Women in India © Jayni Bloch 2013
It was the women in the streets of India that touched me most.
Was it the depth of patience, devotion and contemplation in their eyes,
which appeared from behind the colorful drapery of their flowing garments?
Or, was it their vulnerable frames
hidden behind the gay parade of glittering materials,
like veils draped around secrets,
holding their mission form being exposed?
And yet …it is their eyes
that speak so loudly of the darkness and pain….
our world’s loss of ‘mother’
Neglected, rejected, raped and shamed
they hold the flames of hope
as they float like angels through the corridors of time,
anticipating….
expecting our heart’s to open
doors to Loving Mother
the feminine that holds creative potential
producing life, grace and union
Video - Women-In-India © photos in this video by Jayni Bloch
Light
Light is not outside
Light is inside
what is there, is right here
whatever I need is already near
Listen, See, Open
All is Clear
Jayni Bloch © 15 September 2006
a new path I did not see before unfolded
while listening for directions
new possibilities beyond the noise of habit
opened steps towards an inner call
practicing clarity of mind, body and soul
modestly and hopefully
creative change unfolded
confidently
purposely
gracefully
Jayni Bloch © 14 October 2005
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Life
At first I thought the world was there for me-
then I thought that I had to be there for the world-
I followed the face of the sun with a deep longing for courage, connection, inspiration...
Where will I find what it takes to give to the world what it is asks
an 'eye' opens
a flow begins
I feel the light within, not of my own doing
a light bigger than me shining
reconnecting me with all
I cannot give you what you want
but if you want what I give
we both are rich
Be with me in anticipation of accepting what is given
notice the treasures that comes when we are together
engaged in conversation
sharing pure life energy
Jayni Bloch © 20 September 2006
“ARE You OK?” & The Woman with a Box
It was just after the last presentation of the day at the conference. I left the meeting hall to phone my family. I was closing my cell phone and looked down to put it back in my purse while I walked down a ramp that lead away from the couch I sat on while talking. The next thing I knew, I sat flat on the floor with a burning pain on my forehead. It was amazing how my brain tried to comprehend this crisis of disorientation. It was as if in the fastest way I could ever imagine I recalled moment-to-moment fragments of behavior retracing my steps to locate the reason for my sitting on the floor with an acing head. I realized almost instantly what happened after remembering in reverse order the blackness then the echo of a loud thump, the low wall-beam running across the ramp with a warning sign that I did not consciously see.
People in the vicinity heard the loud thump when my head hit the wall and came running towards me. As if in a surreal world, I heard the words: “Are you OK?”, as if it came from a far distance.
I did not understand or know how to answer that question. My stunned brain was no longer logical or capable of functioning rationally. I stared back blankly or maybe I did answer automatically in socially appropriate conditioned ways.
One woman put ice in the centre of a crumpled cotton napkin, stuffed it in my hand and instructed me to hold it to my forehead. I obeyed zombie-like, not able to think for myself, which hardly ever happens to me. I found myself confused and disoriented, embarrassed about the attention I drew.
I had to meet up with my friends so we could go together to a cheese and wine that night. When they heard about the accident, they talked to me, checked my responses and stayed to observe me. They discussed it amongst themselves deciding not to take chances about the extent of the shock and the potential seriousness of the concussion. They took me to the hospital. The stayed with me until my husband and son arrived to take care of me.
Their own schedules and plans were on hold until I was in caring hands.
On the way to the hospital, I wondered why I had to experience this knock on the head. What is the meaning of this experience?
While waiting for the doctor my mind traveled back through the day. Then I remembered.
On my way to the conference that morning, the traffic came to a complete standstill on the highway. At first, I thought this was just the usual result of dense traffic and I made myself comfortable behind the driver’s seat. I opened the sky roof, cranked up the music and sang along with the familiar nostalgic tunes.
Then I saw it. About 2 cars ahead of me a mother goose with a string of chicks waddling behind her crossed in front of the stationary row of revving engines which was ready to proceed their impatient journey towards who knows what urgent destination.
My immediate reaction was, as I believe everyone else’s: “Aahhhhh, how endearing!”
By now, tears were flowing with compassion realizing how, despite their urgent journeys, many regarded the lives of this mother and chicks more than their haste. This can only happen in Canada, I thought! Where in the world do you see a busy highway come to a complete standstill for a crossing mother goose and her babies! My warmed and touched heart suddenly jumped. It occurred to me that the danger was still real for them.
