In The Quiet of This Night. . .
In the quiet of this night,
come to me and we will hold hands
and talk and I will show you
from how high up you jumped.
The night will love you
and envelop you
and you will find
that in the cold moon
there is a heat that sustains
to show you where your home is.
Within the skirts of who you are,
you will gather
the children around you
and we will love each other.
The heart knows its own Amen. . . . .
. .
Not often do I go back in time to relive something so intensely fierce that it can undo my mental health. Yet I was driven to remember when I found our ten month son missing. We were living in Tokyo at the time; my husband in the military.
Our lodging was in an apartment near the University with a landlady who was a mistress of a Japanese businessman. It was a new apartment, sparse though close to the base, in a Japanese neighborhood.
We were on good terms with the landlady whom we called Oksan. She loved our baby son and yearning to have a child of her own, sat and rocked the carriage in the secluded garden while he slept. She asked to babysit for short periods. I was uneasy with her yearning for a child but relented.
I went to the commissary one day and when I returned Oksan was gone with our son in his carriage. She had not said she was going anywhere only that she would sit. I put away the groceries and waited.
I soon became frantic and went looking for them. I ran like a crazy lady from stall to stall on our street asking everyone if they saw them. They could see I was panicky but why, no one understood.
The students on break at the University understood somewhat though they did not understand the panic. I called my husband at the base and because he was an officer, could come home and brought a man who spoke Japanese. Not understood was my fear. This was after all Oksan and why the panic?
The fact that my baby was gone, in a foreign place, with a someone who wanted him to be hers, did not register. Overreaction they thought.
Sometime later she did return of course. Our son was asleep in his carriage and she had gone visiting. Fortunately, soon after we returned to the U.S. so I did not face the issue again. What brought this memory forward?
One of this week’s immigration policies would be to separate the child from the parent at the border. I am horrified at the thought of the panic in the child and the fear ridden parent seeing the young children taken.
My heart will stop if I linger with this now.
I cannot believe such insensitivity would exist in anyone’s belief system. I cannot fathom a government policy stating this.
I was just 20 years old when this episode happened. For 9 months this child grew beneath my heart and 10 months in my arms. The intensity of my fear and panic I can taste again. I would only say don’t mess with me guys. Eternity is a long time.
Beneath My Heart. . .
How could I not love them?
They grew beneath my heart,
waiting for my heart to beat
so that their’s would continue beating.
Did you not think
I would not know that?
And they would be reason enough
for me to keep breathing?
You did not know me. . .
Like a bear
I would fight for my cubs.
I made them. . . .
They wear my name
and one day they
will remember. . .
who taught them about love.
painting by a local
Japanese artist 1953
I scribe. The teacher speaks. . . Nature expounds her presence with all. She ventures to shout her presence. She sends storms and pestilence and calm days and sunny skies to announce her presence. She grants to all the balm of her existence. But she angers and cries . And in frustration teaches what no other thing or method can. She is a great lady but given to little patience. The earth is in dire straits, she says. She hurts and I cannot let her bleed to death. So she rages and fumes and she tires. Will she give up? The earth gods know. The earth gods know.
It is a good world. You had a dream, once. We watched and talked amongst ourselves whether it was worth it. And how could you be so intense when none about you were. They took it but did not see from where they supped. They drank and they did not see who poured. The warm milk, the bread, the shot of dry whiskey that burned the fire in their belly. . .
(I say, fire them up. Teach them all. The elders their responsibilities as well as their rights. And the adolescents who have the fire in the belly, to quarter it and contain it and put it all to constructive use. And to the babies, these who have memories that will not quit, do not let us disappoint them. For we will have a generation of vipers on hand and we will have done it. We will have terrorists of the first order and we will have no one else to blame but us . . . .again, all time is simultaneous. From a journal of December 6, ’92, valid then and certainly NOW.
For Now. . .
Let your mind answer
your heart’s murmuring,
for in the sanctity of self,
you will see your divinity.
In the august crucible
that is Earth, latticed by clouds
hovering the trees,
you gain your peace.
