I remembered to forget just for a moment. Just for a moment the whole universe slid through my fingers, up through my spine, down past my regret…and through the wheeling, flipping curtains of laughter that were holding me in their enfolding graces. Through the dim domain of breathlessness I spun, I hung on for dear life…I pounded the floor and I rounded the corner of sanity, looking up just once to make sure I was still standing on solid ground…before I
and awake so deeply awake
and aware so unbearably aware
and alive so innately alive
and this is my task. and this is my goal. to experience the vast depth and heights of human experience. everything. everything. through every possible route and path i can achieve. i must give up my strange concept that i could ever attain any sort of purity in this world. this world is polluted. my life and body have already been polluted. so i will do the best i can with the world i have been born into. i will follow my impulses, not punish my urges…LISTEN to my body and my desires and follow. and trust. and open. and forgive what i wish could be better in me in the awareness that EVERYTHING is right. EVERYTHING is leading down this mysterious path that is CONSTANTLY opening. taking me somewhere i can never know. through everything. everything i am and will be. everything i meet and greet and hear. through this gentle, violent journey towards discovering the full capacity of my humanity. of my instrument as this form in this body. through stretching the absolute heights of my own ability to be alive. through the fullness of my senses, the depth of my generosity, the commitment of my intentions, the experimentation and discovery of my own faiths and experiences. to travel, to see, to taste, to feel, to experience, to break apart, to stretch, to touch, to illuminate. this is my life’s work. nothing else. all else is PART of the path. the conditions to lead me. my career, my work- all of that is secondary- simply leading me to whatever experiences it is i need to have to become, to discover, to grow into the ever unfolding me that i always am. forgive yourself. you are only a human for a short time, in this form, this body, this life, this name…for whatever reason. give THIS existence all it can be given. care for this person that you have been born into as if they are your child. this is your existence.
it’s the contradiction of life. that’s the only thing that makes sense.
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.
And then the world snapped. Cracked. Broke its own back and collapsed. Dreamed its way defiantly through the crowds of long grass. Through the aching muscles of trees and the sore limbs of water that wanted to pour and be poured, effortlessly, endlessly through the minds of wanderers. Through the toes of creatures. Through the skin of selfless actions. Through the breath of all saving magic. Through miles of tunnels of streams of consciousness and all black water that rolls back once it has licked the tip of its own tongue. Through all sweet wishes waiting inside mouths, tasting their own silent dreams and sucking on the glowing embers of words. I wished for every moment that momentarily mentioned my name that my name would be wordless, soundless, unspeakable- that we would all remember the colorful breath of that first, unspoken word and let it fill every tiny hair on our bodies. Let our bodies be bigger than bones. Let our minds be more malleable that flesh. Let neurons catch their breath and exhale. Let wind speak, shout, sing the harmony of the curvature of the world it knows so well. Reorient yourself to the tumbling oracle of light. The radiation of rainbows and all words gone unsaid. Unthought. Undreamt. Unborn. To the unborn magic of the world- I promise to warrior on. I promise to find you and let you breathe through me. To give birth to you. Through thought. Through speech. Through breath. To give it back. To let it go. To let it be created.
Oh there’s a tumbling roar in my stomach, oh there’s a sizeable chunk missing from this place in my brain where things should be ordered. Should be threaded together and woven and wondered but oh no there’s a raging fire ripping through my trunk, the base of my roots and the limbs of my truth. There’s a message being pounded from the grass to the grain to the rain and to all consumers consuming consumption. To all radios blasting resonance and to all boxes building bones. To all homes rounding the corner of disaster and to all radiance spreading out from the center to the center to the little curling edge of the circumference of my mind. Which is not really a mind. Which has not been a mind for some time. Rather, a large circle within a circle radiating through a labyrinth of mystery someone wants to call thought. This is for humanity. This is for faith. This is for love.
Let love win. Let love rip your heart to shreds and devour you whole. Let love taste you, chase you and erase you. Let it square off your shoulders and dust off your fear. Let it blossom in your veins and tip through the radiance of your body.
