Love Letter

In your presence, my knees go weak and I fall like a drunk, liquid bones pooled at your feet, unbraced against any future.

I can do this, as you have no power over me.

You look through my thoughts and the way I try to fill out my daily uniform (even what I was before I came to be), finding no flaw, no lack, no mistake or failure. In your sight I am a diamond and grain of sand becoming fragile glass--all the same, all the same. I am no paragon, but pure virtue, to you.

There is no place I am not allowed to go and nothing I am not allowed to see. I do not have to ration love for fear of spoiling myself or others; I don't have to hesitate to be angry or sad or full of joy. I am permitted to speak the nonsense of absolute conviction, only to throw it back to the sea when evening comes.

You encourage my curiosity and propensity to be my own student, refusing to abandon me even when I lash out of momentary confusions.

Much as I long to hang a garland around your neck and crown you with gold to prove some form of you (making something like a solid memory), you vanish into a moment, a crowd, a zero-point, simply to reveal yourself to me as all things, any thing, no thing, to bring me face-to-face and face-in-face with you. I remember, then that you are my default condition.

You believe nothing I say, but drink up these streams of words the way a great river drinks tiny tributaries. Eventually, I feel them rain softly down, charged and purified by their course through your seasons. How can I not feel like a privileged queen who only lives to serve?

I need prove nothing; I stand before you knowing nothing, and the less I know, the more you show until I cease to find the beginning or end of anything, until it makes no difference whose work of art I am or if the canvas goes unsigned.

You are an impossible lover, and I am grateful, for it makes all love possible. This is the one and only relationship in which all differences are reconciled before they appear, and celebrated long after they are gone.

I am content to be your latent Venus, sleeping patiently inside the smooth, solid marble of forever that you are, needing no hammer or chisel to bring me to light, no evidence that I exist within your heart. The cool, full span is perfect, the heated emptiness perfect, also. Ignorance of my beauty and the effort to unveil it are two notes of the same silent song.

All the music, poems and stories come and go; all the water and weathering, dream and illusion in magnificent abundance. Is it any wonder that you are my deity, that I fall in mirth, astonishment, grief and love?

I write to you, to me, to us, from our reasonless home in the pointless realm, so that space is available for this joy...and I see, delighted, that you are here, already!

Maria's Arts

I've begun to post art and poetry on a "sister" page, here in Blogger. I have a website where these things are posted routinely, but I may not be able to maintain it, as the cost is becoming prohibitive.

Both links appear on the right. Should you decide to visit either one, I hope you enjoy viewing these things as much as I do creating them!

Love and thanks,
Maria

Falcon, Storm, or Great Song?

Recent conversations with friends, family and self have involved a great deal of pointing out Things Not Liked in 2009, as well as Things Needing Change in 2010. Everything and everyone, it seems, needs an overhaul like never before, with all speed and urgency.

It's practical and good to make plans for improvement in life, to take those actions which help bring about a change in the well-being of yourself and those you care for. But if these resolutions are based on a pile of anger and fear, directed toward things and people "out there" or perceived flaws "in here", stop. Please. If they fly in the face of your deepest values, but you feel desperate somehow, stop. If they are to appease, placate or otherwise pretend some kind of servitude, stop.

None of this stuff works, even if you think it's all for your own good, or because "you gotta do whatcha gotta do".

The way most of us were trained to operate in life may initially set us up for continued disappointment within ourselves, at the least, and raging conflict on all levels at the worst. It begins when we assume that we are one cohesive personality that is supposed to respond in appropriate ways to the rest of the world. We develop an idea that we are, or should be, a good, caring, strong, stable, healthy, (pick a positive adjective) person. We think we know what this paragon should feel and look like, based pretty much on the process of elimination: Well, it's not that or that or this...so the opposite must be true.

We may succeed for a time on our new diet, change in behavior or other passionate plan to be closer to our ideal human. Perhaps we learn things, perhaps not. But the strain of being on-guard all the time against that overweight, addicted, angry, depressed or (insert negative adjective) person, still lurking in the wings somewhere, eventually takes its toll. The slip-up happens, the depression returns, and it appears we are meant to fail. We might freak out, get sick, or just develop the world's stiffest upper lip and get on with it...bearing the cross, suffering in silence.

The truth is, we are many personalities, many characters constantly shifting and changing in relation to what we believe our circumstance to be. We may think of ourselves and others as general "types", but this trick is for convenient mental filing purposes only. Hidden within these types are their direct opposites, anything on the range in-between, and some things we would be shocked to discover. Unless, of course, we observe ourselves closely.

The only truly stable thing within us isn't a personality at all, but the capacity to recognize our cast of characters as they arise and disappear. This very recognition is the key to resolving the conflict problem. Almost as soon as I note the voice of the critic in my head, she cannot take over and live vicariously through my actions. I see her. She has her say and leaves. There is no reason to struggle with her point of view or hate her, or mount some lifelong crusade against her big mouth. It only gets bigger in a fight. Same goes for the joker, the romantic, the dependent child, the rebel, the cookie-monster, the selfish hermit. Did I mention the killer, or the fanatic, lunatic power-monger? First cousins to the compassionate, temperate, giving, enlightened savior. Oh, yes.

We recognize all these characters because they live within us, good, bad or indifferent, whether we want to admit it or not. We don't have to like them or extend their lives through action, unless we really want to. We are the kaleidoscope, the flux of colors and the observing eye. A color we may not prefer, or one that even sickens us, will eventually make an appearance, along with the beautiful shades we are attached to.

Relaxing into this mysterious capacity and recognition of what we are has the effect of reducing the power these temporary identities have in our lives. They are somehow equalized and granted citizenship in our inner territory, which is pretty much what they all want, anyway--this kind of love. I don't know how it is, but in spite of the sheer number of role-players identified, there is always enough space for useful and appropriate solutions to problems, supporting everything we typically view as positive and nurturing. Ten delegates show up with creative, loving and compassionate means, with only one axe-murderer in tow to spice things up. When things get logical and practical at the round table of the mind and heart, she simply skulks away. It happens so often, that I am inclined to believe that our nature wants to turn toward these things like plants dancing with the sun...that, in spite of apparent evidence, we do know an ethical, more effortless way to be.

So in the New Year, I'm asking that all my loves take heart, and follow it to things truly loved and filled with joy and learning for all of us. Walk away from the inner battle and the strategy of "winning" at all cost. Call all your least-attractive personas together and look them in the eyes to find out what they really need. It most likely isn't what you think. Honesty is the gift you will receive from the world, as soon as you are this honest with yourself...

Peace,
Maria