Holy Infinity

Name the void.
Fill the dark with faces of deity
using words as you will.
See which one ignites and sparks

the light which can fill all wounds,
all hearts,
with ceaseless joy and wonder
at even the smallest parts.

Shouting into eternity,
using the name you claimed,
it’s hard for the near-sighted,
the finite
to see –
to just pray ceaselessly,
through the endless day & the endless night,
without fear if you’re doing it wrong
or doing it right.

It’s really beside the point you see,
whether you use a big or little ‘G’
to try and reach what lies beyond
and beneath
these houses of meat
restrained by their mortality.

Because where one God ends another begins.

A Holy Infinity.

+ K +

Untitled (for now)

This was written just this afternoon. The first few lines, however, popped into my head yesterday afternoon while driving home. A radio piece about the remembrance of the Rwandan genocide came on the air and got me thinking about love and loss – a woman who lost seventy members of her family spoke about how she no longer had anyone left to hold on to. That was the initial motivator, but Rwanda ultimately did not end up becoming the subject of the poem.

My hands are empty
but my chest is full.
So I say I can’t carry it
when the seams are stretched so thin
as it is.
Now it’s breaking open.

How can you hold all the love inside your own heart?
You have no choice but to let it go,
Let all the love you have flow
out into the world
and soak
every dry piece of dust it touches.

Let it wash over
everything,
everyone.

Maybe that’s why it hurts to love others
than yourself;
we try too hard to keep all
of ourselves
to ourselves.
Your heart has to spill a little to try & fill another.

Giving blood isn’t a painless thing,
but it’s a gift of life worth giving.
Shamelessly.
Fervently.
Endlessly.
Gifting ourselves to each other.

A Soul Looking Dimly In On Itself

The month of April is National Poetry Writing Month, aka NaPoWriMo, and so I’m going to try to post a few poems this month myself. I know myself well enough to know that I won’t be able to post poems every day, but I’ll certainly be posting a few :).

The following is a poem that I wrote on 3/7/14 after spending some time in meditation, which accomplished both the Lenten goal of meditating and doing something creative :). The title of it is the same as the title of this blog.

There in the dark you’ll find me
Where such things always seem to be
And if you look close enough you’ll see,
The eyes staring out are me.

Search in the shadows for a safe place
The light can’t always shine upon
the cracks, and the hollows, and the splinters,
that fade with the coming dawn.

Now in the echoes you’ll listen
And the chorus of silence you’ll hear
Will keep the beat with the drum in your heart
And the sighs of the deafening fear.

Brace for the light – let it burn you.
The flame will create something new
Something better and brighter,
And to you becoming you.

Realized
&
New

+ K +

Lenten Observations

Well here we are again in the season of Lent, the time where Episcopal churches all over the country are decked out in their purple vestments and all the shiny stuff is taken off the altar. Lent is traditionally a time of solemnity, contemplation, and denial, but I believe that it also offers a great opportunity for an individual to grow not only in their faith but in all areas of their life. For myself, I’ve decided to make Lent a time of creating positive habits that will continue with me long after this season has passed. Rather than take away I’ve always preferred to add instead. My initial goals for Lent were to meditate, exercise, and do something creative every day. Accomplishing at the very least two of these things was considered a victory in my book, especially since I feel as though I’ve been neglectful of my physical health for awhile now. Starting with the day after Ash Wednesday I began working out and did so daily with only about two days rest per week for about two straight weeks. My daily meditation practice was also going swimmingly, with me taking at least 10-15 minutes every evening to breathe deeply, relax, and contemplate.

Then, life decided to throw me a little curveball made of ick – I got a really awful combination of both a chest cold & allergy symptoms. This put me out of commission for about a week when it came to my Lenten goals, as I found it to be rather difficult to work out when not being able to breathe very well. Now, however, I’m feeling much better and have already started working my way back on track. I completed a small painting last week, went on a 2.5 mile walk with my husband Monday night, and have started meditating nightly again. I cannot tell you how beneficial working out physically, creatively, mentally, and spiritually has been for me. It feels really good to be able to accomplish things, no matter how small.

Thinking about this season in a “bigger picture” way, I can see the connections and commonalities between this time of the year both in the church calendar and in the natural world. Liturgically mirroring the forty days Christ spent in the desert after his baptism facing temptations, these are the days in which a person is encouraged to take the time to face their own shadow self: growing in their faith, getting closer to God, and through acts of self-denial get to know what really nurtures them and what can be left behind. It is a time of both reflection and development; time spent working on one’s self, ideas, and projects; separating the spiritual wheat from chaff; finding out what nourishes you as a whole person to help you grow into your full potential; time spent in the darkness before bursting joyfully into the light that is Easter.

Likewise, this is the time of year when actions are taken in preparation of welcoming new plant & animal life, and the symbols of renewal and rebirth surround us in our world. Now is the time when gardens are beginning to be tended to again after a dark winter’s hiatus; plots are dug, seeds are planted, flowers are beginning to bloom, trees are budding and flowering in the warming air. Before you can harvest you must sow, and the hard work must be done before cultivating a beautiful garden. This is true both literally and metaphorically. As is so often the case, our spiritual disciplines and the natural cycles of the physical world mirror, compliment, and inform one another. To phrase it another way: As above, so below. I’ve always been drawn to nature and felt comfortable incorporating Earth-based observances and practices into my Christianity, so to see that already traditionally represented within my church feels good. It feels natural (ha!).

How are you choosing to observe Lent? Have you subtracted or added this year? What lessons or observations have you come away with so far? Feel free to share!

+ K +