Saturday, March 12, 2011


I was in yoga class at 8:39 a.m. the morning when the waves that destroyed Northern Japan hit the Southern California coast. I love yoga class, and it was a particularly good one today. I would rather have had my ankles in the water, but the beaches were closed.

I would have plunged, planetary power pulling past in pools. I would be Force, growing miles high and striding backwards through time and over distance.

I would have struck the blow.

Not for the paparazzi to say "she's big in Japan, biggest thing to hit since Godzilla". Not to stomp on anyone's sand castles - a detached trickster itching for mayhem, smiling as I yank the tablecloth of the earth's crust. No.

To find integration in initiation of the vibration of creation of mountains. A rolling reshuffle of the surface to reveal unseen strata underneath. I want to crack the earth and set the ocean in motion. For what happens without and within. To remind Us that the great and deep solidity beneath and above is naught but masquerading


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