The Unclad Soul

I will not be another flower, picked for my beauty and left to die. I will be wild, difficult to find, and impossible to forget. ~ Erin Van Vuren Poet/Author The Netflix series, “Gypsy,” which debuted in June of this year stars Naomi Watts as Jean Holloway, a middle-aged Manhattan psychotherapist whose life is slowly unraveling. She is married to her successful attorney husband, Michael (Billy Crudup), and she has her own flourishing therapy practice with established patients. Jean and Michael have a young daughter, Dolly, who is starting to show signs of sexual identity issues. She likes to dress like a boy and is thrilled when her mother cuts off her beautiful blonde hair in order to play Peter Pan in the school play. Outwardly all seems placidly fine with this little family, though some of Jean’s friends are critical of Dolly’s burgeoning identity choices, and, are clearly insensitive and catty about it. Jean struggles to fit into the crowd of country cl...

There are secrets that are frozen In the deepest places of our soul. They cannot be unearthed, Yet they cannot be unknown. We have dreams that are lost In the recesses of our sleep. We have longings too deep to reach Across anxieties we cannot breach. There are spaces for love We hold for future opportunities. They are kept in the privacy Of our simple soulful duties. We have a heavy broken burden That we carry through the years. It’s a wistful painful memory Of our losses soaked in tears. There are questions we still can’t answer, Things we wearily want to know. But life is not an easy equation One can quickly solve and own. There are journeys alone to take And experiences with others to share. There are changes we have to make And realities we have to bear. And finally accept the mystery of things We cannot ever know. And find the hard fought truce within That if we honor lets us grow. © 2017 Timothy Moody

I Want a Cottage by the Ocean I love the city with its array of delights, its offerings of culture, its libraries and theaters, its parks and plazas, its lights and music But I am weary of the city, with its loud presence and its oppressive anonymity, its   hemmed in freeways and the misery of endless construction I want a cottage by the ocean, where the air is clean, where seagulls fly and the aura is gentle; where the sun rises and sets on a clear horizon— a misty shimmering line   low   in the sky that invites dreams, and prompts secrets, and asks me to wonder I want distance from the acrimony in our cities, from the rage and the fury in traffic, from the numbing of noise and nonsense I want to feel things, kisses and love and the holding of hands, long embraces and deep conversations— the joy of connection I want to be close to the earth, to the forces of life; I want to hear the songs o...

Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. In Jesus’ day mourning was serious business. People suffering loss or some inner wound would go out into the streets and tear at their clothing. They would scream and weep in agony. They would gather a handful of dirt and pour it over their heads and let it mingle in their tears. It was a sign of their connection with their mortality, their belonging to the earth where sorrow breeds. They would wrap themselves in the arms of others. They didn’t lose themselves in mindless work or distract themselves in foolish activity. Grieving hurt. Mourning meant something. And I think what Jesus is saying here is: be open to the wounds of the world and to your own. Mourn the hurting of people and when you yourself hurt. Weep over the suffering of humanity and your suffering, too. Don’t hide from it. Don’t attempt to chase it away with meaningless clichés or empty escapes. Feel it and be moved. We are to mourn the deaths of those we l...

“You are that which you are seeking.”  – St. Francis of Assisi, Catholic Mystic

"There is a loveliness to life that does not fade. Even in the terrors of the night, there is a tendency toward grace that does not fail." ~ Robert Goolrick, Novelist

“Happiness, satisfaction, fulfillment, joy, love... All these things work the same way. The more you search for them, the less likely you are to find them.” ~ Patrick Rhone, “Keeping It Straight”

But often, in the world’s most crowded streets, But often, in the din of strife, There rises an unspeakable desire After the knowledge of our buried life: A thirst to spend our fire and restless force In tracking out our true, original course; A longing to inquire Into the mystery of this heart which beats So wild, so deep in us—to know Whence our lives come and where they go. ~ Matthew Arnold I have always loved this section of Arnold's long, old poem. The phrase, “There rises an unspeakable desire / after the knowledge of our buried life” resonates so deeply in me. There are times I want to uncover the buried life of my boyhood when I dreamed of baseball and girls and someday hitting a home run with both; the buried life of the years with my grandparents who were ballasts that kept my young ballooning life from flying away into nothingness or into destruction; the buried life of my struggling search for God, to go beyond the burdensome rules of the church that wer...