Day 15 in the Woods
I told my close friend
‘the new project is named
93 Days in the Woods.’
She asked “Why 93”?
‘the title will make people
ask that same question’.
Later I thought,
It’s a gimmick title. I don’t want that.
Make it simple, not pre-destined.
That’s how ‘Day # in the Woods’
became the current practice,
one walking day at a time.
I will get out of the car
and walk to the trail head.
is a young one
is an attached one
When Amazonians ran things,
(not the company, the females)
what was the hierarchy back then?
We humans create borders
between them & us
you and me
me & I.
Don’t look at me
if you want a truth,
look behind the mirror.
An other word appreciator
for my words
I love openings
feels like a sensual thing
I just said out loud
in the receptive
Tuning with an other being
human swirling diving
hard and soft
Touching feeling seeing
from your opening
is very easy to do,
when not having
right & wrong
shame & guilt,
an other in
I said ‘Howdy’.
Passing, he said,
“You ever see it so dry before?”.
We stopped and turned.
‘No, but change is the only constant and I love it.’
He looked puzzled,
(was gonna say stunned, but that felt untrue)
turned and walked on.
How would you feel meeting me, a nut in the woods?
You ever pee in the woods and feel happy to share?
I have. Not with people, with earth mother.
I arrived in Washington on the San Francisco tortoise or rabbit,
I forgot which happy bus it was.
With me was the woman I’d met in Perth, Australia, who rejoined me in Bali
and got off in Seattle, new for us both. So long ago. She has moved on.
I have moved on 25 plus years between then and now.
I thumb letters into this digital device and think about us together,
me here now feeling relaxed at ease sitting on a trail bench.
Thank you for gifting me with your loving to help me feel.
This was not going to be about the significant other.
It opened with my first thoughts about leaving Oregon and feeling
the strong mother earth vision of giant trees near tiny houses,
like the giants outside my current Seattle, WA home.
I tend to circumvent before diving in head first. What is your approach
when engaging with an other human? Just wondering.
When I see a door with a stick figure on a stick toilet, I get what’s on the other side
of that door. How do you add ‘Whites Only’ in stick figures, for the illiterate?
Don’t think an impenetrable box
(Stepmom got one for dad, with a rubber seal to keep water out)
or some religious doctrine can keep you separate from life’s source.
We’re here on earth, mind body and spirit, holding the fantasy
of an other place being better than right here, right now.
Life dissolves naturally as the living love.
I love the feeling
of feminine appeal.
It invites and repels
me in yummy ways.