Lightly Treading : The Least Likely Elements

( poetry form: pantoum )

skies & snow hills reversal Feb 2016

I will tread this way, the way of offering up what it is that I experience

May or may not be a way that anyone can follow or taste the trace of

Depths of snow remain still in places, whereas bare ground also shows

The dogs and I walk this frozen surface, lithe as cloud jumpers, buoyant

 

May or may not be a way that anyone can follow or taste the trace of

What we share here is both rarefied and basically elemental, in concert

The dogs and I walk this frozen surface, lithe as cloud jumpers, buoyant

Silently scouting the canopied underbrush, then back to traversing clouds

 

What we share here is both rarified and basically elemental, in concert

Listening is simultaneously an act of bravery, risk, and companionship

Silently scouting the canopied underbrush, then back to traversing clouds

The least likely elements are embedded deep within this resiliency song

 

Listening is simultaneously an act of bravery, risk, and companionship

The risk speaks to the radical nature of what can and will be unearthed

The least likely elements are embedded deep within this resiliency song

These rest and wait until the very moment they are needed, called out

 

The risk speaks to the radical nature of what can and will be unearthed

Claims of solitude and measure, easy to walk outside of rather than in

These rest and wait until the very moment they are needed, called out

The very thing seen can be that which unnerves, estranges or restores

 

Claims of solitude and measure, easy to walk outside of rather than in

I take these close to heart, learning their ways and wisdoms, whole

The very thing seen can be that which unnerves, estranges or restores

The ways I measure and keep myself, what telling, what spells are these?

 

I take these close to heart, learning their ways and wisdoms, whole

I will tread this way, the way of offering up what it is that I experience

The ways I measure and keep myself, what telling, what spells are these

Depths of snow remain still in places, whereas bare ground also shows

 

El Salto hills deep winter 2016

photographs : janice sandeen, el salto hills & skies 2016

 

 

That Which Dwells (pantoum)

 

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Leaving it be, letting be what is; here I remain even as I falter

A precious something that dwells within this thinking heart

Across the field and around, the Elk pass by unseen as they do

Their traces left as gifts of recognition, frozen breath, and praise

 

A precious something that dwells within this thinking heart

The threads that tie and connect within this weaving incomparable

Their traces left as gifts of recognition, frozen breath, and praise

I hear the song of the Waters held deep within both cold and time

 

The threads that tie and connect within this weaving incomparable

Flush out the colors from where they reside and wait, wait and reside

I hear the song of the Waters held deep within both cold and time

What is listening, what is singing and how do these footsteps continue on?

 

Flush out the colors from where they reside and wait, wait and reside

Smelling, tasting, seeing, inner eye reflecting, feeling beyond, touching

What is listening, what is singing and how do these footsteps continue on?

Bones and the blood are agents of these: time, tenacity, and temperature

 

Smelling, tasting, seeing, inner eye reflecting, feeling beyond, touching

Leaving it be, letting be what is; here I remain even as I falter

The bones and blood are agents of these: time, tenacity, temperature

Across the field and around, the Elk pass by unseen as they do

 

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poetry form: pantoum
photographs: janice sandeen 2019

 

 

 

Rave New Year 2019 arrived earlier today!

rave new year 2019 by yvonne love

Rave New Year graphic by Yvonne Love ~ many thanks to Yvonne for letting me share your artwork! 

Happy Rave New Year ~ here’s a Human Design & Rave New Year related post :
In the 64 Hexagrams of the I’Ching, the 41st Hexagram is the one initiating codon of all of the 64 codons in the hexagrams. Thus, we began the new cycle, the Rave New Year on January 22nd, 2019 at 08:10:21 UTC (Universal Time) or for those living in the United States, as I do, at 3:10:21 AM EST, 2:10:21 AM CST, 1:10:21 AM MST, 12:10:21 AM PST (and if you are in Hawai’i, it was at 1/21/2019 at 10:10:21 PM!) when the Sun moved into the 41st hexagram or Gate (as we refer to it in Human Design). The bodygraph showing the 41.1 Sun & 31.1 Earth notation (plus the Nodes and the rest of the planets) for this new annual cycle can be seen above in Yvonne’s artful rendition.
My own practice/response around New Year/Rave New Year
I have been making a practice (now for many years) of honoring the Rave New Year as my new annual cycle rather than the Gregorian calendar new year arriving on the 1st of January each year. It’s something I have experimented with, as in using my Inner Authority (I have an Emotional definition, so working with my Solar Plex as inner authority) and I have noticed, even though it often puts me outside of more mainstream celebrations and such, that I breathe more deeply within the body (which the Human Design System is so beautifully attuned to!) in this recognition that the conventional calendar is something I can give or take based on what is energetically most alive for me at that time.
We all enjoy or deal with these “set” holidays and markers in our own ways, but I find for myself since they are quite abstract. I do not always feel to be in natural time with some of the more conventional or mainstream calendar markers. I take things as I go, energetically as a Generator. If my energy responds to something going on or that I’m invited to or somehow perk up around, I listen to each thing through response and then go from there.
Again, wishing you blessings in this new annual cycle, Happy Rave New Year 2019! 
Love, Janice
For more on all things Human Design, including offerings & consulting from me:

Competencies of Belonging

Photo: Janice Sandeen, Late December Hoarfrost & Pueblo Peak, 12/29/2018

Quote: Toko-pa Turner, Belonging: Remembering Ourselves Home, 2017

Competencies of Belonging

“Most of us think of belonging as a mythical place, that if we keep diligently searching for, we might eventually find. But what if belonging isn’t a place at all, but a skill: a set of competencies that we, in modern life, have lost or forgotten? Like the living bridge, these competencies are the ways in which we can coax, weave, and tend to the roots of our separation—and in so doing, restore our membership in belonging. Like any practice worth undertaking, belonging cannot be mastered overnight. Because it is a disappearing art, we might find ourselves going it alone for a while and the temptation to lose hope will be strong. But we must keep a vision of how we want our lives and the world to look, and work towards weaving those first threads together. Even when the garment of belonging seems flimsy and inadequate, we must keep to the task until it substantiates.”

