After The Plunge

Because of you, I will live on forever.

This is what her teacher told her.

This is what she told me.


How can you officially be my teacher?
You don’t ask.

You sit on a cushion.

I cupped my hands

in Cosmic Mudra,

breathed in my missteps

and exhaled forgiveness

over and over and over.

Outside the room

with the giant crucifix,

the Mother Mountain held us

in her lap

comforted by a blanket

of fog that never lifted

the whole day.

It covered us,

softly misting

tears – sorrow, joy – of being together,

coming home, heart bursting.

Every time

I forget to remember,

every time

I remember to forget,

I am free to experience What Is.

What Is is always bearable,

even when it isn’t –

for change is just a moment away

and just as quickly, gone.

Sing to me,

Mother Mountain.

Tell me a story

while I soften my gaze.

It is easier to stomp your foot

and miss the ground

than it is to miss the Way.

Or something like that.

Without fear,

I’m left holding only upturned hands,

my eyes meeting your eyes

hugeness of spirit

and no need to know,

know when I’ll return

how it will all go down

what the next chapter will hold.

Without fear,

I am emptiness,

hungry for breathe.

For once, there is nothing to chase,

to track down, to win over,

to get right,

to secure. Just inhale again,

then let it go.

Thirty thousand times a day.


There is no need.

There is no next.

There is only now.

The rest will take care of its own self,

perfect and effortless

as the sun and the moon

somersaulting effortlessly

through the brush.

In another part of the world,

the world that has no corners,

my babies are sleeping

in their own beds.

I am sending them breath,

sending myself breath,

with each exhale letting go of worry

that I am not good enough.

In another part of the world,

the world that has no corners,

my beloved sweats out his prayers in darkness.

I am sending him breath,

sending myself breath,

with each exhale letting go of worry

that I am not enough

that we will not have enough.

It is always enough.

There is always enough breath,

enough gravity and oxygen and water

and creativity

and improvisation

and support

and competence

and love,

always enough love

to get us through this moment, and the next.


Now do you see?

Your life is your dharma.

Your life is the Way.

Follow your life, watch it unfold

the soft purple flowers of the jacaranda trees

littering the road

where you walked so slowly,

for once in no hurry,

not running away

or towards anything at all.


Thank you, Maezen.
I love you. You are love. I am love. I am so grateful.

8 thoughts on “After The Plunge

  1. Honey says:

    deep sigh out and tears followed. Thank you.
    Lotus flowers everywhere we have just decided to call my baby in womb Pema the tibetan word for lotus.
    xx

    Like

  2. Holly says:

    i love you, sweet jena. i am so filled up with gratitude for meeting you in the flesh–breathing together, side by side, arms outstretched, as we take the next step. let's keep reminding each other. many many many many thanks. xo.

    Like

  3. Jane_hates_Dick says:

    Breathe in, breathe out, all we have to do is keep breathing. The rest will unfold. Jena Strong, you are love, too.

    Like

  4. traceyclark says:

    perfect poetry for the day we shared. i feel that you said here everything i wanted to say but didn't know how. what a gift. a gift following a gift.
    it was a pleasure to meet you and witness, feel, and breathe the magic with you jena.

    Like

  5. Schmoops says:

    so happy to have connected with you (over tears), so perfect for the day, yes?

    happy that we were all a part of something so beautiful and healing.

    love to you.
    xo

    Like

  6. Kelsi says:

    This is beautiful.

    This is my favorite part:

    “breathed in my missteps

    and exhaled forgiveness

    over and over and over”

    I breathe in my missteps all the time but forget to exhale forgiveness. I plan to change that.

    Thanks for your beautiful words.

    Like

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