c h r i s l y n l a w r e n c e

august 6, 2023

religion is the greatest enemy,
not people.
for if what we call god made all people,
every single kind of living blessed thing,
and man made religion…

it stands to reason
that your devotion to man-made religion
instead of a devotion to all the mystical precious creations of god
is the real problem plaguing humanity.

for it is your religion that’s confused sunday worship
with daily praise
confused condemnation
with conscience
and confused a single version of what love is or
is not, with the true possibilities of love.

look around you. get up and look out the window or the door and see all the blessed things of nature - all the sizes and colors and shapes the symmetry and asymmetry the living and dying and living again and try to understand your version of what’s real or true is too narrow.

it is skewed. it is man-made - that’s why you can’t tolerate anything but your version.
because real divine humanity is multi-layered, multi-faceted.

look at all the ways of living and ask yourself how could a god who made all of life on earth or the multiverse then demand of us that there is only “one true way” and that you are right and everyone else is wrong who doesn’t walk your exact path.

exalt that.
exalt that there are many paths under one brilliant creation and as we walk on our various paths we still walk together. praise that truth.
praise that brilliance.

you are not alone. we are not alone,
as you walk your own way, and i walk mine.

religion is the true enemy of god

the dogma
judgment
fear
condemnation
persecution
shame

not jesus.

not buddha.

not mohammad.

not pagans.

not sinead.

not other people who challenge your beliefs -

but religion, itself, is the enemy.

root it out and become ONE.

may 28, 2022

"power means nothing in a world without love. don't you see? don't you see? don't you see."

wouldn't it be something to leave a legacy of healing to your children and grandchildren
instead of a legacy of shame and fear.

this is where i am today. here's the ramblings of my heart on this the 28th day of may, in the year 2022, when so far there have been 27 school shootings this year and last year there were 693 mass shootings and instead of dealing with this gun problem we spend money and energy going to mars and building even bigger weapons and more prisons and building walls, and instead of regulating assault rifles they are working like hell to take away women's rights to their own bodies and lives.

i'm tired. i'm gutted. as a woman and a super sensitive human, i'm so fucking tired of feeling so sad

i believe the gun obsession in america comes directly from our ancestors. but not just because of the 2nd amendment, although its creation is part of the Why. this disillusioned obsession is generational, and more heightened now than ever before because the trauma has never been addressed, and because folks are more afraid now than ever before, thanks to fox news and politicians profiting from fear.

we (white folks) have always internally feared that the violence we inflicted on others in our founding days would one day come back to get us. and it has. but not by the hands of those we oppressed and murdered - it's by and by from our own trembling white hands. guns have now become the #1 leading cause of death for american children and teens, while the white owned gun industry is monstrously rich, the white bred GOP protects and profits from guns, and the majority of mass shootings are done by white men.

we are dying a violent death and we are a nation built on violence. coincidence? our generational wounds are so deeply buried, in hiding now in places where words fail and tears pour, but cease to bring calm. and they are killing us, killing our children and kililing their futures. until we wade deep into the water and address and heal our wounds and the wounds of others who have suffered from the violence of patriarchal white supremecy, there is no end in sight. until we transform the trauma brought on by the sins of the forefathers of this experimental nation, and those that followed who built an empire from rivers of blood and watered their crops from the tears of black people enslaved and native people murdered and betrayed, until we learn to face and reckon with those sins which were packaged as freedom, we will continue to destroy and kill each other and the planet. we humans are on a course for total destruction (Americans are leading the way and winning at this part, like we so love to do). this armageddon isn't ordained by god. it's ordained by white violence and a total lack of regard for the sanctity and sacredness of all living people and creation.

to alter our course we (white people) must prioritize the transformation of our shame, the shame and terror of white supremacy and the pain it has inflicted, into radical love and actionable change internally and externally. we will never ever alter the course of destruction we are bound for if we don't address our bloody, painful past.

