December 4, 2011
The world sleeps again,
but I do not. I keep watch.
I now notice more.
As this year slows down, I must admit to a personal transformation that I have undergone as I wrote these haiku, as I looked for moments of beauty to capture as souvenirs. It is nothing very dramatic; it is a small step I took every day. There has been a change. You would not really notice if you saw me every day. But if you haven’t seen me for a few years you might not recognize me.
There is definitely a difference. It isn’t that I am a different person. More accurately, it is that I am closer to being the person I am. This blog reminds me of the poem “The Waking” by Theodore Roethke with the repeating lines, “I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow./ I learn by going where I have to go.”
Waking up for me too is slow. I like it that way.
November 12, 2012
Living border stones:
they nestle, shift and tumble;
nothing sleeps but me.
I touch a stone. It surprises me. The stone’s response does not match my sluggish preconceptions; its sharp reality does not match my drowsy memories.
The stone touches me. It speaks to me of layers and untouchable time and struggles that have tempered its formidable spirit. I listen, I strain to listen. I want to understand everything, but it is hard; I am only half awake.
The stone touches me. Its warmth from basking in the faint sun flows through my fingers to my own spirit. I realize I have never held a stone. This is the First Time! I am an infant on all fours in the Garden exploring. I must be Helen Keller, speechless, having rediscovered the Word.
How can I sleep – tell me! – how can I sleep again when the World is so full?
August 10, 2011
If you look outward,
you are asleep and dreaming.
Rouse a closed flower.
When I think about death, it seems like it must be a dreamless sleep. For both I am not conscious and so the world as it is does not exist for me. One lasts for eight hours if I am lucky; the other lasts a very long time.
When I think about life, it seems like it must be a dreaming sleep. For both I am not conscious and so the world as it is does not exist for me. One lasts for eight hours if I am lucky; the other lasts a very long time.
When I think, it seems like it must be time to wake up.
March 21, 2011
When did this happen -
the gardens full of green shoots?
While I was sleeping?
How many times must this happen? How many times must I be lazy? How many times must I choose sleep over vigilance? How many times must I take the easy way out? How many times must I be caught unawares?
Any number of times.
January 28, 2011
The snow is a sleep
that heals with soft white hands and
wakes to dreams of green.
There is a Zen saying, “When you eat, eat; when you walk, walk,” which speaks to the importance of being fully present in whatever we are doing at the moment. A person should not sleepwalk through his/her life and wake up some distant day wondering, “How did I get here?” Life, to be lived, must be lived mindfully.
True sleep, however, is also important. It helps to restore and re-balance body, mind and spirit. So, if I may play with the Zen saying, good advice might be, “When you sleep, sleep; when awake, wake up!”