recalls a positive deed the person in the circle has done in his lifetime. All of his positive attributes, good deeds, strengths, and kindnesses are recited carefully and at length. This ceremony can last for several days.

At the end, the circle is broken, a joyous celebration takes place, and the person is welcomed back into the good graces of the tribe.

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Light

a month since

Liza Fernandez

A month since my birthday.
The birth of this body, this time, this heart, this mind.
A time to celebrate.
A time to reflect.
A time for silliness.

Fingers, toes, legs, arms, all in place.
Skin taut and elastic (for now).
Heart wide open.
Mind even more expansive than yesterday.
Curiosity killed the cat, not quite yet.

Here’s to failing.
And failing again.
And failing one more time.

Here’s to celebrating.
And cheering.
And doing the Dance of Joy right now, this moment.
Now this.

Here’s to tears of all sorts.
To breakdowns and breaks in general.
Here’s to light and shadows and how they pirouette before us all.
Here’s to stillness.

I am grateful to be alive.
I am honored to be living during this time.
I am embracing the year ahead with playfulness.
Let’s play.

Liza Fernandez

holding

holding

I hold a cup of black tea in a Starbucks vintage mug; the tea is not their’s and tastes way better. There’s a chip on the cup. I should dispose of it but I chose not to.

I’m feeling a joyful glee in my heart cuz my partner returns home tomorrow. How four weeks has fast forward and slowed down all at once. I recall his warm soft lips and how they just fit mine.

I sit still as the sun beams down on my skin. It’s warm with a cool breeze reminding us winter is around the corner. The critical mind tells me to pull away (wrinkles, remember), but I don’t. Fly kisses from the sun reach the smile spreading across my cheeks.

I’m wondering if this is what they mean by “bliss”. This moment. On my own.
That hop-skip-and-a-jump feeling, that “skip to my lou my darling” pep to the step.
I try not to choke it; surrendering is a joy ride.

I sip.
Eyes closed.
Fly kisses to the sun and back.
Smiling.

what will you see?

I haven’t seen you in 15 years.
To think. I bet you look exactly the same.
I find myself slipping back into a daughter role, aching for her father’s attention and approval.

Oh, approval.
God, I wish I was… I was… so much more.
I want to impress you.
To be a statue, shining its significance into your daily brain.
Like a quality stamp not worth much but in a book.
Permanent (which nothing is), all powerful (we all know everything has cracks).

What will you see?
What will you say of me?
What will you want from me?
How will I be?

what do you see?

I feel shame.
Weird, why the fuck shame?
Shame and guilt?
If only I could be something more.
Socially powerful. Socially revered.

What will you see?
What will you say of me?
What will you want from me?
How will I be?

Stupid. He knows this takes time.
Well, not for her and him and her and him?
Things came nimbly, things came quick.
Stop it.
He gets it.

What will you see?
What will you say of me?
What will you want from me?
How will I be?

 

best time is Now

This Chinese Proverb runs deep and addresses any walk of life.
We are all guilty of saying, “I’m too old/young/inexperienced/it’s too late, etc.
But guess what? It takes guts to follow your dreams and give it a try.
Fail, and then fail better.  #WednesdayWisdom

Chinese Proverb

tomorrow

Waiting...

An ache.
A pain so sharp, it cuts.
Senses are lost in a fog, come back soon.
And there’s a void.
A real one.
Why did he have to go?

Heart beats heavy sighs and legs demand a slower pace.
It takes a million years for arms to move this way and that.
Three weeks is a very long time..
Huge.
Ginormous.
And yet, benign.

I think of those who’ve passed.
Like the pictures of Ron Heren, taped to the fatal pole, the one that ended his life.
A corner where Jackie and I must wait for the lights to change.
Death.
Leaving your loved one is like a death.
And yet, so benign.

Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say goodnight till it be morrow.

Be tomorrow now.
Fast forward to the race’s end.
Change the lights quick.
Bring back comfort, my pillows and blankets.
Speed this time forward like a jet plane.