I read this first a few days ago, Kimberly but was reticent to attempt even a little 'yes' in comment. And an emoji didn't seem even close to speaking meaningfully.
There is a temple in the midst of sprawling, noisy Bangkok older than the city of Bangkok itself with an immense, reclining Buddha where prayers and incense have been floating upward in hushed praise and supplication since at least the sixteen hundreds. You may know it, or perhaps not. I'd be mortified to attempt to mansplain its sense of awe to someone who already knows it well. It is one of 'those' places, Wat Po. A living, working temple with a sense of calm that defies its surroundings and settles beside me just thinking about it again. One removes one's shoes to enter this wondrous temple and if one can locate and invite that quiet place within oneself to rise and feel, and listen there is big, soft, earnest magic to sit with and within, magic that smells of incense and Thai spices warmed by the bodily heat and scents of countless earnest supplicants over time.
Stepping into such a personal story, standing beside someone's offered and risked vulnerability feels like entry into a temple for me. I am there, but I don't want or need to draw attention to the fact that I am there or make my being there part of the story.
Would that there was a way to light a stick of incense, having read a story, an affirmation, an acknowledgement of having been there, of wanting to make some meaningful gesture without interjecting oneself into the story.
🙏 Hands together, head bowed momentarily... Namasté
How beautiful David. You can mansplain all you want, especially when it involves your experiences of soft, earnest magic. Damn Steve Jobs for not inventing an i-Incense functionality on our phones so we can all pause in quiet reverence when we need to? Bowing back to you and the Wat Po temples you create everyday through your awakened presence.
These poems, the call and response between father and daughter, spanning years and crossing the veil…they make reality dissolve a little around the edges (and all good poetry should) while they somehow crystallize the seemingly unreal. Echos meeting is a meeting, nonetheless. I’m just fascinated by what these poems do to my brain. Thank you, and Charlie.
"Echos meeting is a meeting, nonetheless" - you have such an extraordinary way with words, crystallizing exactly what I'm trying to do/say into one perfect phrase Chloe!
It's been such a joy to read your amazing journey of family. Your honesty, your creative responses to very challenging circumstances, and your continuing compassion for yourself and your world are all simply inspiring. Thank you for being and for expressing yourself so beautifully. It's a gift to us all.
What a beautiful comment Dawn. It's especially moving to hear that my "creative responses to challenging circumstance" (though I would never admit to those being conscious choices!) somehow serve as an inspiration/possibility for others going through their own dark night.
A few more chapters to go and then this year-long serialized adventure will be complete! I'm deeply grateful and honored you've been with me for the entire journey. xo
The way you write about the coming of hope gives me hope for reasons I can't hear explain but some day will be able to do so, I hope (to be redundant), dear virtual friend.
Intuitive. For me, the number one defining , often overlooked qualification of the right physician.
Intuitive. Take in the word and allow it to define insight , an awareness of feelings, knowing .The distant shore you’ve been reaching for. A mirror of words past and present.
I like seeing them together.
“…while a room the size of sky holds friendship experiences virginity”
🕊️
“…while an exhale the size of infinity holds hibernal emptiness silence surrender”
Oh my... yes Lor. Without giving it much analysis, this journey of building a bridge between a father's past and my present has been a very intuitive process. Felt often more necessary, urgent, muddied and riddled with angst but perhaps that's often the rich, layered soil from which intuition arises.
P.S. I love that every time I see your name, reflect on your words, I conjure a sweet Labrador tongue in my mind's eye. Forever you will be associated with this. ;)
Well then , you may as well be introduced; meet Ranger, our Golden Retriever. I love this picture. I tell friends that Ranger is the only one that laughs at my husband’s jokes. Truth be told, this is his very first ride in a vehicle to his new home.
He’s about to get car sick….
Hope I didn’t ruin it for you.
Now you’ll laugh when you see his photo, and that’s not a bad thing.
This chapter felt like there was some light at the end of the tunnel, or maybe it’s better to say (as I heard it once) — that this chapter seemed to convey that your eyes are adjusting to the dark. :)
This chapter felt like an exhale, full of fat tears and heart pangs. You can feel your courage in every line. The courage to accept this new way of life, doing it with so much love and grace for yourself and for others. It is a bumpy wild ride to acceptance. I'm so proud of you, Kimberly.
