tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3708964764763268852024-03-13T02:46:29.008-07:00Movimiento...Raquelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06427024620491716820noreply@blogger.comBlogger302125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-370896476476326885.post-91690024968917216042016-03-07T19:45:00.003-08:002016-03-07T19:45:48.781-08:00to be truthful,sometimes,<br />
i am terrified of loving this much.Raquelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06427024620491716820noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-370896476476326885.post-68959429677230331332016-02-03T06:51:00.003-08:002016-02-03T06:51:39.681-08:00between the worldssome mornings<br />
the day greets you quietly<br />
and like a familiar, will<br />
curl up next to you, softly<br />
or climb into your lap<br />
some times<br />
the day greets you gently<br />
you rise in surrender<br />
to the moving shape<br />
of things<br />
some mornings<br />
you slip into consciousness<br />
with the same<br />
ease you slip into dream<br />
and the night<br />
kisses you sweetly as you leave her arms<br />
the day<br />
not yet crowning, the moon<br />
beginning the sultry-eyed final act, as<br />
she tucks herself in before<br />
the first tendrils of light<br />
these mornings<br />
you remember, with familiarity<br />
a certain changing shape<br />
a certain glow<br />
a creature within, this wild one once<br />
who followed the scent of mystery on the wind, who<br />
knew the sound of her own<br />
name when it was called by<br />
all those many wild ones<br />
once<br />
her skirt scraped the dance floor of the sky and<br />
the heavens split open to wash the earth again<br />
with rain<br />
to nourish the soil that we all grow from<br />
she, this, I<br />
who now wear the night sky like a blanket<br />
and rise from dreaming's easeful wandering<br />
to live this day like an arrow<br />
sharp, to the point,<br />
true and<br />
aimed.<br />
<br />Raquelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06427024620491716820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-370896476476326885.post-46011882506944546632016-01-21T05:52:00.000-08:002016-01-21T05:53:04.056-08:00before dawni watch the bart train navigate<br />
through the city lights in<br />
the last lingering darkness of night<br />
a thin thread of light, silent at this distance<br />
snaking, sliding, slicing through<br />
the jumbled horizon<br />
the air is cold on my face<br />
but in that enlivening, not painful way<br />
i feel the moisture in it's taste<br />
and i am grateful for the gentle and consistent<br />
rain of late<br />
this is morning, today<br />
my daughter woke with a squeaking shriek at 4 am,<br />
hungry and complaining a little, though she still smiles<br />
every time our eyes meet<br />
<br />
what an angel<br />
<br />
i surrender to the sharpness with which i am awake<br />
and rise,<br />
to start the day<br />
why not?<br />
this may be the only time i get to myself, today<br />
quick and quiet<br />
stolen moments, precious in their weight<br />
this is me, today<br />
new and unfolding<br />
bold and broken open<br />
trying,<br />
trying,<br />
trying to shake loose the hold of doubt's roots in my mind<br />
to release and remold the texture and shape of matter, of muscle<br />
and sinew and bone<br />
alone, this morning<br />
with myself<br />
the lights, the night<br />
the cold, fresh air<br />
that presses up all around me,<br />
reminding<br />
my skin of its shape<br />
<br />
<br />Raquelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06427024620491716820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-370896476476326885.post-13814969739630221482015-12-12T07:11:00.000-08:002015-12-12T07:11:26.568-08:005ammy stomach heaves and wretches<br />
memories? dreams? flashbacks?<br />
sensations<br />
run up and down my body<br />
my skin like fire<br />
like something not my own<br />
then begins<br />
the restlessness<br />
and i am up, i am moving<br />
through space like a frantic pleading<br />
keep moving, keep doing, keep breathing<br />
stay above it<br />
above this sadness<br />
that greets you each morning, like<br />
an old friend<br />
this weight you've never not known<br />
at least since you can remember<br />
can you remember?<br />
<br />
in my otherwise<br />
elephantine memory,<br />
there is so much unclear<br />
so many blurred visions<br />
chunks of time, missing<br />
she says, you loved him!<br />
but all i remember<br />
is years later<br />
when he reappeared at a family party<br />
stomach clenched,<br />
knees locked,<br />
my frozen legs would not carry me close to him<br />
to even say hello<br />
i did not understand why<br />
at the time<br />
<br />
the photograph, of me posing<br />
my child body, thin and stark<br />
the look on your face, when i<br />
asked too many questions, again<br />
the silence<br />
