Velvet Verbosity

I know this one has been circulating for a while, but maybe like me this will be your first time seeing it.   The apple exploding is actually quite beautiful, but the watermelon?  One hair on the side of disturbing.  Too easy to imagine that as a body.  *Shiver*

One fantastic thing about where I live is that there is a LOT of live music every night of the week.  Last night I saw Unit 7, a local jazz funk band.  These guys so clearly have fun doing what they’re doing!  By the end of the night, almost everyone in the bar was clustered as close to the band as they could possibly get without being in their laps.  Everyone was dancing, everyone was smiling, and damn, I want that job of making people smile and dance!  I mean, maybe it was all the alcohol, or maybe it was the awesome high energy-jazzy-happy-fun musical stylings of this crazy group of fedora’d, funky, intelligentsia of music.

See them if you must, but I was hoping to claim them as my own personal property.  Yeah, they could live in my basement and I would feed them all the Lucky Charms they wanted.

Oh my god, you thought I died or something, didn’t you?  Nope.  I’m still alive and kicking, but my wrist did almost fall off this week, and my head did almost explode, and my well-being did fall down a slippery slope, but that’s another story.

And holy batman readers, you’re crawling out of the ethernet just when I disappear for a bit! As Basil Fawlty would say, “Just typical”.

So because I’m lagging behind with all of the 100 Word posts (rules here for you new folks) this is going to be a long post. Once I get up to 10 participants in one week, I’m going to start choosing a top three or something to post in full and provide link love to the others. This week, to make up for my, er, absence, here are all the entries from the last two challenges.

Two weeks ago, the challenge was “Hidden”.

“When a thing is funny, search it carefully for a hidden truth.” ~George Bernard Shaw

Secret Agent Mama continues to impress me with her creativity, her honesty, and her heart. If you’re not already a fan of hers, please let me introduce you to her.

Underneath all the years,
The poor choices,
Constant procrastination,
She waits.

The skinny, fit girl,
Who’s often felt but rarely seen,
Waiting to emerge again,
Hopefully.

Blaming her pregnancies,
Was an easy way to deny,
That the damage that has been done,
Is of her own doing.

Her body is getting older,
It’s getting harder to face the facts,
Though one thing’s for certain,
No more carelessness.

She owes it to herself,
To be the best she can be,
Inside and out,
Every breath she takes.

No more will she be hidden.
Come out,
Come out,
Where ever you are.

Lceel, having just returned home from an England tour, entered what he called a “half-assed effort”. I don’t know about the effort, but the result was clear and true.

How do I explore the word ‘hidden’? I ask myself, “What things are hidden?” Treasure. Treasure is hidden, else it is wealth. Motives. Motives are hidden lest we give up advantage. Truth. Truth lies hidden because to tell the truth exposes us to the judgment of others. Meaning. Meaning is obscured for the same reason, for to understand the meaning is to know the truth. Love. Love lies within, in our most secret places, wrapped in layers of obscured meaning, colored truths and camouflaged motives because love is the greatest treasure we own. When we spend it, we are exposed.

Sassy Mama Bear, another poet, joined the challenge for her second week with a piece on pain and secrets we all keep hidden away in our minds.

In the shadows of the mind where secrets often lie,
You may be intrigued by the hidden doors you will spy.

Dare not consider to touch the locks upon any door,
What lies behind, I wish to see no more.

Tucked away in the closets of my mind it should be,
The hurt, the pain, the shame you must not see.

Let the cobwebs take control and hide it all away,
May the memories that haunt never see the light of day.

Fear not that may escape and run free,
Always guarded by my soul and heart they will be.

Methinks the lady Judith Shakespeare doth make us laugh too much!

“Chocolates! It’s not my birthday, you know.”

“I know. I thought I’d do something special for you just because it’s Monday.”

“Oh, honey. These orchids are stunning!”

“…just because it’s Tuesday.”

“Yes, I’d love a back rub! Thank you!”

“…just because it’s Wednesday.”

“Did you clean the kitchen and fold the laundry?”

“…just because it’s Thursday.”