Those father-daughter poems get me every time! As always, I. thank you for the good cry.
Sigh. Your replies are always such a warm embrace Jenovia. Wherever there might be drought, I'm sending you and your beautiful well of tears to heal the earth. You heal me simply through your deep empathy and understanding.
Those last three lines written in reply to Charlie’s own beauties…. Sighing deeply here…
Grace has always been a word I cling to, a word I hold in reverence, to me the importance of grace is almost that of staying healthy, perhaps even part of it… more people should pay attention to grace! Perhaps I am out of date, not up with the general feeling of times and change but I see we are not resistant in these modern times, we fold, we complain, we give in to the slightest difficulties and yet, you remained graceful throughout two such painfully worrying years… it is not clear to me how - perhaps you had huge faith, latent deep inside that refused to allow doubt a stronghold, I don’t know but you did!
And all the while you created family, you held together your own…
I hope your hope and faith are contagious!
I am beginning the exhale…. With love dear Kimberly xx
Awww, dear Susie. I feel so seen by you. What a gift of a lifetime to discover a treasured human halfway across the globe who, through a simple but oh-so-intentional exchange of words, pierces into the heart of my expression. I didn't have any words to share during those two years and even more to follow, feeling more like a quiet seed planted, waiting, feeling the pressure of earth atop my existence. But just like the hopeful coding inside any seed, I think you're right, something in me (un)knew that spring would come... eventually. So much love for you Susie!
The resolution of tension, as your poetic reply to Charlie beautifully expresses, IS “grace”. Where mind and heart finally relax their battle, into a long awaited “acceptance”. A welcome exhale…and a new direction. 💕
I read this first a few days ago, Kimberly but was reticent to attempt even a little 'yes' in comment. And an emoji didn't seem even close to speaking meaningfully.
There is a temple in the midst of sprawling, noisy Bangkok older than the city of Bangkok itself with an immense, reclining Buddha where prayers and incense have been floating upward in hushed praise and supplication since at least the sixteen hundreds. You may know it, or perhaps not. I'd be mortified to attempt to mansplain its sense of awe to someone who already knows it well. It is one of 'those' places, Wat Po. A living, working temple with a sense of calm that defies its surroundings and settles beside me just thinking about it again. One removes one's shoes to enter this wondrous temple and if one can locate and invite that quiet place within oneself to rise and feel, and listen there is big, soft, earnest magic to sit with and within, magic that smells of incense and Thai spices warmed by the bodily heat and scents of countless earnest supplicants over time.
Stepping into such a personal story, standing beside someone's offered and risked vulnerability feels like entry into a temple for me. I am there, but I don't want or need to draw attention to the fact that I am there or make my being there part of the story.
Would that there was a way to light a stick of incense, having read a story, an affirmation, an acknowledgement of having been there, of wanting to make some meaningful gesture without interjecting oneself into the story.
🙏 Hands together, head bowed momentarily... Namasté
How beautiful David. You can mansplain all you want, especially when it involves your experiences of soft, earnest magic. Damn Steve Jobs for not inventing an i-Incense functionality on our phones so we can all pause in quiet reverence when we need to? Bowing back to you and the Wat Po temples you create everyday through your awakened presence.
These poems, the call and response between father and daughter, spanning years and crossing the veil…they make reality dissolve a little around the edges (and all good poetry should) while they somehow crystallize the seemingly unreal. Echos meeting is a meeting, nonetheless. I’m just fascinated by what these poems do to my brain. Thank you, and Charlie.
"Echos meeting is a meeting, nonetheless" - you have such an extraordinary way with words, crystallizing exactly what I'm trying to do/say into one perfect phrase Chloe!
It's been such a joy to read your amazing journey of family. Your honesty, your creative responses to very challenging circumstances, and your continuing compassion for yourself and your world are all simply inspiring. Thank you for being and for expressing yourself so beautifully. It's a gift to us all.
What a beautiful comment Dawn. It's especially moving to hear that my "creative responses to challenging circumstance" (though I would never admit to those being conscious choices!) somehow serve as an inspiration/possibility for others going through their own dark night.
