Chapters (103)
- Cover
- Title
- Dedication
- Upon Seeking Tu Fu as a Guide
- To My Reader
- Enduring Suffering
- God, Self, and Medicine
- Willfulness
- In Voices Half as Loud
- Tu Fu’s Reappearance
- Without Notice
- The Waiting Room
- Endgame
- Questions to Walk With
- A Terrible Knowledge
- October Storm
- Post-Op
- Setting Fires in the Rain
- The Decision for Therapy
- Questions to Walk With
- Ocean of Sky
- For My Brother
- Covenant with Time
- As Rachel Wakes
- Dance of the Seed
- A Sacred Meditation
- Questions to Walk With
- Messenger Signs
- Where We Are Strong
- As If to Say
- Finding a Way Out
- Questions to Walk With
- Approaching Wholeness
- Troubled Waters
- Knowing God
- The Garage
- Living with the Wound
- Questions to Walk With
- Mind Sweats
- First Treatment
- Cradlesong
- Lifesong with Two Trumpets
- Letter Home
- Who Will Live Your Life?
- Questions to Walk With
- Midway in Our Journey
- Magnificence
- Another Chance
- Nesting
- I Have Not Forgotten
- On My Way
- Questions to Walk With
- Facing the River
- Being Human
- As Moonlight
- In the Back of the Eye
- In the Sea of Others
- Moonglow
- Chores
- Questions to Walk With
- Still Here, Still Wondering
- Unraveling the Self
- Cracked or Healing
- For Nur
- Love-Sufferings
- Soft as Satisfaction
- Letting Go
- Inside the Miracle
- Questions to Walk With
- Sifting Truth
- Susan Means Lily
- Sitting Near a Smoke Bush
- Sniffing For You
- Forged
- It
- Surviving Has Made Me Crazy
- For That
- Questions to Walk With
- Flint Work
- Entering Our Tenth Year
- Coming of Age
- After Mira
- Still
- What Can I Do?
- Love Your Window
- Hourglass
- Questions to Walk With
- The Bridge of Well-Being
- Adrift
- The Beauty of Less
- Between the Wall and the Flame
- Eventually
- Thrown Back
- The Slow Arm of All That Matters
- The Thin Magic
- In the Sky of Heart
- The Sway of It All
- Gratitudes
- Notes
- Permissions
- About the Author
- Also by the Author
- About Sounds True
The pieces in this section are personal accounts of my admission of frailty, my instruction from the great teacher that is limitation, and my vow to eat from the marrow of every moment without crisis or pain pushing me to remember I’m alive. The pieces in this section are testaments to wonder and the work that releases it. Most of these pieces were written in my fifties and early sixties. In “Unraveling the Self,” I affirm how the path opened by expression leads us into meaning. In “Sifting Truth,” I struggle to understand the tension between knowing our truth and enduring rejection, disapproval, and misunderstanding. In “Flint Work,” I explore the constant need to remove the cataracts of mind that cover the pain and wonder of being alive. And in “The Bridge of Well-Being,” I honor the inevitable call to be a bridge for each other, so we can endure what we suffer and inhabit the gifts we were born with, until we can enter the days that remain with awe and wonder.
The poems in this section have the perspective of having climbed to the rim of a canyon in whose river I almost drowned. Sitting on the edge, looking back into the dangerous, life-giving river while taking in the stars, there is only amazement at being here at all and admiration for how suffering cracks us open, just in time to make us tender and ready to receive.
Whatever path you’re given, there is a bridge of well-being between us all that only the courage birthed by love can make visible. It is that bridge, always a step away, that leads us inside the miracle, which is everywhere.
Unraveling the Self
UNRAVELING THE SELF
I would not be here, if not for a miracle, if not for a series of miracles. Every day when I wake, both death and life perch over my shoulders, and I get out of bed, simply glad to be here.
In needing to survive, I’ve been forced to pare my life down to what is essential, and in doing that, I’ve been transformed, and along the way, my sense of writing and living has transformed as well. It is about these transformations that I want to speak.