It’s Time

It’s time.

Time to pause.
To stop.
To breathe.

Time to look inside,
wide-eyed, listen to
where the soul abides.

Yes!  It’s time.

We are in this together.
No one spared.
Not the gray haired,
the visually impaired,
the ones who care,
nor the well-prepared.

No border recognized
despite those who agonize
criticize, demonize,
or over-analyze. 

We are all at risk,
players in the same game
trying to reframe,
let’s stop placing blame
or trying to induce shame.

Yes, it’s time.

To pause.
To be.
Do less.
Breathe more.
Soak in the sweet silence of snow,
help someone on skid row,
work on a new tableau.

It’s time!

To offer what you can.
Lend a helping hand.
Nothing grand.
A kind word, a note in the mail,
kiss your dog, watch him wag his tail.
Dance with your friends,
make soup, say grace,
thank God for this amazing place.

It’s time.

Take stock.
Consider who you came to be
and set your spirit free.

By Diane Sherman, 2021

What If?

Art by Diane Sherman

What if we felt in our bones and blood that each of us is a part of the very same fabric?
What if we believed that each thread was as important as the next, exactly as it is?
What if we knew in our hearts that whatever anyone else is doing, we are also doing?

That life is a reflection of the Divine and that we are looking out through those eyes?

What if we could celebrate the successes of other people with so much joy? 
Without getting tangled in envy or jealousy?

What if we knew that whatever our present moment experience is, it is teaching us something?
Even though we may not be able to know what that is.
Yet.

What if we opened our hearts even more, to other people, as they are?
Not how we want them to be. 
Not how they’re “supposed to be,” (according to us).
Just as they are.
Now. 
Right now. 
Loving them!

What if we could see that we are Donald Trump?
We are that racist, misogynist in power.
What if we could see that we are the migrant farmer from Mexico picking melons?
We are the immigrant worker struggling to make a living.

Dig inside. 
Try it on.

What if we loved every inch of who we are, from the broken bits that we want to sweep under the carpet, to the dazzling, blinding light of our own magnificence?

What if we found a way to love ourselves so fully, we loved everyone with an open heart – the thief, the murderer, the racist, the philanderer, the whore, the junkie, the needy child, the arrogant asshole, the grieving mother, the saint, the philanthropist, the artist, the dancer, the teachers, the leaders?

What if?

What if we just start with ourselves.
Loving who we are, as we are. 
Now.
Today.

No matter what our yesterdays looked like.
No matter where we’ve been or what we’ve done.

What if?

And from that place, offer it out to the others.
As they are.
Right now.