Unravelling and weaving, sometimes simultaneously

Archive for July, 2013

Monkey Trap

There is a thing called a monkey trap. Usually it’s a jar, or a coconut, or some other container whose entry allows the monkey’s hand in, but prevents it from withdrawing its fist once it has grasped the bait. Stubborn, and unable to conceive releasing the object and simply dumping it out, the monkey is effectively trapped. Often, the only way to get the monkey to let go is to offer it something it wants more than what it already has in its fist.

What is your monkey trap? What is it that you hang on to so firmly that it keeps you from being free? Almost anything can be a monkey trap… what you have to discover is what you have in your hand, what it is that you are grasping, and why.

Is it Fear that keeps you trapped? Is it Anger? Are you holding on to a broken relationship, a dead end job, things you don’t need, experiences in your past?

When you think about what you have in your hand, what do you feel? Why is it important for you to hang on to it? What would happen if you let go?

Think about the best thing that could happen if you release yourself from your monkey trap. How would freedom feel? How would it feel to move on? Think about the worst thing that could happen if you let go. Are the consequences so grievous, or have you just gotten used to hanging on for dear life to something that no longer serves your higher purpose?

Image

(c) RCGA, 2013

 

Pink Plastic Easter Egg

This hot and humid morning

late in a southern July

I found a pink plastic Easter egg

lying in the courtyard outside the Parish Hall.

My friend is dying.

I wonder if, when she is gone

her body will be like the egg I found…

jaunty, but tired, perfectly empty.

If she was the little fuchsia clockwork bird

I imagine emerging from the shell,

she would chirp with an Alemani accent

and perch in the highest tree she could find

so she could scout the horizons

seeking, always seeking,

cellophane feathers fluttering,

bright button eyes gleaming in the sun…

eager, so eager

for the freedom and joy

new experiences can bring.

The shell is just what is left behind,

having served its temporary purpose

after all.

(c) RCGA 2013

Image

Reading

Cross my palm with silver

then give me your hand

let me read the lines there

help you understand

Wyrd has marked your fingers

creases speak your fate

prosperity and lifespan

progeny and mate

You’re free to ask a question

I wouldn’t be surprised

if you did not believe me

but I don’t deal in lies

There is a roadmap to your soul

there inside your hand

so let me read it for you

help you understand

(c) RCGA 2013palm-reading

Kith & Kin

Humans are a tribal breed

that longs for community,

and thrives surrounded

by kith and kin.

Young or old

people desire connection…

they long to belong

and enfold others into their belonging.

Yet while every person is born

with relatives of blood,

the kin of our bones,

those selfsame persons build

a lifelong family of heart,

their kith,

linked by friendship, love and spirit.

We may adopt them

children of our heart —

or we may stand shoulder to shoulder with them

brothers and sisters of our heart —

or we may take them into our souls and bodies

lovers of our heart.

All these other humans are no less family

than those related by birth,

and their value exceeds any quantum of blood

by virtue of the heart’s measures:

friendship, love and spirit.

Nature has its vagaries

Life has its cruel turns;

the human who has lost kin may endure

but never kithless.

© RCGA 2013

Image

Strawberries on the Road to Heaven

The elders say that when you die

you will continue on the Red Road

a little further

that you will walk a beautiful way

finding your path lined with strawberries.

For four days you will wander

towards your personal sunset

savoring the sweet red fruit along the way

each bite a reminder

of the succulence of life

and the sweetness that lies ahead

for those who have followed the road

to its natural conclusion.

I will eat strawberries for you

on the fourth day

knowing your journey is over

praising your memory

grateful for your life

knowing one day I will see you again

smiling with all the others

the red fruit a gift in your hands.

© RCGA 2013

For my prima, Pablita, RIP dear beautiful sister.

Image

The Boiler

a journal of new literature

Surviving Grief

How to embrace grief and heal

unbolt me

the literary asylum

Tales of haunted hotel floors and faraway myths

Some of my short stories, draft ideas and everyday tautologies.

Kosmogonic

Submitting to the Glorious Inevitable

Arrows & Metaphors

M. Sanchez Cayuso

Inwardly Digest

Reflections and thoughts on faith, life, and the Christian Tradition

Mohn Foto

Photography

SCAeveryday

Society for Creative Anachronism Every Day of Your Life!

Ranger Medic Nurd

Thoughts of a Park Ranger turned EMS about nurdy cool stuff!

Natchitoches Parish Journal

News, Sports and Information for Natchitoches Parish

rivrvlogr

Looking ahead, without looking back (too often)

Michael Cargill

Regular updates of sarcastic and irreverent nonsense.

writerchristophfischer

Books, Reviews and bookish thoughts

eBayism School of Thought

AWAKENING THE SLEEPING READERS

The Accidental Cajun

The Adventures of a Northern Boy with a Bayou Bent

%d bloggers like this: