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Only half way there
my strength, spent
the widest part of the river
was yet to cross
The current, strong
my will, fading
until all that remained
was the other half of the journey
As stubborn as a mule on a mid summer afternoon
nothing left to do but cross
I turned back only for a moment
just enough to say goodbye
The distance traveled seemed so far
as I wished with all my might
a gentle breeze upon all that was
sent with the speed of a stormy gale
Dissipating only upon arrival
harmony restored
the continuum of practice
in the dojo of life
Where one ends
the other begins
behind, a cold harsh winter
ahead, Spring
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4KJL1Tah_40
Linda - thank you for your recent response regarding the writer's forum...a few other folks also expressed interest so I'll send Jun an email and he can make the decision he thinks is best for aikiweb...either way, thank you for sharing your beautiful blog.
... In regards to writing, I was thinking about asking Jun to open a new Forum category for Aiki writers. It would be a place to park, share, explore processes, projects, insights, challenges, post tools, resources, joys of writing, agony of editing etc. It would be a space to discuss/explore various types of publications, books/articles/essays/ memoirs, practice logs, fiction/nonfiction....Would that be helpful for Aiki Writers? Linda, do you think folks in your Mirror group might be interested? Mathew also mentioned he was interested in exploring writing...can other writers weight in?
I don't want to ask Jun unless we have folks who would actually use it...
We all know life has valleys....it makes the summit that much sweeter...so whatever may be on your path, may laughter, peace and joy accompany your journey.......Enjoy putting on YOUR RITZ!
Soon, the time will come
to discuss gun control and mental illness
acceptance and perhaps the consequences of rejection
For new laws
and action plans
but for now can we refrain?
Pausing to offer
prayer and reverence
as they cross into the Light
*Diana, it is my deepest honor that you liked and shared the Casualties of War piece. Sometimes an image comes to me and if I give it space, it reveals its story...I just get to write it down...all this to say, sometimes the process is equally surprising/chilling for me too...Anyway, in 1996, while teaching in S. Africa, I attended the Truth and Reconciliation Commission Hearings in Cape Town and Joburg. Apartheid ended in '93 so I came three years into the new era but the wounds of Apartheid were still very fresh for the country. During that time, I met many survivors of Apartheid and witnessed hundreds of their testimonies. It was all too evident that all human beings carry the ability to do great good and terrible ill.... it is the duality of human nature....Ultimately it all comes down to choices. The testimonies shared by the survivors of Apartheid were beyond any horror most of us can ever imagine. However, time after time, the survivors FORGAVE. When asked, they sought only what they needed...a proper burial, school fees for the children that remained, food, medical expenses etc. One woman wanted only medical care to remove the bullet lodged in her vagina after the perpetrat
...More
There is nothing civil about this perdition that shackles me
days on and off the battle field churn slowly like years
entrenched under this quivering canopy
nothing is sturdy in this wretched landscape
Outside, the once green prairie grass is engulfed by blood mud
inside, the strained voices of other nurses
and moaning of patients
blend into one
A loathsome symphony of pain
coming in and out of my perception
as distant cannons and nearing bullets
drum the sky, shaking out the stars each night
Arms flailing without their rightful bodies
legs torn, detached from their home
I stitch up what I can and cut off what I can not
just a few drops of whisky remain
Those arriving in a moment's notice
will clamp down their pain with a wooden spoon
death does not differentiate
between North and South
The smell of blood is thick, wreaking of iron
my sterilizing bucket, murky with tissue and blood
even the serrated saw seems to be dulling
this war lingers on beyond my contempt of it
I loathe it and the price of freedom
And what of the wedding bands on amputated arms?
The letters stuffed in the pant pockets of amputated legs?
Where do I put these sacred casualties of war?
No hallowed ground has been consecrated for such bereavement
What will two thousand headstones look like?
as the stains continue to layer on my tattered uniform
I meld into these soldiers that lay in front of me
Recently, while tucking her in
my daughter turned to me
"Mama, what happened to your hand today?"
noticing my bewilderment
she touched the three paper cuts on my index finger
undetected by all others
this wasn't the first time her Spider Sense tingled
A few weeks ago, she accompanied me to the dojo
watching me ever so intently
little did she know about my back pains
yet when asked of her favorite part
she quickly responded "the backward rolls mama"
somehow knowing
those were the hardest earned
The eyes of children
see and feel ever so completely
as acutely from their peripheral vision
as their center gaze
where between horizon and sky
all things are seen and experienced
clearly and crisply
Teaching the art of true sight
seeing all dimensions
celebrating every leaf
with the heart of kami
until all that is becomes one hum
Nature's first lullaby
But for these ancient truths
that linger beyond time
anchoring even the moon
in the darkest hours
of the midnight sky
enduring
is the path of understanding
and the joy it brings
though left to free will
I too could strike
but If we are one
How then, can one half hurt the other?
How does one unsee the sacred in another?
How does the drop separate itself from the ocean
when the ocean is but a drop itself?
and so despite the imminent prelude
in assailant eyes
harmony is restored
before intent sets motion
Still, unable to answer an attack
with an attack
I bow to the Gods that be
accompanied by silent summits
and humming forests
but for their cairns, I would be lost
knowing that neither strike nor sword
with all its bloody might
can pierce this budo communion
Harmony, barters not
it simply is
the nature of human condition
both hideous and beautiful
be it pin or throw
Nage mind screams to Uke
‘For God's sake, tap out!'
somewhere between namaste and ubuntu
where yin and yang
In balance, hold sway.
A true Samurai honors all life
Does not want to fight
But will die defending honor
And finish the fight
Chris Stevens
A fellow former Peace Corps Volunteer
Was that
Believing in the way of peace until his end
The attack, deliberate and committed
His response, deliberate and committed
He died a warrior
Trying to help others evacuate
In the news, in the subway, on the streets
I see the ego of hate daily
In the same news, in the same subway, on the same streets
I see the light of life daily
The duality of all beings
In harmony
The great Yin/Yang of the universe
In balance
But today my heart is heavy with the loss of Chris
There is comfort only in knowing
Trusting in
Believing in the light
The great harmony and beauty of all life
Is always there
The moon can not shine without the sun
The moon needs the sun, as the sun needs the moon
The moon shines BECAUSE of the sun
And only through the reflection of the moon does the sun assure us that it is still there
Though we can not see when night falls
Teaching us to trust in that which the eye can not see
To believe in peace, amidst war
To live by the light of the universe
To trust in the Way
Celebrate it
Honor it
Defend it
Die for it
03-17-2013 08:12 PM 
