Tag Archives: God

doors / poem 47

“I’m tired of opening that door for you . . . for nothing!” I muttered to the cat. Medusa sometimes acts as if she’d like to go into the basement but usually declines once I open that door for her (you know how haughty queen cats can get). Then I paused, reflecting on what I’d just heard myself say. I imagined God/dess saying the same thing.

Understand – I don’t usually walk around wondering what God/dess would say (WWGS). Although I am deeply spiritual, I don’t belong to any particular church, temple, or synagogue. I practiced Zen meditation for years and they are notorious for the “don’t know” mind and koans. For several years now I have been enthralled with Siddha Yoga. This practice comes from the Hindu tradition. And although I made a pilgrimage to Varanasi, India, holy town of Shiva, one can’t ‘convert’ to Hinduism. I can, however, appreciate and adopt many of its traditions. I believe we ourselves are divine but often forget it. So much for talking to Myself!

So back to this concept of doors. I have been fascinated with doors since the 70s when I read the book and saw the movie Steppenwolf by Herman Hesse. I’ve even had dreams about doors. There is, of course, that old saying “When one door closes another one opens” which I’ve quoted to myself when times got rough. But this assertion I proclaimed to the cat queen was different. I imagined God/dess shaking Her head, muttering something like “How many signs do I have to give the girl before she gets it?!” The Higher Power might even complain “Do I have to drop a key in your blessed lap?!”

Such is the context for tonight’s poem:

if You give me a sign
I might remember
that I’m truly divine

Goodbye, Julie

This one’s not about yoga. Unless it’s the yoga of dying, passing on, leaving this physical world. For Julie Hafer, a woman in my writing class, has died. Suddenly, on Sunday. She was 47 years old, witty, a good writer, funny, and loved by the class. I didn’t know her well but I liked what I knew. Julie, it doesn’t seem fair! You were giving most of your time toward taking care of your elderly parents. You didn’t get to live a full life of your own, it seemed. I am shocked, numbed, and angry at the Universe for taking you away so soon.

And who am I, after all? I am sure I am looking in a mirror. I have always felt I was in a race with Time. How much time do I have left? Will I get everything accomplished in this lifetime? I even had a vision one day, walking into the front door from my car, that some other-worldly creature would be sitting on my couch. I’d look at him knowingly and say, “It’s time, isn’t it.” My time is up. Nada. Over. That’s it.

So I take it personally that someone younger than I is gone. How did she spend her last day? What caused her death, anyway? Does it really matter? She’s gone and that’s a fact. I didn’t get to vote on it. I am not God even though I may be divine. I have to get over it. I have my own life to live and Julie’s leaving is a stark reminder that we must live in the present moment–just as Eckhart Tolle says, just as I always knew but don’t always follow. God, now you got my attention!

Time to meditate.