Every breath is a call to the joy of consciousness. If I’m afraid of that consciousness coming to an end, or try to think of ways I can hold onto it forever, the joy immediately slips away. Joy then becomes just one more word in a numbing, distracting intellectual exercise in which I’m both martyr and hero. When that happens, the moment simply goes on without me. It doesn’t matter […]
Perhaps the oldest language is the one spoken by the body to its conscious inhabitant. And all that is needed to understand it, is a willingness to listen. To habitually ignore or purposefully misconstrue what the body says causes an unnecessary battle that cannot be won. The body speaks only the truth, and cannot be fooled. Its memory, moreover, is perfect. And yet, at every turn, its kindness is revealed. […]
At lunch today we had our first apple of the season, a crisp, juicy representative of a variety called Smitten. It struck us both as the apple of a lifetime, the inspiring result of a rare combination of events forever and well beyond our control. Alive in a universe many billions of years old, conscious in bodies made of star-stuff — is it any wonder we are so easily and […]
Slow verse, dry stones, the river shows her age. Kind nurse, soft tones, her smile full of maple leaves. August 20, 2021 . Shall I Tell You of My Former Life? Shall I tell you of my former life? It happens in the strangest way, today, not yesterday, before tomorrow begins, and where my new life ends, over, and yet over, again. Like smoke, it rides the wind, and as […]
All the little things — I love how they break and throw off sparks. I was a sower once; in my pouch, there were ten thousand suns. In those days, I was man and woman both. I am still. Hold me to the light. Turn me gently in your palm. Recently Banned Literature, November 8, 2011 . [ 1168 ]
And you think, O, how I will speak, when given the chance; and when the chance finally comes, not a single word accompanies its arrival; instead, you are a tree, in the salt breeze, a shower of spray at your feet; and you think, O, how can I speak, when given to dance; and the sea, relentless, speaks for you; and you find it all blessed, blessed, and grand. Recently […]
A clear, quiet dawn. Forty-nine degrees. Barefoot on the dew-soaked grass. If a church is a sacred place, so is a hospital, so is a barn, so is a kitchen or playground. Everything is sacred or nothing is, yet most people think they can pick and choose. They think they know. They think they can perceive a difference. They see as divided a world that is whole. Tiny peppers. Tiny […]
Whatever we anticipate, whatever we dread or desire — good, bad, peace, strife, difficulty, ease, agitation, calm — might or might not come to pass. We can, in other words, be floating on a cloud or tied in knots by something that doesn’t exist. And when we’re caught up in this state, what do we miss? Everything — even this: a tiny bird, drinking rainwater from an ivy leaf. June […]
After writing for so many years, after devoting so many pages to pixel and print, it’s only right to ask myself what, or how much, I might be keeping hidden — not from those who are kind enough to read them, but from the one sitting here, tapping away at his keyboard. It’s not simply a matter of confession. Even if I were to divulge the most private and personal […]
There are only three hundred sixty-five days in a year, yet that short time is enough for the passing of four miraculous seasons. Each day is one of significant change, and though it holds reminders of those just passed, and promise of those to come, it is in itself unique and profoundly alone, ready to be welcomed, loved, appreciated, noticed — and then . . . and then, it is […]
William Michaelian 