Seen. Known. Enough.

Pressed within the predawn shadows and morning light of the Sangre de Cristo mountains in Sante Fe, New Mexico, I was given a poem. The 7000 foot altitude of the high desert made it difficult to sleep, so I arose early and sat crossed legged (still in my pajamas) on the cool, concrete path awaiting dawn. The previous day I participated in a meditation prior to our film screening while attending the Glen Workshop Film Seminar. Our instructors reminded us that in the very act of breathing, we breathe the name of God – YAHWEH. The outward breath – the YAH, and the inward breath – the WEH. We sat in silence, inhaling and exhaling the YAH and the WEH in the darkness. In the quiet speaking of God’s name through the act of simply breathing I felt my soul shift. Something released in that moment of time that spoke to my base fears – the fear that somehow I was not important enough, not intelligent enough, not “something” enough. Here is the poem I was given the following morning while sitting on that sidewalk watching the deep dark begin to glow with dawn. The last three words of this poem are the inspiration for this blog. Enjoy.

Liquid Seed

In between the YAH – breathe out

And the WEH – breathe in

A tiny fissure

split sideways

A fragile seed

long ago forgotten

almost having given up hope

unfurled in a single tear

A shimmering piece of soul birthed into light.

Followed by another.

A sighing release of the unnameable holding in.

Too tight.

Too long.

A split second awareness

of being

Seen.

Known.

Enough.