America's Broken Heart

Love makes room. When tested, love reveals true character.

My love affair with America is complicated and rewarding. It lives deep within me, the visceral fiery part where fist and buck and growl live. It lives on my bosom, where it is soft and warm and dizzy.  It sits in my hands that work and hold and move.

Because a big enough part of America feels heart-broken these days, the heart of America is breaking. Because so many of us love America, we all feel this heartbreak in varying ways. And because this is OUR beloved America, we must make room. We must calm the buck and relax the fist. We must reach out and open up. 

We love America, and as America's heart is breaking the only way forward is for us to make room for different views so we can let America do what it has always done. America makes room.

America loves us, so she makes room for all of us.

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Poem 8/30: Your Are Not Five or Fifteen

To be a dog, or a grown up. Or to be

a penguin. Aiden, who is now five,

has this power. To dive in to 

an imagining so real, he becomes

the thing. He is angry at his mother

when he is forced to wear underpants.

Penguins don't wear underpants, Mama.

I told you, I am a penguin today.

He is your nephew, your heart, your moon.

And you are not five or fifteen. You are

not even twenty five, not by miles.

Now, you must dive in. 

To be forty one.

To be a woman, brown woman in

this land uncertain about its new skin.

Brown woman in this world 

the old man is unprepared to see.

What is the power that you hold 

in this new brown world?

Is it your sex? Is it your skin?  

Imagine a Sunday at its best. All

sunshine and blossoms. Imagine

all voices raised, all sights on high. 

Now imagine the pulsing. Your heart. 

Your heart.

April 6 Poem: How Things Work (6/30)

My father liked to point out

the mechanics of things.

On planes, we would always sit 

near the wings so we could watch

as the pilot maneuvered the

flaps, opening wide to create 

resistance the shutting them tight

for a smooth glide. In airports as

planes landed, we looked out

for the landing gear - those wheels

the pilot released just as the plane 

touched down.  When I was 

learning how to drive, he showed

me the car engine, made me see

how it moved as he hit the gas or 

shifted gears. He  made me 

change a tire, taught

me how to check the oil. 

The heart is an engine and a man is 

an engine and a father is an 

engine. My father showed me 

the mechanics of love. Most nights

till I was twelve, he would tuck

me and my sister in bed,

brush our hair out of our eyes,

kiss us on our foreheads.

I learned what tenderness 

looked like on the face of man

when my father kissed me

goodnight. And later, much 

later, my father taught me

forgiveness. When I broke his

heart, with my angst and my 

words. When he broke my

heart with his struggles

and failings. The heart,

the eyes, the tender eyes,

the forehead kisses. My father

taught me the mechanics of

love. He took me under the hood

so I would know. So I could see.

You're the One that I Want in 2012!

On the precipice of a new year, we are most likely going through the list of things we are hoping for. The things we desire. The things we want.

When we strip away the judgement, when we embrace our true nature we find at the core of desire is a softness that is as delicious as it is infuriating. The things we desire propel us, inspire us, enrage us to move, to live, to be. I want you to want things. I want you to listen to that desirous humming in your breath. I want you. 

Red is The Color of My Love

If you've visited here before this will be no secret to you, but if this is your first time then it's important that you know: I am a brand geek and an ad geek.
I believe in the power of brands, I believe in the power of communication. At our best, we can shape positive behaviors and offer up a world of choices and better options. In our most shining moments, we harness these powers in ways that leave the world better. Or at least try to. I have written a few times about how I continue to fall in love with the (RED) campaign. I love its big ambitions and love the progress it continues to facilitate.

As we gear up for the holidays and wage into the most generous time of the year for most it's important to remember that true gifts cannot be bought in department stores or through consumables. The gifts that matter most set the course for a virtuous cycle and hit the biggest problems that plague us. It is one of those simple, profound ways we can help.

If we truly believe we are in this together, here's an inspiring way to do our share. Click here to create your own panel in the iconic quilt, make a pledge then harness your social networks to inspire people to do their share. What greater gift than to give future generations a world where they are free to love, free of AIDS.

The Heart's Desire

I used to say I was a reformed Catholic.
Really, I did.
As I think of it I realize there is something dishonest about that.

The more honest statement is this: the values I learned from the way the Catholic faith was taught to me are the very fuel that keep me going, that keep me true. If I am truly honest, the values of love, compassion, fidelity, child-like-faith, the unflinching pursuit of deep understanding and a genuine sense of wonder - these mark my character and strength. I learned them all through the way my heart and mind were reared. Some of this happened in "school" and a lot of this happened through the people life continues to shower me with, through the school of life.

In a country where poverty sits side by side with opulence, a heart can only make sense of things through faith and understanding. In a family where night time rituals include bedtime prayers, the soul learns to search every day. And in a home where love indeed conquers all disagreements, misunderstanding and heartbreak one inevitably learns how to make room, to forgive, to accept. And ultimately, this is what all lessons about the life of Christ taught me - a compassionate heart makes room.

And isn't this ultimately the heart's true desire and destiny? To love wholly, without condition. To accept people for who they are, be a mirror that reflects back their best light? The moon is full tonight, and so is my heart. If you hear some raucous howling, join in. Heed your heart and sing the happy howls so full and well-loved.

Love, Sex and The Spaces in Between

Yes, they're real and yes, they're mine.

"Are you polyamorous?" asked the beautiful black woman in braids at the after party in SoHo. Long thoughtful pause. "I guess I can't be, since I'm not sure I know what the word means."

This was my first Sex and the City-esque experience as a New York resident. The simple exchange is layered with commentary about me and especially about America. Where I am from, there isn't a lot of sex talking. This is not to be mistaken for a lack of sex, indeed people enjoy healthy sex lives. It's just not something most people casually, openly discuss. We're more a doing kind of culture than talk-about-doing. More feeling and vibing, our communication is often more about what isn't said, the meaning between the words, the subtleties of timbre and lilt, of eyebrow raise and lip purse.

America is different. In America, there is a rational and almost blunt word for most everything because it is a culture that processes with head more than with heart. This makes the language of American seduction as simple as it is complicated. In its directness, it can sometimes feel blunt and rather un-sexy.  Consider the action word - the Americans say pick up and the British use the word pull.  One pursues and the other invites pursuit. You see, when it comes to sex and seduction, I come from the philosophy of the pull, clearly I am sexing and seducing in the wrong language!

Years after that first conversation with Tara I don't think I'm any better at speaking America's seduction but I understand it better. I appreciate how they make room for different lifestyles and ways. I like that their language fuels tolerance by creating words that potentially lead to acceptance which eventually brings about understanding. I also know now more than ever the importance and yes, the sexiness of the things we can never pin down to a single word.

So here's the thing, me and my tribe are making America sexier. We come with our sensuality and our brand of loving to challenge the American pick up and luxuriate it with a double shot of the pull. We color the way America loves with alba, amor, cariño, alab, init and so much more. You will love us, we will seduce you,  you won't have to narrow it all down into a single word and yes, it will be sexy. It already is.