Plan K

God often works through Plan B
and even more often works through plan K

© Meisaan Chan

Posted in addiction, anxiety, Food addiction, Haiku/haiku-esque poetry, PTSD, Rumi-esque, Scripture riff, Spiritual poetry, Spiritual search, writing | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

When the door will open

To knock on the door
first requires dying to your no and turning into my yes
and as my yes begets my yes
the door will open

© Meisaan Chan

Posted in addiction, anxiety, Food addiction, God speaks poetry, Haiku/haiku-esque poetry, PTSD, Rumi-esque, Scripture riff, Spiritual poetry, Spiritual search, writing | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

The authority

So much of the burden
lies in which voice to listen to

© Meisaan Chan

Posted in addiction, anxiety, contemplation, Food addiction, Haiku/haiku-esque poetry, meditation, PTSD, Rumi-esque, Scripture riff, Spiritual poetry, writing | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Suitcases

Put down your longings, says the Lord
unpack them, let me see them all
for they must first be loved

© Meisaan Chan

Posted in addiction, anxiety, contemplation, Food addiction, God speaks poetry, Haiku/haiku-esque poetry, PTSD, Rumi-esque, Scripture riff, Spiritual search | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

A song lifts within me

A song lifts within me
a stirring of greenness budding
pushing, then unfolding,
lifting to the light:
A song lifts within me

© Meisaan Chan


Posted in addiction, anxiety, Earth poetry, Food addiction, Haiku/haiku-esque poetry, PTSD, Recovery and healing, Scripture riff, Spiritual poetry, Spiritual search, writing | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

The prayer of thwarted desires

Interrupted monastery night:
First, teens on street wake me up three times
but worse, my bed,
poor and neglected – good for monks but not for funky backs
I move to couch, not great but better, at least so I could complete the night.
Ah, when a retreat gives way to the world!
When tightly controlled environments’ limits are passed
and the world, messy and imperfect, comes tumbling in
reminding me that imperfection is everywhere,
messiness not to be feared but accepted like a time-worn aunt at the door
that imperfections – and more, my thwarted desires –
have their place in both my life of flesh and life of spirit
so much that my aching back, too, becomes a prayer,
my laggard, tired body, too, becomes a prayer –
a prayer of greater worth than mechanical utterings
or celestial serenities, folded hands: Instead,
my body becomes a prayer of earthiness, for I see what I want be taken from me
or simply not granted at all; I, staring at my still-empty hands
whisper a prayer that I struggle to pray and which becomes a
wizened elder teaching me, the novice on retreat:
It doesn’t matter if I get what I want, but if your will is done in me –
somewhere, on some hidden level
the soul becomes more whole
as the student accepts the lesson
as the retreat continues on

© Meisaan Chan

Posted in addiction, anxiety, contemplation, Food addiction, meditation, Poetry, PTSD, Scripture riff, Spiritual poetry, Spiritual search, writing | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

I can take your seething rage

I can take your seething rage, says the Lord,
it will not hurt me;
and when you’re empty, in its place
I will begin to heal

© Meisaan Chan

Posted in addiction, anxiety, contemplation, Food addiction, God speaks poetry, Haiku/haiku-esque poetry, PTSD, Scripture riff, Spiritual poetry, Spiritual search, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment