“many years in the making” by Julia leaning

Wednesday April 15, 2020
9:06pm
5 minutes
Becoming Wise
Krista Tippett

It has been many years in the making mix
the wet ingredients folding into the dry
light dusting of risk on every surface
there won’t always be this moment so I
have to be in it for as long as it lasts.
Pretty good plan. You know you can do
anything for 60 seconds. I don’t know
the proof of that but I’d like to think
it was the truth of that and time and I
are riding high on the 60 second climb

When it gets messy it puts ideas into
action someone has to deal with
what will we do about the scissors there
and canister of pens in every room
To clean it would require the decision
to move onto something easier to look
at to stomach to hold space for but
the idea to clean only came from the
mess in the first place and how else
would you notice the clean?

“Safety” by Julia at her dining room table


Saturday, December 19, 2015
11:02pm
5 minutes
from the back of matches

There’s a level of discomfort that follows a perfect moment. It’s perfect until it’s not, fading into something hard to sit in. That second after the joint decision to bask in the glory of said perfect moment is made up of tiny doubts, fears, deep-swimming insecurities-or truths that we usually find more grace to disguise. I think it comes from wanting the next moment to be as good as the one before but it can only be anything close if it were the exact same moment and no two moments can be replicated no matter how badly we want them to be. So I guess it comes down to choices. Going left or right directly after the experience of tiny perfection. Does it live in us as a thing we both just know now, or does it change every moment after it by being so tightly clutched that we start to live in debt of that particular instance? Trying to pay it back forever.
I want to know…

“Just go in the direction where there is no direction” by Julia at her desk


Tuesday May 26, 2015
11:57am
5 minutes
Forbidden Rumi
Tr. By Nevit O. Ergin and Will Johnson


Like the wind, she speaks, she says
Oooh ooh, yes, yes
Calmly without rushing
No goal exists but to breathe in
every single moment
she whispers through my hair
Hums a day song worth remembering
Oooh ooh, yes, yes
And they say go where the wind blows you
And they say if you’re moved travel alongside her
I don’t know where she’s taking me
But I feel cradled in her billowy arms
And I feel welcomed by her carefree smile
Shhh shh, yes, yes
She reminds me to take time
She reminds me to inhale
and stop worrying
and exhale
and stop worrying
Shhh shh, yes, yes
I’m here for you until you get to where you’re going
Don’t run…
Glide
Don’t push…
Float
And the air is changed beneath me
And the air is changed right through me

“A deliciously wicked pleasure.” by Julia on her couch


Tuesday, August 6, 2013
1:02am
5 minutes
ad for The Silent Wife
on the TTC


It’s a rocky road to somewheresville. Don’t know won’t care somewheresville.
It starts with a blurry line and ends with someone without a license free riding on the midnight highway.
With the windows down just a crack; enough to let the demons out. Enough to let the soul creep out and into the sky.
It’s a beautiful and and deliciously wicked pleasure. The path to uncertainty wrapped so tightly in a bow it suffocates. They would let that happen. Because it’s bigger than stopping it.
It’s a rocky road to somewheresville, with a stack of rebellions so high the Empire State Building starts to wince from anxiety. Toppling into the streets, the youth and the present all at once. The search is on for great and grand. The road is a rocky one…