our whole nation and way of life was built upon others' suffering.
the train of violence left the station a long long time ago.
it's careening now, screeching, smoking, but still roaring down the tracks. and it too is tired. we are all so tired.
do we have the will to stop it?
are we prepared to face the TRUTH? are you ready to ACCEPT the truth and start building something better?

to get to the heart of the matter, we need to recognize the real root problem and create spaces and communities that atone and make reparations. the means to a peaceful end is only possible through healing and love not more guns and fear.

we have a rage problem. we have a mental health problem. we have a social media problem. we have a hatred of women problem. we have an addiction problem. we have a god problem. (you really think god is in favor of the NRA or turning away homeless asylum seekers??) we had, have, and will continue to have a violent white supremacy problem, unless we face it, reckon with it and cast it out. and we have a gun problem.

mass shootings and schoool shootings happen no where else on earth the way it does here. Americans are literally on a killing spree. we have to regulate guns. we have to regulate and ban assault rifles. but until we finally face the generational wounds that got us here, those shameful ones buried and posturing as pride and aggression, as racism and fear, ultimately the killing will not stop.

honest discussions need to happen inside our homes and churches. especially in white homes and churches, and then also with others from different races and religions to face their pain and work on that other cycle of healing through intersectionality. deep cathartic healing is necessary and it is still possible, but it can only come when we are honest about the problem. will we be that brave? Will we speak up and ask the difficult questions? will we root out our own shame and the fear born of it and demand gun regulation and prioritize the safety of others over the individual right to carry the biggest swiftest gun you can get your hands around? what a freaking travesty that some believe all those guns make them "free."

wouldn't it be something to leave a legacy of healing to your children and grandchildren
instead of a legacy of shame and fear.

will you do something uncomfortable and face your truest deepest fear and find out where it came from? Then work to heal it? or will you and the rest of the silent majority do nothing, once again, and continue down the track watching it play out on our phones, blame others, and ring our hands silently raging and screaming, and praying, while changing nothing until one day it's your own child killed by a gunman, or your grandmother shot dead at walmart.

will we hope for better or will we demand it.

i feel broken, but i still believe in a world where love truly saves us. i just don't know if we will be a part of the saved world or not… honestly, i have been meditating on whether or not this firey end is simply what is necessary for the rest of the planet and all beautiful creation to live peacefully in a state of love, instead of violence. maybe it is? either way, i will keep trying to heal and to love.

not looking for a debate here. just voicing my thoughts out loud because sometimes having a vessel to hold them helps. and if there is anyone out there is this void who has never been in favor of gun reform before, but you are now, and you need someone to talk to... reach out. we are not meant to do this alone.

xo c

(quote at the top is from the song New Year's Eve by Joe Purdy)

feb 5, 22

sometimes I can't see the forest for the trees. I get too busy admiring each one and then investigating, every inch. "Oh look at that one over there, the tallest one beside the dead one, do you see that bird? Is something wrong with it? oh shit, I think it's badly injured(!!)…. oh and that one over there, it’s about to fall!!"

I notice and then absorb things that others sometimes don't see, or feel, yet. And then I overanalyze and overwhelm details to overcome, which don't even exist yet. I push myself into hell and below to solve things, then I am hard on myself for doing it…. it is a vicious cycle. "it," which is only something my younger spirit learned as a way to survive. if it were anyone else, I would over empathize with her and encourage total compassion for failing to consistently catch yourself before you fall. it's hard to unlearn those things that once protected or saved us.

last spring after suffering a mini-stroke, after the days of gauzy feeling had faded, after finding out there was no brain tumor or known cause other than stress, I felt total shame. shame for not catching myself before this giant fall. and deep shame for other reasons i am aware of but not quite ready to articulate. the shame came and went for months like a dark circling cloud.

collectively the stress and worry of the pandemic, the election, some family crisis, and years of unprocessed trauma had become so heavy. as it had for so many millions of us. but the truth is, in the midst of that exceptional stress, was a mental hell compounded by how I handled it all. I failed to fully use the practices and means I have learned that bring me to peace. I failed to listen to my body and my spirit in those months of late 2020 and early 2021… when she kept saying "enough is enough." "you can't prevent ____" "you have lost touch with your sacred practices." "this is not your job" "please come back to yourself" "you are suffering more now than you have to."

