Bip

A special memory I would like to share with you…

He was truly delightful and made me giggle a lot, but mostly I was awestruck by his performance, watching from the wings. His old mate Rudolf was there too and I met him, but I did not understand the significance of that until this whole event was a distant memory.

I sometimes tell people I grew up on the stage, but they can’t picture what I mean until I share with them the odd memory such as this. It is possible to be both very open with people and deeply secretive. I am.

marcel-bipObviously he inspired my blog photo. More importantly this memory represents something about me that I have never let anyone mess with. It is elusive, it is not “on-call” nor greatly on display, but it points to my very essence, to what has proved consistent throughout the years. It lives at the wellspring of my joy.

As a small child, I discovered one of the best ways to guard something intangible is to never let it descend into the realm of language, whether it be spoken, written or thoughts/mental dialogue. I can mention this now because, like a tree that has already grown, I have already taken form.

Everything about me that deviates from this natural course is merely a performance in some way related to survival. Do not judge your inconsistencies. After a couple of years of investigating “the shadow” and allowing it to come into the light, as it were, I can honestly say that it was/is chock full of really good stuff. After the initial shock and displeasure, I find it is the place where so many wonderful, unique and heartfelt aspects of me are born, live and die, only to be reborn again.

If, even for one minute, you’ve ever thought you have spare parts to who you are, things that could be improved about your basic nature, I beg to differ. You only have things that could be discovered and embraced about your basic nature. Everything else is just a performance.

Obviously I am not composing a Dummies Guide to Being A Conformist in this life.

marcel-autograph

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Bizarre notions in polarity

It’s bright, so glaringly bright! Winter’s slipped
as day tumbles forth from night. Creatures dipped
in bronze melt all through my sight. Myna skipped
the fresh-cut grass, catching flight, as clouds wisped
past swathes of blue-tinted light. Ice-wind crisped
breaths healed by Ra’s molten might! Three ants nipped
across the page I’d soon write, darted, tripped
and fell to earth: a great height. Moods have flipped
from tight-clenched fists to delight. Beings tipped
from low to high, wrong to right. Minds equipped
with nature’s gift for insight.  Honey-dripped
days, praise! Loop this bliss-tinged plight with no script.

Cue: the wind

The wild weather
And the wild woman
Have boarded the same train

I am spirit
I am here, deal with it
I’ve kept things gentle for too long now

Everything rests
Everything is supported
Everything continues, each to it’s own nature

The whispering sounds
The roar and rhythm
The drawing of breath, embodiment of truth

I know, it can be a bit too much
A bit too powerful
A bit too chunky, bless their hearts

The forgivers
The aligners
The deniers. Let them flounder.

The sun shines
Water is wet
I am here, be with it.

 

The fire that won’t be tamed

particularly attuned to suffering
there are brief moments
when the world unites
with my everyday

returning to the joy that seems to
arise out of nowhere special
naturally, you say,
when one dreams in polarities

aligned with peace
there are also strange mechanisms
of balance; but I don’t know
how to show you that

the more it hurts
the more joy there is
waiting to be expressed
by all of us

a life that is fuelled
by the dynamics of living
is like tending a fire that
cannot be extinguished

it has it’s own momentum

Original

I can’t tell you about my origins
Only that I was conceived
Not consciously of course
Far less unique than original

Forty-eight years ago today
For my next mother’s birthday
A smiling black doll with no demands
The most original gift in town

There was a point; still at the hospital
When I gave up on crying out
For a mother, for food, for comfort
Ever so quietly, I took up waiting

For the longest time I believed
That my time in space would come
That patience could guard and sanctify
The original state of my being

I have never understood why
My birth was such a catastrophe
Centred in the secret/hidden place where
Light lives; I feel like a miracle

Ideals lapsed, hard truth took flight
So that I may live this one life
Intent on her original purpose
Nature offers no apology

She offers a prayer instead
Before sin there was joy
Before devastation there was love
You are one of my originals. Be you.