Unexpected joys during 2020 - by Brittiney George

For what are you most grateful as you look back over the year and why? Laughter, space, and real connection. The things that were the shoulds held so much less weight. It felt like an opportunity to really question and choose where and what you put your energy into. 

What did you take for granted this year? How hard this has been for others that don't have the resources and support available to them.   

What did this reveal to you about yourself and your presence in the world? How strong joy and hope live within my body and that when things feel like they are falling apart, it is the beacon that I can share with the world. I can be present with pain because I respect it and know the other side of it so viscerally. 

What new hobby or old pastime did you take up or revive during the months of lockdown? Puzzling and wonder/wander walking-not to burn calories or to get somewhere but for the pure joy of noticing the world around me. 

Was there an unexpected joy that you experienced during this time? Looking up.  The wonders of trees, leaves, the sound of birds, meteors, and stars.  I found out my house is between the big dipper and Orion’s belt. How have I lived here for 10 years and never noticed that? 

What is the most important thing that the year of Covid 19 has taught you? When you go barreling through life you miss so many magical moments and that we have one job in this world, to take care of the hearts of those we are with. We don't have to get it right, but we do have to take care. 

 

The Miracle of the Actual by Dean Solon

he is more interested in science.  perhaps.  i am more interested in people.  perhaps.
we are the same.
he dropped acid hundreds of times.  i did lsd once.
we can see for miles and miles and miles.  we are the same.

when i started to write, it was with an intention to write space fiction.  inner space fiction.
and i write space fiction, with a poetry, with words of peace and love and mercy.
he writes space fiction, of a different sort, in a different way.
each of us in a fever dream.
we are the same. 

nothing is the same as it was forty years ago.
nothing is the same as it was a moment ago.
words passing like clouds across the big sky.
each of the seven billion of us, breathing in and breathing out, with craziness inside.
a touch of craziness.
a touch of wisdom.
a touch of possibility
riding on the wind, everchangingly
the same
as it was a moment ago.

we believe we need the Word to awaken
when we need nothing but this moment
to awaken.

the miracle of the actual.
it always surprises.  

Allowing Space by Dean Solon

a week ago a sitting-in-circle at the resiliency center.  am remembering now we may have come to a way of unraveling the seeming puzzles and paradoxes of living in this world:  with an allowing of space.

sitting comfortably and with ease.
closing your eyes.
allowing your body to be at rest
and your breathing to be natural.
easing into spaciousness, into expansiveness.
relaxing in this openness.

the world arising, in this moment, as always it has been, and is, arising...
in the deepest within, the most infinite beyond.

no one sitting, nothing happening.
you sitting, you happening.

you sitting, with an allowing of space...

allowing space for joy           allowing space for grief

allowing space for confusion          allowing space for clarity

allowing space for petulance          allowing space for surrender, allowing space for acceptance

allowing space for whatever arises unfolds and reveals

allowing space for anything
allowing space for everything

an all-inclusive path.

Grieving by Dean Solon

am thinking of all the people who come and go, who perform on stage and make their [un]timely exits.  to applause and-or to silence.  i miss the now not-visible, and let them be[come] not-here now. 

each a contributor, an actor, an actress, in a passion play.  i weep, i laugh, i am quiet, am quiet.  am doing my best, am not-wrestling with God.

nebulae swirl around my head.
oceans swim around my heart.