A Life of Wonder

This morning, a text appeared on my phone.  CNN sent it.  I’ve requested text updates from them like this before; however, this update caught me off-guard. It simply said, “Box cutter used to called Massachusetts teacher….”

First, it states this alarming fact as news, without emotion, which is to be expected. Second, it provides no context for the update. If I hadn’t been following the story, and the only thing I saw on the murder was this, how alarming and unreal this update would be. Third, it appeared without any consideration to my state of mind or what I was doing at that given moment. I could have been running to catch a call, pick up a friend from an airport, mourn a lost pet, or eat breakfast. It entered my world, and cut right through it, leaving this violent image in its wake.

I did sign up for these little intrusions. Oddly enough, they make me feel more connected to the world around me. I seem to crave facts and to be among the first to know. What I find shocking is how this little context was presented, like a head severed from its body, this detail was removed from its context.

Read Full Post »

Gnarled trees, originally uploaded by N. Lee the Adequate.

I just read this article on CNN that discussed a suicide note that a US soldier, suffering from PTSD, left behind. One of the soldiers dreams was to move to a milder climate, like Seattle, rather than the heat of Arizona. This moved me because of its lack of grandeur. His dream wasn’t “I want to win 1 billion dollars or play in the Super Bowl.” It’s a practical dream with grounded by a desire to improve an every day situation.
Recently, I’ve been surrounded by people with huge, buzz-word dreams the size of winning the Nobel Prize or changing the political direction of a country for the better. While those are valuable, this solders note, haunted by memories of war, made me appreciate the smaller dreams I occasionally overlook.
In that spirit of smaller dreams, here’s a few of mine:
1. Write and share poems more frequently, and maybe perform a few
2. Interview, on camera, people close to me asking them questions about their life and mine
3. Teach a short story to children or adults in a way that brings it to life
4. Have a picnic with friends in the summer
5. Conduct a “teach-in” on a cause a small group of people I like care about and invite friends to share their perspectives
6. Listen mindfully as a part of my own spiritual practice
7. Write a letter and make CDs for people I care about (high school throw back).
8. Host another Rubber Chicken event

There is a list just as important as a bucket list, and this list is filled with the choices we face every day. By being aware of these small dreams and taking advantage of them, so much potential & happiness can be unlocked.

Read Full Post »

The kaleidoscope broke near the lighthouse.
Its colored snow dances everywhere.

My hands transform into the hands of a child
your eyes become the eyes of your parent

why do I become younger and you older,
every time the world falls apart?

On this birdless night I ask you,
“why did you scold?”

Your face betrays your answer.
It’s the face of your mother:
Sharp brows, tight lips, squinting, you reply,
“you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I walk on the rocks, glitter in the air.
You look a the sea.
“Waiting for a wave?” I ask.
“No,” you say.

The kaleidoscopes snow rises with the wind.
“Beautiful.” I say.

For a moment we agree.
-ZJB

Read Full Post »

Delaware River Fog, originally uploaded by Bob Jagendorf.

In the morning when the fisherman

climb into their boats like tombs covered in fog

headed into the river,

I too wish to join them there.

Mother says when I am grown

the fog will part for me

and in the great blue waters I will find

more fish than I can carry

In the river all moves slowly

the ripple of the birds landing on the surface

awakens me

but not the fishermen who are still.

I have asked you to join me at the base of this tree

its ancient twists know the enchanted fog

“I am afraid of the tombs floating in the sea,” You tell me.

“But it’s a river, not the sea,” I say.

Tomorrow I will climb into the river

Tomorrow I will hide in the tombs floating through the fog

Tomorrow a fisherman may find me and

not understand this love for you

or the fisherman that grows inside of me.

Read Full Post »

“we can call ourselves more human doings than human beings.” – Professor Kabat-Zinn

I’m learning more about mindfulness practice. For me it means being exquisitely attentive to the present without judgement. This practice has many exercises designed to enhance the senses. They range from mindfully eating: more slowly, aware of each bite, its flavor and texture to mindful walking: noticing the breath, the position of your feet as you walk, the experience of moving, the experience of standing still, and when you slow down and when you speed up. These are just a few examples of the practice. Mindfulness has a rich heritage of both Eastern and Western, and they interact beautifully.

This way is mysterious practice to me, and I will endeavor to explore it for the rest of my life. As a famous doctor specializing in mindfulness says above, it’s about learning to “fall awake,” rather than fall asleep.

As I read more and learn more, I like the ideas about being compassionate to yourself and of recognizing differences in being and doing. Doing comes naturally to me. I even pride myself on being able to “get things done.” It’s the being that I am working on and cultivating a capacity to “simply be” without judgement. It’s my intention to share with you key insights I discover along the way. I would love to hear your questions and learn from your experience too.

Xo,
Z
If have felt most mindful when writing poetry. I may continue the practice with that in mind.

Read Full Post »

Candle for Damini-RIP, originally uploaded by ramesh_lalwani.

Like you, I was deeply horrified by the gang rape in Delhi which took place a few months ago. I wrote this poem inspired by that day.

Delhi 5
My dear daughter

Your heart cannot hold the story of this moonless midnight
when nation hide
the bus rode
and evil men made pig noises
with cold metal and warm flesh

My dear daughter
they will ask why the nation hide
they will ask
when she lay on the sidewalk, did she see eyes or shoes?
They will ask why so many averted their eyes

My dear daughter
there are things I will not tell you about that night
I simply cannot
things i do not want you to know
things your heart cannot hold

Let the prayers of children guide you
Let the ancient song of mothers and daughters protect you

Always remember when we did not know her name
And she was our daughter too

Always remember when we hid from our daughter
And she was our daughter too

You will ask me about that day
I was not there
And It is forever with me

Read Full Post »

nuances, originally uploaded by paul bica.

Answer this sacred call.
Respond to notes you have never heard but know so well in a place beyond your memory.
Be called forth, arise, come into stillness from the midnight’s air, come into form.
-ZB

Read Full Post »