I am so eternally grateful. This unending, infinite sensation of thanks that fills my entire body and almost sends me to tears. So grateful for air, for life…that humans perceive this great illusory dream for whatever reason I will never understand. I am so grateful that I am grateful. I am grateful to be awake, aware, alive. I am grateful to have a heart- to be unafraid to love. I am grateful to be loved. To be able to stand center stage, stare out into a black abyss of an audience and fill an entire theatre with my voice. To be able to move my body, to know that my body is full of youth. To be able to wake up tomorrow and know that I get to stand on stage under the blinding lights and speak. And that that has meaning. And that meaning has beauty. And to understand…even the tiniest fraction of this infinite universe as meaningful…for even a moment. There comes magic. Magic is everywhere. In everything. In every glow of every stage light and it every warm recognition of a soul to another soul through a look of the eyes. We are love. We are one being. We are the earth and all her spluttering words and attempts to say her own name. We are firelight. We are star stuff. We are love. I does not exist. I am only part of the great We that we all are. And this show is a gift. To me. To the audience. And to magic.
This is a transformation. A metamorphosis. Into love. The full awareness of complete, whole love.
“Let me not outlive my own capacity to love.” – Metamorphoses
And we ripped our hearts out of our sleeves and tore down our skins and shredded our souls into little visible threads of speech. Of words. Of “ors” or “yeses” or something hanging around the edge of a quotation mark, a question mark, a mark of undefinable resonance. Of a collection of weeds and seeds and all the things my mouth cannot spit out fast enough to come to your ears as comprehension. As the resolute sound of hearing. Of the remarkable feet of steering a mind through the fog of disarrayed thought. To find, to follow to reach to catch I’m sitting here waiting for you to be waited on. I’m gathering up nothing at all and sending it back to the wind. To say thank you. To say hello. To say WAKE UP and know yourselves again. You are all souls waiting to be entered. You are all gates with elaborate carvings waiting to be sprung upon and plowed through. We are recycled earth of generations of germinating wishes wanting to enter the walls of your heartbeat. We are what we are and we will be what we be until we remember how to sing through our pores and dance through our ragged bones. Our rough splinter shreds. Our tiny fragments of light and air that just graze the grace of being grown. Of being known. Of having somewhere to call our own. Something and something and finally- somewhere. We’ll be there. We’ll be just grown enough to reach the next door, latch it open, heave our weak and wretching bodies into the bold newlight and remember how to be born again. How to be born again. How to renew the newness of petals, screechings of birds, howling of wails, the tales of good and evil, the goodness of injustice and the fairness of nature which is savage and ravenous. Nature wants new blood. Nature wants ancient souls. Nature heaves great whimsies of lungs of air onto itself, trying and trying and trying again to renew its own dirtskin. To reject its own destitution. And yes. To at long last, be born again. Be born again.
Rambling, tambling, fumbling words and a bucket of light, a resonance of sound and a dash of twisting wood to hold us in place. We’re rattling the edges of a theatre with our breath. We’re tucking our fears into our socks and our socks into our barefeet and we are running, twisting, galloping through swells of fresh airlight. We are creating birth.
I sit on stage and I know I am home.
I’ll always be at the beginning of the beginning of the end of the story. Where the story begins and what it wants to tell, to say, to speak…to shriek with every pale phantom voice: I was here.
I thank the leaves for falling.
”If you’re going to try, go all the way. Otherwise, don’t even start. And, you’ll do it, despite rejection and the worst odds. And it will be better than anything else you can imagine. There is no other feeling like that. You will be alone with the gods, and the nights will flame with fire. You will ride life straight to perfect laughter. It’s the only good fight there is.”
If I could get on a plane right now…I would go anywhere. Anywhere but here. The ties and chains and nonsense games of obligation have swept me into insanity and I have to breathe. I need to breathe. At least let me start with fresh air.