Liminal* space

Space opening up
a quiet “isness”
just being

Not yet being called
Learning to follow
the inner prompt

Not knowing the
“whys” behind
Experiencing

Letting the feelings
guide to a deeper
understanding

Trusting life’s
unfolding
of me

*A liminal space is the time between the ‘what was’ and the ‘next.’ It is a place of transition, waiting, and not knowing.

I’m aware things are shifting. It would be easy to live in my head, to not trust the urgings to explore. Yet, every time I pay attention to what I am experiencing and go where it leads, I end up freer.
Sometimes a belief or conclusion I’m carrying that is untrue and limiting surfaces. Sometimes I feel an inner urging to do something that doesn’t make a lot of sense to my mind. Sometimes later, I see what that experience gave me; sometimes I don’t.

Life is for us…We are given all we need to live fully and be who we are created to be. Sometimes the gift is clothed in a challenge, sometimes in a pretty box, and sometimes it’s living in liminal space.

Now

Can a cup of coffee
be a meditation?
Can I be so present
with the warmth of the cup
or the roasted smell of beans
that I let my self go?
let my Self be in this moment?

Living off the mat,
off that formal time of
emptying, noticing,
observing.
Can I stay present?

Can I welcome
what comes
through me?
Be awake enough to notice,
see, hear, feel it?
Would such a simple life
drag me into a cave?

Or would I burst out
into the world ablaze
with love?

For the past year, I’ve been asking the question: “Who am I now?” Now, without my husband and without my daughter (both of whom passed recently). Who am I without the roles, the relationships, and the love I’d known.

Recently it came to me: I’m asking the wrong question!
I’ve been seeking another story about who I am in the world, one I can slip-into and live comfortably in. One that would define me and pull me in from floating in space.

But a friend suggested the question was not necessarily about a new story. That the meaning would shift if I focused on the “now” part. Who am I now?

She was right. “Now” it changes with each second of time. It is not a constant but a flow. It’s not about coming up with a new a story about me but an awakening to what is.

So I’m playing with new questions, What am I experiencing now?, What do I want to express now? What am I led to do now?

For one who taught strategic planning, this is a bit different. But it feels right…at least for now.


Evolution of Self

Evolution of Self

Projection?
Validation?
Reflection?

We become
through others
ever more deeply
ourselves.

 

Written in response to a Medium Chalkboard Expresso (15 words or less) prompt by Harper Thorpe

December, 2018

“D” is for…

I used to check
my calendar
for names:

B for birthday
AN for anniversary–
triggers to send a card

to remember
how our lives
intertwine.

When did I start
putting “D” by names?
It’s aging they say,
loss is part of it.

But knowing doesn’t
soften the sharp edges
of the missing pieces.

“God fills the holes”
“Reinvent yourself”
“Time to turn inward….”

But I stare at the “D”s
and wonder….
overwhelmed

by the mystery,

the fragility,
the preciousness
of Life.

.

Perfection

[When we don’t like what is going on in our lives, around us….]

Perfection

What if where we are is exactly
where we’re supposed to be?

The result of past decisions and
beliefs we held so dearly as true…

It’s the chance for us to really look,
to see clearly what we’ve co-created

and choose differently.

Everything I react to is but a mirror
of the inner world I live in.

Reacting is seeded in fear,
my world, my self, what I care about
is threatened.

Only Love can respond anew.

Love can say “no, stop, enough”…
but love never loses itself in rage or fear.

Love knows the God spark
in every situation,
in everyone,
in me.

What if we are exactly where
we’re supposed to be?

Beginnings, Middles and Ends

“We think that the point is to pass the test or overcome the problem, but the truth is that things don’t really get solved. They come together and they fall apart. Then they come together again and fall apart again. It’s just like that. The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy.”—Pema Chodron

How can people
be so sure
where are we on
this continuum of life.

Those who think the
time is near, do they
stop seeing the rose
stop caring for the wild?

How vast is the universe
How vast must be its Creator.
Our stories cannot
hold the Infinite.

Still we separate, judge and vilify
in the name of our small truth.
While the One
who knows us best

gives us a new day.
Grace flows
Love beckons,
The Divine is patient.

The Red Shoe

[From a Poetry Workshop on Ekphrastic* writing given by Pauletta Hansel. The poetry challenge was to find a picture on the walls of The Essex Art Studios where the workshop was being held that called to us, and write a poem.   Here is mine.]

“Red Shoe”
Kevin T. Kelly
Serigraph 19″x19″
©2017

There was a time before…
before the guy selling lettuce
said “I don’t think of you
as an old person.”

A time when grey didn’t
dominate the landscape.
Mirrors meant a quick
combing, maybe some lipstick.

There was a time before
shoes became practical.
Memories burn of a time
when people noticed.

Where anticipation
of a steamy night
was just life.
There was a time before…

 

*Ekphrastic: This is a word from the Greek which means “one art form commenting on another.”

Acceptance or Need vs. Love

I need you
to love me!
The death knell of
of relationship.

It closes off
seeing the other,
kills the curiosity
the joy in difference.

Needing hardens
the heart already
damaged by wounds
long forgotten

Needing is fear in
disguise, a spiritual
hole we look to be filled
by someone out there.

Accepting the loss
the familial love
we never had
frees us

Only then
can I love you
without demands that
you be anything but who your are.

Whose life?

It has a will to live
popping up everywhere
in the lawn

light yellow-green
calling attention
to itself.

I pull them out
but more pop up
not to be defeated.

One pull had good roots.
It  sits in a pot
on my counter.

I say it’s to identify it.
But maybe it’s just
a symbol of Life.

Something that
wants to be,
that has its own world.

Parallel lives
driven by a life force
seeking expression.

Embracing it all

I didn’t expect the anger
Memorial Day
I finally got it
I was alone
I didn’t like it.

I was surprised
thought I was done
moving forward,
instead was pushing
down what I hated.

Anger
irrational
beneath me.
I removed myself
slightly, from life

Denial can’t coexist
with life, pulls you away.
I starting dropping things
worrying about decisions
blind to the growing congestion.

Until I could feel….I’m angry,
and just let it be – no more, no less.
Experiencing life
simply as it is,
Enjoying the ride.