Zen Writing Retreat - Day 1

I left my homework to the last minute (morning of the retreat, of course) and found it made no real difference (naturally) - the curse of procrastination is success in spite of it. We are twelve women, two instructors and Susie the yoga queen - wounds to bind, clarity to seek, yoga to practice. We inhabit a house at Benet Pines. As the afternoon light weakens, we seek comfort in afghans and tepid tea. We write, under duress, our assignments; we see who we are. I neglect to mention my blog.

We Welcome the New Year
The silent dawn of New Year's Day blankets Chataqua Mountain, as the
cold blue moon slips into Limbaugh Canyon.
Resolute in her departure,
She takes with her, her shadow - last night's Dark
Companion.
We are left, then, in a bare newness,
A soulful tabla rosa, stark
And bright in its promise
and in its unknown terrors. jeb


"Through the bee, we come to eat flowers, to eat light, and by those intricate sugars we ourselves ignite." - Jane Hirschfield, "Making Soul"

"Language-making isn't incidental or ornamental to human consciousness; it is its center, its essence." - Norman Fishcer, Zen Priest, "Why I Have to Write"