“A real restaurant? The kind that doesn’t offer booster seats? Really?”

“…just because it’s Friday.”

“Thanks for letting me sleep-in, love.”

“…just because it’s Saturday.”

“You know, this has been such a great week! Chocolates, flowers, back rubs…”

“Honey, can I buy a boat?”

Madame Meow was one cool cat with her “Hidden” submission. Do you see it?

However way in which one wants something to be seen, sometimes the only real way
In which one can truly be taken seriously in any absolute situation is a time when they
Deign to remain… unseen. Perhaps it is the quality of the mysterious and the unknown that
Draws the attention of so many. Perhaps it is the nature of the unseen to markedly
Embark on an adventure so great that to reveal it to the unprepared world would be
Not unlike casting pearls among swine. And what a true and great waste and crime that would prove to be.

I might get in trouble for bad words on my blog, but I met my next favorite Mommy Blogger in Mr. Lady. Anyone who names their blog “Whiskey in My Sippy Cup” is good in my book. If you don’t like the bad word, close your eyes, and then go yell at Mr. Lady cause I’ll be having none of it. I already live with two teenagers. I’m long past graduating from whiskey in my sippy cup. I go straight for the bottle now. (Just kidding Mom, no need for an intervention.) Also, make sure you click the link and read the back story on this one.

She sat around a table, sipping on stale coffee, nibbling on whole bran muffins made with applesauce instead of oil. Children squealed somewhere in the distance, but she hardly noticed; she was out, with adults, and she wore the smile that she forgot she had tucked in the back of her jewelery box.

She drew a deep breath, exhaled, and grinned. She finally could relax and just be with these new people in her life. Maybe the sunshine, or her determination, was calming her. Maybe it was just that, this time, she had the sense to wear a fucking cardigan.

Hehe.

Wow! Are you still here? Good, because there’s a whole other round to go. Last week, the challenge was “Spark”. Great word, spark. I always like to pair it with “stomp” in writing and have probably done so ten too many times. At least Woman Remodeled didn’t. But she did use that darn F word again, so now I’m probably going to get a bunch of Google hits for weird porn stuff from a bunch of pervs. Thankfully, I’ve done gone and put up some anti-pornography posts so that should bounce em right out of here. I digress. Here’s WR’s sparky submission!

A spark is something that I had. You have that spark, that something special. It is that jump-start that gets you moving with enthusiasm. It is that drive. It is the sex that you want to constantly have. It is that blind ambition that others envy. It’s fearlessly moving forward and being able to say FUCK IT I DON’T CARE, and really meaning it. It is having a little “Fuck You” in your soul. I had that spark. It is still there, deep inside buried by frustration and perceived struggle. My spark is emerging with the arrival of the future.

A sweet 100 Words on friendship from Secret Agent Mama:

Hey, thanks for meeting me today. This coffee’s good, isn’t it? I did wake up with a headache, but knew that we were going to see each other and it almost instantly cleared. I’ve missed you.

What’s new with me? Everything! Life is good. Sure I don’t have enough money to buy that new pair of shoes, but these shoes I’m wearing are still a good fit.

I know that life can sometimes get away from us, but we need to make more time for our friendship. I miss your spark, your zest, your smile. Let’s do this again. Soon!

Love is like this Sassy Mama Bear, yes it is.

Each morning I watch you, my heart aching as you drive away, turn the corner and start your day. I feel the pain that tears your soul as you face the drudgery, the hypocrisy, and the monotony.

Yet I know when you light that first spark, the metal pooling into a puddle of liquid magic, flowing forth, your eyes brighten, your heart flutters with a hidden passion quite deep. Your hands move the torch and from your actions great, useful things are made. Today it may just be another washer, but tomorrow it will be a work of magnificent art.

Sadie was looking to “spark” her creativity with the 100 Word challenge. Looks like it worked!

A darkened room, a flickering light, a whispered prayer, peace fills my soul. The white, the red, the blue and the green; each flickering along together. I sit and watch, absorb the peace, the few minutes I have on my own. Tomorrow brings more turmoil and upheaval, but tonight is mine.

