today I learned how my spiritual teacher Michael Stone died.
I drank coffee from a cup that is not mine.
I asked two sister-friends to give me an undercut
and they did it
while their babies and husbands sat in other rooms,
I felt the skin on the back of my neck
covered in tiny little buzzed hairs
that stand up when I feel afraid
I felt afraid and excited.
life is all of the things.
the part of ourselves which longs to find some fantasy place where our friends and teachers are never afraid or confused is a part we must take a compassionate interest in.
this world has no utopia.
none, none, not one.
loving ourselves can mean slicing through our efforts to find
or stake claim to any comfortable territory.
we do this swiftly, mercifully, tenderly, repeatedly
like cutting off hair it took years to grow.
it usually grows back.
we do this
by giving ourselves
to our desires
we can ever
permanently fulfill them.
is a daily practice,