Doorways Traveler
Doorways Traveler


because there is no map for this. for kindness and compassion and shared sadness and fury.

because hope stands beside surrender. love stands beside letting go.

and so we sat today. the 20th anniversary of our wedding.

because for us, the legal and the logistics were not enough.

we needed to remember the twenty year olds in a jeep. the fumbling and the finding and the motorcycle and the long hair. the silly notes we left on each other’s bicycles  and the births of our babies. the years upon years upon years of shared story.

we didn’t have to say it all. we just remembered. and cried.

we talked about sorry and struggle and how hard it is to quit the habit of being with one another. how it might always be instinct to grab the other’s hand. and how maybe that is ok.

we wrote new vows. to honor the memories. to love. to protect. to respect and to care. to always be family.

and then we burned what was. southeast. fire and air.

we walked to the shore, unsteady, each holding the other’s ring. making it all up as we went along,

much like a marriage.

and we couldn’t decide who should count to three. i think he did in the end. maybe it was me.

and where else to go afterward, drained with emotion and aimless and untethered, but for a burrito at Freebird’s, in the college town where we first met. probably the first meal we ever shared more than 25 years ago, before we could even order a beer.

the metaphor lost on us then.

because there is no map for this. for doing it together with kindness and compassion and shared sadness and fury.

because we had a good run. because it evolves but it does not end. because we loved well and we did our best. because we learned a hell of a lot. because we made two extraordinary human beings and they show us every day what we are made of.

because all is now forgiven.

and because love wins. no matter what. even when it has to change.

Without warning
as a whirlwind
swoops on an oak
Love shakes my heart

Categories: other

Doorways Traveler

go deep with me.

go deep with me.

i drown in shallow waters.

the spliced and perfunctory, the stripped
and staccato

leave me wanting.

deeper and deeper still. show me
the way.

hold me, push me, obliterate me
in the name of ecstasy. the divine.
anything and

i don’t care what who why when
so long as the now forever start stop prolong being
my heart
so long as it
matters imprints awakens
softens allows trusts
fuels and ignites

there is longing, and then there is

And did you get what
you wanted from this life, even so?
I did.
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved, to feel myself
beloved on this earth.
~Raymond Carver

Categories: other

Doorways Traveler


the two are so close. not finite, not separate. but close.

destruction and creation. death and birth. ending and beginning.

ablation works by scarring or destroying tissue in your heart

that triggers an abnormal heart rhythm.

i imagine a sickle

tearing through vessels and forcing

new pathways

bloody intent

arterial resurrection

these are the things i will think of today:

liberation. truth. love.

primordial vernix

white robes, wild horses

and an open field

doorways have become too confined.

welcome to the final chapter.

But it is in the consciousness of life which becomes the breath of life and gives life to a body. The breath of life is the consciousness of life, and the consciousness of life is the breath of life.

~from the Kaushitaki Upanishad, The Upanishads

Categories: other

Doorways Traveler


oh how we split, splinter, fracture and fall. how we divide to conquer.

the dual, the contrasting, the one but not the other.

dark and light, in and out. majority rule.

i suppose we must separate sometimes, to survive. to explain and convince and love without hating. to hold without releasing.

or how would we possibly make sense of the confusion between us?

we have had to break ourselves in half because if we didn’t, how could the desire and the anger,

how could the fear and the trust,

reside in the same body?

and so we sleep and breathe and live our lives with the split down the middle,

we become fragments and shards,

until ultimately,

the edges are just so sharp

and we are wading through a minefield

of pieces.

some people
when they hear
your story.
upon hearing
your story.
this is how

~Nayyirah Waheed, from Salt

Categories: other

Doorways Traveler
Doorways Traveler