It’s been a long day

If just looking could be so satisfying, why was I always striving to have things or to get things done? Certainly I had never suspected that the key to my private reality might lie in so apparently simple a skill as the ability to let the senses roam unfettered by purposes. I began to wonder whether eyes and ears might not have a wisdom of their own.

~ Marion Milner, A Life of One’s Own (First Published, 1934)


Notes:

Saturday Morning

It’s a gift, this cloudless … morning
warm enough to walk without a jacket
along your favorite path. The rhythmic shushing
of your feet through fallen leaves should be
enough to quiet the mind…

The rising wind pulls you out of it,
and you look up to see a cloud of leaves
wheeling in sunlight, flickering against the blue
and lifting above the treetops, as if the whole day
were sighing, Let it go, let it go,
for this moment at least, let it all go
.

~ Jeffrey Harrison, from Enough

 


Notes: Poem from Poets.org.  Photo: niaz uddin (Eastern Sierra Mountains)

 

Flying Over I-40 E. And I want what I want…

3:45 am:  Alarm.

4:50 am:  DFW Airport.

6:05 am:  Boarding.

6:40 am:  Wheels up and over the pre-dawn lights of Dallas. Sunrise blazing orange on the horizon.

The National’s new album “Sleep Well Beast” has been playing on a loop for days now.  And, for 6 hours last night, the Beast did sleep well with the aid of two shots of Advil PM. For a man who swore off all forms of artificial assistance, I’m pumpin’ it now. Screw insomnia. I’m making the trade: Zombie for Woozy. A few moments of lucidity in exchange for Anne Michael’s black earth breathing its winter breath…And so far, so far, it’s workin’…

But let’s be a bit more precise, it’s not the album that’s been on a loop but “Empire Line“. I seem to sit, kneel and stand to this anthem with the mind parsing and plaiting the lyrics that burn the groove:

You’ve been sleeping for miles / So what did you see? / Here the sky’s been falling white flowers…/ Can’t you find a way? / Can’t you find a way? / And I want what I want / And I want everything / I want everything.

We climb to 35,000 feet and the giant steel bird levels out. [Read more…]

Saturday Morning

ear-pale

How are you?
Silence again.
Fine, fine, I mumble, fine,
unraveling like string…

Sandra Cisneros, from “Drought” in My Wicked Ways: Poems


Notes:

Saturday Morning

sleep-dream-jpg

What I see in dreams
makes me breathe
shallow
like golden trout
floating just beneath
the skin of water
warmed by
late autumn’s
ticklish light

~ M.J. Iuppa, opening lines to “Something Brief, But Bright,” Small Worlds Floating: Poems

 


Notes: Art Source: mennyfox55. Poem Source: Memory’s Landscape

Saturday Morning

cat-stretch-fall-autumn

Complete relaxing never happened all at once. I found that it was a matter of at least five or ten minutes before the body would reach a profound repose. So I made a rule for myself, that as long as I felt an impulse to get up or turn over, then I had not lain long enough, but as soon as I felt I had never wanted to move again, then it was all right to get up at once. But I usually did not, I lay still for a little longer, lay still, while all the cells of my body came alive, like parched earth after rain. And then I discovered the most fitting end to my rest – a long cat-like stretch, which leaves one so at peace with the world, smooth and shining like wet sands, that it is worth indulging in deliberately, even when not prompted by a natural impulse.

~ Marion Milner, A Life of One’s Own (First Published, 1934)

 


Notes:

T.G.I.F.: the chatter of blind effortful thought

balloon-tgif-let-go

People had often told me to ‘let go’ more, to give myself up to music or impulse, or rest, and I had always thought it meant a passive plunging in to the oblivion of my blind thought. But always, when given its head, my blind thought had carried me away into hot, fussy anxieties or long-winded scheming for things it wanted, some plan or another which would not let me rest. And this state had spread from my mind to my body, so that my muscles were always taut with the effort to get what I wanted. Now, however, when I had at last learnt the restraining act which was real ‘letting go’, the chatter of blind effortful thought dwindled from an exhausting distraction to the far-away twitter of sparrows high up in the eaves.

~ Marion Milner, A Life of One’s Own (First Published, 1934)

 


Notes:

It’s been a long day

fly-wind-free

One day I’ll fly away
Leave all this to yesterday

~ Moulin Rouge! (2001), dir. Baz Luhrmann


Notes:

Saturday Morning

float-cross-dive-water-peace

I’m begging for stillness.
For calm at the centre of the storm.
When the dawn comes, let it bury me;
let it swallow me whole.

~ Michelle Tudor, from Excerpt


Photo: Ed Freeman with “Underwater” (via Precious Things)

It’s been a long day

hair-red

Beyond ambition,
beyond attainment,
is home.

Contentment,
without content;

peace,
uncaused.

—A.H. Almaas, Ripening of the Soul


Notes:

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