the silence that haunts all the halls in my family's homes<br />
the compliance, the terrible note of acceptance<br />
of all my grandmothers' best kept secrets<br />
the shame, the pain<br />
the silence<br />
<br />
there is no witness to this story<br />
no one to tell<br />
no one to break down to<br />
my mothers memory is full of holes<br />
and wine<br />
winding staircases that lead to nowhere, to walls<br />
my otherwise elephantine memory<br />
feels untrustworthy, at best<br />
or maybe like it doesn't know if it can trust me yet<br />
my grandmother won't speak of it<br />
he, is dead.<br />
<br />
but this story lives and moves<br />
in my body<br />
memories resurfacing<br />
like tremors, quakes, triggers of<br />
torrential tears<br />
this story, this listening<br />
its like sewing together<br />
patchwork pieces of my past<br />
this is the only story that renders sense<br />
of useless scraps<br />
of these stories my body tells,<br />
but my mind cannot remember.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Raquelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06427024620491716820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-370896476476326885.post-62694834581756083372015-11-26T09:53:00.003-08:002015-11-26T09:53:59.956-08:00Of Family and Giving ThanksThis morning, I remember.<br />
I remember my many Novembers, these holiday times, autumns and winters spent with Family far and wide.<br />
<br />
I remember my first holidays away from the place I was born, with Family whose love lifted my head, made my belly roar with laughter and opened my heart and eyes to different ways of living, profound ways of loving, and the ever-present Abundance that has nothing to do with how much you have.<br />
<br />
I remember crisp, cold mornings in the desert. I remember the morning star and water blessings, the warmth of coals and so many heart-felt prayers, I remember Family of Spirit and cactus and feather and bone- whose love taught me about our capacity to surrender, to love beyond and through the pain we sometimes cause each other, to heal. <br />
<br />
I remember winters of wandering, of many seasons spent on the road- meeting Family everywhere and anywhere. I remember hand-crafted, patchwork Orphan Holidaze-wherein gathered all the ones near, that were far from their blood and place of birth- shared sadness turned shenanigans and laughter, bottomless cups of sweet coffee, plates overflowing with the fish and loaf-stone soup feasts that would fill bellies and hearts. Family whose love taught me that Family- is what we cultivate and create, and everyone and anyone we love that way.<br />
<br />
I give thanks for all those I am blessed to know and to love. For all my Family. Raquelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06427024620491716820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-370896476476326885.post-44326352907919351372015-10-18T22:48:00.001-07:002015-10-18T22:48:14.983-07:00New Mama WritingsThe week you were born, I wept.<div>
<br /><div>
I wept in gratitude, that you were healthy and strong.</div>
<div>
I wept in terror and utter humility at this heart, this life, this little body entrusted to me to care for and protect, to serve, to support, to nurture.</div>
<div>
I wept, already grieving the day we would no longer be together in a fleshly form.</div>
<div>
I wept, for fear of death- something I had never felt so viscerally before. </div>
<div>
What if you died? What if I did? </div>
<div>
We will. One of us first. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I wept with a heart that already knows it cannot control these things- that life is full of tsunamis and disasters and other small horrors. I wept knowing that some day, some way, we would be parted from one another.</div>
<div>
Never have I feared death, not in this way.</div>
<div>
There have been times in my life when I would have welcomed death, and many days when I lived my life as well as one dead. But not now. </div>
<div>
Your birth, your life has changed everything.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Never have I felt the inoperable, inevitable tear in my heart- knowing that loving someone this much, will result in sorrow of the same magnitude.</div>
<div>
This weeping was right, was good and proper and timely. I recall it with a tenderness, a preciousness, and hold this luminous space as sacred.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
What else can we do but break our hearts open to Love and weep in the face of the temporal reality of our bodies?</div>
<div>
What else can I do but treasure every day I get to spend with you? </div>
<div>
What else can I do but lay my head down, forehead touching ground, and give thanks for every little bliss? </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Raquelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06427024620491716820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-370896476476326885.post-41360766081416057462015-10-18T22:30:00.002-07:002015-10-18T22:31:16.818-07:00HerShe teaches me to smile again<br />