"you have to let go"

"you have to let go"

"please let go"

and then like being hit by a bolt of lightening, I was laid out.

sometimes i fail to embrace how magnificent i am. and to fully embrace how i am not meant for suffering. but for joy.

sometimes I fail to see the magnificent forest alive with abundant possibility and beauty for the dying forest creatures or the disrespected and disappearing trees. I am working to balance this part of me …..my blessed husband has been the greatest mirror in service to this healing. I don't want to allow "it" to rob me of all that is beautiful, in each breath of this present moment. I don't want to loose how I see the world, either. but there can be a better balance. and a better way. with compassion and an open heart there are always things to learn about ourselves, to release and to restore.

I pray for your restoring.

xo c

January 29, 2022

wow. it’s been a long time….
but now after the storm and recovery, it’s time to begin again.
and what better thing to begin with, than love… xo c

every action is either an act of love
or an act of fear (which is an absence of love/a crying out for it) 

if the past several years have shown us anything
it’s that we desperately need more love.  

not anger and the division it brings. 

anger doesn’t make you stronger.  
to carry anger beyond its initial moments is to carry anxiety and anxiety weakens you 
and shatters everything good around you. 

but love? 

“Love is power, because it multiplies the best we have, and allows humanity not to be extinguished in their blind selfishness. Love unfolds and reveals.” Truth. 

if we meet what feels impossible with love, if we meet moments and people and beliefs 
we think we can’t tolerate with love 
(or its offspring compassion and curiosity) it’s like a Super Power. 
a   s  u  p   e   r      p   o   w   e  r    

love softens us. and it strengthens us. 
love forgives us. and it restores us. 

the next time a moment comes along, the one you think you can’t get through, try a new way… 
drop the anger and lead with love.  

and your whole world can change… and eventually the whole world 

“i am a drop in the ocean. and i am the ocean” 

let’s all try together? 

x c 

•

•

•

(i’m not suggesting there isn’t a valid reason for rage or anger sometimes, in moments. especially in the face of oppression or abuse. but carrying it and relying on it breaks us and ultimately kills us. the first lines in quotations is from from an unknown writer, writing found in Einstein’s belongings; second one is based off a Rumi poem, but o heard it from Dr. Larry Ward) 

6 march 2019

what do you carry now?
what message will you leave etched on the canyon walls?

‘something about everything.
every thing
about how getting lost allows you to become fully present,
how learning to love yourself allows you to become the love you seek,
some rendering about how the thing unknown and unfamiliar is the very thing you need most ’

2 july 2018

i am obsessed with rivers. i was born near one, i will die near one. 
     ... "put your lips to the river and live your life"... 

spent an hour on a river today and i feel regenerated. and more alive. 
   and connected to the cosmic magic source.

this is what i heard, with my lips and ears submerged, my body wrapped in the weight of ancient water - 

     river said : "where is your water? who is your water, my love? 
     let go of the illusions that keep you from the source, let go of the shore and wade in. or jump!
     lead with love, not fear, and the river will hold you. i will hold you. 
     swim, tread, swim. breathe. it’s not about where it is taking you, 
     it’s about the magic it holds for you. right n o w. "  

thank you. i am listening. 

28 june 2018

21 june 2018

thanks to a visit from a friend, i busted out the ole remington for the first time in a long time, 
and the muse responded. she jumped for joy and broke free. spirit spoke.
looking at the page today, i am reminded that the goal is not the outcome...
the goal is the journey.
"every thing is nothing. and sometimes it is everything." (spirit said)
which listening to spirit again, i think translates into something i need to remember more boldly : let the gift of impermanence guide the way, m'love. let go of any need to know the outcome. it will not serve you.
plant the seeds. water them. then grab what's grown to nourish you, let die what has not, and LIVE.
love. live.  
thank you muse. thank you spirit. thank you. i'm paying attention. 

