eastbaypoetics.com

this morning (noon, rather) the first thought that came to me as i opened my eyes was, benazir. she’s still dead. it’s only been a day since it hit me. the familiar grief like the morning after my mother died.

 it’s only been a day.

 i took care to wear red today. to celebrate benazir’s life. her successes. her effectiveness. her motherhood. her living martyrdom. i wore hot pink for benazir’s love, her impossible passion. yellow hat & citrine stones for creativity.

i decided to take a partial vow of silence to contemplate the everyday violence around me. saying only the words that are most necessary. i’m going to spend new year’s day doing a silent retreat at amma’s ashram in san ramon. sitting, writing, &  not speaking for almost a whole day. a quietude i need to start the new sun cycle.

leftovers from dinner in the fridge: curried eggplants in tomato sauce, red quinoa stewed in mushrooms curried with lamb. i had company. a break from the solitude delivered by this chilled winter. it felt good to cook for someone, to feed my west indian friend from scratch with the foods our mothers ate. the spices they called home. we called our ancestors with cinnamon sticks & crushed garlic, bay leaf & skinned ginger. i’ve been seeking comfort these past two days. protection from fear & hopelessness. deciding to accept death as part of life & trusting the universe unconditionally.

when life is taken, life is given. i want to believe. i think. i believe.