<div>
each morning.<br />
<div>
She greets the new day with a simple and uninhibited joy, </div>
<div>
she reminds me that today is a gift.</div>
<div>
Another day </div>
<div>
together, </div>
<div>
is a gift.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And it keeps on this way, this</div>
<div>
celebrating</div>
<div>
silly</div>
<div>
simple way.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
She teaches me to do better, </div>
<div>
to be better, </div>
<div>
just by being.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Raquelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06427024620491716820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-370896476476326885.post-992401028233349272015-10-06T15:59:00.002-07:002015-10-18T22:25:23.148-07:00The Season of the Deadwicked winding mind<br />
wormholes and<br />
white rabbits<br />
two steps forward, one step back<br />
two steps forward, one step back<br />
then<br />
the clickity-clack of bones, out of joint<br />
but still dancing in rhythm<br />
to your heartbeat, She<br />
the skeleton woman who haunts your depths<br />
who drinks the tear, who rends you Beloved<br />
and broken-open<br />
and vulnerable<br />
again<br />
<br />
<br />Raquelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06427024620491716820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-370896476476326885.post-36638425738757016852015-09-21T20:59:00.001-07:002015-10-18T22:26:00.843-07:00O Bee!Let me tell you, Friend,<br />
of a gift<br />
you once gave to me,<br />
<br />
it was close to when we first met<br />
amongst the rosehips and lizards<br />
the close and swarming calmly humming bees<br />
<br />
you asked me something,<br />
and then I watched you<br />
move towards the ground and sit<br />
before me<br />
kneeling.<br />
<br />
you listened,<br />
as I would sit in prayer<br />
<br />
my heart welled up in my eyes<br />
and honey tears<br />
spilled over the edges<br />
of my all my wounded places<br />
i have never felt so heard.<br />
<br />
I remember this<br />
now and then<br />
sometimes,<br />
in quiet moments of sweet reverie,<br />
ten-thousand tiny wings singing<br />
tonight,<br />
it rose to the surface of my mind<br />
when recalling a time<br />
i felt like someone bowed<br />
to the Queen in me.<br />
<br />
Bless you, Bee.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Raquelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06427024620491716820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-370896476476326885.post-27831015289527381352015-07-03T22:50:00.003-07:002015-07-03T22:50:44.380-07:00Courageembrace your Life.<br />
All of it.<br />
For all that it is. Let go, just<br />
for a moment, now, all<br />
that you think it is not.<br />
<br />
embrace your Life.<br />
embrace the good, the bad<br />
that which you cling to<br />
that which you push<br />
away at all costs.<br />
Just, embrace<br />
<br />
Hold it<br />
gently, in your arms<br />
Like the little one<br />
you once were,<br />
like the Little One<br />
to come,<br />
Who is already here,<br />
arriving.<br />
<br />
Embrace yourself,<br />
your many selves,<br />
the Ones who have been<br />
hidden<br />
or shut down<br />
or unfed<br />
for so long<br />
<br />
I call Myself to myself~<br />
I, we<br />
will need All of me, now.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Raquelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06427024620491716820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-370896476476326885.post-56269355173269806512015-05-21T09:01:00.001-07:002015-05-21T09:03:25.823-07:00mortar my heart is already folded<br />
like a crane<br />
or a child's fortune-teller,<br />
or maybe a bad hand<br />
<br />
its edges are crisp in places, soft in others<br />
taken on a shape that is not<br />
without its pointed places, not without pause<br />
or surrender<br />
taken on a form that is not its<br />
natural<br />
resting state<br />
<br />
how do we find our way back<br />
from those shadowy borders?<br />
back from half-truths that fell like mortars on the<br />
the small and still unstable trust<br />
that we were building<br />
<br />
i, am no carpenter<br />
no brick-layer<br />
i have built towers of feathers to the sky and wondered<br />
why my constructs keep toppling over<br />
i have not laid hands down on a project<br />
with anyone<br />
for a long time,<br />
in remembrance and reference and dread<br />
of what happened the last time<br />
i was stupid enough<br />
to believe<br />
that another's heart and hands<br />
were building with me<br />
<br />
this,<br />
this is no easy history<br />
to face, to rearrange, to release in<br />
order to hold something different<br />
but i am willing to try,<br />
i think<br />
i am willing to set down my disguise for awhile<br />
