Talk is cheap

Mindless chitchat
   Draining me
At a loss for words.
       Consuming each syllable, this
monotonous heard
No place for strange and lucid thoughts--
fermenting in the absurd.

Sunset Strip

Because this dance, with you and I, has left me in a trance.
My bewilderment replaced by your chivalry-
Will I finally get the chance?
To waltz with all those many few who fell for true love's grip,
and dip with midnight prancers
on this moonlit strip.

Pistachios and Prose

When we were children-

Noticing light through specs of dust,

Time slowing like monotony-

bodies feeling heightened sensations: it was too cold to play outside- skin hurts- we squirm as it warms-up: tingling feels like torture.

It's the little things, you said, that make me stay with him.

Unraveling the easter-coloured tissue paper, making up for the big things is his art form, and I am dazzled at the sun seeping through like stained glass.

It was not like this before, but I eased into it- the metronome slowly built a gait and now we are galloping through this thing we are meant to savour. Except, with lightning speeds, the colours like neon bulbs, meld into each other, everything in life looks like an 80s music video. It hurts my teeth.

But when I look into her eyes, her grace is the same. The warmth in her gaze is kept- with ambers of undying hope. 
Which, should have been lost. Could have been lost. May have been lost, long ago, but saved in the nooks of her luggage. Probably quickly packed in a roll of socks- held up between a cellophane of saffron and a bag of pistachios.

We fled, you know. But they don't.

And then we say: there's no more room.

....

Our hearts have shrivelled into the same size

as those

same specs of dust.

Spirits

There is a space, a room in your head, where spirits can roam- undisturbed.

They find the path from through you spine and slowly walk up the curve.

They knock three times at the base of your skull where the light shines and pools.

They enter through, find peace from snares-

and takeoff their dusted overcoats.

Some have wings, others just float, and some need neither nor.

They are related to you, through this web we weave, through this thing we call life.

Not having lived but once- we’ve collected them in all our dimensions of time.

They gently come, to disturb no one, but dwell with those they know:

We’ve forgotten them, in our conscious state, in this conscious state: our home.

Unaware, we lead these busy lives, these lives made worthy through busy.

But when the day leads into night and busy bleeds by attrition- we catch a furtive glimpse, a subconscious lift.

Because, we cannot reach the final end without the very beginning,

for that, my friend, has always been the one that’s everlasting.

The person within, the you that is all accumulating, will always be remaining. 
She knows of all the creatures who come up the curve and tell you to stop spinning.

The Light

The paisley scope of parallel skies paints rhythms in your head- draws illusions in your bed, 
but you can't see the demise,

built castles from those lies. 

The walls won't break with rattle snakes disguised as gargoyle eyes- 

you shake the storm and with hubris you roam,

planting thorns amongst the clover.

But crooked is your foundation.

The light may seem as a thin veil,

but she has many proportions.

Dimensions deep-

The ones you seek, but too shallow to beholden.

Yes, you can knit this amber vest of bullet proof protection,

But light can seep through anything and catch all your deception.

An immolation you will be, despite your contempt.

The light, she has her legion, scattering confetti upon your descent. 

The Elephant Journal

I am very pleased and honoured to say that The Elephant Journal has published one of my poems!! Woot woot!! Check it out at http://www.elephantjournal.com/2016/04/collision-at-the-caspian-sea/

And, take some time to peruse all that The Elephant Journal has to offer.  It is a truly insightful and uplifiting online journal that is helping to make the world, kinder :) 

May you and yours be happy and healthy and surrounded by love, good music, and good poetry. 

Namaste. 

Sareh 

space

Expand-

the space between each thought.

            The silence.

                        It oozes,

                                 drips,

                              and drops-

onto the sides of the paper.

                        Blurring- 

                                       the lines.

                                  Diluting,

         the energies.

And it was in the space, (in this silent space alone), between each thought,

that I found (all) that I was searching.

No need to find an anchor, it (I) was already here.

Pure radiant consciousness, (me).

Disillusion

The rainfall

                     in my dream

sounds much more like a scream

and I wake

                     only to find my disillusion.

In the stillness of the night,

It finds its shinning light and, dutifully, keeps me company.

It sits in solemn prayer,

by my bedside holding air of enlightenment, and sacred apathy.

I’m just like a child, hiding under its casting shadow overtop of me.

I cannot shake the thought: If I leap what will cause my stop- further grief and heartache can only follow.

So I take my rightful place, in honour and disgrace- disillusion you can be the death of me.

Meditations on being Perfect

Meditations on being Perfect

The other day I attended a workshop dealing with Anxiety in Youth. I see so many students suffering from anxiety and depression, and it feels the number grows every year. I learned a great deal of practical information, but one thing in particular was most illuminating. 

