Sunday, April 1, 2018

Push

We all get scared of the dark sometimes. We won’t admit it. We will not be okay with giving in. We will scrunch ourselves into little balls on little beds, and cry for morning to come. We think if we admit defeat that it means we are less than, and you are far better. More than us. Bigger. Faster. Stronger.

We fear that monster under the bed, yet want it to come out and play, fully knowing how beautiful it really is. We tell ourselves that playing is silly and a game of children, as we skip inside our hearts. We secretly wonder how that beauty would feel in our hands and want to ask it to settle into our hearts, but something inside us stops the process. We freeze. We retreat. We push.

We rush into love, yet somehow, kicking and screaming simultaneously, create confusion. We mean to cover each other with the unconditional love of angels, but end up not seeing what is already sitting nearby. Please love me. Go away.

Loving someone hard is like a bee sting. You have no idea when it hits you; are unaware until the pain starts. So intense at first, then lessens as your skin still recalls where it has been. There is always that beet red spot where it began that seems to have permanence, and sometimes has a stinger lodged deep inside.

The stinger is there to remind us to be careful, yet many of us focus too much on that pain or on nothing else, and forget the beauty and importance of the bee. The world could not function without them.

Without this tiny being, nothing could start. They enable a little pinprick process that ends up with the oceans and atmospheres. Just like love grows us inside, the bees pollinate the flowers. They have no idea what they are doing, yet they go on, just as we do. Each and every time, we pick ourselves back up and try again. To love again. Feel again. Trust again. Or at least try.

There are times when we fail. We fail at the thing we want most. We push away what we hold dear to us because we fear the end of it, in turn, causing that end. This circle laughs at us as we hold sway over our emotions that have no mercy, and we let go, no, throw away love being offered because of fear.

That dark is always near. Always present. What we need to understand is that we must step through it in order to come to the light on the other side. The place where we find our courage lies there for there is no need for bravery until it is night.

Friday, January 26, 2018

Still life

Feeling this pinprick
first tugging on my heart
with echoes of sometime else
knowing you
with us as the backdrop
to a life
full like a fruitbowl
plump; color and shade and shadow
playfully lingering, yet solidly there
Sensing a vastness inside
the soul healing; expanding
yearning to find its edges,
and leap.

Wonderment in permanency,
peaking under the bed
making sure the monsters have left.
A battle for big, heaving swords
swung over large, light hearts
that use silence as their weapon.
They wait.


Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Stories (*NEW*)

“Humans are storytellers. It is our nature to make up stories, to interpret 
everything we perceive. Without awareness, we give our personal power to the story 
and the story writes itself. With awareness, we recover the control of our story. 
We see we are the authors and if we don't like our story, we change it.” 
~Don Miguel Ruiz~


In order to give birth a woman must conceive. Think about it; the complexities and miracles happening simultaneously. To conceive is described as an expressive experience, a forming. A single solitary point in space and time in which a person seems to almost fold life into itself creating clarity. There is many times an almost audible click letting us know the rightness of our path when we make contact with the divine.

Just as we are what we think, so can we fall victim to who others think we are. When we let the mirrors that are our friends and family; the beloved and the strange, tell us who we are we feel trapped. I think one of the most important things I have learned to take into my fourth decade is that I no longer need to search for who I am outside of myself. I am learning to trust. I am learning to trust me.

I am learning to bend, not break. I am learning to patiently observe, not assume. I am learning to watch the people in my life to determine their authenticity, because in learning to love myself I see the damage NOT doing this creates. I am learning patience is not just a virtue, but an imperative. I am learning that true, healthy love is soft and gentle, not hard and cruel. Whom you choose to let into your life is a direct reflection of how you feel about yourself.

We bring to us what we are equipped to handle at the time. When we reach too high we fall often, feeling like failures, but that is not the case. We rushed. We pushed. We pulled. We flailed. We did not wait. Most times, we know this deep down and it's just a case of accepting where we are, when we're there. Our nature is that of impatience, distrust. One can never hold fast to something they grasp quickly, loosely or ingenuously. Diligence and intent is needed to embrace what we truly desire. A tight grip on what we hold dear. A fierce possession.

I vow to myself to welcome goodness, light and positivity into my life. I promise to strive to be true with my word and impeccable with my action. And when I fail... I swear to get back up, clear the dirt and air, and breath again.