and just try to be me,<br />
with you,<br />
here,<br />
in this<br />
<br />
but what unknown weapons do you carry?<br />
what hidden land mines live beneath the surface of your skin that<br />
once set off-<br />
<br />
do not remember<br />
<br />
<br />
that maybe, you love me<br />
that mortar can fill the cracks, and make stronger<br />
or<br />
that we are trying<br />
to build<br />
anything at all.<br />
<br />
<br />Raquelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06427024620491716820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-370896476476326885.post-62612348224257257382015-05-04T08:13:00.002-07:002015-05-04T08:22:01.815-07:00New Relation (from Authentic Movement writings)<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
<br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; min-height: 13px;">
he is screaming.</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; min-height: 13px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
i start shaking,</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
not </div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
trembling.</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; min-height: 13px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
i am standing.</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
i walk towards the sound,</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
and pause</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
i stick my tongue out</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
i taunt, i’m not scared of you anymore</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
i push up my sleeves</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
to my elbows</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
i walk</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
i feel the bottoms of my feet</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
pad-like</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
balanced</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; min-height: 13px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
i walk around the screaming.</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
i am circling</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
hands on my hips,</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
feet striking the floor.</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
then</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
i lose a little steam,</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
the defiant confidence</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
of my stride is lost</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
as the screaming continues</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
and threatens</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
to grow louder.</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; min-height: 13px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
he is chanting.</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; min-height: 13px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
I bump into him,</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
and he is whispering soft</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
and low, shh, shh, shh, shh-</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
i am stunned.</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
i stop.</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; min-height: 13px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
his hand is touching mine.</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
his skin is old</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
and dry and cracked,</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
rough and tender.</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
i take his hand in mine</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
and place it</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
on the side of my head, my face,</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
cradling</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
i am held, gently</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
i am safe and protected,</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
cared for.</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
he gently encourages,</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
shh, shh, shh, shh-</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
tenderness fills a space</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
in my chest</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
i step away</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
and tears pour</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
down my face</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