I picture my family, and my friends, at peace, healthy and near me. Imagery is a powerful tool, and I dream of it working again.

Light dims not with a breath, but a lack of as I snuff out each light by hand. Tonight I will dream in peace.

Talk about spark, this girl’s got it going on! Judith Shakespeare, you are one sassafrass woman. But, I couldn’t get your blog to load! I’ll check back later. For now everyone, here’s the link. (Let me know how it was!)

Lceel, I just want you to know that quoting Joni Mitchell gained you MAJOR bonus points.

He approaches her door, his heart is thumping in his chest, the blood pounding in his head has faded his vision, his hand is trembling in anticipation. He is going to see her. Her touch is enough to make it hard for him to breathe, he grows faint at the slightest whiff of her scent; to kiss her is to suspend time as their lips brush each other, the softness of her expended breath on his lips leaves him unable to move lest he move too far away to feel it. He approaches. He has come to court and spark.

Wow! How about a round of applause for all the 100 Word participants? This week’s challenge is from my friend Laurie Ann Guerrero’s new book, Babies Under the Skin. I invited her to join the 100 Word challenge, but she’s too busy finishing up her next book! Check out a review from Smith College here.

Lips

Hoo boy. I don’t even want to know what Mr. Lady does with that one.

Good morning y’all.  This week’s challenge is

SPARK

Be back this evening with last week’s submissions.

No time to write as I spent the better part of this evening writing one paragraph for a work related article.  I just wanted to share that my 15 year old, during a tense family moment, ran to her room to get a text she had on the Buddhist Eight-Fold Path and started reading to me and her brother about “Right Speech”.

You go girl!

At the Dharma center that me and my children lived at for a year, there was an old rusted out jeep that sat in the parking lot, slowing rotting back into the earth. This is a picture of the windshield from inside.  At one time it had been a functional vehicle used to drive up the mountain trails to bring food and supplies to people staying in solitary retreat.  I’ve seen many friends come out of solitary retreat.  There is something different in their eyes.  A softness, an exquisite melancholy, a grounded joyfulness, a tenderness.

PHOTOHUNT 

In 1999 I read a small passage that would both dramatically and subtly forever alter my life’s path. In a small class at a local community college, I opened a textbook on World Religions and stared The Four Noble Truths in the face. They are, according to that text, as follows:

1. All life is suffering
2. The origin of suffering
3. The possibility of cessation of suffering
4. The eight-fold path - the “way out”

That is my translation as I remember it. I won’t expand on the meanings of those truths here because you didn’t come here for a lesson in my religion. You came here for a story. If you want to know more about the Four Noble Truths, I can point you in the direction of some very good books, or you can just use trusty old Google.

When I read the first Noble Truth, “all life is suffering”, I had what many would call an “enlightenment” experience. Reading those words, I felt all confusion instantly fall away and I was left with a clear “360 degree” mind. I felt like I could see the interrelatedness of everything past, present, and future. Yet to try to look at any one thing meant I would lose the clarity. It was so swift, so complete, and so…fleeting. For the first time in my life, I felt I had read something true. Truly true. Indisputable, clear, swift and complete. It was freeing, and joyful to read that “all life is suffering”.

“Strange,” you might think. How could such grim, damning words be translated into an experience of joy and freedom? At the moment I read the phrase, I couldn’t have possibly articulated why. Now I can try. It seems that questioning the meaning of our existence has been the curse of human consciousness, and what we seek in that meaning is comfort. We want to know that there is a reason for our being here; both the large “our” and the individual “our”. In short, we want to know that our suffering has some point. We also want to find comfort in thinking there is a reward for that suffering. The rewards we seek are the meaning we seek. The rewards we seek are joy, pleasure, and a final resting spot where there is no more suffering.

Thus, many of humanity’s great philosophies and religions gave us rules of what kind of suffering we ought to endure, and how, and then carefully laid out what our rewards would be in the here and now, and in the after life. I had struggled with all of these traditions, yet was never able to exactly pinpoint the illusions I couldn’t align to. To read that “all life is suffering” was freeing to me. It meant that I didn’t need to escape anything. I didn’t need to try anything. There was no judgement, no reason for judgement, and no “one” to judge. Life just simply was. Life was suffering, and the source of that suffering was that we were always trying to find a way out of that suffering.

