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The Outside and the Inside are Inseparable

As I am haunted by the events that occurred late Sunday afternoon, I struggle not to feel robbed myself. The reactions of one student who was followed inside a yoga studio that I attend and work at by a lone gunned man, versus the reactions of another student who was mugged by the same man outside the studio appear on opposite ends of a spectrum. I can only make sense of it by writing about it and putting it out of my mind. We'll call her Cindy, was a young lady perhaps in her mid to late 20s who because she was immediately consoled by the other students caught off guard in the lobby by the incident- was pleasantly calm and seemed just glad that he was gone. When I approached her with a glass of sweet reddish kombucha, she welcomed it with a smile still standing in the classroom beside the spot where she had been held up for her car keys. She was not shuddering as I had half expected, but surprisingly collected. Later I found out from the teacher who had dropped down on her ...

Aliveness

S igh, surrender to sanity To sorrow, to suffering, to sacred. Shake success Sounds like I am. Sane, safe, sonorous. Smokes and mirrors snake my seeing Steal sometimes with 'shoulds' and 'should nots' Shhhhhhhhhhh she says. Surround your soul Allow source to surmount To flood these shallows Shift sight from sins that separate ourselves . Return to her. When in search to shoulder the pain Be still in thine center Slowly steep into the deep Open wide by sound For meaning makes our purpose.  

Dont call attention to it but Your Life Matters

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The other evening after a magnificent poetry performance by some friends of ours, I received a great compliment from a elder whose infectious mirth I admire . He described how much he appreciated my presence at his musical event the other eve (tho insisted I must watch his video that included his solo performance which I'd missed) and that although he has not known me for a long time, he finds a love, a universal love that transcends all with knowing me.    I was stunned. I faltered to admit yet still opened my mouth, flowing out that I had been struggling to feel I had anything to offer. He looked me with quiet surprise and seriousness. I have rarely seen this boisterous, laughing soul social butterfly look quite that serious as he weighed the intent of my words. I instantly felt embarrassed and held back from explaining what I meant, now wanting to seem ungrateful for his praise.    But Baba Ratu seemed to understand. He solemnly spoke very n...

The Development of The Grove and the Plight of Independent owned business in St. Louis

I'll start off by declaring I am not a business owner in St. Louis but am speaking as a frequent patron of independent business and as a community organizer that has observed this city for the last 6 years as a resident and activist. This paylot situation annoys me and amplifies the politics that has long existed in the city. When you drive down long stretches of city blocks with ample meter parking, largely unused during the day- it makes you wonder, why would the city create more paylots or more parking lots period. But then you'd have to wonder why St. Louis is still in recovery from a recession that happened over 50 years ago and was further worsened by the flight of the white middle class to the county which left in its wake, abandoned buildings, unemployment and poverty. When you factor in that this city's politicians come from political dynasties that are either themselves from Old Money, in bed with Old Money or in the pockets of corrupt corporations owned by O...

Be Still, Have Peace

Stillness in my mind Peaceful in your heart. Like the waves that crash to shore- Smoothing rocks until they are sand Refines the delicate textures Of so many different tinted seashells. We endure the storms that erupt and allow them to cascade off our surface back into the ocean. We wait for the calm to return Knowing we'll have choppy seas again. We are still in our minds Peaceful in our hearts. - In Memory of Maya and Martin; Peacemakers through their Voices

Seeing Windows

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Whether I am counseling someone in crisis or I am editing footage that I've taken with my camera, I realize that as different as they can be- it's the stories that I'm caring for and making known, creating windows for others that need a way to see the value of these stories, in order to recognize their true depth.  These days, rather than feeling as though I am pulled in too many different directions I feel as though the various facets of my life and work are finally synthesizing in a way where I can be at most ease in the beauty of the process and the influence of what I do. That is a very new sensation, this feeling of somehow satisfaction in my abilities because, it wasn't always so.     Fear is a funny thing. It can possess you so that you never know what you're actually afraid of because you never look at it directly in it's ugly face. Sometimes fear is imposed upon you, often children and vulnerable adults are the most at risk for this because of how ...

songs from the other side

Zip-codes of tainted biographies news of grief. The noise of helicopter causing green leaves to quiver like tissue paper. My heart leaps in  and out- Playing double dutch  with my soul's trust. She speaks of meeting her maker when she's lost too many already Laying out her next day's outfit For the time is near.