big, wet, uncontrollable</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
streaming flow</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; min-height: 13px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
i stand alone,</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
and move again.</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; min-height: 13px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
this time</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
i am circling,</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
he is still screaming,</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
a choked back sob</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
i want to go to him and</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
touch him</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
tell him with my fingers, my hands-</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
shh, shh, shh, shh…</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; min-height: 13px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
something inside of me breaks</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
and compassion enters my heart.</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; min-height: 13px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
not shame,</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
not judgement,</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
for this pain and rage.</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; min-height: 13px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
my anger receives my compassion,</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
as i offer it to his.</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; min-height: 13px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; min-height: 13px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; min-height: 13px;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; min-height: 13px;">
<br /></div>
Raquelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06427024620491716820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-370896476476326885.post-66349049219748389752015-02-25T20:07:00.001-08:002015-02-25T20:10:06.489-08:00Dear Friend,<br />
<br />
In two weeks, it will be two years since you died.<br />
I still find this unbelievable.<br />
<br />
Sometimes I forget.<br />
Sometimes, walking down the street, I'll see a man with a similar stride or build or haircut, and the thrill of you races up my spine- lighting my heart and face with that certain silly joy that is you, and always you...and then the smack, the crash, the recognition of a stranger and that terrible remembering. <br />
It couldn't have been you.<br />
It won't be you again, anytime, ever. At least not this time around.<br />
<br />
And then it is heartbreak, all over again. It is the phone call that I got while driving down the freeway at breakneck speed. It is the raft overturned, the chaos, the horrible moment of truth that I was not there for, but that lives in my imagination. It is a sobbing that threatens to unbind my ribs from their cage, my chest cannot contain the raging river of grief that fills me.<br />
<br />
When I got off the phone that day, I howled. I shouted and screamed. I made horrible, animal sounds that scared even me. <br />
And now? Now, I cry quietly. Hold back. Somehow shame my grief into feeling old, feeling past it's time, as if the "use-by" date could expire on such things.<br />
<br />
But grief is not linear, Friend, and neither is my missing you. Some days it is the fiercest thing.<br />
<br />
And it still baffles me, how one can lay such beautiful plans, and unexpectedly, suddenly not be alive to live them. How an entire lifetime of dreams disappears in an instant.<br />
How you, <i>You</i>, can still be gone, still be dead. That this is true. That this is not changing.<br />
That you are not bursting-out from around some future corner, laughing at our tear-stained faces, howling, exclaiming that you've fooled us again! Ever joking, ever Trickster, You.<br />
<br />
And so, instead, I live with a cruel and hopeful forgetfulness. And a still sometimes unbearable truth.<br />
<br />
I love you. I miss you. <br />
This is true and unchanging.<br />
I love you. I miss you.<br />
You are always remembered, always cherished.<br />
We love you. We miss you.<br />
You STILL make us laugh, even in our grieving.<br />
<br />
Until we meet again,<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Raquelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06427024620491716820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-370896476476326885.post-43300623026079756862014-11-24T23:26:00.002-08:002014-11-24T23:26:22.157-08:00Llamandospeak.<br />
speak, now.<br />
the time has come to open your mouth and throw<br />
echoes of sound<br />
like bells and gongs resounding<br />
the way thunder rolls<br />