I have always wondered where the desire for perfection, which causes a great deal of anxiety, comes from.  I used to believe it arose from the way parents raise their children, and supported at school by teachers who emphasize excellent results.  I had learned that emphasizing effort over grades and final results would combat a drive towards perfectionism.  I also believed that supporting mistakes as an opportunity for growth could also be a powerful antidote, but I have since learned that it is far more subversive and complicated than that. 

My friend, a hypnotherapist, has taught me that some people, more than others, are greatly impacted by subliminal messages, so to them it matters more what they see and sense than what you say.  I think that is where the old adage, do as I say; not as I do, comes from- in hopes that the ideals we communicate are being followed, rather than how we actually live our lives. But unfortunately, kids seem to learn from what we do far more than from what we say.  I remember my first year teaching, I would tell my students to speak nicely with one another, and one day I saw them all shushing a very loud student in an almost aggressive way.  It jarred me as I realized that I shush this boy! And I must be shushing him in this exact way, why else would 5 kids all be shushing him in the same exact way?  We are a product of our environments and learn so much from what our parents, teachers, and society models for us. 

And, sadly, the greatest thing we are modeling, as a society is perfection.  We are all striving to be better versions of ourselves, through our diet, exercise, home renovations, etc.  Just look at social media, those who appear perfect have the greatest number of followers.  We are a society obsessed with perfection.  And it is causing us to feel more and more anxious and depressed, because perfection is unattainable. 

While sitting in the workshop I realized that although I am not “that parent” (that drives her kids to tutoring so that they can achieve straight As) or “that teacher” (that gives a public prize to students who achieve 100% on tests), I still grapple with my own desires for perfection. I do want the house neat and tidy all the time, because people in neat and tidy homes are always so happy, right? Well, at least they are on TV and in magazines, so I want that.  I also love it when my nails are done and I am slim and trim.  I look like the happy girls in magazines when I achieve that goal, which means I too am happy, right? I realize that the answer is no.  But subliminally I have been trained to think this way. 

It takes conscious effort to consider the root of my happiness, and when I do, it is never because I am my goal weight, or that my house is clean, or that the tiles and grout in my kitchen are perfect. Those things do bring me happiness but that happiness is fleeting and pretty shallow, to be honest.  It is not a high-impact long lasting joy at all.  What truly brings me joy is my attitude, my health, my family’s health and happiness, and the times that I am consciously aware of the fleeting gift of the present moment. 

The workshop made me realize that all my hurried cleaning in my classroom and at home sends my students and kids the wrong message: everything must be perfect to be good.  I also realized that putting myself down for being imperfect (which I have been know to do in front of my kids!) is really poor modeling!!

So, I vow to show everyone in my midst that I embrace everything that is imperfect; because I am truly getting tired of the anxiety it causes us.  It makes me sad that we are raising a whole generation of nervous perfectionists because we have not realized that perfection is killing us! A recent study states that people eat poorly when they are feeling badly about themselves- we eat poorly because we feel bad about how we look.  Striving for perfection is literally killing us!

So, let’s stop feeling bad about not being perfect, and instead embrace it because as the imperfect Gods of Egypt used to say: A beautiful thing is never perfect.

Have we not evolved past this?

Dear fellow humans,

I, like you, saw the picture of the missing little girl Hailey Dunbar-Blanchette on Facebook and immediately shared the amber alert.  And like you, I prayed and hoped that she would be found safe and sound and returned to her mother’s arms.

I quickly became incensed from reading people’s comments judging the mother for not coming forward, assuming the mother had something to do with this crime, and once they found the perpetrator, assuming the mother was involved with him to commit the crimes. I read many insensitive and judgmental comments written about her- the public created a monster out of a woman they do not know and have not even seen.  Once she broke her silence, I read the comments that praised her and wished her well, as the public turned her into their hero. 

I am disappointed in us.  I am disappointed that we cannot learn to take control of our minds, mouths, and in these days, our fingers that type-out our thoughts.  I am heartbroken that we are so quick to classify each other into binary labels- and for what? To better understand one another? To better understand the world? No, these practices separate you from humanity! They divide us; they alienate us from each other.  They break our own connections with our own hearts.  They damage our own relationships with ourselves and in turn our relationships with each other. 

Did it make you smart to think that the mom was implicated? Did it make you feel good? It could not have possibly brought you any peace or any sense of self-worth.

Imagine if you had just read the news and hoped for all the individuals involved to find peace, love, and solace.  That would have been the ticket.  That would have actually helped the little girl, the mother, you, and all of humanity. 

Next time, tell your mind to take a break and ask your heart to take a stand.  Take a stand for what is right.  Stop judging every individual all the time and take a moment of peace and love for the sake of yourself, and believe me, you will be doing us all a favor.

Namaste.