What seems to them like reaching safety is the side of the fast lane of the highway, next to the concrete barricade that separates the fast lanes of the two directional flows of vehicles! There was no-ware to go. This mother goose was in a scary unknown place, lost, not knowing the extent of danger she and her babies were in.
With the goose and her chicks out of the way, the traffic started to flow again. As my own vehicle started to accelerate, I looked back in the rear mirror to catch a last glimpse. A small car turned onto the shoulder off the fast lane where the birds were. A woman got out with a box and I knew that the little creatures would be safe from their traitorous position. How brave and timely the action of one person who had foresight and equipped with a box! Did she know she was going to be needed that morning? I think she just did what she knew was to be done and knew she had to do it in that moment, as she was willing to respond to the need. She went out on a limb.
The reflection on this memory happened in a split-second in the waiting room. I realized that when on the floor after the knockout bump, the concerned questions “Are you OK?” was just like all of us stopping our vehicles for the confused geese walking across to the centre of the busy highway. I thought of the compassion that stopped the traffic. I realized that concern and compassion was not enough. It took someone who was willing to act on that feeling of compassion to get out of her car with a box, pick them up and take them out of their precarious and dangerous situation.
I thought of how many times I asked others if they were OK, and then proceeded with my busy life, from my position in the ‘fast lane’ of life, without checking ‘deeper’ to see if they may need more than my concern. I realize now there is more to caring and compassion than checking. I realize from being at the receiving end of shock and confusion that it is not a logical state. Someone in shock and confusion or an emotional crisis needs to be stayed with and taken care of practically and patiently. Therapy needs to be deeper than empathy or logic.
I feel deep gratitude and love because of the deep care I received from my friends Donna, Pam and Carolyn, the day I needed them. I hope that I will recognize when I am called on to be the one to do the practical loving and caring. I hope that I will be ‘equipped’ and timely to be ‘the woman with the compassion and the box’ when you need to be taken out of a precarious situation. I hope I can be a friend like you.
Thank you!
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Burning Ice
© 1998- Jayni Bloch
an unknown experience
shocks my senses
contrasting pain and promise
juxtaposing heat and cold
my new world
covered by thick layers of crystal-white snow-dust
dazzling its blinding brightness
in a naked burning truth
clutching my soul with sharp icy fingers
heavily loaded change
painfully hang over my path
with cold gloom
the sky swells
holding its blue breath
as my mind
an ice-forest
reflects despair
rigid coral fingers point at many chaotic paths
freezing all movement
but
I keep on walking
the rhythmic grunt of my steps
echoes the ache of isolation
of search
of hope
inner fears and soul-wounds open
as my footprints exposes rotten leaves under the snow
lucid truth
is a chilling silence
that ablaze in warm promise
waiting to burn and die all inner ghosts
transform past
allowing angels to fertilize the next season
promising growth
The Stone-keeper
© 1999-Jayni Bloch
She heard the echo of a taping noise through the forest. It penetrated to the center where the animals lay asleep. A metallic sounding zing followed every tap. Louder and louder it got as she moved closer to it, disturbed by the piercing sound of metal..
Then she saw two boys chipping at a huge rock at the entrance of the woods. Their chisels flashed and threw flickers of reflecting sunlight as they chopped away.
"What are you doing?" Her inquisitive voice was soft and caring.
Her unexpected interference with their efforts showed in their surprised glances. They hesitated then answered that they were trying to chop out the shiny piece of the big rock.
"Why?"
"Our teacher wants us to find interesting rocks to bring to school"
The interrupted chiseling made the birds chirp again.
Then the boys continued their mission. Immediately the sound of metal connecting rock stopped all other sounds.
"I wonder how this mother-rock feels about you trying to take a piece of her?" the woman said softly.
The boys stopped abruptly and looked at her with big eyes. She got their attention now.
" It looks like it's her heart that you want to take?"
Their eyes blinked with recognition, but they did not say a word.
"Did you ask the mother-rock if she would let you take a piece of her?"
Silence.
"Maybe she doesn't want you to take that part of her....maybe there is another part of her that lies somewhere around here that she wouldn't mind you to have. Maybe the piece she's willing to give is not so difficult to get?"
Again there was a moment of silence while the brothers contemplated the strange woman's words. Is she cruel or what? Where did she came from anyway? She spoke as if she knew the rock?