In the musing of the grass growing
to reach its height and to color
the bare earth with a carpet
you feel the hallowed crest. . .
In all, gently tend
the heart’s rending and choose
the teachers who match
the performance. . . .
of your innate goodness. . . .
poem written
August 9, 1985
photo by
Kathy Rybacki Qualiana
Hardest Lesson. . .
They don’t know yet,
the ones closest to me. . .
friends and all. . .
why I do things the way I do.
It is because I know
the good in the work
and the beauty in the body
doing what mind tells it to do.
It is a dance,
a mind and body ballet.
It has taken centuries of many lives
to learn and it was no simple matter.
The hardest thing to purge
was thinking I was above
doing such menial work.
While all the time I had to learn
how to be god-enough to do it.
No longer is the excuse ‘I’m only human’ valid. Lest we forget how much depends on us. There is no refuge in that cliche anymore. Think seriously on it. VRH
She said wait and I will get my hat on and be ready to go! And her hat is on and she has her bag and is ready for fun! For our little one who is the best of blends. . . like good coffee or fine wine, she is a sparkler. Weighing in early last Thanksgiving time at one pound 12 ounces, she is holding her own bottle and her grandfather said that driver training is next!
I am fortunate to be her grandmother great though I have not seen her in this world. I need escorts to the car in the driveway because my legs are as wobbly as Emma E.’s are yet. Her legs will grow sturdier and mine not, to be sure. Her life will be filled with awe, as mine continues to be. Her complaints will loom large in irritation to restriction, as surely mine do. Both of our heads know what we desire to accomplish, though the surroundings differ. We both will do what we need to do for the greater good.
Thank you all for your good wishes, thoughts and prayers. Good has no boundaries and we have been grateful to see our Emma E. responding magnificently. Your wishes have been a salve for our hearts.
photo by Merideth, mom
of Emma E.
Sometimes it is necessary to be reminded to unglue ourselves from what is inundating the Ethers, to look upon each other as the most important for the moment. Take this as a gentle reminder. All we have is this moment.
To Savor The Minute. . . .
Could we take the time
to savor this minute?
Hold it close?
There will be more minutes,
but none more special
than this one.
It tells me that you
treasure our friendship
to show our true feelings
that connect us,
one to the other.
I will remember the marks
on my life you put there
when you took time to rescue
the self I thought I lost.
Today I am whole. Forever drawn
as a heart beating steadily as if
with an inserted pacemaker
but with gratitude transcending its beat.
Gleanings . . .
If you do not intend to look back, remember to lift the plough. And sometimes the plough seems too heavy to lift but we push on anyway to find it is a joy and a privilege.
*****
Always state the condition of the heart in preference to appearance. You will then see with eyes destined for immortality while you walk.
*****
Sometimes doing nothing at all helps a someone to mature faster than times which are hard on the heart. Or doing nothing at all ruins a person more quickly by hardening the heart than times which are hard on the pocket book.
*****
Listen carefully to my heartbeat for you will hear your own.
*****
The greatest gift is that of the thinking mind.
*****
With the shrug of the shoulders, no work is ever completed. It is with the footwork involved that we see what the work has meant.
*****
Do not expect what cannot be delivered.
*****
When you lament where is the end and in what universe is it all and then to conclude it is all universally good is not valid. For then when you see where it is you are, the last chapter would be writ. There is no last chapter. Life is everlasting.
*****
With aging the blanks in memory are embarrassing and the pressures of the fast moving society makes them appear more frequently. It has always been thus.
*****
Everything becomes a moral decision if one holds the long view. Yet the long view is the only one and demands it lest there be no tomorrow for those whose propensity is for instant gratification.
*****
To suffer is to be aware of the damage you do to the ones you care about.
photo by
Kathy Rybacki Qualiana
Now, tell me what you think. . . .
Now talk to me,
and tell me what you think.
I want to know the conclusions
you have reached.
Tell me what you know,
not what others have said.
I can read what they have said
about any number of topics.
I want to hear your thoughts,
and how you come by them.
