in the big vast ocean/where the miracles begin

when in doubt, scrub the mildew from the shower wall, separate everything you own and rearrange it, open and close your fists, stare at the ceiling fan, sweep again – the dust is always creeping.

negotiate with the spiders on home space, write a secret song or private poem, go back and read about all those previous heartbreaks, and see how brave you have been, how far off and unfrightening they are now that you are now.

make a list of your brilliant ideas.
revel in all this doing.

then, when in doubt, manifest a celebration.

let clay dry all over your face, put jasmine and roses in your hair, make a feast for seven days, press coconut oil into your legs, stare at the ceiling fan, hear the crickets and the buses, and eventually the neighbor’s rooster waking up the chicory and concrete corners – you need this human silence.

then, when in doubt, find the mirror and see the way you are becoming.

marvel that there is so much you do not know, will not know as flesh. laugh at your own tender patterns, such a complex path and yet, still, just one path. and in spite of the uncertainty, you keep moving into your life…at times in that sun drenched ballroom hustle, at times in this sloppy and weeping crawl.

and then, when you find yourself in that big vast ocean, no shore in sight, no sun or star, your own salt on your lips and your tongue, your own clean dark house so utterly far behind you, and when you start to wonder again why why why again…

remember it is abundance you are feeling.

an abundant love you are grieving, an abundant space to create and create, an abundance of moments which require all of you, which you earned by opening, an abundance of futures as yet uncompromised.

then, if you can bear it, turn over on your back girl, and float, and be held. feel the comforting swell of all you do not control or comprehend. let yourself be salt water blood and skin, you are the settling mud, the water, and the dust where miracles begin.

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