"Shall we go and see if there are lose stones that are shiny that you can use for your project? Here are some!"
Wide eyed, the boys looked at the stones on the ground as if they saw them for the first time. They glanced back at the big rock at the entrance of the woods and glanced at the makings they made to remove the shiny part of it. They looked at the stones on the ground again and picked some up to investigated them closely.
"This one is nice" one of the boys said.
"I'll use this one" the other shouted.
Singing birds sounded closer again now that the chiseling has stopped. The boys ran home giggling, each holding a stone to show the next day at school.
At the entrance of the forest the woman smiled and touched the big rock lovingly, allowing her hand to hold the shiny core for a moment as if she wanted to wipe out the chisel marks.
A soft breeze rustled the leaves in the trees as the boys looked back to wave at the woman, but she was gone. Not many see the shiny glowing heart of the rock at the entrance of the forest. Not many know of the woman in the forest that watches over the stones.
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Talking Frog
© Jayni Bloch 1999
The pond was dirty. Green slimy stuff floated on the surface. Like vomit, I thought. I glanced over the slimy bubbling algae that covered the stagnant surface.
The trees around the pond were changing color. Fall is in the air. The sun, still hot, steamed silently and clung like sweaty thoughts on the edge of my awareness. "Please God give me a gap, I need some kind of miracle. Let me out of this trap; this boring repetitive human existence, filled with pain and conflict."
The rock I sat on was hard, but I enjoyed being outside. I noticed a fat frog with big bulgy eyes, supported by the thick algae-carpet, basking passively in the now cooling sun. I wondered how it could keep so breathlessly still for so long....maybe in anticipation like me, 'of what?', I wondered.
The stillness is suddenly startled by the jump-swim vigorous motion of another frog closing in. The short bursts of activity were followed by silent moments of expectation as if he was waiting for my reaction. This frog was different. His golden eyes glowed with intensity, watching me with a fixed stare on his algae-marked face. I stared back. This frog communicated, talked with his eyes and wasn't asleep like the others.
It stared then jumped and moved and stared again. This went on for some time as I watched the frog trying to get some reaction from me. What was it trying to tell me?
Another frog joined, swimming from the bottom of the pond to the surface. It stopped mid stroke, went absolutely still for a moment and dived back into the deep to hide under the rocks again.
Most frogs behave like frogs. But some frogs don't.
"You are different". I said to him and thought I saw a wink.
I talked again and it started to jump, desperately trying to get itself up the rocks to get closer to me.
“You want me to take you out of there, don't you? You want to get away from this pond. You feel trapped in this stinking world of yours. You don't feel a sense of belonging, do you? You see far with those golden eyes....”
“I realize as I am talking to you, that God is probably looking at me right now, like I am looking at you saying: ‘I can't take you out of your pond. You belong there with the other frogs. Where will you go? You are a frog, golden eyes and all. You are part of a bigger plan that you shouldn’t disrupt now’”
The frog became frantic. It jumped around at the edge of the rock trying to jump out of the water, its golden eyes desperate.
Tears of compassion dropped like blow-kisses on the frog.
The rocks were too high for it to jump out and it disappeared between the cracks, exhausted in its attempts to escape.
I looked down to see where it was. The frog with golden eyes disappeared and only lazy frogs lied passively contented on the green, slime-filled pond.
Did the time-gate close for a miracle to happen......? Or is the miracle that life can be meaningful life in a slime-filled pond?
© Jayni Bloch 1999
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Learning
© Jayni Bloch June 2000
what i teach
is what i had to learn
and is still learning
my medicine
comes from the deep sources of my wounds
wisdom
grows in the compost of ignorance….
i move slowly
with you
in cyclical pulsating rhythms
towards god
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Simplicity
© Jayni Bloch Aug 2000
Simple cool, clear, clean water…
transparent, deep and wide is Georgian Bay
uncomplicated,
peaceful,
simple
like truth.
I dive in and swim …
the depth hold me safe..
no fear,
no gain,
simple pleasure…
acceptance.
I see clearly
to the bottom
where the stones lie
white,
clear,
true
simply there…
I look at you...
me
transparent…
white shimmer of cool,
clear,
clean,
simple truth.
Elaborate attempts to paint surfaces
to hide
to cover up
are words,
accomplishments,
decorations.
I like simple
elegance,
essence,
truth
like
Georgian Bay.
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