Living Large

Reem's Creek, NCMy son is excellent at clarifying the history and interlocking power of the structures now dying in such paroxysms of violent grasping. We need people who can do this data clarification, because for many it sounds a shocking wake-up call. For others such data is an unsurprising confirmation. The question for all of us during this Great Turning is how to live. What is, at this cusp of time into which we have chosen to be born, right action?

At a lecture on Tower Time by Byron Ballard, a woman in the audience asked for suggestions on how to act, how to counter the terrible things happening in the world. Byron’s counsel to the woman bears repeating. Since violence in the service of life would be a contradiction in terms, instead of reacting to aggression with more of the same, Byron urged us to respond by creating interlocking circles of community to take care of our needs and by “living a big life!”

The same day as the lecture, I saw the history/drama film Pride, and was deeply moved by the cooperation that was forged between striking Welsh miners and a London-based group of lesbian and gay activists. The two groups built community totally outside of preconceptions and outside of systems.Their united strength emerged from each individual stretching outside their comfort zones to live a bigger life.

It’s time for those of us alive at this cusp on the planet to stop playing small, to begin opening to the greater flow. What might I offer of myself that I have never shown the world before? What might you offer? Let’s contribute our individual gifts to the hive mind. It’s time to  live large.


Dashboard Guidance



On the Road with my Holies



Feathers on my dashboard

keep me light, float me free.

Fabric art from my friend,

hanging from the rear view mirror,

companions me.

Psychedelic Guadalupe

spins my thinking higher.


My holies buoy me along.

On the travels of everyday life

they aim my heart, direct my path.

On road trips they remind me

to notice synchronicity.

I am protected!

My view is widened!


I travel through collecting relics

and handing them back to the wind.

What I display today

will later be lost, or given.

My ritual of life requires

found art

to point the way.




©Susa Silvermarie 2014

Dance of World Healing

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Temple Music from Tibet

at the Lake Eden Arts Festival 2014

The melded voices of the monks

plumb the very ocean.

Sacred Dance of World Healing,

they name their prayer.

The forces of goodness

float on their notes

calling deepest creatures forth,

calling my own depths.

They pray for our planet this way;

this way, dancing.


While auspicious incense

is fanned to ten directions

by golden-robes slowly dancing,

one monk holds a dagger,

his right hand purifying.

His left displays,

with black cloth of woman,

mortality, invoking peace,

invoking harmony,

calling out the invitation

for creative living.


This is when my sweetheart

whispers in my ear what she has learned:

Boku Haram

is giving up the abducted girls,

the Lost Girls of Nigeria.

I groan relief. Great Mother!

You hear these voices lift to you,

care for you, cry for you!

You hear these monks

atone for their brothers.

The smiling golden-robes are saving

the men of Boku Haram.

©Susa Silvermarie 2014


What Bone

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Unknown Helper


What bone

has come to my hand

from under autumn leaves in the woods?

What animal’s skull?

A creature of earth whose eyes,

from these sockets watched the world,

through this cavity sniffed the air,

with these teeth chewed its food–

on the Day of the Dead

gifts me its mystery.

I receive the unknown helper,

and bow.

©Susa Silvermarie 2014