how water falls<br />
now, is the time.<br />
so speak,<br />
pour forth in waves from your tongue the beauty<br />
you see in everyone<br />
you know<br />
there is no face that<br />
does not resemble god's<br />
<br />
and the wind now<br />
roars to hear your spirit sing<br />
so let loose your words<br />
unleash everything<br />
untie your animal left panting outside<br />
release your bound maiden<br />
your whore, your bitch, your hag<br />
unfold in a whisper<br />
heal in song<br />
let metaphors soothe you, rock you softly to sleep<br />
cradled in a pregnant pause<br />
<br />
know surrender<br />
<br />
unclasp your understandings, your<br />
opinions highly held<br />
refinish all your edges<br />
rewrite the pattern<br />
break the spell<br />
breathe in<br />
breathe out,<br />
speak,<br />
now.Raquelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06427024620491716820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-370896476476326885.post-68256423889940079122014-10-25T15:27:00.002-07:002014-10-25T15:28:53.712-07:00todaywords,<br />
in their specificity<br />
elude me, as does any one flavor<br />
in my mouth this morning.<br />
their's a jumbled blending<br />
a pull-apart distinctive disrelation,<br />
and questions,<br />
so many questions dancing..<br />
<br />
questions that may or may not benefit,<br />
to ask<br />
to receive answers to<br />
possible story-lines run races<br />
through my inner fields, laughing<br />
and tripping each other in the high grass<br />
there is a confused sadness, an elation<br />
<br />
i am satiated<br />
i am full<br />
i am wondering<br />
i am appalled<br />
i am all of these things<br />
and many more,<br />
a stew-pot cauldron of nebulous<br />
and crystalline<br />
happenings.<br />
<br />Raquelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06427024620491716820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-370896476476326885.post-14374478685079346992014-10-07T09:03:00.002-07:002014-10-07T09:03:31.836-07:00Beloved Friendin dreams, I greet you<br />
<br />
by your own name,<br />
not the one you wore on the street.<br />
<br />
your eyes are shining and bright<br />
and your hair styled, clothes clean<br />
dapper, even<br />
with your slow and unsure smile.<br />
<br />
I wake,<br />
and wonder about you.<br />
You,<br />
who no one's heard from in awhile.<br />
You, who once upon a dingy garage<br />
taught me how to knit, with<br />
a warmth and gentleness and<br />
kindness, somewhat uncharacteristic<br />
you told me your mother had taught you,<br />
with a softness in your tone,<br />
maybe it was the memory of that love<br />
that shone through you, then<br />
<br />
I wonder if you're out there<br />
drifting, still<br />
Or maybe you have found rest,<br />
alive or dead.<br />
<br />
I wonder<br />
upon waking,<br />
and say a prayer for you.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Raquelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06427024620491716820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-370896476476326885.post-5491547968004168662014-09-29T22:59:00.001-07:002014-09-29T23:01:01.439-07:00So it goes..it's funny<br />
the things that can get you down.<br />
<br />
funny, and not really<br />
the cracks they forge, sometimes<br />
in the dam that's holding back the<br />
grey,<br />
the in-between place<br />
of living, but not really<br />
that floating somewhere<br />
between responsibility<br />
and flight<br />
ever, dusk, not quite dawn<br />
grey,<br />
despite the sun's light<br />
<br />
how much would it take, really? she asked me<br />
to wreak havoc and create destruction?<br />
and i think,<br />
<br />
nothing at all, really<br />
it would take<br />
nothing-<br />
just grey-blah-drifting away<br />
and it could start the spin, and the slow<br />
unwinding<br />
the melting down of<br />
all that I care about in my life,<br />
of all that i am working so hard for.<br />
nothing,<br />
really<br />
<br />
maybe i<br />
am just pessimistic<br />
and maybe she is hopeful,<br />
and maybe that should slap the shit out of me, really<br />
because she has just endured<br />
the greatest hardship<br />
of her life<br />
<br />
it's funny,<br />
the things that get you down,<br />
and even, if<br />
on another's behalf,<br />
the things that bring you light.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Raquelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06427024620491716820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-370896476476326885.post-68686113906846948192014-09-21T22:32:00.003-07:002014-09-21T22:32:56.321-07:00Herspeak to me of oblivion,<br />
of the quiet, fearful ghosts that<br />
haunt your hours<br />
tell me your fantasy,<br />
and I will tell you mine<br />
<br />
this morning<br />
I take my leave<br />
and find my mouth is full of<br />
poems<br />
<br />
rivers of thought<br />
and word and<br />
metaphor<br />
have somehow<br />
