Thursday January 28 – “Yes, that was me you saw shaking with bravery . . . “ pg. 11
This has been a busy week: back-to-back board meetings — Denver, Santa Clara and Detroit, followed by a conference in Washington. After that my life looks to be easing into a more graceful rhythm. In the midst of all the hustling, Joy Harjo sent me her new book of poems: Conflict Resolution for Holy Beings, (New York: W H Norton, 2015). In the airplane last night I began reading from page 1.
No Wednesday or Friday posts this week, and probably none next Monday. So, I decided to introduce three pieces from Conflict Resolution. Taut, clean words that opened my soul last night while flying north toward Seattle to catch the Detroit red eye.
Joy, thank you.
Try reading each out loud, with some slow breathing in between.
Back Wednesday; have a blest weekend.
Humans were created by mistake. Someone laughed
and we came crawling out. That was the beginning
of the story; we were hooked then. What a wild
dilemma, how to make it to the stars, on a highway
slick with fear —
Listened to an alto sax player jamming on the street.
He played a few jazz standards, mostly popular tunes
the people would know who changed buses there. Nice
tone. I walked from the hotel into the dusk of the city to
listen closer, to speak with him. l We shared names, gear
info, and other stories of the saxophone road. He told
me, “I’m making a living out of small hopes . . . “ There’s
someting about a lone horn player blowing ballads at
the corners of our lives.”