December 30, 2025

look at us, being so human **

We are trying to hold the contractions. Desire and patience. The blank canvas and the mixing bowl and a vessel, continuously filling. How to be the one candle in the whole room. Or less machete, more nail scissors.

We have to remember change is the only constant, that the past is a vault but the present, a portal. When it comes down do it, beingness is our only job, taking this one breath, and then the next. Yes, it feels like never enough and yet it is always enough. 

So let’s take a minute to do nothing. To feel the ground beneath our feet. To consider ourselves a container of connection and inhabit the fullness of the incremental. Like a single grain of sand, for example. Or soil. Or a thread, however frayed. 

Look at us, being so human. Our unfolding textures. Our tenderness. Our fear. Our gratitude. Are we amazing or what? 

Let’s keep starting now and now and now, remaking the world sometimes with flowers, but always with seeds. Always with the magnitude of our arms and the wisdom of our art and the rhythm in our music and courage.

Let’s release what no longer feeds us, have every action be a devotion and know every tiny movement moves the needle and believe that whatever we reach for, we can touch, even when our heart cries Uncle. Even when we have to rest. For one day, presence. For one day, love. 

** ** I composed this poem using fragments of New Year “mantras” I wrote in response to an invitation I made on this Facebook post.