Call and Response

Fivefork Farms in Upton, Massachusetts

I spent a long time looking for the one who knows…
How to heal
How to accept
How to be scared
How to be strong
How to love
How to distance
How to fit in
How to stand out
How to lead
How to follow  
How to rest
How to create
How to say no
How to say yes
How to join
How to leave
How to succeed
How to fail
How to speak up
How to let it go
How to change
How to be

I burned through my oracles. As if wisdom is possessed like knowledge.
As if it’s singular.

Ram Dass: treat everyone you meet like God in drag. 

What if wisdom arises, spontaneous and responsive?
In the pop-up choir leader who encourages confident wrong notes.
In the loud creaks of winter trees pulling inward.
In the novel that feels like a hug.
In Stevie Nicks, nearly 80, singing like it’s still new.
In the man who smiled during a rush at the UPS Store saying, “they’re very good in there.”
In the dahlias that bring me and my daughter to their fields in wonder.
In the quiet comfort of twinkling holiday lights.
In the fellow board member who thanked me for resigning when I needed rest.
In the former politician who coached patience, the time to act will come.
In the yoga teacher who asked, “why wouldn’t you give yourself permission to adjust?”
In the friend, who said of inequality, “whatever happens, my soul is mine and we will be okay.”
In the poem about community, which is one small act of kindness away.
In my husband who says we’re in this together.
In the acupuncturist who sees a bigger force holding us.
In my dog, who doesn’t blame herself for her fear of cars.
In the reassurances I offer my children.
In the yes or no that resides within my own body. 

We’re all just taking turns.