“There is a huge silence inside each of us that beckons us into itself, and the recovery of our own silence can begin to teach us the language of heaven.
What good is it to me that Mary gave birth to [the Son of] God fourteen hundred years ago if I do not also give birth to [the Son of] God?
We are all meant to be mothers of God, for God is always needing to be born.
Cherish in yourself the birth of God.
In this Birth, you partake in the divine stream. Christ is conceived in your core, your inmost recess, where no idea ever glowed.
In this Birth, God pours into you, and the light at the core of your soul grows so strong, it spills out. The light overflows into your body, which becomes radiant with it.
For the eternal Birth, which occurred at one point in time, occurs every day in the inmost core of the soul. ”
i traveled a river of concrete in a machine, you traveled an ocean of air in a machine, babies crying, inconsolably, you said i said, eustachean tubes aren’t meant for 30,000 feet.
i am not meant for this, neither are you, neither are they.
not the opposite of joy on Christmas eve but the false pursuit of it whatever is actually contrary to it even if we don’t know it when we see it. even if we refuse to know it when we see it.
if i allow myself to cry, he will see it on my face.
a version of this essay was first published December 8, 2015
“Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat, please put a penny in the old man's hat, if you haven't got a penny, then, a half-penny will do, if you haven't got a half-penny, then God bless you.”
I went to the nearest Dollar Store to buy old-fashioned, stringy, silver tinsel for our christmas tree.
All that glitters is not silver or gold, is never ever golden, whether you buy your pretty ornaments or wrapping paper for a buck – or two at Dollar Tree, Walmart, Target, Macy’s or Saks for $5, $10, $30 or $50. The only difference is the retailer’s profit margin — very rarely is there a difference in quality when it comes to seasonal items, disposable items and sundries.
The season of peace and beauty feels very false once you know and remember to never forget that all those beautiful ornaments and decorations adorning almost every American home, restaurant or holiday venue are made by women, children, or men in sweatshops who are breathing in lead dust, paint fumes, plastic glitter, chemicals and pigments often for less than $30 per 12-hour shift; all that beautiful crap then warehoused, shipped, stocked and sold by non-living-wage, multi-job workers in the U.S.
Yet, while I’m there roaming the aisles or in the long line to check-out, I feel an overwhelming sense of community with my fellow city dwellers — the shoppers, the store’s workers and with all the workers of the World — particularly those in Yiwu, Zhezhang, China who are mass-producing a vast majority of all of this shit.
silver tinsel, aka Icicles, ironically & hilariously, still made in the USA!
I also feel an overwhelming revulsion of the systems of ‘growth’ and development: capitalism, consumerism, and human and natural resource “management” which are uniquely undeniable in the fluorescent, depressive uniformity of the minimally staffed chaos found in a busy, urban dollar store,
“We are all called to be mothers of God, for God is always waiting to be born.”
— Meister Eckhart, 13th century German mystic
madonna & child stained glass 2013, Portage Park, Chicago
The Christmas narrative speaks to us beyond a phenomenal story about Mary and the Baby Jesus. It tells us about an inbreak of God's consciousness into the world. Inbreaks of the Divine require a flexible mind capable of letting go of every acquired concept of God. God gnosis is quite different from religious, historical, and any other kind of knowledge. The first emerges from within, throwing open our inner gates; the latter comes from without.
she gently pincers the end of ki’s gorgeous black tail
gingerly pulling kin off the road
redundantly committing ki’s spirit
to the universe, aloud
with apologies for humankind, silently
purposefully committing kin’s body
to a safer spot
for mourning
and carrion feast
Ki’s body was unexpectedly heavy
full of walnuts and seeds
fat and strong for a long winter ahead
so alive just minutes ago, I saw out the window
I’m sorry
I’m sorry
for me
for my kind
for our machines
for our structures
for our carelessness
for our selfishness
for all this,
engineered, manufactured, destroyed
the limineen | earthling, poet & crone 