A few more chapters to go and then this year-long serialized adventure will be complete! I'm deeply grateful and honored you've been with me for the entire journey. xo
Lovely poetic response
A continuing dance
Although often life is more
like a wrestling match
The way you write about the coming of hope gives me hope for reasons I can't hear explain but some day will be able to do so, I hope (to be redundant), dear virtual friend.
I think hope always lives a bit in that ephemeral, gaussian place. Unexplainable but sometimes more solid than the ground underneath us. x
Intuitive. For me, the number one defining , often overlooked qualification of the right physician.
Intuitive. Take in the word and allow it to define insight , an awareness of feelings, knowing .The distant shore you’ve been reaching for. A mirror of words past and present.
I like seeing them together.
“…while a room the size of sky holds friendship experiences virginity”
🕊️
“…while an exhale the size of infinity holds hibernal emptiness silence surrender”
“… and delivers grace onto both”
Beautiful, Kimberly.
Oh my... yes Lor. Without giving it much analysis, this journey of building a bridge between a father's past and my present has been a very intuitive process. Felt often more necessary, urgent, muddied and riddled with angst but perhaps that's often the rich, layered soil from which intuition arises.
P.S. I love that every time I see your name, reflect on your words, I conjure a sweet Labrador tongue in my mind's eye. Forever you will be associated with this. ;)
Well then , you may as well be introduced; meet Ranger, our Golden Retriever. I love this picture. I tell friends that Ranger is the only one that laughs at my husband’s jokes. Truth be told, this is his very first ride in a vehicle to his new home.
He’s about to get car sick….
Hope I didn’t ruin it for you.
Now you’ll laugh when you see his photo, and that’s not a bad thing.
I love that insight, Kim - all the little yeses really do add up, in the most unexpected ways sometimes...
This chapter felt like there was some light at the end of the tunnel, or maybe it’s better to say (as I heard it once) — that this chapter seemed to convey that your eyes are adjusting to the dark. :)
Oh! I've never heard that expression, except in the obvious context. :) I must use that now!
Yes, when I first heard it I was quite impressed by it as well :)
This chapter felt like an exhale, full of fat tears and heart pangs. You can feel your courage in every line. The courage to accept this new way of life, doing it with so much love and grace for yourself and for others. It is a bumpy wild ride to acceptance. I'm so proud of you, Kimberly.
Those father-daughter poems get me every time! As always, I. thank you for the good cry.
Sigh. Your replies are always such a warm embrace Jenovia. Wherever there might be drought, I'm sending you and your beautiful well of tears to heal the earth. You heal me simply through your deep empathy and understanding.
“The exhale replies
for the lifetimes of resistance
and delivers grace unto both”
Those last three lines written in reply to Charlie’s own beauties…. Sighing deeply here…
Grace has always been a word I cling to, a word I hold in reverence, to me the importance of grace is almost that of staying healthy, perhaps even part of it… more people should pay attention to grace! Perhaps I am out of date, not up with the general feeling of times and change but I see we are not resistant in these modern times, we fold, we complain, we give in to the slightest difficulties and yet, you remained graceful throughout two such painfully worrying years… it is not clear to me how - perhaps you had huge faith, latent deep inside that refused to allow doubt a stronghold, I don’t know but you did!
And all the while you created family, you held together your own…
I hope your hope and faith are contagious!
I am beginning the exhale…. With love dear Kimberly xx
Awww, dear Susie. I feel so seen by you. What a gift of a lifetime to discover a treasured human halfway across the globe who, through a simple but oh-so-intentional exchange of words, pierces into the heart of my expression. I didn't have any words to share during those two years and even more to follow, feeling more like a quiet seed planted, waiting, feeling the pressure of earth atop my existence. But just like the hopeful coding inside any seed, I think you're right, something in me (un)knew that spring would come... eventually. So much love for you Susie!
Right back to you Kimberly… wrapped in heavenly blossom! 🌸🍃x
The resolution of tension, as your poetic reply to Charlie beautifully expresses, IS “grace”. Where mind and heart finally relax their battle, into a long awaited “acceptance”. A welcome exhale…and a new direction. 💕
My friend Susie (above) also clings to the word "grace." Such an intangible but lasting, fortifying word...x
Very good.
Haha! I sweet Ranger! And now I’m remembering you mentioned this before! My bio dad’s dog was also Ranger.
Pleased to meet you dear golden one! Keep on laughing that gorgeous snout of yours.