Tag Archives: poetry

Introducing Guest Blogger- Jim Trainer

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Introducing Jim Trainer. Jim will be a guest here soon, posting words from his arsenal of life. Jim is a friend of my entire family, an old roommate, a comrade, a brother, a piece of my heart. We met in West Philly, after a summer of punched walls and 22oz Heinekens with my actual brother, he crafting words and music and moments, my brother perfecting recipes with black beans and relationships with Aquarians, and me learning love in bartending, and poetry, and frayed men.

When Jim told me he was studying to be a yoga teacher, I was at first surprised. But it makes perfect sense to me. Jim brings the heartbeat of being alive to every art he explores. His music and writing struggle with the ways we move in the world, in heartbreak and loss, and in ecstatic bliss and joy. Yoga centers, it grounds itself in breath and pose, while at the same time, allowing yourself to let go of your past selves in body and mind. It brings full awareness to your personal history because each pose tells you where your strength and weakness is. Jim writes his personal history of strength and weakness into everything he does. Yoga is made for our expanding minds. We never have to be perfect, and it is continually a process. Thank you Jim Trainer, for being part of my process, and for taking us all on the journey with you.

At My Bedside

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After organizing and cleaning, I now have a small bedside nook again, complete with a cute little basket with what I am currently reading. That includes the two latest issues of Poets and Writers, A Year With Hafiz (translated by Daniel Ladinsky), The Island Beneath the Sea by Isabel Allende ,and The Gangster We Are All Looking For by le thi diem thuy.

Here’s todays’ Hafiz gem:

Coax Your Mind

Who can look each day at a beautiful landscape

in the distance and not at some point want to

explore it?

Who can look out at the ocean every morning

and never venture beyond your common horizon

when a boat I am offering to you, and even willing

to do most of the paddling?

It is good if something gnaws at your innards

until you come to real terms with your potential.

God, like a flea, may bite somewhere to get

your focus to shift.

The Holy, like a good poem, may enter you and coax your mind… to wade out to more

interesting internal space.

———–

What’s at your bedside?