Feet on the floor

One of those days.

Some days require

Feet flat on the floor

Anchoring the body

Like my yoga lesson

On the four points

Of each foot.

Some days require

Attention to where exactly

I place each foot

One in front of the other

Even if it means

Holding onto the railing

Or even

Both railings.

Some days require

A different sort of anchor.

Today is one of

Those days.

Tomorrow may be

As well.

Today I practice

Feet flat on the floor

Four points on each foot.

Vocation haiku

We get stuck on the word vocation. We all have one at least. All vocation, all vocations, arise from community. All vocations are holy, wholly lived in community. Sometimes it is a community of two, often more. We are all helping one another discern vocation all the time. Sometimes we see it.

Vocation: we all

Have one at least but really

Several… if we look.

Routines

We all have routines

Even the kitten

Has routines.

She does acrobatics

On the spinny desk chair,

Launches herself

To the coffee table,

Slides through the magazines.

She always gets the last lick

Of the yogurt container.

The older cat

Does not care

For yogurt.

He shares the end

Of the cereal bowl

With the kitten.

Soon they both

Will be sound asleep

After an extensive bath.

Soon

I will go to the dentist

For a teeth cleaning.

We all have routines.

Tidy

More kitten.

Now we can never find

The last pen

We used.

Now we find

Stray singular socks

Throughout the house.

The kitten has taken

To catch and release.

She has located

The loose grout

In the kitchen tile floor

And loosened it

Even more.

The kitten has un-tidied

Anything

That once was tidy

Anything we once thought

Was tidy.

Surprise

She says

Surprise.

Every household

Might be well-imbued

By the animated presence

Of a kitten

Un-tidying the perception

Of a neat and tidy world.

Every one of us is a saint

More on the icons. More on you. More on me. More on us.

Every one of us

Is a saint

Broken

Discarded

Maybe

Perhaps

We have been treated

As leftover wood

Until even one person arrives

Sees the gold

Even the possibility

Of gold

Within us

Writes our life

On wood

In gold

Perhaps a dragon

Under our feet,

Sword in hand

Kindly victory

In our eyes

Yes

Everyone is a saint

Every one of us

A reclaimed piece of wood

Perhaps reclaimed

Again and again.

Every one of us.

The woman works in wood

The exhibit at church (St. Mark's, Glen Ellyn) offers Sacred Icons by Mother Magdalena until Advent. They are stunning. Simply stunning. Every day when I walk in to church I choose an icon to spend time with. Then the day continues as it has begun.

The woman works in wood

Discarded wood

Thrown away

Odd old pieces.

They carry with them

Pictures

Of holy people

Pictures already there

To be drawn out

Noticed and written

Edged in gold

Stamped in silver

The woman works in wood

There are saints contained

In the wood

They must be written

So more will see.

Milk ring

Another in the kitten series. 

I wonder if milk rings have another name. I wonder if they could be marketed as cat toys, perhaps sold in containers of six or twelve. I wonder when kittens outgrow milk rings. The grandfather cat used to store his milk rings in his food dish. Perhaps they are always useful, somehow, for something.

For want of a milk ring

The kitten finds more things

To climb,

More things

To push to the floor

The grandfather cat

To annoy

Once again

.

A new milk ring

Is a thing of joy,

A thing be carried and thrown

In the air,

To be rolled on

And rediscovered

To be taken up

Again and again

To hide in shoes

And find.

A question

A haiku before therapy.

Why is it

The celebrations disappear

While the crud sticks around?

It all takes practice

I used to think practicing was attached to things like musical instruments. Then I saw that any time we notice any change needs to be made, it will take practice, sometimes loads of practice... too.

I tell my clients

As I tell myself…it all,

All change… takes practice

Benched

While I know this is all part of the human condition, that sometimes we find ourselves benched, on the sidelines, it can be difficult not to figure winners and losers.

These days

I never know

When I’ll find myself

Benched

With some other person,

Waiting for my beloved,

To go through the checkout line.