burst dams<br />
and now threaten<br />
to flood<br />
<br />
you, me,<br />
this day<br />
<br />
your sweet nectar covered<br />
my face<br />
and my hands<br />
delicious<br />
raw and vulnerable<br />
curious,<br />
I am the bee<br />
returning to the flower<br />
your pistil, stamen, petals<br />
drench<br />
and enchant me<br />
<br />
I am so taken with<br />
you,<br />
your nakedness in view of<br />
all the neighbors<br />
the way you<br />
take up space,<br />
neither<br />
begging, nor<br />
demanding.Raquelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06427024620491716820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-370896476476326885.post-92203753907651253242014-09-21T22:26:00.001-07:002014-09-21T22:26:30.865-07:00I amI am a flame,<br />
burning brightly<br />
my womb, my belly, my heart, my eyes<br />
navel and crown<br />
<br />
I am a flame,<br />
flickering in the wind,<br />
but never going out<br />
I will be a faithful tender<br />
of my soul's light<br />
I will lovingly care for this lucito<br />
entre de mi...<br />
<br />
A keeper,<br />
of sweet nectar honey-light,<br />
hot sweetness pouring forth<br />
A keeper,<br />
of ways forgotten and remembered,<br />
of my own soul<br />
I will burn steadfastly<br />
a beacon in the night<br />
illuminating the darkness of the world,<br />
and my own<br />
<br />
I am a flame,<br />
who will not go out.<br />
Who will not go out.Raquelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06427024620491716820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-370896476476326885.post-73735592329660122322014-09-21T22:20:00.004-07:002014-09-22T01:05:04.828-07:00on Joy, from my Dancing Time in COJoy pervades my being,<br />
it infuses every cell<br />
until it overflows<br />
then<br />
seeping out of my pores<br />
it radiates<br />
and rises<br />
<br />
I am pouring out<br />
a golden river of light<br />
to wrap you in,<br />
to encircle the world<br />
<br />
If we forget this place<br />
we will not have the fire to fight<br />
to make change<br />
we will drown in sorrow's wake<br />
<br />
this place in me<br />
is original and pure<br />
it is my spirit's favorite<br />
dwelling<br />
<br />
as I remember,<br />
I re-member myself<br />
<br />
Joy is a mighty resource<br />
it is the sun shining in my chest,<br />
through the long, dark night<br />
<br />
It is expansive, and warm.<br />
<br />Raquelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06427024620491716820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-370896476476326885.post-16453488421780010842014-09-21T18:39:00.003-07:002014-09-21T18:39:46.897-07:00the Forest on a Sunday.I had to go away,<br />
to be alone<br />
in the wilderness of the world<br />
to be able to hear myself<br />
to recognize<br />
the sound of my own voice<br />
amidst the clamoring<br />
<br />
today,<br />
this truth.<br />
<br />
There is nothing wrong with me.<br />
<br />
I am whole, a circle.<br />
ever circling<br />
and cycling<br />
through the layers of<br />
my own<br />
understanding.<br />
<br />
I am listening.<br />
<br />
Listening, now,<br />
to All of me.<br />
<br />
May I learn to greet myself<br />
with love, acceptance,<br />
gentleness<br />
and peace.Raquelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06427024620491716820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-370896476476326885.post-42304162610675355982014-09-21T17:56:00.000-07:002014-09-22T01:06:20.890-07:00Spider LessonsI only meant to admire her<br />
as I stepped<br />
closer to her sinewy, shining home<br />
when snap!<br />
a strand breaks and<br />
from out of me flies-<br />
I am sorry!<br />
<br />
stepping closer<br />
now<br />
to watch her<br />
<br />
meal interrupted, she<br />
moves quickly<br />
to the unraveling place<br />
it could have been the rain,<br />
the wind,<br />
a passing deer<br />
to cause the strand to break and I<br />
think, how often<br />
this must happen<br />
<br />
What kind of determination is this?<br />
<br />
I watch in wonder<br />
at<br />
She who weaves, and<br />
reweaves, again<br />
her home,<br />
her sustenance,<br />
her web<br />
without a complaint, or even<br />
great pause<br />
She returns to<br />
mending and spinning,<br />
over and again.Raquelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06427024620491716820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-370896476476326885.post-26922065285008307542014-08-24T23:24:00.001-07:002014-08-24T23:42:31.267-07:00trying to impress yousiiighhhhh...<br />
solita<br />
and not quite<br />
on this the day of rest, and<br />
now the night<br />
<br />
exhale<br />
<br />
and breathe in again<br />
<br />
deeper<br />
note the curvature of muscle<br />
the shifting of bone<br />
all the shapes I have taken on<br />
that are not<br />
my own<br />
<br />
hold the structures' imbalances<br />
in the eye of your palm<br />
hold your self, your body<br />
