Wednesday, March 18, 2015


I thought better of doing it without asking. Some people are sensitive and what I knew of her history led me to believe she might be, too.

"May I touch your face?"

She said yes. I gently put my hands on her cheeks and looked into her eyes.

"You. Are. Beautiful."

I think I said something else, I don't really remember. She beamed.

A few weeks later, the next time I saw her, she told me how much that had meant to her.

I have been thinking about her, a young woman with a story of heartbreak and resilience, whose vulnerability and strength I've had the privilege to witness.
She is a poet -
slam poetry
strong words
strong emotion

I recently shared the words of another young woman here, a weaver of words in her own right, weaving a picture that is yet to be realized -
expressing hope
broad vision
strong voice in a place where it's not encouraged

Monthly I meet with a group of women, some of whom I've know for years, some of whom are recent friends. We share stories. Our stories, our beings, in some ways so different, echo familiar choruses -
fear and comfort
certainty and questions
seeking clarity and fluidity
daring honesty

Reflecting on these vulnerablebeautifulstrong women, I recall a time recently when I tried to reveal my Self and left feeling like a vulnerableuglydeflated woman. And then another time when I didn't trust my vulnerablebeautifulstrong Self and left words (and not even particularly difficult words) unspoken. It took the reassurance of two friends to help me accept my vulnerable Self, so that I may work my way back to embodiment of vulnerablebeautifulstrong.

These thoughts bring me back, as so often happens, to Love Poems from God: 
From Hafiz:

The True Nature of Your Beloved

the true nature of your

loving eyes
your every thought, word, and movement
is always, always


From St. Catherine of Siena:

Your Hair, Your Face

What is it
you want to change?
Your hair, your face, your body? 

For God is
in love with all those things
and He might weep
when they are 

From Tukaram: 

First He Looked Confused

I could not lie anymore so I started to call my dog "God."
First he looked

then he started smiling, the he even

I kept at it: now he doesn't even

I am wondering if this 
might work on 

What if,
what if,
what if we knew own beauty, through God's eyes, always?

What if,
what if,
what if we accepted that God is in love with every part of us?

What if,
what if,
what if we used the name of the Divine when we called ourselves and others to consciousness?

What if,
what if,
what if we someday removed the what ifs?

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