"love, love, love, says percy. and run as fast as you can  
along the shining beach, the rubble, or the dust. 
then go to sleep.
give up your body heat, your beating heart. 
then, trust." (mary oliver) 

6 may 2018

30 april 2018

bring down the white noise
bring down the guard from his gate
swing wide and hold me,
for however
                                 long this takes

(said the earth to the moon)

17 april 2018

i carry a corpse, your silence. 

i carry your corpse, your kills.
i carry the messages you once left in the sand, heavy weighted by the chronology of rivers, 
ancient routine routes bent by curving hips and red hands
left sideways by something that can't be named. 

i am a stain on the rag that washes things clean. 

16 feb 2018

3 feb 2018

FLOATING TOWARDS BETHLEHEM

2 feb 2018

1 august 2017

art for arts sake. 
in honor of sam shepard, who i loved dearly, here is my contribution. i created this video the day before he died. i wrote the poem a few weeks ago. and in my uneasiness about releasing it into the world, i remember shepard’s raw grace and what it gave us : art stripped of pride to uncover life’s confusion and mystery, spaces to share in the the damn sorrow and wide-open unknown of being alive...of not having all the answers but pushing on anyway, unapologetically.

although i wasn’t what you’d call an avid addict reader of Shepard, i have carried his book of seven plays around with me for about 15 years. i went back and flipped through Buried Child yesterday. that intro… all that rain… his urgent bravery with words and absolute craft of breaking the rules are magical. his gift of not giving a shit what others expected as he created art that surprised himself i imagine as much as it did his readers or audiences who craved his brutal honesty and yet him there all along, the cowboy poet, writing and writing and writing, absolutely unafraid of the shock his plays imposed, knowing the shock was necessary.

his magic has always been drifting in my mind somewhere, pulling the chain - i’m going to start paying more attention to the rattle and the pull.

this piece is called "sometimes i disappear." 

9 july 2017
 
are you listening? 
 

22 june 2017

18 june 2017

I hold no preference among flowers, so long as they are wild, free, spontaneous.
- edward abbey

8 june 2017

the sky is on fire

i wake and crawl straight into the day
clutching fear between my teeth.

with my palms on my face i sit
where you asked what i believe,
searching the sky for a blessed hawk

cardinals fly
i turn to saturn 

and pray

to slow time, to melt into this place
inside folds of our infinity —— 

         the sky is on fire. 

               fire gives in to the silence of the pushing sun

                  soft white slopes

              the full of the moon pulls up blue

        and i am alone.

alone with the mourning doves, the flickering flame
alone with truth lying wrecked like fallen leaves, 
truth bound around half eaten figs on the feet of ants,
in the belly of clouds, under the rings of providence.
 
love. it is alive. 
hidden, maybe muted
but alive
inside the cup,
holding the sword, pulling the string.  

               pull it through.

17 may 2017

LIGHT BEHIND THE RAGING STORM -

four years ago tornadoes wrecked oklahoma and i went. driving up from austin, not understanding anything other than i had to go, i went. the first night i slept in the car, then two nights on a church floor, then i met a friend in that same church relief zone with two of her kids in tow and she let me sleep in their home. in the devastating pain all around us, around unimaginable chaos, beneath uncertainty, buried amongst the loss and the ruble there is hope that comes from being present for the light of a moment you never imagined. it's the light that shows you how to live

