Good morning. Thoughts upon waking up to 49 years old, ha.
Stay the Course
Without even realizing it, we recreate our families wherever we go, attracting those who either mirror our families of origin or teach us about the way we were raised...some of us grow further and realize that we are individuals ultimately separate from this past experience and all of a sudden, we evolve and break free, and the patterns around us begin to change, and it is terrifying, beautiful, freeing, and unique, because it's a great leap into the unknown.
All around, the pattern unfolds...some get divorced. Some join a church or a 12-step group. Some enter therapy or reaffirm a partnership. Perhaps health or financial problems roll in. Some run for the mountains or the sea. Others grab on to addictions. Some embrace yoga or acupuncture. Some lose their lives. Some rise up and change the entire course of their existence. Again, we suddenly feel like children and yet, the teachers seem to be missing, and we are shocked and confused; we are forced to look inward.
We have to begin to have faith in what rests inside our experience and hearts. Having this faith in ourselves is not an event; it is a process of uncovering the child inside, and it involves cavernous feelings full of rage, sorrow, laughter, joy, the whole gamut of emotions.
What happens is that we have to dig in deep, embrace the past, release it, and trust that we are becoming the teachers.
And then in turn, there is a greater irony involved. The greatest teachers are always still willing to learn. The greatest teachers are teachable. The greatest teachers know that the power rests inside the notion of humility. The greatest teachers never preach or give strict direction. The greatest teachers live inside this notion: I don't know. The greatest teachers continue to ask questions and live not by command, but by example.
The greatest teachers are students of the unknown, which is untouchable by human hands. The greatest teachers are students of the mystery, that which we call "God," or unconditional love.
Throughout our lives, without even realizing it, we are learning how to receive and give unconditional love.
And maybe, everything I just wrote is wholly true. And maybe, everything I just wrote is absolutely ridiculous. What matters is that each day, I try to best be my authentic self, ask questions, and stay the course (albeit sometimes messy), and if I touch a heart, and if I share my experience with another human being without expectations, and if I add to the greater good, then I have done the universe's greatest work.
Each day, may I strive to be one of the greatest teachers. May I notice the ways that a new, beautiful, surprising form of love is entering my life.
C.A. MacConnell
<3 to you.
8/17/2023
Stay the Course
8/16/2023
Hornet's Nest.
Today was one of those days when I could hear messages loud and clear. :)
C.A. MacConnell
Lions.
Good morning. Photo taken with film. Feeling new after some good rest. Hope you have a fun day, and hope you like the shot!
C.A. MacConnell
8/15/2023
8/13/2023
Just a Note.
I just wrote this on social media, and I liked it, so I decided to post it here...
My life has been surprising lately, both good and bad, and up and down...many extremes, many losses, many gains -- a huge lesson in lack of control and powerlessness. It's been harder than ever and better than ever, and I've been confused and lost a lot, but I've made huge muscles too, and it's all strengthening my faith in the universe as well.
At times, I've felt more vulnerable than ever. At other times, I've felt stronger than ever. I haven't been afraid to laugh or rage or cry, whatever strikes me, day by day.
No holding back.
Looking forward to what rolls in next. Grinning as I write this, because at the moment, I honestly have no idea. Sometimes, it's just good to accept that I don't know, because therein rests peace.
C.A. MacConnell
My life has been surprising lately, both good and bad, and up and down...many extremes, many losses, many gains -- a huge lesson in lack of control and powerlessness. It's been harder than ever and better than ever, and I've been confused and lost a lot, but I've made huge muscles too, and it's all strengthening my faith in the universe as well.
At times, I've felt more vulnerable than ever. At other times, I've felt stronger than ever. I haven't been afraid to laugh or rage or cry, whatever strikes me, day by day.
No holding back.
Looking forward to what rolls in next. Grinning as I write this, because at the moment, I honestly have no idea. Sometimes, it's just good to accept that I don't know, because therein rests peace.
C.A. MacConnell
Simon, Marrero, LA.
Today, the guy bagging my groceries (about 20yrs old) asked what cartoons were around when I was little. I listed off Tom 'n Jerry, Scooby Doo, Dungeons and Dragons, and The Gummy Bears, ha. The D&D one was my fave...it was a short-lived one, but it was rad. He was so excited about that one, and he was googling it when I laughed and said, "Shows that I'm an old woman!" It was a fun encounter. Made me think about how much I loved the Tom 'n Jerry episode when Tom tries to run up a staircase to heaven...that was my favorite. That image is forever etched in my mind.
Here's what I have to say to you today: no matter what you choose to do, way to go. I love you.
C.A. MacConnell
8/12/2023
8/11/2023
The Bird
A poem a day. Another flash poem for you, no edits, on the fly. :) C.A.
The Bird
Solo, I crawl inside
the tree's hollow,
and all is wickedly silent.
Another wrong exit.
Again, I miss the driveway.
On the southern highway,
I lose the houses, falling
into spider webs and cornfields.
Even the golden retriever
and the milk man
spook me. Hard labor
takes its toll.
My clothes are falling
from my frame.
One cheek turns red
and then, the other catches
up. Yes, but the bicep.
Today, I watch a woman
pull over, blocking both lanes,
stopping traffic
in its tracks.
And then, she leaps
from her car, bending
down low, perfectly
reaching for the road,
scooping up an injured redbird,
holding the tiny,
twitching life
in the palm of her hand.