What does this say to you
about how you arrive at this place
in time?
I tire of hearing what the talking heads
have read and tire of hearing variances
of the same story.
I want no quotes. I want your thought.
You have lived long enough
to have a say, to know your gut feeling.
No time is right anymore for talk.
The devices tell with a click what is
the current thinking. Of everyone.
I want to know why your heart keeps beating
and you keep on keeping on
when our country totters amidst
constitutional crisis. And morality changes.
And the Earth’s countries are slugging it out.
But most of all why you think
it is worth a tinker’s damn to care about.
I realize I am only an audience of one,
but I want to know what you know.
I want to burglarize your mental house.
So tell me. Your thoughts will be original to me
and I will be the richer for them.
I will happily walk to the Memory Bank with them.
It is there I have an open account.
Can One Be a Better Anything Than One Is a Person?
Many times, even vehemently, it has been stated that one cannot be a better anything than one is a person. And the lesson is one well taken. It would seem that more work is needed in the moral posturing of would be leaders. Lessons learned are not the ones they would be most proud of. And the big lesson here is that there are many who feel that as long as they pay their bills and do good, nothing else should be questioned.
All who aspire to leadership of the common man, the average man needing the guidance of astute leaders wish to see those portions of one’s life one wants to hide, remain hidden. But is it fair to place a man in leadership where when the big issues are approached one questions the integrity of the person?
Again we are at the basic assumption of whether one can be a better anything than one is a person. What about one’s commitments, one’s honor, one’s word? What about these values which have built people’s lives into civilized containers that have led many toward better health and quality lives?
In teaching morality to the young, for they will again need to be taught, is it the proper response to a biological function to say wear a condom or to say the highest of all human emotions regarding the sanctity of life needs to be placed in the highest category and not relegated to minute entertainment?
We have more than moral integrity on the line. Should we also ask the aspiring candidates for medical tests to ensure that their tour of duty will not be interrupted by a social disease?
We ask that the nation united behind a leader who asks that one give his life in war noting that the issue is argued in good conscience by objectors of war. And that same individual will unaccountably say that he could not commit himself to the marriage union without straying but in that case it was all right for only his near ones were involved.
The arbitrary disposition of such procedures still must be argued. The arbitrary compulsiveness when the individual has no control over his own body yet wishes to control all bodies of all persons makes little sense. Into whose hands does the common, average person place his conscience?
What one does behind closed door will be argued as private. Yet war is not private but public, for all to participate in, to maim and kill and honor and dishonor one another. It would seem fruitless to go further. It would seem not a cogent nor coherent thing to do to espouse maturity in judgment concerning matters of state when matters of personal discipline are questionable.
It would seem to an enlightened electorate that what is evidenced and is not questionable due to personal motives, be the guideline where the very large issue of personal integrity is at stake. It would seem that perhaps all issues which neither fit nor are comfortable for the human be disregarded. And should that be the case, what would be substituted as guidelines for those looking for direction on what to do?
We could dissolve into a sensual state where the pleasures of the body rule. Where when one is at a loss in the face of large issues, one buries oneself in the momentary oblivion of the physical. Perhaps that is the direction humanity wishes to go. It would be far easier and soon there would be chaos in the streets where rape and pillage would not be an issue but a norm.
Perhaps it is carried to an extreme with this analogy. But what we see when man reaches the age of reason, whatever that means in terms of legality, there must also come a discipline which is self imposed. Perhaps there must be a waiting time for what is most desired.
Perhaps there must be new priorities set upon those common things of marriage and children. But there must be education. And there must be direction that will give the young avenues upon which their raging hormones can be vented in good use. Not in the making of more babies and not in the promiscuous behavior which is given clemency in everyone’s mind.
Strange, isn’t it? That the kind of behavior we espouse is behavior which in other times and places was simply called decent; the proper thing to do. But obviously not in these times and this place.
In accordance with today’s mores, today’s values, and the statistics on the spread of diseases which can affect even the most productive life, of need will be a new adaptation of what it is the human body can withstand. It would seem child’s play in retrospect to rediscover that education and an adherence to Victorian attitudes is in order. But not with the ancient embarrassment attached to the human body.