place hand over hand<br />
on the small of your back<br />
and remind yourself<br />
with insatiable tenderness-<br />
<br />
you are protected,<br />
you are held.<br />
<br />
twist, move,<br />
bend, curl<br />
unravel now, unroll~<br />
exhale, inhale, exhale<br />
let<br />
go<br />
<br />
second round now<br />
more questioning<br />
less light the<br />
substance of the words that come<br />
as i turn<br />
to welcome<br />
night<br />
<br />
and what of this darkness, my own<br />
and yours?<br />
what of the places that we exile and abhor?<br />
how do we move, towards?<br />
the kind of self-approval and acceptance<br />
that makes space for authenticity and vulnerability in relationship,<br />
and makes a gift<br />
of our presence,<br />
<br />
always<br />
<br />
welcoming others in,<br />
welcoming others in,<br />
welcoming ourselves in.Raquelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06427024620491716820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-370896476476326885.post-33544889466547822542014-07-24T14:29:00.001-07:002014-07-24T14:36:35.306-07:00the Dance...Sitting in a cute little coffee shop in Denver....I am feeling so thankful and excited to be here.<br />
<div>
Had a wonderfully late night, caught a 5:55 am flight, and somehow made it here. </div>
<div>
My sweet friend picked me up at the airport and, as always, we drop in together to the space shared between souls that have known each other before. Deep conversation, deeper laughter, as we catch up on each other's lives, a much shorter time in-between this time around.</div>
<div>
She welcomes me into her home, and I am delighted for her, for the place she has found and made for herself in the world. Choosing home...what a delicious, grounding, and nourishing thing to do. She is brilliant and shining.</div>
<div>
And in her light, I catch a glimpse of my own reflected. Of the shifts and changes and transformation that continue to unfold and blossom in me.</div>
<div>
Coming here, I was worried that I would not be able to show up as myself, or fully, or something...</div>
<div>
Worried that my old patterns of keeping myself small and separate would inhibit my ability to move with authenticity and relate to those around me.</div>
<div>
So far, not so.</div>
<div>
Thank goodness. </div>
<div>
Sometimes I live in fear of the snap-shut/shut-down/disappearing/disassociating act that has been a part of my life and my being. More and more, I feel the possibility of change, the affirmation of it. The evidence shows up unexpectedly some days.</div>
<div>
And, I know it may still happen, that I may have some road yet to travel with this old habit/pattern.</div>
<div>
But knowing something different creates the space for change. </div>
<div>
And gives me hope.</div>
<div>
The kind of hope that helps me choose to live every day and continue on, even when the road, internally or externally, gets rough.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I came here to dance.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I came here to dance with all the places in me that are yet uninitiated. </div>
<div>
I came here to dance with the young woman, the girl, who left and did not look back.</div>
<div>
I am here to dance with her, myself, she that swallowed down somebody else's stories, and so now rejects, abandons, and exiles herself.</div>
<div>
I came here to dance with myself, my life, my body's wisdom, my memories.</div>
<div>
I am here to dance with sadness, anger, compassion, fear, and joy.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I am here to dance and to welcome all of myself with open arms.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Raquelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06427024620491716820noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-370896476476326885.post-19531890471611042652014-07-16T13:38:00.003-07:002014-07-16T13:38:33.880-07:00Choicei am writing again and yet the page and pen are elusive friends that sometimes hide themselves and sometimes wait for my jaded eyes to open<br />
<br />
how to adjust and re-adjust to the reality of the days I find myself in<br />
how to hold both, all<br />
both my accomplishments and growth, and my disappointments and failures, and all those decisions that cannot be undone<br />
<br />
how to flow, to be willing to let go of anything at any moment for the sake of well being and balanced movement...how to transform patterns and presence<br />
how to dance with sadness of an existential nature, that which has moved in me always, or at least as far back as i can remember<br />
was it nurtured by my environment, or just exasperated by it? did i come in with this? something handed down to me to deal with?<br />
<br />
how to<br />
choose<br />
every<br />
day<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Raquelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06427024620491716820noreply@blogger.com0