On such days

As this,

Even beautiful

Cool and sunny,

I may find myself

With another woman,

Waiting for her person

To go through the checkout line.

Sometimes I leave

Before she does,

Sometimes

She’s the winner.

I know we’ve both won

Already

Just sometimes it feels

Otherwise.

Embodiment

For Martha, and me, and Renee and oh, probably everyone.

We are meant

To be connected

Within ourselves,

With one another

And yes

Of Course

With God.

Yesterday was all about

The Whole thing

The Whole Embodied Thing,

And connection.

Everywhere I looked yesterday

Clients

Of course

But also

The woman in the Starbucks parking lot

She fell

Two cups of coffee in hand,

One with Mom written

On the cup.

We got her to sit

In a chair outside,

Clouds piled up

In the distance

The police were called

She disappeared

Simply disappeared

Into the wind and rain

This reminder of connection

Now without

Those two cups of coffee.

I hope she found Mom.

I hope we all find Mom

Whichever Mom we need to find

We embodied souls

In the wind and rain,

Often inclined to disappear,

May we be found.

May we all be found.

Continue

I consider another tattoo, in a more visible place, so I can see it every day. A reminder of continuing on, the importance of continuing on to the next thing. 

Every day a choice

To continue from this place

To the very next

Passing pumpkins

When we don't do one thing, we're doing another. It's always a choice. The pumpkin unloading Saturday is the same Saturday as Wheaton Homecoming. I will be there filling lawns, one pumpkin at a time, one town over. 

Instead of unloading pumpkins

Joining the long line

Passing pumpkins,

I will be

Somewhere else.

I will find new people

In lines of their own

Passing pumpkins

Person to person

To make a bigger picture

In the end.

We will fill lawns and lawns

With pumpkins,

Sell them

One at a time.

Instead of unloading pumpkins,

Instead of passing pumpkins,

I will be the next town over

Communing

With a different sort

Of pumpkin

One at a time.

Still life

We have taken many pictures of the now not-so-new kitten. We try to capture pictures for the daughter. The pictures hardly give the real picture. Still life with kitten...not so still.

Still life with kitten

Another thing entirely

Rarely still at all

Life with kitten

Blame it on the kitten.

This morning

We slept too long.

It was the kitten’s fault.

She snuggled between us

Said

In her kitten way

Oh don’t go

See how cute and snuggly

I am.

The alarm went off

Again

And

Again.

Finally

We are awake,

All of us.

Popcorn

I remember when my son was three and he played with a piece of gold string longer than with any of his other toys. It was his kite, his trap, and any number of other things. I am reminded of him while I watch the kitten with her singular piece of popcorn.

The kitten, with joy

Plays with one piece of popcorn

For at least an hour

Who do you say that I am?

Peter identified Jesus as the Messiah. Jesus then knew he could launch into the "tough bits." Who do you say that I am? Who do I say that you are? What comes next?

This is

The Relational Question.

Never mind that Jesus asked it

Ok

Jesus asked it

And Peter got it

Almost right.

Still

I think of everyone

In the known universe

And beyond

All the people

All the creatures,

All things sentient

And even insentient

Like that rock

Over there.

For the sake of conversation

Who is that other?

Who am I

In relation to you?

Who are you

In relation to me?

Who do you

Say that I am?

Who do I

Say that you are?

Then comes the listening

More listening

Even more listening

And perhaps

Just maybe

A response.

Theme

Years ago I read about a preacher who somehow worked "water baptism" into every sermon. His congregation waited for the reference every Sunday. I believe we all have themes, clergy or not. What's yours?

Clergy often speak

Of having one sermon

To preach,

One revolving theme.

If congregations are lucky

It is a big theme

With lots of detail,

Many permutations

Which can go on

For years.

Since seminary

My theme has been

Openness

Even before then

It was

Openness.

Clearly

I am still learning,

Even as I mostly do not preach

Anymore.

Now I sit and listen

For themes,

For sermons we each

Are called to preach.