those storms took and ravaged so many lives, and it was a storm that helped to save and shape mine. is that selfish? maybe. but it’s honest. i will never forgot the faces of the people i met and even people i didn’t actually meet but saw huddled, standing in lines for water without shoes on their feet, or the smiles of folks handing out water to their neighbors. i will never forget this quiet sullen moment in a broke down moldy camper trailer with a mute little girl when she almost smiled. i am forever grateful for the first time gwen let me in. she stopped fidgeting and calmed herself, chain-smoking but less agitated, she let me into her tent where an alter was made for the man they called ‘granddad' who had died pinned to the floor of a trailer, where he stayed for two days because no one could reach them. gwen finally let me in and looked me in the eye to tell me what she really needed. it was to be left alone. but not left alone by me, just pretty much everyone else. and then i saw her everyday for a week. i went home to recharge and came back for another week and then talked to gwen weekly, then every couple of weeks, until slowly and eventually i stopped answering her calls. i couldn't do it anymore. i couldn't be that person for her anymore, because i was going through my own immense storm and i didn't have anything left to give. but i couldn't tell her that. i didn't know how to voice what was happening to me, let alone how to tell this women who had lost everything that my emotional health was somehow more devastating and necessary than her own. and i didn't have the guts to try. so i disappeared, probably like most other people in her life, i just disappeared. the last time she called and left a message was last april. i have never told this to anyone. and i hurt for not being able to simply say "i can't help you anymore. i love you but i can't." in those days, and the days that followed i began to truly learn and practice being present. being utterly barren and vulnerable with people, not trying to say the right thing or have all the answers but rather to show up, to listen and be honest is how we repair what’s broken. it doesn't mean i always get it right or know how to use the knowledge every day, but i understand it. i have been saved by it. and i believe with all my heart that raw presence is how we change the world. in the presence of a still heart there is love. it’s not hammers or money or pills or law and order or walls or guns, but vulnerable presence and honesty that saves us - because that open moment can lead us to the answers of what someone really needs to repair their life. to look another in the eye and witness raw freaking pain is the real life-changer. be still, show up every day, even if it's to say "i can't show up anymore." and ask, "what do you need, right now?" and then be able to say, "this is what i need." and then listen. listen to them, listen to your own beating heart. we can lift and hold each other up and make this world better, but we have to get every notion we’ve ever had of what’s “right” out of the way and simply be open to what is in front of us and what's being asked of us, inside and out. what is right is what this moment asks for, when it's done with compassion. what needs to be said, what doesn’t now?

i love the wind. it carries ferocity and peace. when the winds blow i always search for the light to roll behind the grey. looking up, waiting, listening. hear what is being said and trust that calling it what it is (or what it is not) will not break you but will make you stronger. tell the story, listen to another’s, and tell the truth. they may not like what you say, you or she may storm out into the unknown hurt and engulfed in fear but it will pass. and you will be stronger and more alive in that light. and it (your truth, my own) may just be the grace that truly saves a life.

storms are unpredictable. they are always there but we can’t stop living despite knowing or not knowing. storms are always there, but so is love.

26 april 2017

sometimes the greatest gifts come shaped like unexpected storms

7 april 2017

"we're made of star stuff," carl sagan famously said. and for that same reason we’re called back into the sea. the deep beyond the blue calls; even if we fear it, the cosmic unknown is literally in us. it's on the wind, on the waves. we are it. that same star stuff swims in the sea, it lives in the rivers that fill the sea, the salt complex, the comets, the sea creatures we can't see or even call by name but are there, still breathing, still surviving, still making love and dying unknown. and so to find some measure of equilibrium from holding onto or not holding enough spiritless materials we seek the sea, the only star stuff within our reach that doesn't reflect so much damn unbearable humanity. i love this about us. even if we’re afraid, even if the wide blue tossing churning waters frighten our minds, our bodies and our souls seek it. we need it. and once you're in it, once the cells are reunited with the creator, our mind begins to calm because it remembers. we remember. . . .  re-member.  