With an attitude of understanding that the human body is vulnerable and the human psyche not equal to healing as quickly as one would suppose. Even with death as a specter, reason should tell us that the human being is of quality as to be revered. Not a conquest of the adolescent but to be honored and revered in direct proportion vulnerable as is one’s own life.
A thorough understanding of what human life is all about is in order. A better understanding of what the fallout of promiscuous behavior has on the young should be apparent to all. Lessons we teach are often not the lessons we wish to teach. It would seem obvious to the thinker that lines of discipline are instituted for the just purpose of preserving life. The thinking one knows this.
Those bent on shaking and moving must also be taught that discipline becomes the first one, and that is the individual. Then the example will be the best teacher. One has listened to the old adage ‘do as I say and not as I do.’ And yet when the authority figure in question sets examples that may lead to debility if practiced by another, one should first of all question the authority and wonder the example he sets.
There are those who argue for the privacy of the individual to do what he or she pleases behind closed doors. Contagious diseases are not silent. They ride rampant and they maim.
In these days where nothing is private, it best behooves the individuals running for highest offices in the land, offices that yearn to set an example for the commoner as well as the foreigner, or the office that wishes to unite the world in peace and brotherhood, be above reproach.
The kinds of issues that are brought up with the undisciplined individual are many. We started off with the undisciplined in body. The body is what we try to master first. If we are not able to master the body’s rage and desires, how then can we even begin to give appetite to others’ lives?
The individual who loves plants and wishes to water and feed them, knowing what is required, will be a good tenderer. The individual who wishes to be a physician will know how important it is to be first a doctor. The individual who wishes to be an educator must at first be a good teacher.
There are differences attached but the each must first be developed a discipline. And discipline ranges the professions in the same measure as ranges within the individual.
In the outward things, man does not appear to have difficulty, assuming as he does that the work will be affected by the effort. So in the human condition. The individual will be affected with the results of undisciplined behavior. It cannot be stressed too highly how the undisciplined, whether in private life or public life will have an effect upon those they wish to reach. And the lessons we teach might be those we wish we had not.
My Sanctuary, My Earth. . .
What I found in the sanctuary of my yard, a church if you will, and still do, is a pull, albeit a magnetic one, to a something that transcends the physical. I function in the physical, but never seeing it in just a single dimension. There is a height, a depth and an all embracing width that I try to gather into my arms. You are in that embrace.
I have written where I see in a glance the essence as well as the result, the consequence. It is admiring the garden and appreciating the gardener, seated at banquet and knowing its intricate preparation and thanking the farmer. It takes away the spontaneity and surprise; both a curse and a blessing. What it gives is a first rate conscience and sense of responsibility. It has you working till you drop but chalking few regrets with gratitude for life and thanking the giver for it.
You might ask, who cares? What difference does it make? One day you will care and to you it will make a big difference. You are its prayer, its question and its answer. In you are the answers to what your life means. There are no other answers. You are the answer. You are the unsuspecting shoulders upon whom the answer rests. You will be the answer to who cares. And you will care a lot.
Our Hearts Speak. . .
As we enjoin the universal spirit
to entrust us with another spring,
another resurrection,
awaken within us the desire
to nurture the world
that has nurtured us.
Let our hearts lead us
to that place where
we intuitively cherish the mother
who feeds and clothes us and
gives us sustenance.
Let us not forsake our responsibilities
to those yet unborn but whose futures
we have already mortgaged.
Blessed Spirit, enliven our curiousity
about our daily world, remind us
that the bird’s song needs our
acknowledgement and praise,
that the sun needs our greeting
and the night wishes it bid good.
As we nourish those of our commitment,
speak to us of our commitment
to the home we know, our planet Earth.
Let our love guide us to make beautiful,
to make secure and to guard diligently
what has so faithfully harbored us.
In love we pray, Amen, amen.
{scribed April 5, 1991}
artwork by Claudia Hallissey
