Reaching out beyond the dream of what you thought was real, spinning on this ball of life, head now under heel. Ready to die, to live this life so raw, alive on ledge- dancing, hurling, freeing your soul to finally stretch the edge.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Crush me, baby

So, this morning I asked the beautiful question.  After hopping off of the elliptical machine where I'm working on building a more beautiful temple, I checked my email.  From the Daily Om... You are beautiful!  No joke- they knew it too!

Last night I got to spend some time with a man that I am quickly growing an adoration for.  Sure, he's cute and funny and at the very least, interesting.  Smart- not in a refined, Mensa way, but in a way that enables him to see things in himself and others.  I stared in disbelief as he spoke about making himself a better person.  Now that was the second man in one same weekend, who confessed imperfection.  I'm not sure that to someone like me, there could be anything more beautiful.

For the beautiful, no matter how long it lasts- thank you, thank you, thank you.


After all, it is a small world

Did you see it?
It was a glint of light
mingled with day before
turning to night

one small flash of wonder
as I danced through day's light
propelled by the magic
of this dream's lovely might

Did you hear it?
It was a note of splendor
which harmony joined
in the sweetest surrender

one small clash of thunder
that wakened the earth
as sweet spirits slept
awaiting their birth

Did you feel it?
moving just for a second,
the universe trembled
for it knew what my heart meant

one small jolt of motion
one heart can't stop beating
one soul for its wanting
one great dream for the taking

     -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -

(And I hovered over you today
I hope you do not mind
but as my heart was flying by,
I felt your soul in kind

one flash of lightning
which caught my eye
your dream's bright light-
just lit the sky)

An apple a day

Before my meditation I posed a question to the universe.  Asking for things seems a waste of time to me, as if I am to believe in G!d, I am also to believe that my life is already laid out for me.  If that's the case, I might as well just do the best that I can and learn to live in peace and love in spite of the happenings.  The question- how do I become more beautiful? 

The answer had nothing to do with makeup or hairspray.


Thursday, September 23, 2010

Once upon a time there was a screwdriver who lived in a toolbox that was sparsely filled with nearly new tools such as hammers, pliers, a handsaw and some screws and nails.  After a long wait the box suddenly opened late one afternoon and in poured light, in the middle of which was a head's silhouette.  The head's fingers poked purposefully through the tools, tickling the screwdriver just a little.  In the midst of her muffled giggle she recalled times when other tools were taken out but they never came back.  Every time the hand took her out, she would help to fix something.  But the hand always put her back. 

She grew a little sad when she remembered all of the tools which she had lost.

The hand then reached for her and handed her to another silhouette.  He turned, holding her closely and carefully and carried her from the garage.  Oh the ecstasy as she swung back and forth in the hand, on a magnificent and mysterious adventure.  He stopped and in the sun she could see his face.  This beautiful man was building stairs and walls and windows and doors.

The beautiful man grasped her firmly then immediately put her to work installing switch plates which he would use to turn on the light.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

It is

It is in the long shadows within the shade
it waits for me til I call its name

It is grimmest gray as it hugs yearning earth
dowsing parched, withered greens, quenching their thirst

It is explosive light trapped in a singular cloud
unabashedly longing to be bursting out

It is the dark within a dreary, cold night
that reaches for more, as it craves warmth and light

It is rising sun's splendor kissing ocean's still plane
til its rushing and swelling spawns joy's crashing wave

It is spilling your soul into hands cupped with care
that hold it so dear, just let go - and you're there

It is in the long shadows within the shade
I dance madly, gladly, calling its name

It is what it is, nothing more, nothing less
cuz you get what you chase when you follow your bliss

Monday, September 20, 2010

Wish I may, wish I might

Laid my head back slow and steady
eyes fixed on the moon beaming just beyond me
light so bright it wooed and pulled me
with its lure, its untethered energy