My story does not have to be your story. It doesn't even have to come close.

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Daddy


“This is the ending. Now not day only shall be beloved, 
but night too shall be beautiful and blessed and all its fear pass away.” 
                                                                                           ~ J.R.R. Tolkien ~


It's a memory so worn in my mind there is a long dirt path, winding but always stopping at the same place. Shortly after my young father passed from a swift-killing cancer, I became an eleven year old island unto myself. I spent a lot of time alone. Mom worked full-time and my little brother was always somewhere else. I gave new meaning to the term "latch-key kid." I would come home to an empty house. The empty house that was the coordinates for my father's last breath. I think about this now and wonder what that first day must've been like...getting off that bus, fishing the key out of my pocket. I probably stopped in the driveway looking at the looming structure. I probably marched right up to my giant, hands postured to open that door as quickly as possible so that I would not loose heart. The door. Open. Staleness. Quiet. Empty. Gone. What did that feel like to a barely developed mind and soul physically unable to comprehend what this trauma would mean in my life; compulsive desperation, looming fear, permanent uncertainty. Did the rooms echo just a bit more than usual? Was the light unable to push through those clacking felt wooden blinds? Would this happen to everyone in my life? Would they all leave? I think I went straight to the empty dining room where a hospital bed was so quickly removed. I think I stood right in the center. I think I held my breath...for 27 years...hoping this was a mistake and daddy would come through that door. He didn't.

I now know that I need to take this child of eleven years and hold her, comfort her. For years all I did was try to strangle her one way or another. I could not make peace. I could not stare it in the eyes with Davidic ferocity. We had a beautiful antique Singer sewing machine in the hallway giving a panoramic view of the cedar foyer, front door and driveway. Like a dedicated puppy I would sense when it was time for my masters to come home. When they did not, I lay paralyzed on that floor, fingers tracing SINGER over and over again. My heart felt stopped; in my throat. What if they did not come back? What if I really AM all alone? Will this house swallow me? For years, I had recurring dreams of that house, always in stages of disarray and construction. I finally realize what it means; that I was literally stopped developmentally searching for something to complete my house. This yearning led me all my life to search for things outside myself to change the way I felt, because I could not leave that house. I was stuck, tips of fingers sliding over black gilded letters. I am ready to get my slingshot.

How do I do this? I step through it. I find a comfortable place within that fear, uncertainty and desperation not to stay, but to move through; shake it up, turn it loose. Think of days as a child sitting on the ground. Through a boredom, you are picking at the dirt. You find that perfect rock, but its beauty is embedded deep in the earth around it. With marked determination you start out with small picks at it getting that sparkly earth under your fingernails, musty damp hits your nose. You just take it one small movement at a time, but you don't give up and you stop looking to see how far you have to go.

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

The truth you are





 “I can't go back to yesterday because I was a different person then.” 
                                                                   Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

I never meant for it to happen. I lived my life as I was taught; the importance of achievement, the honor of degrees. I became a slave to standards of perfection that I was not able to garner. After years of doing what I was 'supposed to' do, I rebelled with fervor and systematically destroyed my life. I owned the homes, drove the cars and filled my closets with stuff in the hopes that things would make me happy; things would make people like me, things would sustain me. Being raised in a southern baptist family as the daughter of a preacher and a teacher, I was given a definite code of ethics to follow. I was given the blueprint for how my life should go, and when I started going off-course I looked at myself as a failure. I became captive, frozen in time to my failure. I was defeated.

It took years of poor thinking to get me where I landed. I was negative, fearful and suspicious. It seemed I was suspended in time as the eleven year old who lost her young father to a quickly devouring cancer; never to return. I lived in constant fear that everyone was going to leave me like he did, and that I could not trust in their existence. The more fiercely I held to this belief, the more it happened. This kind of retaliatory thinking leads one to actively push away people who attempt intimacy. I vowed one night soon after my father's passing to "never let anyone get close to me again." And, that's just what I did.

