Before the Morning Bus Stop Drop

 

 

courtesy of Bodhi Rouse
courtesy of Bodhi Rouse

 

sensation stirs
within
a longing
inspiration
bittersweet
desire
to capture
see
reflect
share

become aware

before the bustle of toasted bagels
messy sesame seeds
foggy car windows
and the defrost setting
mixed with humid morning air
driving to the bus
stop

an eleven-year old boy
hair styled
with experimental gel
bangs stiff
but flopping
beneath the weight of a do
too long to hold
he’s too young
to know

me
mother
at least
knows
these things cannot be told
they must be
suggested
delicately

all so delicate

as he tells me
how fun it was
wrestling with the boys
punching as hard as they could
getting all their anger
out
laughing
sweating
hurting

then running off together
to jump fences
pick fresh mangos
and eat them
whole

Metamorphosis

2015-09-02_caterpillar close

 

A friend gifted the Bohemian a Crown Flower tree for his birthday last April. Not only is it known for its flowers, which can be used in making leis, but it is a host plant for the precious Monarch butterfly.

In the last week, we’ve watched a multitude of caterpillars come to munch the leaves, and have even discovered one cocoon already hanging. The lines along the outside of its wrapping, truly glisten golden in the sunlight. Incredible!

We’ve learned that it’s normal for the caterpillars to devour the whole tree. Once they’ve nourished themselves, made their cocoons, and evolved to fly away as butterflies, the tree will sprout new leaves again.

Knowing that the Monarch butterfly is at risk of extinction (only about 30 million are left on the planet), we are happy to provide a safe haven for them to proliferate.

I delight in the wonder and mystery of how they have discovered us. On a little island (just a speck in the Pacific), our solitary Crown Flower tree sits in a pot, tucked  far in the corner of our yard. Yet, now it has become a magnet for these voracious munchers.

Yesterday, my Word Problems post referenced Alice in Wonderland. Well, here’s the caterpillar in real life. Far from lazing, these plump little crawlers are on a mission to transform, in an alchemical process that will take them to new heights. We are thrilled to be the spectators.

2015-09-02_caterpillar group and cocoon

 

2015-09-02_cocoon

 

2015-09-02_caterpillar face

The Key

“Say Yes! Simply meet each experience of life, inside and out, body, feelings and mind, with all the love and acceptance you can muster.”

Deep thoughts from Cheri Huber in her book “The Key, and the Name of the Key is Willingness.”

Huber’s book, “That Which You are Seeking is Causing You to Seek” was purchased by me in a San Francisco bookstore when I was 19 years old. It was a waft of cool air in the hot pavement of Fresno, where I was going to school, breaking up with my boyfriend, and feeling generally displaced in the world.

I’m forty-two now, and Huber’s “The Key” was a birthday gift just granted to me by a dear friend. The friend I secretly envy because she seems to have somehow found ‘the key’ to a daily meditation practice, a discipline I know would behoove me but I restlessly rebel.

I soften the fact that I can’t seem to make it to the meditation cushion, by thinking that I try to bring meditation into daily life. There are plenty of opportunities in walking reality to implement some mindfulness. A humorous example being the tramway ride to Jested in the Czech Republic this summer.

Jested, the highest mountain peak in the Liberec region of Czech, hosts a hotel and television transmitter.You can hike to the top in a few hours, or take a kind of gondola to the hotel in a few minutes. We opted to be lifted.

There is a stereotype that the more natural European approach to hygiene often results in body odor. In my personal experience in Czech, I found most to be quite well-groomed and sweet-smelling. It seemed every woman wore eye make-up, and even the most rural of them had manicured nails. The men were clean and often cologned.

However, on that hot July day, as we crammed in to the airtight gondola to Jested, along with twenty-five other perspiring sightseers, the stench was high. It didn’t help that numerous passengers were holding on to the straps dangling from the ceiling, giving air to scent-rich pits. Poor Jeb. At his height, he was surrounded by axillae perfectly positioned to his nose level.

There was no escape.

At least not for our five-minute ascent to Jested’s peak.

We weren’t in the hell realms by any means, but it was unpleasant to the olfactory glands.

“Say yes!”

I just laughed. And couldn’t help snapping a few shots of our living meditation practice.

2015-08-21_C_gondola armpits

 

2015-08-21_C_jeb armpit