2 april 2017

i woke and saddled an hour before dawn and rode out the gate of the ranch house onto the vast, still black, mesquite sewn pasture beside the full rusty brazos. i had a plan. packing cameras and seeking answers and space to create something in my restless mind, I wound up short of the vision. a failure? not quiet.
what i saw with my heart in the pitch blackness was wondrous, beating timeless sparks beneath the silence.
◇ spirit is the companion of love ◇ reignite the spirit of wonder ◇crazy love◇ 

21 march 2017

       i d e s  of  m a r c h

i opened to now.
opened, blushed face to blushed face
  under a moon of sand.

you received and gave and took.
      took.

you took fear and made fire with my bones, 
made our red and broken hands the wind.
used, used, 
      useless
        liar.

from these ashes i will rise
      far from these ides of the taken.

        clear the way

25 feb 2017

beloved,

you are resilient. you are infinite and free. 
free to move, free to speak, to be angry, to scream.  
free to dance, free to create, to breakdown and re-create. 

you were made for this.

your sweet soul though needs rebuilding from time to time - what
with all the growing, the letting go, the battery on your being,
the side-ways whistles, the white washed lies,
the digging in and out.

so give up your tired heart and trust. 
surrender to what moves within you - 

              rio abajo rio

                                 let her in. 

mixing dried leaves with water and earth she touches the walls of your soul
making them fine and strong and ready. 

you need her bending so you can bear. 
she needs you to bear.   water.  light.  life. (your own)  

soul-maker, wolf-raiser, keeper of love’s many shapes, 
keeper of desires, keeper of the fire

will you let her in? 

13 feb 2017

22 jan 2017

it is hard to post something like this so publicly. and if you know me, you will get that immediately. but i have found strength through other women and men who are speaking out or spoke out long ago for what draws them out of silence and into a vulnerable place where they can fight more freely for what they believe. it feels like it’s time now, since questions, concerns and some condemnation has come to light about how/why “those women” marched. my own truth too is asking for the light, as i take honor in being one of “those women.”

i was sexually assaulted when i was 25 years old.

the man followed me home when i was drunk, gave me a pill that made me black out and then decided he wanted to have sex and took what he wanted. i didn’t know what had happened until i woke up and he was there the next morning, still in my bed, normalizing it all with small talk.

i knew this man who followed me home but we had never shared a moment alone and had never been romantic in any way. he was an “important,” “powerful,” well known man in the community where i lived and worked. he made deals and he made impressions and it served his needs very well.

so one reason why i marched? because i would love to be able to tell the 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35 year old me that it wasn’t her fault. i would insist that she know that saying “yes” is very different than “no” or saying nothing at all and that she is not just a pretty piece of ass. consent is a conversation, consent is about my needs not just his because it was my limp body that man entered and my body and soul he took pieces of and it was not his to take. and no matter how you tell the story, no matter how i tried to tell it to myself back then, what he did was wrong. i didn’t march because i hate donald trump. that’s not how i personally choose to use my energy. i didn’t march because i hate men either. i marched because nothing about that night when my life was attacked is a reflection of who i was or had been up until that defining moment when a man took what he wanted without asking me, when he took from me without seeing me as worthy enough to even ask if he could.

i am a woman but i am not your woman. i am my own precious beating heart.

coming to terms with what happened to me and the assaults and harassment and belittlement that happens to so many countless women (and men) took place before donald trump was elected. it’s not literally donald’s fault that sexual assault exists or happens every day around the world. not literally. but trump and those who stand around protecting him today, those who protect the rights and whims of the privileged year after bloody year, the republican and democratic parties and the media circus in power are now more than ever absolutely accountable around the world for holding up and protecting only one kind of person’s desires. their own. they are accountable for the perpetuation of rape culture and the blatant disregard for a women’s or girl’s right and ability to choose her own precious life’s potential. just like they are accountable for the space his campaign made available for white supremacy to be normalized.

in silence, when we look away, we accept and condone.