If you spend your life running from love, sooner or later you will stop, look around and see you are all alone. I picture a completely bright, white room with no edges; just a vast smooth, egg-like place where you find yourself, alone. Enclosed. A vacuum. There is a reason why a vacuum is nothingness. You must exhaust the gas in order to make room for something else. Just as we have to fall down before we can get up, those fortunate enough to have found their bottom- their vacuum- are blessed to have reached that white room and accept it, thus allowing space for more. More love. More life. More lessons. Oh, there's pain abound in this dark illusion of light where shadow cannot pass. The brightness around you blinds you to your shortcomings, your habits, your thoughts until one day you find shelter. The refuge of god. A higher power who will guide you through this process and, most importantly, never leave. Being able to address the truths about you that no one else knows and move through them is how you get to that space where you can finally, truly love. To be a giver, not a taker. The opposite of a vacuum is compression. Compression pushes out on whatever is surrounding it. Pushing out is giving. Arriving at that place in life where you are overflowing, leaking light on whatever is surrounding you is beauty in action.

It's all a big circle, life is. A cycle of wounded, broken souls spend time on their vision quest emerging transformed. As teachers of  the soul who know they can never go back to the person they were, they are obligated to reach out, see who grabs their hand. Come on, they say, let's find the truth you are.

Monday, December 3, 2012

Freedom


The whole war of control between humans is about making assumptions 
and taking things personally. Our whole dream of hell is based on that.
 ~taken from The Four Agreements~


Assumptions are like expectations. Assuming is accepting that something is true without proof, and taking it for granted that you could be wrong. It is believing that something is or did happen; you have already formed an opinion. Expectation is more of an action. It inspires hopeful anticipation based on the probability something will occur. There is expectation in assuming. Expectation can be assured confidence or fearful apprehension that lives in the present with its eye on the future. Assumption operates from the past being  more of an event that provokes judgement. Both can, however, cause us pain.

I discovered last year that I was selfish. I was absorbed in only how things affected me. I was not looking outside myself for how I could positively affect my environment. I was only dwelling on how it affected me. This is such a prison within itself that so many of us unknowingly remain. We think that we are not being focused on ourselves because we tell ourselves we are thinking of others. Yet, the way in which we think of those around us qualifies as absorption because we are thinking about how they affect us, not the other way around. And there you have it.

Seeing our character flaws is a brilliant thing, and changing them is a miracle. What we do not realize is that it can be done. It takes hard work, courage and a good support system; people around you who are not afraid to tell you what they see, and you being open enough to receive it. The recipe for success in this is put together by having something greater than yourself in your life, and being humble to that source. Learning that perspectives are filtered by thought-life gives you a head start in that the more positive your thoughts, the more adaptable your behavior.

I encourage others to really study this in themselves. I am not perfect by any means, but when I finally figured this out- I felt peace. I no longer took things for granted, or took them personally. Taking things personally is having personal importance over others where we make the assumption that everything is about us. Discovering that life is not all about you means that it is about others. What others do is not about you, it's about them. It's about their world, not yours. Taking things personally is making the assumption that they know what is in our world. Recognizing this will open up your heart, and free your soul. Try it. You might like it...


Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Brave

“Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage.” 
~ Anais Nin ~

I did something yesterday that I had never done before. I saw the red flags about something and stopped my involvement. Usually, I would ignore the strong intuitions I had about the situation, keep moving along and eventually get hurt all the while knowing that "I should have known better." What was it that finally made me do the right thing?

A smart man I knew once said that you have to be afraid of something to be brave. He was right. You do not have to gather courage about something that does not scare you. No one wants to be alone. Really. Many times we will settle for less out of the sheer thought of being by ourselves in a terminal way. Whether it is a job, a significant other or a place of residence if we do not let go of what we think is all we can get (therefore holding on for dear life) then we cannot open our arms to the wealth of existence that life in harmony can bring. This does not apply only to tangible things, but to ways of thinking, feeling and acting. So many times, we get stuck in believing things that do not serve us anymore or acting in ways that are self-destructive. At one time in my life, I was so fixed on negative ways of thought that positive thoughts repulsed me. I realized, however, that it was fear that fastened me to misery. Somehow I knew I was wrong, and in changing I would be admitting this. I would have to accept that I was wrong; alter how I viewed the world. As I adapted to this new reality my life became easier- I found joy!

When we get healthy emotionally, we realize that being alone is better than settling for things not good for us, or even just things not of our preference. We are willing to be brave; courageous in the land of the unknown. This realization is so freeing. It grounds us in a way nothing else could. It seals our fate in a way that will bring what we do want into our lives. Now, I'm just waiting....