The Reminder

The Grizzle Bear had to prove to himself every day that he was Grizzle Bear because he would forget. Even after looking at his paws and snout and ears and teeth in the creek's reflection, the Grizzle Bear doubted himself. He asked Rabbit, "Am I really a Grizzle Bear?"

"Only if you can stand on two legs," said Rabbit.

So the Grizzle Bear lumbered to a tree and begrudgingly pulled his upper body vertical.

"See! You are a Grizzle Bear today."

Grizzle Bear asked Squirrel, "How do I behave as a Grizzle Bear?"

"Roar every day," said Squirrel.

So the Grizzle Bear practiced roaring and he gained confidence.

"See! You are a Grizzle Bear today."

Grizzle Bear asked Owl: "Why am I a Grizzle Bear?"

"Because there is only one Grizzle Bear and that is you," said Owl. "It's your lot to be as Grizzle Bear as you can. Some days you will want to fly like Bird, or swim like Fish, or be small like Fox. But you are Grizzle Bear. Maximize the traits and gifts you have as Grizzle Bear, and look after them well. They are yours to share, not neglect and let atrophy."

Grizzle Bear smiled. He was Grizzle Bear.

Looking Down

Washed out, bleaching light 

Casting shadows, bleeding heat

Cursing points of shade

Cold Blooded Oak

Anaconda roots
Suffocate muddy black earth

Squeezing life from tears 

Movement

Hornets cut through wind

Butterflies bounce between gusts
Jealous leaves beg flight 

575

Tides change, water rises
Clouds form, then sunlight pierces through
New shells? Same shoreline

Adolescent blues
Fleeting hours, off the rails,
Put on a smile

My reflection burns
Imperfection gazing back
Forgiveness frees truth

Bravery and Food Poisoning

My stomach is twisted, rolling like boiling milk, like I’m kangarooing a shot putt in my belly. I burp and lunch simmers from my mouth. I swallow spit and my innards wave like a scared flag in high winds.

Mud Hill

Keep going. The hill was muddy, slippery, and spreading its filth over every inch of my body. How could anyone stay clean centuries ago – going days without baths, body odor running free like a thousand shepardless lambs. I stepped again and the earth breathed in my foot past the ankle. I can feel it, pulling and not letting go. And I still fight it. In my mind, I want to stay clean. I worry about cleaning up later and how to wash my cloak and when I could dry off. Could I let the mud take me over? Could I become a mud man? Could I really change my outlook and shift my mind’s focus? I’m already covered in mud. That’s the first step – realizing I have a problem, or there is a problem. What’s step two? Acceptance? The emotions after a trauma are more complicated than that, so this must be, too. Toiling at climbing this filthy, slick, uncomfortable, disheartening hill, I realize again I’m already on the hill. But can I learn to love the mud? I’m covered in it, but will I embrace the mud, or wash it off during the first shower of the day? I could smear it carefully over every fleck of my skin like in Predator. I could give in to the cool, smooth mud and accept its benefits, like the mud in the Dead Sea, or a spa treatment. Can I learn to love the mud? At this point it feels so unnatural. Indifference, apathy, cynicism and defensive posturing are rooted in my head. Be passionate about everything and then your passions reveal themselves.