Monday, February 4, 2013

Ghost Inside

Yeah, it's not new, but I'm really quite taken with this song. I heard it for the first time this weekend as I was driving back from a ski day and have had it on repeat ever since. I'm always amazed by artists who sound just as good (or better) live as they do on their records.   James Mercer of The Shins heads the band Broken Bells, singing what is now one of my favorite tunes.

Thursday, January 31, 2013

The Invitation

It doesn't interest me. . . I want to know. 

And just like that, I was drawn in.  I think this poem, the one you're (hopefully) about to read, is one of the most beautiful things I have read, to date.  I saw a snippet of it on Wily Brunette and then discovered there was even more.  It's lengthy, so I selected the parts that resonated with me the most, and upon the second or third reading, I realized it was becoming a list of sorts.

A list of what I want, or aspire to want.  But more importantly, a list of who I want to be--an invitation to become.


It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain. I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.

I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.

I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes.”

It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.


Friday, October 5, 2012

Possibility Intoxicating

--as we circled the fountain, an elderly couple appeared at the gate of the courtyard.

The man called out, "You can jump in if you want to, I won't tell anyone."

He approached. "Where are you from?  Are you two married?"

"We just met," he replied.

I liked that, 

The absence of denial. 

In the balmy night air, the fleeting taste of

Possibility, intoxicating.