Rest & Be Held

It's rainy in Portland again, and a bit cold. Sometimes I feel quite tired. Do you?

Isn't this the time when things are mostly done that will get done and we are meant

to take stock of what we have and slow way down

so it will last?

I should count you, your health and warmth, as my bounty. You should count me.

We should take turns walking out

in the wet, green world - then come back, nest down, eat cabbage, rest

against each other.

Isn't that right?

I know we have bananas now and heated cars but - I'd still like to. Shall we?

I'm not an expert and I am

out of practice but I have a few ideas for how we might begin to try:

1. Rest, Part by Part

We could choose one spot on our bodies we can rest right now. Maybe your lips, maybe you can lift your right foot off the floor and let it dangle from your ankle for a moment. I can rest one arm - one finger. Is your knee at rest? My knees are resting. Let whatever needs to work and try continue working but notice this small resting part. You could think, and I will think: my hands are resting - this one part of me for this one moment is at rest.

2. Rest For One Breath

We could decide that we will set down every job and worry for one single breath. Choose which breath. Let go of every thought - breathe in, breathe out. We did it.

3. Relax Our Heads

We could relax our heads. Start with the top of your head and let go. Relax the muscles of your temples, relax your forehead. Relax the back of your head, the base of your ears. I will imagine, for a moment, that I am relaxing my actual brain. You could try too.

4. Share Songs

I'll toss in these love songs. Let's pretend we've written them for ourselves. I'll pretend I am singing them to me and you pretend you're singing them to you. Then we'll sing them to each other.

Just The Way You Are - Billy Joel

As - Stevie Wonder

Lovely Day - Bill Withers

True Colors - Cyndi Lauper

You could toss more songs in HERE.

5. Share Poems

Here's the one I'll offer. It's from Tina Tau's perfect heart and mind and new book, Something Too Big To See.

I Thank The Earth For Thinking Me Up

What about that dream,

years ago, of being something like a star,

a fiery being, out among

shining giants, in fields of light?

Or that dream when I was a fir tree,

drinking what I needed from the sky

and ground?

Those ventures

want to be told.

Our daily language

craves to be burned

until poems gleam like coins

in the warm ash.

Earth labored

a long long time

to bring into being

the zebra,

the night-blooming cereus,

and also us: our nimble hands and fluid film of words.

We don't take this seriously enough.

Let me live as if it were my work

to thank the Earth

for calling me forth. Didn't

she dream of being known

through these halting poems?

Didn't she fashion me

of leaves and mud so I could

stand on grass and see?

Let me live in a rage of gratitude.

a sheet of vision

that falls over and over into fir tree and star.

Let me tear myself

into rags of praise.

You rest against me, I'll rest against you, we'll both rest against Tina and she against us,

then maybe all of us

against the whole, big mystery.

It's a good idea, isn't it?

What could be better on a rainy night?