53% of white women in america voted for a man who defines them and their worth by how attractive they are in his eyes. why? i have thought and agonized over this. how do we hear all the horrible words and see how those words and deeds affect our neighbors, our sisters, and look away while we pick out the bits that don’t sound as bad and still say yes or keep quiet and vote yes or don’t vote at all? i think in part it’s because we are numb to the system. we didn't demand better from the beginning (before the elections, before last year). 
we (most of us anyway) were raised up generation after generation in a colonized fist to mouth culture that places value on women sitting pretty and talking pretty, pleasing men sometimes with no regard for ourselves so the man can be satisfied and flourish. so he can flourish and we can all get what we want, right? that is in large part how this nation was built. it’s how the world was built, especially the new world. women and minorities at the bottom, holding up the white men on top. that is who we were in 1776 and that is who we are in 2017 unless united we stand up and say “enough.” enough already.

we deserve better than this charade that was the 2016 presidential election, where women and other minorities were put on trial (by all parties). and no, it is not enough to have the right to vote and it’s not enough to be “free” living in america, not stoned to death in Saudi Arabia.

there are some things worse than death. 
we deserve better than this.

we the people and our precious children deserve better than the president of these united states of america to be a man who without apology vilifies and disrespects women and human beings.

we deserve better.

donald trump with his paper mâché head on a stick was the main subject of protest at these beautiful marches because donald trump represents the worst of the patriarchy. he believes in taking what he wants without consequence or consideration of others. he has now surrounded himself with a safety net of liars to help him take what he wants while encouraging others to do the same. take take take. when will it be enough? how much more can they take? it has paid in spades for him and them. but what about for you and your neighbor? what about your daughter?

DT : "If Hillary Clinton can't satisfy her husband, what makes her think she can satisfy America?"

"Psychologists will tell you that some women want to be treated with respect, others differently. I tell friends who treat their wives magnificently, get treated like crap in return, Be rougher and you’ll see a different relationship.”

“I moved on her like a bitch, but I couldn’t get there. And she was married,” "I did try and fuck her. She was married.”

"That must be a pretty picture, you dropping to your knees."

"You know, it doesn't really matter what [the media] write as long as you've got a young and beautiful piece of ass."

"Grab them by the pussy. You can do anything."

"Nobody has more respect for women than I do. Nobody. Nobody has more respect."

my answer as to why/how i marched with “those women?” because i am them. 
i marched and will continue to march to honor the love for myself that i finally cultivated over the past two-three years, the same love i have always given and seen in others, but never myself. i come from rural north west texas, from a beautiful family with parents who love and support me the best they can, from the day i was born, even when they don't understand me, even when i feel unknowable and won't let them. overwhelmingly most of my extended family doesn't believe what i do politically. and that’s okay. we live with respect and love each other in spite of these differences, which is what i think this country and its leaders and laws ought to reflect. it's our differences that make us whole! differences make us able to do great things when we come together and ask and listen. that's how and why america is great. i marched for many issues and for millions of folks. at the core though, my march was about things that ought to be uncontroversial - peace and love and respect. LOVE, mostly. love that’s inclusive, love that is borderless for ALL beings and all sacred land and the choice to love who you love, the opportunity to take care of those you love, the peace of mind that comes from knowing your worth is based on your character not your bank account or the size of your breasts, peace from being able to practice your spiritual beliefs and protect your cultural beliefs how you choose to, not how some man through his self-righteous whims and condemnation tells you to.

i marched because i can't and won't be quiet anymore.

xo c

sources :

http://nymag.com/…/trump-only-some-women-want-to-be-treated…

http://www.motherjones.com/…/trump-tape-%E2%80%9Cgrab-them-…

http://thehill.com/…/250611-apprentice-contestant-doesnt-re…

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/…/18-real-things-donald-trump…

https://archives.nbclearn.com/portal/site/k-12/flatview…

https://youtu.be/zLvIw8J8sWE

02 jan 2017

like so many, i'm in the process of reviewing, renewing and working to let go to make room for what i want and need. (more daily tho than cos of new resolutions) found some musing dug up from january 2014 - 
 

and she said - my love
i am here
where the sea turns air thin
under pale night sky.
i am the veil over the mountain.
see me in the morning  
        at the edge
learning to live finally. 

turns out there is a pattern here, no? four years later. 
i'd say it's time to move away from the edge. and go for it. whatever it may be. 

