Feeling the mycelium beneath my feet
A woven tapestry of nurturance
A vast cooperation of life in Oneness
Feeling the giant maple whisper her rooted
story to her beloveds for as One
We thrive in the net-work of living
Feeling the air skim my flesh in the
Invisible gift of each breath offered
Clarity of purpose uninterrupted
Feeling the tears rise for the spilling
A salty sea of remembrance to be shed
For All that need to grieve in surrender
Feeling this vastness of Connection
Of how I am all that and none of it.
The Earth of me
The Heart of me
The Breath of me
The Bright Spirit of me
Feeling it all to know it All
Being it all to live it all
Breathing it all in for the sake
Of Knowing the Deep gift of this simple
Truth
copyright. jeanne adwani
This writing and this poem that will come at the
end of this narrative, was inspired by Wendall Berry,
The Peace of Wild Things, and Mary Oliver's poem
Wild Geese.
It's the 'Wild' in both of these that called out to
me this morning. The freedom in the Wild that
during this time of sequestered sheltering, doesn't
feel so free, so wild. So, I go into 'remembrance'
of that first time when that wild freedom flowed over
me and all I could do was let it have me. I dedicate
this Earth Day, this New Moon day, My day to The Wild.
~~
In 1966 the song Wild Thing came out. It seemed a
call out to the way of the world then, one of the
freedom calls of that era of Vietnam, free love, and
the peace movement. It felt a call to young women to
let their freak flag fly, be groovy, make heart's sing.
Wild Thing
The Troggs
"Wild thing
You make my heart sing
You make everything, groovy
Wild thing
Wild thing, I, think I love you
But I want to know for sure
So come on, and hold me tight
I love you
Wild thing
You make my heart sing
You make everything, groovy
Wild thing
Wild thing, I, think you move me
But I want to know for sure
So come on, and hold me tight
You move me
Wild thing
You make my heart sing
You make everything, groovy
Wild thing
Come on, come on, wild thing
Shake it, shake it, wild thing"
I had moved for that summer to Hamilton, ON to
be part of a program put on by my Uncle, the priest.
I lived in a German Lutheran Church parsonage on
the edge of downtown Hamilton, with four other
young people whose names I have forgotten.
We were a diverse group, I was the only one from
the U.S., and I was a family member of the leader.
That placed me in a position of either being special
in a suspicious way, or being that 'other' that was
clearly a bit of a wild thing; unpredictable,
amusing and just cute enough to stir everyone's pot
up with a certain charm. I was an unknown factor.
I was liked, and often not trusted to be present in
the way of the rules given down by my revered Uncle.
I had rebellion written on my soul and there was no
way to stop it.
I was a Wild Thing. My then boyfriend, Scotty, that I
had left at home in Michigan, had sent me that record
about a month into this program. It came with a
very endearing card of love and missing that tickle
at my hearts edges. I was already crushed out on one
of my Uncles students that paid visit to us, probably
to see how we were all doing on behalf of him.
Henry, dear sweet Henry. Someone I will never forget.
It was confusing for me at 18, sassy, cute, smart,
curious beyond measure, to have a boyfriend at home,
and this unique, 'older' guy really wanting to know
me. It brought the wild of me to all my surfaces and
made my decisions based on the immediate rather than
anything thought out.
Henry was willing to accommodate pretty much my every
whim. I knew his crush on me made him vulnerable to
my charms. I took advantage of that with a frivolity
I had no idea of it's hurtful and joyful impact,
to both of us, to the program, to my uncle.
In my playfulness, my spontaneity, my overall
first-time-away-from-home freedom, I was pushing
life's edges in ways that were freeing for me, and
tedious and confusing for others.
That awareness for me came later. I was testing the
world and people around me, finding where I might
fit my creative, wild spirited self.
Who were my people?
What kind of Wild Thing would I be?
A Pantoum to The Wild.
Race the Wild self across freedom's radiance
Soar wide out into the vast unknown moments
Welcome the curious creative Spirit on fire
Hold back nothing in the Everything
Soar wide out into the vast unknown moments
Let the menace and frolic find pure release
Hold back nothing in the Everything
Earth, Fire, Air, Water are the orchestra
Let the menace and frolic find pure release
Be the clear channel of paradox in it's dance
Earth, Fire, Air, Water are the orchestra
Infinity is a boundless playground waiting.
BE the clear channel of paradox in it's dance
Welcome the curious creative Spirit on fire
Infinity is a boundless playground waiting
Race the Wild self across freedom's radiance
copyright. jeanne adwani
I am a poem of painted symbols, ancient wisdoms
Crafted visuals, words with rhyme and reason
in the no reason at all in inky color prisms
Color frequencies, Pirate girls, mystic Mama
Bengali Tiger, peace, and love, vampire bites
dripping blood, Dante's Furies and wordless drama
A her-story of talisman, primal remembrances
A needled rapture of yesterdays longing
etched beneath my tender flesh in my transparence
Yes it hurt with a celebrated welcome
Leave that judge of yours off my skin
I am rich in story as it is my rebellion
Poetry becomes me. It is a wound I choose to wear
Even tho' you may read me on my surfaces
It's to the heart of me that waits the deeper share
copyright jeanne adwani
It is not for wondering if not why
How the quiet and lasting solitude
In shelter we place so much on 2Ply
Wiped out from groceries in great magnitude
When needing to wipe mean something new
Who ever knew that this loss could happen
The race for restocking such a boohoo
Puts a whole different hit on this shut-in
You figured the 2ply, now it's 'bout food
Will they deliver, or grab carry-out?
Decisions are messy in what to do
Pandemic crisis create so much doubt
Priorities messy, really quite segued
Stay in and humble for others need you too
copyright jeanne adwani
It's in the small kindnesses
In the feeling heard, being seen
The way eyes meet and you know
It's in the acts of gratitude
the gesture with no word attached
Of words that come from the heart
It's in the actions that speak
Louder than superfluous verbosity
full of empty promises.
It's in the giving that requires
no receive, no laud, no fame
a welcome silence in the blare
It's in the doing nothing
That that something finds it's way
to the surface that needs doing
It's in the know that you are there
on the other side of the world
across the street, in front of me
It's enough to feel that presence
surrounding me and that I am Loved
and held tenderly to your heart
copyright jeanne adwani
Collaborative conversations with Life's wise whispers in service to personal and communal evolution. To book personal appointments and group experiences, contact me at circleways.james@gmail.com or at (416) 966 - 2685.
“Everyone who is seriously involved in the pursuit of science becomes convinced that some spirit is manifest in the laws of the universe, one that is vastly superior to that of man.” - Albert Einstein