Deeper into the night illumined
to the north bout quarter of a sky beyond
hung the brightest star, had it been bigger
would have dwarfed the moon for sure

I wondered what its name was called
I wondered if it was a star at all
it could have been a plane or comet
yet it moved not from its anchored home

Again I wondered what its name was
and then- I    remembered    you
and all the times you named them surely
as I lingered in your soothing glow

'Bout half way cross the southern sky
my eyes went searching for your sweet smile
and I wondered, through a stream of tears
if you ever knew how much I loved you

Your bright, bright light just out of sight
with the moon so full on this lit up night
but in dreams I dream of life that was you
and pray that time will not eclipse you

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Just desserts

Sitting on the beach today I snacked on Cracked Pepper and Olive Oil Triscuits dipped in Roasted Red Pepper Hummus.  I think I burned more calories typing that, than I did in the consumption of the snack.  It seems that everywhere I turn I hear people dressing up the sounds of their tastes.  My mom used to wow us with English Muffin pizzas.  Today they would be basil infused marinara reductions on toasted European sourdough muffins, encased in oven roasted mozzarella, garnished with hand-ground basil.

Somewhere along the line we have become a population of people who expect too much.  When, as children, we had nothing, we seemed to have everything.  A lover gone by once told me that I needed to reduce my expectations if I wanted to find true happiness.  This kind of made me laugh because where material things are concerned I have no expectations.  Sure, there are things that I value, things that I crave, and some that I adore.  So I have carried his words with me and many times allowed them to echo through the hollows of my thoughts, hoping that they would leave at least a trace of wisdom behind.

Two weeks ago my 14 year old son told me that his father had asked for pictures for his birthday.  During our marriage I was diligent in providing him with all of the classic, requisite birthday and school portraits, but when we divorced I took all of the photos.  The family photos- the ones with all of the memories, mostly of happy and fun times.  During the course of our proceedings as he took my house, my child, my money, and my dignity; he also tried to make me surrender all of the photos.  When that didn't fly he tried to sue me to pay for making him copies of them all.  He didn't win that battle either.

I remember sitting in court thinking that I had nothing else to lose to him, so please G!d, don't let him take this too.  The bitterness behind this feeling was not based in jealousy, but in anger and hurt.  The things that he did to my children, my family, and me were at times, abominable.  How could he possibly think that he had the right to own photos of those times that went up in flames because of his behavior?  How dare he not remember what we all gave for his career, as he swiped our lives out from under us?  No, he didn't win that battle.  My children's pictures were safe from the man who harmed them, and where they rightfully belonged.

A lot of time has passed and the wounds still smart a little when you touch them.  Countless hours I spent scanning photos, dredging up memories, crying, and laughing.  I didn't cry for what I didn't have- I am actually grateful for where I am now.  I cried for what I lost.  I lost a really big battle.  Never in my life would I have dreamed that loving someone would be so hard, so much work, or hurt so much.  But I believed that he needed what I had to give and I hoped that he would learn to trust my love.

You know, it's been so easy throughout these recent years, to remember all of the bad that went down.  But scanning the past was a beautiful reminder of some good that also happened, which had been forgotten.  It allowed me to honor him, in spite of the wrong, for what was right. This, regardless of all that happened, is his right.

It took me a little while to get here, but here is where I'm standing and everything looks just a little bit different now.

So as he blows out his candles and Jake is proud to give him his gifts, I am making my own quiet wish that he will find hope; that he will learn to trust love, and that he finds happiness.  You know I thought about making my own cake to celebrate this victory of mine- perhaps a mocha laced cocoa rectangulaire confeit, drizzled in a chocolate ganache, garnished with glazed berries... but then I thought "how 'bout a bowl of popcorn?"  After all, I got more than I ever expected and it's just a dessert.

Sunday, September 5, 2010

the wind blows
let it
bend you

the breeze tickles you

the mighty gale
moves and rearranges
you, ride its current

its force has
beckoned you
stay, come, go

just feel the wind