Close, behind her,
I follow to make sure
that she and the bird make it
home.
C.A. MacConnell
The Bird
Solo, I crawl inside
the tree's hollow,
and all is wickedly silent.
Another wrong exit.
Again, I miss the driveway.
On the southern highway,
I lose the houses, falling
into spider webs and cornfields.
Even the golden retriever
and the milk man
spook me. Hard labor
takes its toll.
My clothes are falling
from my frame.
One cheek turns red
and then, the other catches
up. Yes, but the bicep.
Today, I watch a woman
pull over, blocking both lanes,
stopping traffic
in its tracks.
And then, she leaps
from her car, bending
down low, perfectly
reaching for the road,
scooping up an injured redbird,
holding the tiny,
twitching life
in the palm of her hand.
Close, behind her,
I follow to make sure
that she and the bird make it
home.
C.A. MacConnell
The Way
Flash poem for ya. <3 C.A.
The Way
The way you drift.
And when you least expect it,
despite inadequate, human arms,
you will fly.
No cables, no ropes.
And when your tribe
tethers you to a tree,
you will break loose,
and by then, they won't even recognize
your face.
They won't even remember
your name.
And when age settles in,
and your neck and back
crack,
you will feel the release, the new joint,
the repaired space
between the bones.
And when your lift one bare
foot, then the other,
on the hot,
desert ground,
smiling at the pain of it,
you will think about home
and never go
back.
Sky, branches, the healed
cervical disc, the peace between the rays
of sun.
And when you least expect it,
despite inadequate, human radar,
you will land.
The way you drift.
C.A. MacConnell
8/10/2023
The Return
Some flash poetry for you. Just wrote this li'l guy. <3, C.A.
The Return
On moments like this, in any room --
Crowded or empty --
You almost
Wholly appear. Fragments of you
Ferment in the
Flicker of light. Sometimes, your flare lingers
In the air. Sometimes, your sparks
Nearly reach the
Corner
Of my eye.
Bluish,
Whitish,
Yellowish,
Static,
Radiant, a persistent, fire-glow, you
Announce your presence.
And then you burn
Gentle, and you are
Simply
There, a
Fervent, ghostly, transitory, atmospheric
Bruise, one welcome visitor who always
Returns,
An optical migraine of love and all of
Its permanence.
C.A. MacConnell
The Return
On moments like this, in any room --
Crowded or empty --
You almost
Wholly appear. Fragments of you
Ferment in the
Flicker of light. Sometimes, your flare lingers
In the air. Sometimes, your sparks
Nearly reach the
Corner
Of my eye.
Bluish,
Whitish,
Yellowish,
Static,
Radiant, a persistent, fire-glow, you
Announce your presence.
And then you burn
Gentle, and you are
Simply
There, a
Fervent, ghostly, transitory, atmospheric
Bruise, one welcome visitor who always
Returns,
An optical migraine of love and all of
Its permanence.
C.A. MacConnell
8/09/2023
8/07/2023
8/06/2023
8/03/2023
Hollins Porch
I believe these shots were taken at least 20 years apart; these two images show the same porch which is just outside the Hollins University Main Building. The first was taken on film. The second, digital. If you walk through the front doors, just inside, you'll see the Green Drawing Room, where Hollins has hosted many poetry and fiction readings, as well as other gatherings. Numerous famous writers have spoken there, and they continue to roll in every couple of weeks. The room was and is rather regal looking, and it holds an intense, respectful, quiet vibe. At all times, it's almost as if the room is "ready to listen." But afterward, in another building, there were some rather raucous parties, ha.
We also had biweekly student readings, which were just as well attended, and I did both poetry and fiction readings while I was there, which was both fun and engaging. I enjoy public speaking, and I remember one time, I read an extremely spooky story, and I looked up, and many people were engaged, and some looked really scared, ha. Afterward, two of my professors, Richard and Rick, who have both since passed, were cheering me on with wide smiles.
This morning, I thought of these images, because when I was meditating the other day, I saw a clear vision of this porch. I suppose the vision of these rockers always gives me peace, because I often used to sit here, watch everyone walk by on Front Quad, journal, or play guitar. One time, Rick swung by and grabbed my guitar and played a tune too.
I had some awesome teachers.
Good morning. Hope your day is fun and engaging, or whatever you wish it to be. I'm getting injections in my neck, and I'm hoping it will help, we'll see. So, it's rest time for me. Indeed, I doubt I'll follow their instructions; I never do, ha.
Love to you,
C.A. MacConnell
We also had biweekly student readings, which were just as well attended, and I did both poetry and fiction readings while I was there, which was both fun and engaging. I enjoy public speaking, and I remember one time, I read an extremely spooky story, and I looked up, and many people were engaged, and some looked really scared, ha. Afterward, two of my professors, Richard and Rick, who have both since passed, were cheering me on with wide smiles.
This morning, I thought of these images, because when I was meditating the other day, I saw a clear vision of this porch. I suppose the vision of these rockers always gives me peace, because I often used to sit here, watch everyone walk by on Front Quad, journal, or play guitar. One time, Rick swung by and grabbed my guitar and played a tune too.
I had some awesome teachers.
Good morning. Hope your day is fun and engaging, or whatever you wish it to be. I'm getting injections in my neck, and I'm hoping it will help, we'll see. So, it's rest time for me. Indeed, I doubt I'll follow their instructions; I never do, ha.
Love to you,
C.A. MacConnell
