My stomach brews with a thousand storms,
it . is . still . August
3:00 a.m it wakes me up
it is not hunger, I don’t want a snack
I want the child in me to set aside the back pack
I want her to know that working hard is one way, but playing hard is an oxymoron
work hard, play hard. swipe left.
Why is is so difficult to engender ease and play in our day to day?
I wonder, I look back: who took that away?
& leveled fields
play hard, I cannot but laugh
baby your play should be serious, but play can not be hard
let her be easy
let her be silly
let her push out of your seams like the laughs too big for lungs
that crack open laughter, that leaves you clues of your native tongue.
Sometimes, when we learn an instrument.
like say a violin,
like every path to mastery
we come back.
learning notes, lines, sounds
the way your hands hold your instrument and the way it holds you
the way you tug on its strings
the smiles and sighs, the vibrations it brings
but, I read once that spiders become one with their web
the focus in their movement
the flow of creation, the repetition in ritual
the high pitch of intention: the intention to live
all of it comes together to extend their being
way beyond their eight corners and into the orb
The orb of their web
The spider is not just themselves anymore, but also that web
No, cognitive embodiment
That is the path out of
ultraviolet sensors for ultraviolet markers
they say “the sensory systems of many animals are tuned in to the parts of the world that are relevant to their lives. Bees… use ultraviolet vision to find flowers that have also evolved ultraviolet markings.”
but not every one will hear your song
sometimes we forget that my violin cannot read your piano bars
I promise though, to never force my tunes on you,
to cherish the notes that move the machine of your heart.
Sometimes you have to sing your song to yourself so loud, so long
it becomes all you hear
soon enough you stop recognizing other melodies, tunes, or genres
Let your world be your orb
Let your interiors be a no shoes household
no boots on your white rugs
you are responsible for the energy you bring
but do you bring yourself? or the bag in which you have been held?
have you ever slapped someone’s wrist as it climbed up your thighs?
or did they always make their way, is it that you are shy?
or that your limits were trampled on and your threshold is just that high?
did he touch me inappropriately or am I too much?
too much. go find less. ( CC Elyes Myres)
cognitive erosion, when you have to crawl so far back into yourself, you find yourself at the dot, teetering on top of a colon looking down. Down at that cliff.
Baby girl, let your big hands weave your rug
let her extend beyond your mom’s arm length
let your knees extend past your father’s foot-steps
Live within your means
but extend the meaning in your life
Stretch that web, let your rug grow in proportion to your heart
let her hold you and yours
the ones you have chosen
and let no boot, stiletto, or slider take comfort on your grounds
Stop repeating her apologies
stop defending your stains
making excuses for the marks and dents left by contorted bodies refusing to stretch
We forget that the fringe of a rug isn’t just a boundary
but also the extension of its skeleton.
Let your borders protect you from unraveling,
let every knot in your fringe hinder your enemies and never you dreams.
how much of you has been worn out by overstepping?
Where does yours end? where does theirs begin?
Playing tennis with what you think you owe
and what you think you deserve; is really just squash.
sweat it out
retire the racket
an let that wall be
you have other places to go, to see.
every wall you walk away from
is a door you are walking through
“No” sits well with ease, joy, and abundance.
don’t let them fool you.
You don’t have to express it, you just have to say it.
Don’t dance baby girl.
Just say it: NO
Spiders, orbs and cognitive extension
“If spider and web are working together as a larger cognitive system, the two should be able to affect each other. Changes in the spider’s cognitive state will alter the web, and changes in the web will likewise ripple into the spider’s cognitive state.” David Kaplan
The navel of the world: Omphalion