27 dec 2016

saturday 16 april 2016

step out from behind the veil
into the light
no longer strapped to the tree
undone
by the dust and debris that flies
in the face of all you strive to become. 
go on my love, you're almost home. (poem by cl)

saturday 16 april 2016

....surrender to what is right, for you. what do you need? 
"the feeling that is stirring within you is the power that allows you to remember who you truly are in all your magnificence....in your glorious garb of light, for all to see..." and finally, see yourself, and love. 

wednesday 30 december 2015

throw off sparks... a persistent, steady glow. no matter how dim. (raymond carver)

tuesday 6 october 2015

Silence, they say, is the voice of complicity.
But silence is impossible.
Silence screams.
Silence is a message,
just as doing nothing is an act.

Let who you are ring out and resonate
in every word and every deed.
Yes, become who you are.
There's no sidestepping your own being
or your own responsibility.

What you do is who you are.
You are your own comeuppance.
You become your own message.

You are the message.

(prison writings - my life is my sun dance - leonard peltier)

monday 21 september 2015

"not knowing when the dawn will come, I open every door." (emily dickinson)

  and then promptly i close them. just in case (chrislyn lawrence)                                                                                        

monday 9 september 2015

 besides the moon, where have you gone?

sunday 5 july 2015

monday 11 may 2015

out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, 

there is a field. i'll meet you there. (Rumi) 

monday 23 feb 2015

be still he said 72x72

tuesday 12 aug 2014

depression is not a demon. 

i remember clearly the first time i heard someone speaking of suicide as the most selfish act.
the sweat seeped out of my palms and i felt my whole body growing hot. then cold. i was maybe 15.
they didn’t know the bright cheery all-star girl they set next to in class had quarreled with herself, fought and failed over the specifics of ending it for most of her young life. but i did. and i have, most of my adult life. until i chose to stop running.

as a society we are so quick to demonize things. to demonize beliefs, actions, people. but depression is not a demon. that would suggest that us who have it are somehow possessed by the terrible-awful and that we should be feared. so it is not accurately a “demon.” at least not to me. not anymore. that word suggests that what we should do is just turn and run from it. scream, kick, karate-chop heave-ho and throw a sheet over it. then hide ourselves, hide our sadness, hide until it goes away or slay it into the ground with gallant prayers or booze and pills without looking it in the eye. but i’ve tried all those things. and none of them work. depression is a part of me. maybe it’s part of you. i have come to accept that it lives in me, but that doesn’t mean it’s who i am or what i choose to feed. because i’m not depression. and depression is not a demon.  

depression is a condition of the mind. sometimes of the heart. i think the only way to handle conditions like depression, alcoholism, drug addiction or trauma is head on, face to face, so that it doesn’t swallow us whole. we are light and dark - meet the darkness with more light. meet the darkness with more love. drive out fear. sing compassion and love into those deep wells until the darkness grows smaller and more tolerable. let’s stand together once and for all and shine love and light on what eats away at so many of us and demand as a society that we stop demonizing, that we stop running, that we STOP. and help each other to stop hiding. instead, be vocal. let each other know - you are not alone. today, instead of being ashamed or afraid of myself, i choose the light and i honor the dark in a balance that let’s me live instead of just survive. i choose to stop and look depression in the eye and ask how and why. and i recognize fully that i am lucky. i am so so grateful that somehow i found a way to love all of me and these days i am not afraid; and by grace somehow i am alive to write this now.
  
i choose now to welcome that part of me to the table and work with it because depression is not a demon. it is a condition. and i am only human. a human with a certain heavy condition. we are all human trying to confront the condition, the place, we’ve been given. whatever it is, whatever tugs or pushes you into more darkness than you can bare, i believe the confronting goes better if we lean on each other. so reach for more light. reach out and grab someone who can help light the way. reach out! but most of all, MOSTLY, reach out to yourself. sing to your heart and busy mind the greatest love song you've ever heard. depression hates lighthearted songs. (might i suggest something from the sound of music...)  
depression favors guilt and insecurities and hate. so FEED IT LOVE. go in love. we’re all dying to love.
bless your beautiful aching heart robin williams.