The 60-Second Sabbath

Three Sorrows (Three Liberations)

I.
We must
heal the wounds of childhood
to find freedom
from the constricting stories
written there. 

II.
Wake up tomorrow
no longer remembering
your personal narrative,
all its falsehoods forgotten:
    "I'm too..."
    "I can't..."    
    "I'll never be good enough to..."
    "I'm this way because..." 

What if you had no story?
What if all you had
was the completely open possibility
of now?

Who would you be
if freed from your story?

III.

Our stories
about ourselves
do not make us who we are;
our stories
about ourselves
keep us from being who we are.

Our stories
provide the walls
of our cells,
comforting, perhaps,
but at what cost?

We are prisoners
clutching the bars of those cells,
while doorways
wait open behind us.

Text and image © 2013 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.

Beautifully Average

She announced to her mirrored self,
"Today I shall celebrate
simply being human.
That is enough."

She tilted her blue, velvet beret
a little to the left,
smiled acceptingly,
and walked out the door,
for now, at least,
beautifully average.

Text and image © 2013 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.

A Diner in Central PA

sepia photos on the walls
old
the color of memory

a brick house shadowed by tall trees
a two-story business district
a trolley car linked to overhead lines

this could be my history
my history pinned to these walls
long enough ago now
to be a curiosity
for people to stop and wonder
what life was like, back then

I sat on that porch
wandered those blocks, staring into shop windows,
rode that trolley

those places in those towns in those times

I remember

Text and image © 2013 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.

Moving

There is the making of the decision.
There is the hiring of the realtor.
There is the filling of the forms
    and the signing of the forms.
There is the talking with the lender
    and the filling of more forms,
    and the signing of more forms,
    and the finding, scanning, e-mailing and
        faxing of documents,
    and the repeating of all of this.
There is the searching for a new home,
    and the decluttering of the old,
    and the sudden exiting of the old so strangers
        can come through,
    and the fixing of those things you could have fixed
        before and enjoyed having fixed. 
There is the giving away to friends, to neighbors,
        to Goodwill.
There is the packing,
    and once again the giving away,
    and the returning of things to their rightful owners,
    and the questioning of one's acquisitions/taste
        in the past. 
There is the reviewing of one's history,
    and the grieving for parts thereof,
    and the committing to living with less from now on.
There is the searching for movers and electricians and
        handy-people, and friends with large cars and SUVs,
    and the wondering if it all, with, in fact,
        come together in time,
    and the great letting go of control,
    and the great letting go of control.

This is moving.

Text and image © 2013 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.

 

Real Hunger

The starving
know

real hunger
opens the tall doors
to the banquet hall. 

Text and image © 2013 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.

Incarnation

Somewhere in the suburbs
a child is born
who will transform
our sameness and sadness
into light and beauty.

Is the child yours?

Are you the child?

Text and image © 2013 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.

Mickey

Yes, Virginia,
there is a Mickey Mouse.
As surely as there is purity and open-armed acceptance,
    laughter and joy,
    innocence and playfulness,
there is a laughing, smiling rodent
whose heart is big enough
to embrace all the childlike and trusting souls of the world
who long to know freedom
from dysfunction and judgment.

There are cynics
(and other sad folks)
who will try to tell you otherwise.
There are those who think,
in the name of honesty,
that they must dissuade you
of your hopefulness and joy.
In actuality,
these are people threatened by your happiness
because to allow the existence of happiness
in a world where they cannot feel happiness
means, to them, that they are lacking something,
and that's something they cannot bear.

So yes, the mouse is real.
When we love others,
the mouse is real.
When we play unselfconsciously,
the mouse is real.
When we live free of judgment,
the mouse is real.

Believe, Virginia,
believe.

Text and image © 2013 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.