Excerpted from Belonging: Remembering Ourselves Home by Toko-pa Turner

Belonging is a 2017 Nautilus Gold Award winner.

The Green Tumbling Down

To remake oneself while the house
is crumbling all around you,
That is the finest dream there is:
to take to heart all that is true and real
by the measure which no one owns but you.

I had to climb in from the back side door,
someone else’s entrance, to save what I’d lost.
Even then the pieces no longer made sense,
others’ notions of decorum and amorous play
remained and needed casting out, a wild gesture,
which nearly cost my last ration of aliveness.

How can we take someone else’s word? A word is spoken,
a word uttered, is uniquely its own, cannot be held,
cannot be possessed: only given free rein within.
And yet I seemed to have made a house of words,
too often borrowed and put into service unawares;
no wonder this crumbling, going to pieces.

How to build, when instead those former structures
long to crack and spread under their weights,
the weight, the waiting in time? Let them. Let them.

So, I found myself riding the falling staircase
as it clamored to the ground.
I found myself, capacity clear and centered,
like riding a wave and knowing my own,
landing unscathed, vitrified, transformed.

I found myself abiding in a radiance akin to the sun,
a light burgeoning a peace like none of another’s making.
A peace that could only come with the calming
of the many internal storms, a peace harboring itself,
casting its wonder as lines to the shore,
the shores of partiality for this very heart.

This undoing in the making, the making in the undoing,
is rough business and not for the faint of heart.
Although it is sometimes arrived at out of exhaustion,
a half-heartedness from trying to fulfill another’s destiny,
from trying to fulfill a destiny other than one’s own.

Landing, finally, in my own body, my own corporeal soul,
that word that is the concrete refuge, the heartened wood.
I give the green arising of this vitality free rein, free reign.

15 January 2007
Fairfax, California
Janice Sandeen

note: This poem was written some time ago, back in 2007. Partly due to a conversation about experiencing challenges in my life, the time of letting go and dying that autumn is naturally, as well as ALL the feeling that is so incredibly alive and stirred up at these times with everything occurring at this time, I looked for this poem here and realized I had not ever published it on Contemplative Fire. I wrote it years before I ever dreamed of starting a blog to share my poetry. I share it with you today. Deep blessings to you and thank you so much for reading.

Abacus (pantoum)

 

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Quietly apparent all that arises naturally as life

Synchronous arising no before or after only simultaneous

Yet counting on something passing clicking as if on an abacus

I draw out in the sand the footprints I leave behind as I go

 

Synchronous arising no before or after only simultaneous

Each day a counting from birdsong to bloom tender traces each

I draw out in the sand the footprints I leave behind as I go

To be washed clear, here the winds doing this work, a purification

 

Each day a counting from birdsong to bloom tender traces each

Drawing out that which has been dormant in other seasons

To be washed clear, here the winds doing this work, a purification

The counting as a momentary way of relating to the vast timeless

 

Drawing out that which has been dormant in other seasons

Gathering the sum of all the parts of what is a living precipice

The counting as a momentary way of relating to the vast timeless

This precipice, a burgeoning so fierce that it claims within it the calm

 

prompt: pantoum

27-30 April 2018

cc Janice Sandeen

Being Held Under: the dream (pantoum)

Sleep and the torment of undifferentiated events occurring and reoccurring

Crying out to the nursemaid that appears, an invented character –not an ally

Furiously I dig into depths of sediment made (up) of eons before and still to come

Anonymous things cascade as their very formation, epic some, insidious others

Crying out to the nursemaid that appears an invented character, not –an ally

Sure that help must come, as sure as previous layers settled Once Upon a Time

Anonymous, things cascade as their very formation –epic, some insidious, others

Remaining unresolved, thus acting as antigen, both antagonist and protagonist

Sure that help must come, as sure as previous layers once settled upon, a time

Repeating itself once again, yet the faces and objects take on different colors, shapes

Remaining unresolved thus acting as, antigen both antagonist/protagonist

Clambering to the ungraspable source, the surface –life support, of which there is none

Repeating itself once again yet the faces… and objects take on different colors, shapes

What mystery this puzzle that takes itself so resolutely magnificent in its diffuse distillations

Clambering to the ungraspable, source the surface, life support of which there is –none

Better than waking (up) dreaming –only to recognize the once hidden throngs effervesced

 

Thank you to the Richmond (CA) Poet Laureates Daniel Ari, Rob Lipton, and Ciera Jevae-Gordon for the writing prompts this past month during National Poetry Month. 🙂

[This poem is a pantoum, “a Malay repeating form, written in quatrains, in which the second and fourth lines of each stanza become the first and third lines of the next one.” –from p. 195, The Poetry Dictionary by John Drury, ©1995 Story Press; Cincinnati, OH.]