yesterday lingers.

heavy baggage under dropping eyes.

i wanna do everything but sit in silence, everything but get closer to insides.

it feels as if all of me is telling me not to. its ok, everything tells myself, you can miss just one more sit.

but it is my rebellious spirit, my forever guide (and misguide at times), that wants to disobey these posturings of support.

yesterday night I made a mistake. I make mistakes kinda often, I suppose. Been alone in my head and heart for so many years that I forget where I’m at sometimes. People know this about me, my fam especially. And it’s with this knowledge that I’m known by folks to be irresponsible, careless, forgetful, tardy to the party, spacey, clumsy, etc.

Since learning this, I really do try to be less of those things. but when I do exhibit those qualities, I judge myself with the voice of those who have judged me, and hard. Yesterday was one of those days. And as a strange (and mean) punishment, I told myself that I don’t deserve to sit because if i cannot have my mindfulness shift from meditation to my day-to-day then fuck it.

these were my stories yesterday in the thick of it.

today i sat. because i do make mistakes. the fucking end.

free moving parts.

i hold tension- my jaw tightens, my stomach locks, my eyebrows furrow, my shoulders become friendly with my ears. and when i sit, my purpose is to notice, so i notice these parts held and i loosen my grip and release. but its because im sitting in place with the purpose of noticing that release happens. how often in my day, with all the movings, reactivities and stressors, do i notice when i hold, grip and tighten the many parts of me that want to be free?

how often can i notice it now?

when i cease holding focus with my breath, when my thoughts, stories and imaginings begin to hold me instead, physical discomfort (and essentially most internal sensations-pleasant, neutral and unpleasant) cease to be noticed as well.

how often am i held by mental activity of what had once existed, can possibly exist or will exist, instead of feeling the seemingly imperceptible and constant change that drives my body and spirit?

how often do i use distraction as a method of leaning away from discomfort? when am i able to lean towards it?

beautiful poetics in the forms of words, pictures and other imaginings move through my  mind while meditating.

it’s during these moments that i notice three observations:

1. i enjoy so thoroughly getting lost in the beautiful.

2. i crave to possess all which i imagine because i fear i will lose them if i don’t.

3. these imaginings veer me from learning quiet more deeply.

“maybe love isn’t enough”

but it really seems like love is enough and perhaps what we think of it- our ideas, experiences and feelings about love are not enough.

our ideas not big enough

our experiences too few and too stagnant

and our feelings mixed up in the former two.

when we try to love one another, our selves and those around us, the trying (i.e. all the sexy, unsexy, difficult and oh so easy) is us in the process of loving- we’re tapping into the deep caverns of our most liberated selves, the selves that knew how to love beyond and before birth.


is just another form of enlightenment, another form of liberation. and if love is that, if we are trying to love like that then love will not just have its sweets and easies but it will too have those times of heartbreaks and pelagic sorrows- times where we turn away, walk away from the path towards liberation. in those times, we will have to remind ourselves and each other that the path is there awaiting our precious hearts, spirits and feet. it is there no matter how many times we turn away from love, from our liberation, it is there awaiting our coming.

love is definitely enough.

we are on its path.

the question of discipline- how can i develop discipline so that i can develop skills, explore passions and learn more deeply- is one that i have held since the days of ditching middle school 4 days a week and trying everything for just too brief a time. this question, whenever it arose and it did so quite often, arose in fits of frustration and hate for myself; never did i hold it sweetly inside myself, never patiently letting the answers arrive in my life as life chose to present them. i held this question over myself, always beyond reach, dangling it 10 stories high, or often, just too few inches too far. i used it to show myself that i am the same old unchanging me- unruly and too wild of mind to be too good at anything.

but i must remind myself that i am living the answers, it’s just that the answers seem to go hiding in the vastness of the mutating environments of life. they are forgotten sometimes, buried in memories i no longer can remember. and i need to remember. i need to remember that these answers that go missing can always be found in the subtleties of the day-to-day, the mundane and the minute. i become answer for that minute moment on that mundane day- whether i realize it or not- it realizes itself in me. these brief and fleeting moments are incredibly important because soon, my dear one, once these brief and fleetings become abundant and piled high, i will realize that i have been answer all along.

free write written for radical fuckin’ sangha, a meditation space for organizers and revolutionaries, held on tuesdays at Oakland Makerspace. the prompt was on a quote by ranier maria rilke:

“have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.”