I often say, “I am a woman of many names”. I wrote this poem 13 years ago to tell the story of “becoming Mati”-

Becoming Mati

My father's crumbling hands are holding his face

He’s Kneeling on the dark wood pew

...Hallowed be thy name…

Christian

Holding the generational curse of mental illness

A slow drip of neglect and abuse 

Oozing from his fingers

 I say

...I pray dear lord my soul to keep…

Miles Davis, Matisse, Thelonious Monk, Rothko, De Kooning, Okeefe

Worshiping 

In a cathedral of art.poetry.music

Then-

yes the

Yogaaaaaa

A full body prayer

And Louise Haye telling me

You Can Heal Your Life!

And I say - 

Today is a wonderful day. I choose to make it so

And

I love and approve of myself exactly as I am at this moment, I love and approve of myself as I am exactly at this moment, I love and approve of myself exactly as I am at this moment I love….

Back at the ashram

The Guru betrays

“Bolo Shri Sat Guru”…

Bapuji says

“tears are the highest form of prayer” 

I cry

I cry

I cry

watering the flowers of friendship

crisp road maps in my worn out toyota

Going and going and going

Honoring all directions-

Through many adventurous giggles 

...merry meet and merry part and merry meet again

In the eyes of this one 

I see my child waiting for me

a tree of life 

Calling to me

through the sound of

 “Om”

I hear the wisdom of my ancestors

I feel the hope of my descendants.

I get my ass kicked-

In the tangled mess of motherhood

I am humbled

I lose my father and my marriage on the same auspicious weekend

Beginning on 

Good Friday

Now

My name is Mati

Mother

I am learning to be a loving mother to myself

So I can be a loving mother to my son

“Jai Ma Jai Ma Jai Ma Jai Ma”

on the quest for my true self

I say 

“Neti Neti”

Not this/not that

Not the father

Not the husband

No not even the beloved sun...

I hold my face in my crumbling hands

Breathing in stardust

Forgiveness floating from my fingers

I say 

“So Ham”

I am 

That

I am

that

I am

that

I am

that

I am