I find my seat

Life continues interesting. Good to see a classmate from Wheaton (Hi, Betty!), then there was the woman who sat on my other side. I introduced myself, she introduced herself and told me I looked familiar. We were, all three of us, sitting in a sea, perhaps on the shore of a sea of fresh-scrubbed faces. The topic was complex trauma treatment. Yes.

I find my seat
In the back of the room,
A room of fresh-scrubbed
Young faces.
I do not know most everyone here
Yet they are still familiar
From not so long ago.
A woman arrives late,
Slides into the chair next to me.
She
Of course
Is someone who had invited me
To apply for a job,
Un-invited me,
Then invited me again,
Then forgot it all entirely.
Now she barely remembers
Who I am.
Me
In this sea of fresh-scrubbed faces.
She
In this sea of fresh-scrubbed faces.
Together.

Chaff

In praise of chaff.

I learn to say

Maybe so.

I learn to say,

Perhaps not

As well.

These days

I hold things more lightly.

I examine what may be chaff

For that one grain of wheat,

Watch the chaff blow away

In the wind,

The beauty of dust

In sunlight.

Farewell,

Chaff.

Thank you for such a fine job

Of holding wheat

Lightly

For a time.

Thank you for your momentary beauty

In the sunlight.

Hint

How do you know when things are working? Sometimes it's a little whisper of possibility. A bare breeze.

Sometimes a hint comes:

Things just might be working. Just

Maybe a whisper.

In celebration

Today I got news that someone put "into play" something I suggested in counseling. Hooray. Better even than finding a new flavor of ice cream. This is in celebration of new beginnings.

Today is the beginning

Of fall.

I celebrate

Such new beginnings.

In fact I realize

New + beginning

Is an oxymoron.

A beginning

Is always new

No matter what time frame

It starts.

In the newness of today

I celebrate new beginnings.

I do not care

If this is an oxymoron.

I see it rather

As emphasis

On how new

It really is.

Not the year for crabapples

If it's not one thing... it's another.

It is not the year

For crabapples

But when crabapples

Are not in store,

Other things find their way.

The grapevine

Winds its way

Up the crabapple

To reach the sun.

The elderberry bush

Has never looked so good.

At church

There are green beans

At the door

Every time I go in.

I go in more often

These days.

It is not the year

For crabapples.

It is the year

For so many

Other things.

The cardinal

Sometimes there is power in a passing remark.

The cardinal alights

On the pine

Next to the front window

Lit by the morning sun

Then flies away.

It was a short visit

But he was perfectly framed

By the middle window pane

As if

As if

He’d planned it

Or as if

Someone had planned it.

The next day

A matter-of-fact woman tells me,

In passing,

Apropos of nothing,

As if an afterthought,

You know

Some people think

A cardinal appearing

Is someone who has died

And has come

To say “Hi.”

Then I remembered

The cardinal

From the day before.

Geiger counter

Wow. I have no secret formula. That doesn't stop me from wanting to find it for him. Perhaps for me too.

So we talked

And we talked

About where    

God showed up

Recently

Though really it was where

We showed up

For God.

So it always is.

Of course

He said

I know God is everywhere

And in everything

Of course

He is still looking.

Me too

I said

Me too.

He is hopeful that next time

I will offer the secret formula:

A Geiger counter

For God.

Me too.

So hot today

Some days are meant for organizing.

So hot today.

I am grateful

For a light schedule,

Appointments I must make

But not keep

Quite yet.

There is accomplishment enough

In appointments made,

Penciled in

On the calendar

For two weeks

From now

Or even later.

In this moment

They take advantage of each moment... these cats. They practice being big and little... together.

In this moment

The cats sleep in the sun,

The bigger cat with tail

In the smaller cat’s face.

Both have eyes closed.

I quickly take a picture.

Now

They are a herd of elephants

On the veldt.

They thunder

Through the house.

And now

They are asleep again.

There is still sun

To sleep in.