BEING

by Aviva Rabinovici © 2010

 

 

Inside my mind

The voices in my head speak so assured,

Sometimes in whispers, sometimes loud as shouts

With smirks that hint I cannot cast them out

Insistent as the caw and screech of birds

That roost in window panes, sowing absurd

And often vicious episodes of doubt.

Ignoring them would never make them stop,

So I chose to talk back to them instead

And asked what they were doing in my head,

And if for just one moment they might drop

The constant drone and drama that they brought

To make room for some silence 'midst the dread.

 

I cannot claim the effort as complete.

Still, every day I try to find a pause

From countless lists, to dos, and all the claws

Of duty, that so constantly compete

For my attention-listening for the beat

Of my heart; breathing deep to find the awe.

And sometimes, like a break within the clouds,

The silence reigns supreme, and I can hear

The causes of my hope and rage and fear

That echo through the spaces I've allowed

To grow within my mind; like restless crowds

Distracted by a promise growing near.

The vigilance this brings makes me aware

Of more than quietude.

 

The truth, in fact,

Is that my mind is much more than the act

Of thinking.

Of more than quietude.

The truth, in fact, Is that my mind is much more than the act

Of thinking.

When its nature is laid bare,

Its wisdom and intelligence and flair

Can manifest-while calmness stays intact.

My limbs take flight

When nonce the voices stop their petty call

The music of the world can fill the void,

And suddenly, the things that once annoyed-

The passing cars, the rain, my sweat-they all

Become my practice ground.

 

And I stand tall

And search for the sensations I avoid:

The neck twinge, and the subtle sort of pain

That runs from my right hip and towards my knee.

Sensations that I often choose to flee,

And body images that I disdain:

My sagging boobs and belly, and the bane

Of my existence-wrinkles-all plague me.

Attention focused on my deficits

Prevents me from embracing the delight

Of how it feels when all my limbs take flight,

Of finally finding a strong hand that fits

So snuggly within mine.

 

When all the bits

Are disconnected, nothing can feel right.

The trick, then, is to let the judgment fade

And feel instead my heart beat, and the flow

Of blood, the muscles in my legs, the toe

Of my left foot, my stomach, and the jade

Green colour of my eyes-the things

God made-

And let the love arise, and let it show.

Our bodies are all vehicles of life.

 

So dance, and run, and get between the sheets.

Trail fingers through the grass.

And feel the heat

Of passion take you over.

Hug your wife,

And husband, and your children.

Give up strife.

Stand by the shore as water licks your feet.

 

My heart unfurls

And when at last I actually can feel

The intake of each breath, drawn through the lungs,

The chest expands, and songs once left unsung

Erupt and leave me empty as I kneel

Before the alter of the heart, head hung

And eyes closed, searching for the words that heal.

But words won't serve me now; not in this place

Where silence speaks with utmost eloquence

And prayers unformed leave messy fingerprints

Along the walls and floors.

 

Now I must face

The ice of rage, the grimace of disgrace,

The locked doors of my heart's magnificence.

Warring emotions battle to take hold

And oft, I must admit, to hold them back,

I keep myself apart while they attack,

Pretending to be confident and bold.

But as I age, the attitude gets old

And I'd prefer to see defenses crack.

 

Defenseless, yes.

That will now be my shield,

An endless stretch of vulnerability.

My heart unfurls and suddenly I see

The danger of the twin-edged sword I wield.

I rush headlong, I stumble, and I yield-

Embracing joy and pain and loss and glee.

 

The full range of emotions now burst forth-

Pandora's box was nothing next to this!

Yet, hidden 'neath the terror, I sense bliss.

New heights of self-acceptance and self-worth

Hold me aloft.

 

A magical rebirth

That calls compassion up from the abyss.

My soul alight

For ultimately, is this not the goal?

To unpack the emotions, one by one,

And stack them up beneath the setting sun

To gauge the shadows cast upon the soul?

The interplay of light and dark, the hole

That judgment made before its work was done?

 

Resisting the temptation to repair.

That would imply that things need to be fixed.

Yet spite and venom heedlessly are mixed

With those emotions we consider fair:

Undying love and gratitude and care.

Our only role is to look on, transfixed.

One minute to the next my thoughts arise

And cascade through my body like a shot.

My only job: to notice that they're not

A permanent condition.

 

That's the prize

Of noticing each swallow, blink of eyes,

The flitting, flighty feelings I once fought.

It sounds so simple, written down so stark.

Just pay attention.

Don't let your mind stray.

But all these shiny things-they have a way

Of grabbing hold and trying to leave a mark

On the blank page inside, 'til I embark

Down tangled paths that steal focus away.

 

Be patient then.

Keep drawing back your mind

To every passing moment.

Use your hand

To cup each precious second.

Understand

That nothing lasts forever, and you'll find

Expanses of great freedom intertwined

With fascination for each grain of sand.

 

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

As the founder of AR Communications Inc. (a B2B copywriting company), a working mom, and a long-time yoga practitioner, Aviva understands a thing or two about balance. Her lifelong quests including finding inner peace, inspiring others, and making the perfect cup of coffee. Check out her website at www.ar-com.com or contact her at aviva@ar-com.com