Scratch-free

Continuing on the thread of the posts from the last two days, I’m still pondering the perspectives of “No Enemy” and “That Which You Resist Persists.”

I’ve also been reflecting on the beautiful word “ease” and thinking about how I want its essence to infuse my life.

If resistance is essentially a frictional “no” then perhaps its antidote is a welcoming “yes.”

Jessica Dofflemyer ~ all rights reserved

Affirmation to the moment at hand.

I used to hike hidden goat trails with friends in remote valleys.  The paths were narrow and usually overgrown with flora, especially the invasive lantana plant, full of thick thorns.  As we made our way through the underbrush someone developed a mantra “no resistance, no scratches.”  

We found that the more we relaxed into walking through the brush without recoiling or fighting the branches, the more we became almost impermeable to getting scratched.  It was an energetic, almost like Tai Chi, where we became ‘one’ with our surroundings and moved in easy coherence with our environment.

Saying “yes” to the moment doesn’t necessarily mean a passive existence.  I believe we can still shape our moments, like a sailor uses a rudder to steer a boat within the current.

To apply these metaphors to the here-and-now, I’ll tell you that Jeb has now woken from his slumber.  He’s hungry and desiring to share with me the record-breaking animals from his Book of World Records.  It’s time to prepare his lunch and make my bed.  Life calls me away from this writing realm here in the Archives.

I could either cling to the banks or simply go with the forces that are now moving me in new directions.

I know I’ve got my symbolism all overlapped.  Brambly bushes on earthen trails and the watery currents of life’s river.  I won’t resist, just accept that it’s a makeshift morning with little time for writing refinement.  Hopefully, you catch my drift.

I’m thinking ease.  I’m envisioning gentle currents with steady steering.  I’m feeling scratch-free.  I’m saying “yes.”

In the Hoop

we gather at the beach
where the river meets the sea

beers and kabobs
sweet potato salad from Mary’s garden
dogs brush legs
the sun goes down

by the fire
beautiful women
circle hips
with hula hoops
at sunset

pink clouds turn grey
orange embers flit
into darkening air
swirling in smoke

I try
the hoop
circling circling circling
then don’t want to stop
white foam in the distance
crumbling

“You look like you’re at a Grateful Dead concert”
a friend says from afar
I keep circling
“Is it because I’m wearing a skirt?”

“You just look like you know what you’re doing.  Like one of those hoopers at a Dead show”

the sacred hoop
the wheel of life
sun setting on small waves at sea
maybe my secret’s seeping through my hips

desire
to open to life completely
to die in utter surrender
gratefully

the marshmallows are out
Jeb’s made two s’mores
white goop stuck to full cheeks
granules of sand glued to sugar sweet
charcoal-covered hands

he comes to embrace me
head, heart-high
face on my blouse
hula hoop at my ankles
sand sifting through my toes

courtesy of derek gavey

Overflow in Motion

photo by Jeb

Recently, all creative juices have been aimed at setting some basic life practicalities in place.  This morning I come to the Archives with no cream for my coffee and feeling a bit inspirationally tapped.

Then I come across a photo taken by Jeb.

There does exist a well without end.
It sources somewhere between the notes of a song or the lines of a poem.
It courses through veins of arms that embrace.

My seven year old son has captured flow in motion.

Ahhh…the cup that runneth over!