It wasn’t grim to me. It was joyful. It seemed that I could suddenly see, and hear, and feel, and smell, and touch, and experience everything fully. I didn’t need a storyline. I didn’t need a reason. I didn’t need to interpret and determine whether my experience was something I wanted or didn’t want. It just was what it was. I had found the way out of suffering by just being.

That was then, this is now, and if you’re interested, I’ll tell you some more stories about my journey on the Buddhist path.

PHOTOHUNT

Happy Tuesday! Last week, thanks to the wildly popular Secret Agent Mama, we got some fresh blood for the weekly 100 Word Challenge! So let’s get right to “the point”, shall we?

Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will find them gradually, without noticing it, and live along some distant day into the answer. ~Rainer Maria Rilke

From Secret Agent Mama, who still boggles my mind with poetry written in 100 Words. Really Mishi, would you just cut that out?

How long has it been, dear?
Far too long, I fear.

I can still remember my first glance.
How we gave our friendship a precious chance.

I’ll never forget our laughter on that old couch.
For you I’ll always vouch.

How long has it been, dear?
Right now all I can think of is to jeer.

Fresh in my heart is sadness and pain,
I feel I’ve lost all that I’ve come to gain.

What’s the point of seeing you once more?
My heart is already way too sore.

How long has it been, dear?
Far too long, my dear.

I love how Judith Shakespeare only refers to “the point” in this classic little life tale.

“One mustn’t do that, love. It isn’t nice,” she says a tad absent-mindedly as she searches the shelves for the peanut butter. “Yes, yes, that’s good, dear,” she nods her encouragement at the chattering child. He goes on and on without really saying much at all. But it’s sweet and familiar, and she smiles. “Of course, mommy is listening,” she assures the Peter Pan and then the Nutella. “Uh huh,” she mumbles to the Skippy. Finally giving up on the idea of Jiff, she turns her attention to the little boy… and the finger that found what she could not.

Sassy Mama Bear, another new victim participant, also manages to weave 100 words into poetry. Sister…I hear you. Less stress is best.

I see it in the distance
just a simple glance

Not a light at the end
Maybe not even a friend

It stands guard to tell me
Open your eyes, see

It does taunt and tease
Promises to please

It leads us on a journey of stress
Something I need of, less

There is stands a beacon
And we just keep on seekin’

Where it leads we do not know
Follow we must, there we shall go

Follow they do our young ones
like we are their shining suns

The point means peace
At last a chance for final release.
~ Penelope Anne Bartotto
March 28, 2007

As always happens to me, my best writing is written in my head just as I drift off to sleep, and it is beautiful and perfect and inspiring. Then I wake up, forget the exact words in the rush of the day, and am forced to spit out something so much less than perfect and inspiring. Some day I will keep a recorder by my pillow, and I will whisper into it the perfect words that come to me as I slip into hypnagogic fantasy. Here are my 100 words.

We search our life maps, endlessly planning and reminiscing about where we’ve been and where we’ll go next. We hope to find the place where everything converges into one point, the summit of all our experiences and our lives. We look at a map to find our destination, but the map only tells us, “You Are Here”. The map never says, “You Will be There”. We can see where we’ve been, and plan where we want to go next, but we can never be anywhere but here, right now, on this very point. That is the point. Be here now.

This week’s 100 Word Challenge is from This Precious Life: Tibetan Buddhist Teachings on the Path to Enlightenment by Khandro Rinpoche:

Hidden

I had the incredible privilege of meeting Khandro Rinpoche about 7-8 years ago in a one-to-one meeting. “Audience” is what they call it. This is when you are granted the opportunity to sit with the teacher alone to ask questions. Some day I’ll tell you that story if you’re interested.

If you would like to participate in the Velvet Verbosity weekly 100 Word Challenge, the rules, such as they are, are here.