The truth that came to Urszula on June 19, 2020
It was a beautiful, hot, somewhat humid, sunny day.
One could feel the possibility of a cooling summer thunderstorm that may or may not come in the late afternoon hours.
She could feel in her body that something had recently shifted.
Her being had somehow changed.
The body knew the truth.
The body was the Truth.
It was through a presence in the body, and all its limitations, that she could fully experience living, fully manifest her Self in this embodiment, this life.
There’s a freedom to it. …
I recently had a dream that followed me all day. It shook me and had me thinking.
In my dream, my yoga teacher of many years was allowing inexperienced yogis to lead classes. She was also telling others how bad I was as a yoga teacher and bad mouthing me.
I went to a class that she was supposed to teach, but some inexperienced students from her class were teaching. During relaxation, they were playing pop music, which really bothered me. I got up, rolled up my mat, and began yelling: “You’re not supposed to play music during relaxation, especially…
There are days the beauty of the world (and man’s creations — music, art, literature, etc.) overwhelms me and brings me to tears.
I really don’t understand how we can just live like this, destroying the planet and each other, when there is so much beauty and good here. Why can’t we as a society see this? See the beauty, the goodness?
We’re stuck in a world dominated by fear and hate. But I see the love. It colors the leaves green and the petals of the rose crimson. It emboldens the nightingale’s tune. …
Our lives all have their challenges.
We have expectations, preconceived ideas of what our lives should be like. We’re impatient, sometimes we even feel entitled, deserving, like someone owes us.
Even though I hate to admit it, I know I often feel this way. There’s so much I want, there’s so much I deserve, there’s so much I should have. I’ve got all these scenarios about what my life should look like, along with all the things and people in it.
In addition, I expect so damn much from myself, my skills, abilities, even my body. Often, I don’t live…
I first met Mrs. Rose when her husband invited me to a soiree they were hosting. They were the type of people who used words like soiree, darling, lovely, and bosom. Her husband, Mark Rose, was an accountant at the paper I worked for. We became friendly over scotch one cold, winter snow day when no one else bothered to show up to work.
That day, we drank and he told me about his wife, a perfect specimen of womanhood and femininity, in his opinion.
“Not that she’s dainty, darling,” he emphasized over and over as he told me more…
the danger of forgetting
the amber blaze
the deaths of hundreds
forced into a barn
This poem was written in memory of the many who died in the Holocaust, leaving no trace, but especially those burned and murdered by their neighbors in the Polish countryside. Places like Jedwabne, Radzilow, Wasosz…
During WWII (mostly in 1941), many Polish Jews were massacred in pogroms in several small towns in Poland. Often, they were locked in a barn or other wooden building and burned. Over 300 people died in Jedwabne, Poland. …
Just get on the train.
You can do it, Jack.
There’s nothing to be afraid of. One foot in front of the other.
That’s right. You can do it, Jack. There’s nothing to be afraid of.
Next, take a seat. Good job. Half the battle is won, ol’ boy.
That wasn’t so hard, was it?
Now all you have to do is just wait it out to the next train station. That’s all. Just stay here and get off at the next station. OK.
So, we’re moving. This isn’t so bad. This is fine. I’m doing fine. Just a walk…