A harvest poem I harvested from a recent lovely circle in FL. It may not be true, but it is how I remembered it. The circle was hosted deliciously by Holly Masturzo. Literally — the talking piece was a FL orange. It was on the last day of a four day Art of Hosting training on Applied Practice in Change Leadership. This was a check-in circle, a circle of beauty, honesty, tenderness — human beings together in deep friendship and work. Each phrase takes me back to those who spoke and to the feeling of community and the commitment to work in a way that matters.
What is Ripe in You?
To the deeper essence — no pretence.
Embraced in the gravitational field.
Thanks and love to fierce Finn.
In and out at the same time.
With courage to live in the question without looking over my shoulder.
Embodied redemption — no exemption.
In heart, soul, body — living in the transforming.
I’m ripe in my silence. In beauty, churning and learning.
Hearing the Indian man chanting, I’m ripe for gravity.
I’m opening another aperture through hugs from my friends, and speaking my language,
knowin’ seeds, deeds of the heart.
Becoming me in becoming you.
Juuuuiiiicccyyy as Jiiiilllllll are these seeds.
I have people. I have people.
Greetin’ the next century breathing.
I’m a councilor but never thought the group could be so powerful.
Wow! What is this? Hmmm.
There really is power in the group and the people every day.
Sweet, the treat, feelin’ a day in two minutes.
Profound intimacy in the circle of meeting anew.
Cookin’ — ready to nurture in my family and in my self.
Lookin’ at Lina and seein’ it grow.
It? Shit! It? Friendship. Friendfull.
I’m missing my wife today. You remind me of her.
We so desparately need to bring the divine feminine, restoring wholeness, in men and women.
There is no wonder in the problem. I’m shifting to the dream.
The dream in the team of bigger, bigger, bigger.
As people laugh, I stretch my listening.
Even when I can’t hear, I see the glistening
of the blue sky and the simplicity of the rain.
Possibility is ripe. No hype. Keepin’ it in sight
this journey of being human, being spirit
renews my wonder to keep goin’, to keep seein’.
Sucked in as a newbee. Who knew!
New words embracing me as I cry out my sharing in this real world.
Tiiime for this girl to start swimmin’
in my joy and in my sadness.
My motion is to the ocean — being me. The gift of being me.
The utter beautiful power of love to create
at the core of the soar.
In the whiff of orange oil, I now know things I never heard of 15 years ago.
I’m holdin’ the course, even through broken teeth in the mountains and rivers.
Not just me. Remindin’ of my unity in community.
Hmmm. No words to give for this gift.
This looking in your eyes to the skies
of hope and all that is possible.
Willin’ to laugh and wiggle.
Keep practicin’. Keep learnin’. Even in the turnin’.
With people, I’m practicin’ being curious.
At Hope Community Center, we know what are people suffer from.
We know about living in the past and the present.
We can stop that in our presence.
I was invited here. To find out about others that are building like this.
To inspire and conspire.
I’m happy. Followin’ my heart, my part in the start.
What keeps coming is courage — time for me to show up.
I’m into the stuff that isn’t sexy. That’s sexy.
I’m not always drawn to the flesh and the juice.
But I am drawn to what feeds me, to what seeds me.
Just the rind.
I’m offering a piece. Without lease.
Back to my start of the dolphin.
Maybe I’m ready to get out of the chaos.
I’m back.
And I’m ripe now.
Through my heavy load, seein’ this place in my core that is spotted and has me not breathin’.
I’m into the space, into the space.
Breathin’ hurts.
Breathin’ helps.
Keep breathin’.
Keep showin’ up.
