Writing Meaning into Being: Lighting the Fuse.

Via Edie Lazenby
on Feb 18, 2013
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Photo credit:  Photo Dictionary
Photo credit: Photo Dictionary

“Just remember…people are like sticks of dynamite; the power’s on the inside, but nothing happens until the fuse gets lit.” ~ Mac Anderson

When I Remember to Remember.

Sometimes I feel weak, like now. My head feels tight. I think I need to eat. I am tired. I have no fuse.

Before I taught yoga, I shed a few tears.

Yet here I am, at my keyboard, trying to frame now into a blog that deepens understanding, which in turn, gives you a mirror to look at or shy away from; or maybe it’s more like a window, showing you that blade of grass finding the power to grow into sunlight even though its surrounded by concrete, so you can experience desire reach toward the light.

I am taking flint and looking for a spark, so the eyes can see the reflection even in the darkness, or find the view of life struggling for light even at night.

My body quivers. 

Today I feel as though my heart has been cast in concrete. I look for goodness with each breath.

The keys on my computer are like subtle jack hammers, making cracks, helping the seed that gives me life find its beat, root deeper into the earth so it has more power to reach.

I decided, again, to not complain about what life has handed me. I decided, again, to focus on the blessings and fertilize this seed with gratitude and goodness.

I keep thinking life cannot get worse. I keep thinking circumstances will get better. I stand in my shadows to build the light.

Yet circumstances are what they are.

So I gather feelings into words because in words I build a fire, uncover truths that mirror goodness.

I want to hear meaning vibrate as if it were a tuning fork to my inner most thoughts.

I want to play a song to makes butterflies dance. I want to give hope the face of a child making a wish, blowing out birthday candles.

I want to give you a plate of chocolate covered strawberries. I want you to find your flint in your heart as I keep forgetting to remember and remembering to forget.

Some say yoga, the inner work of yoga, is remembering: remembering we are all aspects of the Divine, remembering goodness can be found in every breath, remembering love can inform every thought and act, if we remember.

I told a friend yesterday that she is kind, and that can be everything.

The Dali Lama has named kindness as his religion. What greater practice, to be kind in every detail? Power rests on the mantle of the gentle and promises sunlight.

That seed that started in concrete is beginning to grow. Light comes from you, the reader I may never meet, the fellow writer who shares my dreams, a friend or student who takes the time to read what I say.

All I know incubates this moment.

Does your heart ache as well?

Maybe your life is full of blessings…and for that I am happy. Maybe your life, like mine, keeps challenging you to find the light in the shadows, to uncover your goodness. Maybe you write, or do yoga, or go for long walks or spend every spare  minute with your children…maybe you are on an edge that will take you to the next threshold.

All I know is the key to calm is here. Words are my medium, yoga is my staff, time, my window…

Faith is my earth, which sometimes is covered in concrete—but there’s always that one blade of grass that pushes through, no matter what I forget or when I remember.


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Ed: Kate Bartolotta


About Edie Lazenby

Edith Lazenby's first love is poetry. Her second is yoga. Life unrolls in ways she could have never have imagined. She loves to love and live life daringly. Leap and the net will appear is how the saying goes but they don't tell you what to do after it disappears. Edith lives in Baltimore with her cat, Cucumber. She works all the time, it seems, these days. Life is good. Blessings are many.


11 Responses to “Writing Meaning into Being: Lighting the Fuse.”

  1. Carolyn Riker says:

    Welcomed words with meaning and encouragement. Thank you!

  2. edie says:

    Ah you are so welcome!!!

  3. karlsaliter says:

    Good morning, Edie!

    You posting this was a gift, I love the keys as little jackhammers. That really flies.

    "The keys on my computer are like subtle jack hammers, making cracks, helping the seed that gives me life find its beat, root deeper into the earth so it has more power to reach."

    I'm amused by the hammering creating this beat, helping that seed find it's own. You created a fantastic image in that.

    I write.
    It's a long walk in the woods that often finds me stumbling. Sometimes I'm inadvertently inside a hollow tree, wondering how the fuck I got here. And often, it takes a little spark to get me moving. In some direction. Anywhere.

    And I need to move. Some mornings finding myself in that hollow tree would be a blessing, because I'm not even brave enough to go to the woods.

    The journey from my facebook newsfeed to the blank paper canvas is infinite, some mornings. Walking it can take hours. Your piece provided a bright blue polka-dotted helicopter. Thank you.

  4. edie says:

    Oh thanks so much for your kind reply. So glad what I wrote helped…I obviously love to write….its my passion. Coming from you this means a lot. Thanks Karl.

  5. Amy says:

    Yummy! Your essays are even better than a plate of chocolate covered strawberries. xo

  6. Edie says:

    Thank u!!!

  7. Anne says:

    It's like you called me up and spoke to me on the phone with this one.

  8. NIchole says:

    Beautiful writing. I hope that, in time and as my knowledge and life experience grow, I will write as eloquently as you. Thank you for sharing.

  9. […] I’ve experienced, time and time and time again, the awesome power of release and an actual sensation of lightness, of energy shifting, of a weight literally lifting from my body, during some of my more intimate writing sessions. […]

  10. Faizan says:

    I really liked your words. Almost magical.. 🙂

  11. Roberta says:

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