Tuesday, March 30, 2010
It's not that anything is particularly bothersome, it's that everything is a little too sedate. I was just standing in the shower as the (wasted) warm water poured over me, wondering what it would feel like to be in a cocoon. Not the emotional/spiritual, self-mandated check-outs I frequently engage in, but an actual, physical cocoon. My conclusion was that it would be like a cozy snooze in a shaded hammock on a warm day. ahhhh...
I've been noticing that life comes at us in waves. Waves of regret, waves of rapture, waves of cognizance and a whole bunch of hellos and goodbyes. If you watch the ocean as it rolls in to kiss the shore, you can see one sheet of water gliding atop another, and another, then another, as their fluid edges creep toward you. They're like escalator steps that elevate and carry you to a new dimension right where you are.
There is no greater apology, in my current state of understanding, than to feel remorse for your mistakes. In this state you actually feel the pain which you have inflicted on another. Only in this realization do you know what apology is. But it doesn't end there. Every time you rise up to something new (evolve or grow), you have a newer and deeper understanding of pain- or better yet, joy- even (or especially) when it's someone else's.
People wonder why they have to keep dealing with things that they have already conquered. The truth is that as we grow we have new eyes and new thoughts that are better equipped to learn more with. This is a blessing, not a curse. Those waves just keep coming at us, each one riding its predecessor to a greater level. Don't look away.
Sometimes this learning overwhelms me. It's not that I can't handle it. I can handle anything. I can also choose not to. You see, for me the thing is that I'm done with all of the self-deprivation that formerly defined me. It was all I ever knew. The greatest gift that I can give myself right now is to take a time out, enjoy the warmth of this cocoon and be ready to spring forward when I'm ready. This isn't a cop out, it's a time of growth and wonder while I process what surrounds me, and readying myself for what I will be riding next.
Even though I don't feel the brightness of sunlight right this minute, I am enlivened by the distant, muffled sound of a beautiful song that I had long forgotten. It makes me yawn, stretch my arms, and remember that morning is lurking. Sometimes we can appreciate the sound of a friend opening the creaky old window, letting the warmth of spring in as the light warms our cocoon.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
(Nothing like a good wrench (ugghhh) in your tool belt. Wrecking balls are tools, yes? Heavy little lesson from yesterday... still digesting... still learning. Evolution is quite the process, huh?)
Saturday, March 27, 2010
(What is this obsession with wishing? Wish I had an answer)
Wondering whether or not, wishing it were so.
Wondering where you are, wishing I was too.
Can’t help but think that if you only knew, then maybe I would know it too.
If we could be more fortunate then we would be love's beacon.
If love walked through my door, then I could stop this always wanting more.
If you could be the happy one, then you would be so full of love.
I wonder if passion will ever rule, because I’m ready to be done playing the fool.
I wonder if we’ll ever be what was meant for you and me.
I wonder if you’ll ever see- the me in you, and the you in me.
If I could just stop thinking about what I want to be,
maybe there would be some peace, serenity's home in me
If I had just one wish, I’d wish to wish no more.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
One person's weed is another person's wildflower.
It seems that when I'm not feeling particularly strong or happy, whether it's worry or loneliness that is getting to me, I start wishing. Don't get me wrong, I'm always wishing for something but at these times it starts to consume me.
"What do you wish for?" is the voice's question that I hear over and over in my head. More frequently than not, I refuse an answer. Being afraid to want something is quite possibly one of my ugliest faults. It's not that I don't deserve my wants or recognize my wishes- I've just become a little too gun shy with tender wounds, to dare to want more. So, what is it that I wish for?
At this very minute I am wishing that I was well. Well enough to go out and play some pool or dance. Well enough to hit the trails in the morning. Well enough to sing and laugh out loud. But this will pass soon enough.
Yesterday in my restricted boredom I pulled my flute out of the closet. I had not touched my lips to its mouthpiece in close to two years. As I pivoted the cover open I saw that familiar tarnished silver lying naked in the crushed blue velvet, and breathed a heavy sigh. It took me back to memories of my first flute. The one that was so pathetically inadequate that I used to have to soak it in water in order to get the pads to swell up enough to encase a fingering. Playing that way was a challenge that I did my best to hide from my middle school peers and my teacher as I struggled to be good enough to keep up with the others.
Then there was the day when Mr. Piteo, my rock star band teacher put music in front of us that none of us had ever played before. I remember not much more than the feeling of magic inside of me. I just kept playing as he hushed everyone around me and pointed to the white girl with the tarnished old wind stick and told them all to listen. It wasn't until the very end that I started to get flushed and self conscious. Silence reigned for another measure of time once I'd finished before they all started hooting and hollering. I know that some of my notes were as broken as my pads, but it was the magic coming through me that they all heard.
Yesterday when I fussed with my flute and allowed myself to be pleased with what I HADN'T forgotten, I wished that I could play like I used to. What I did notice was that I was so much better, even after all of this time, at picking up music I had not rehearsed. And there was harmony and accompaniment which I had not previously been able to attain. I was grateful.
Tonight I sit here wishing that I was loved by another beautiful soul. There is an absolute sense of guilt in this wish as the truth is that I am loved. And I have been loved. It's just that right now I am not loved in the way that I wish to be, by whom I wish to be. This presence doesn't have a face, although there is the dream of one that haunts me. I know better than to push my luck there as what I want doesn't always mirror what anyone else wants, or ultimately, what is best for me. But, I am human, I have desires and I can't help but find certain people attractive. For all of my life I have given love the best way that I know how and I have felt let down again and again. I guess I'm just wishing for a soul with depth who sees what I see, to think that I'm sexy, and want me. But in the meantime I am very grateful for the glimpses of love that I have had.
I wish that a bolt of lightning would strike me and tell me what it is that I'm supposed to do with my life. Now that I'm almost grown up, having had to re-invent my whole new self, it's time to decide. What I always thought I'd be, well, I'm just not that anymore. I feel something calling me, but I can't tell which direction the voice is coming from. I sit in quiet mediation, waiting for the epiphany, but the only message that I ever get is to be patient. WTF?
So while I wait I find myself wishing for love- for myself and everyone around me. For a more compassionate world. For an end to hunger, disease, loneliness, and malice. I wish for a better me... and a beautiful you to find me.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
the one who smokes and inhales the sun
We’ll dance to tunes both old and new,
we’ll have a laugh, a token two
Then settle down around the fire,
to share memories and new desires
We’ll plot the course of earth’s new spin,
we’ll talk and laugh at how we sinned
Someday we will meet this girl,
the one who lives, the oyster’s pearl
And we will breathe her beauty
Sunday, March 14, 2010
I would drive for hours just for the pleasure of standing somewhere beautiful for just one moment. In that moment the sun will warm my face as the wind plays with my hair and swooshes my flowing skirt about me, making me more beautiful.
I would walk for days through sand, mud or rain to be somewhere with moist green grass that cools my feet. In that grass I would run and slide and giggle uproariously. And in that laughter I will feel the wealth of my soul.
I would cry forever if with every tear I could celebrate the thoughts that have made, broken, and then made me again. And when I breathe between the sobs I will realize again and again, the miracle of ME.
I would cry some more if all of my tears filled an ocean. A force that rushes and sweeps and washes over you. This power can only be controlled by my own submission to its wonder. In these moments where I lose myself I will be filled with the most beautiful light, laughter and love.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Can you open the door?
It’s raining out here
Didn’t know it would rain
Didn’t wear my rain gear
Can you listen a minute?
It’s noisy in here
Didn’t know of the party
Didn’t know they’d be here
Can you give me a ride?
My feet are so tired
Didn’t think I’d wear out
Always seemed I was wired
Can we sit for a minute?
Can I put my head down?
Didn’t think I could lose
Didn’t know I could drown
Can we climb that sweet mountain?
Can we just keep on going?
Don’t you think that it’s pretty?
That distant horizon?
Can you open the door?
Can you just let me in?
Didn’t think you’d forget this
Don’t you know who I am?
And oh, I am weary and tired tonight.
...be with me
...I know you'll be with me
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
And just because I still love you, it doesn't mean that I want you, or that someone else should be threatened by this emotion. Au contraire! I think that one of the things that I've learned to be the most grateful for, is that my love doesn't die. There was never a darker time for me, than when I thought that I had forsaken love. I blamed myself for way too much and wasted so much precious time thinking that I had failed. Yeah, love morphs when heated by the fires of reality, practicality and individuality, but it was, is and always will be... MY LOVE.
François-Marie Arouet (Voltaire) told us that we can not want that which we do not know. You have taught me so much. My heart and mind have been opened by both the joy and the pain that loving and losing you have afforded me. Some of these "things" are consuming concepts and some are simply refining edges which allow me more comprehensive definitions.
Thank you for helping me to learn to deal with disappointment, abandonment, anger, devastation and jealousy. Because of you I can now be disappointed and hurt and still wish the best for another, even when it doesn't include me. Thank you.
And don't think for a minute that just because you're not thinking about me, that I'm not remembering you. My heart never forgets. Never. I send you light, daily.
And for you who I dream about yet have not yet met, I love you and send you light every time I love, live and breathe. I honor your presence daily and look forward to seeing your face... any time now.
I don’t understand why people fight.
I don’t understand why someone would think that their needs are important enough to take someone else’s breath.
I don’t understand why people fear enough to hate.
I don’t understand why people fear love.
I don’t understand why people choose to ignore each other.
I don’t understand anger.
I don’t understand abandonment.
I don’t understand misunderstandings.
I don’t understand submission to weakness, anger, fear or hate.
There are some things that I just don’t want to understand.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Every time I turn around something looks or feels or sounds or tastes different. Knowing conjures a new meaning as it seems that what I "know" is simply my current understanding or perception at that particular time, as it relates to that particular thing. A malleable edge just waiting to be stretched… just a little more.
Returning to this less desirable state, my souvenir is the knowledge that the beauty of a moment is only real within that moment. And if I choose to look back and ponder the radiance within that light- I will be grateful for the beauty that was, for it will always be a part of me.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Friday, March 5, 2010
Waking to that dream in my head
The one I’ve dreamt again and again
just a hazy mist that clouds my bed
And returns my icy blood to red
Again I dream of you
Your show of magic captures my stare
Trapping me tight in your blinding black box
I strain to see this tricky dream, but if I
Watch your hands I won't hear what you mean
Because again I dream of you
The night’s long journey makes me toss and turn
The race is on as the pace is quickened
While the nearing dawn sparks the fiercest burn
Don't make me rise to another empty waking…
again I dream
Sweet dream's lullaby wrestles this new day’s glow
As dawn's lusty lips hum a yearning below
Don't wake me yet, it's much too soon
To begin the wait for another moon
I need just one more dream of you