the drought

You know when you want to cry, but you can't? It goes on for days and days, building up pressure, waiting to explode. But you won't because if you do, you might never stop. Sometimes I feel that if I succumb to my weak feelings I will somehow insult the universal abundance of gifts which I know I am fortunate to know. This is what keeps me from melting... until I pass a sweet little kitten in the road, laying on its back, struggling to move a forearm, in some delirious effort to escape the road... which is now to be its grave. For this I can cry.

Watching a little boy beg for a toy from his parents- just a cheap little truck.  The parents who are half-filling their carts with the biggest box of inexpensive laundry detergent they can manage, and some Kmart sales rack apparel. There is nothing I want more than to go pick out a REALLY nice truck and give it to him in the parking lot. But I don't... I just slink into my great car, close my eyes and fight back the tears. Half way to my big, beautiful house I realize that a few drops have quietly rolled down my face, reminding me that hurt was there.

How is it that I have learned to be thankful for the abundance of things such as the flight patterns of hummingbirds or the sparkling light filtered between leaves, or the the glowing halo of colorful light that hugs the hills' tops once the sun has set? How is it that I have learned to be thankful for what has come and what has left, yet feel so blue when I am alone in the magnificence of a luminous morning?

Someone told me today that when we embrace abundance we have nothing left to want. I'm afraid that if I hug it any tighter I'll squeeze the life right out of it. You know, when I finally get to take a walk in my hills I think we will be like lovers who have not touched, but for our yearnings, over time too long to measure. Why is it that I always crave the magick I cannot see? When is what I have going to be enough for me?

Is there something wrong with wanting? I'll bet that little kitten wanted to get up and run right out of that road, or away from the car which must have struck it. I'll bet the little boy dreams of trucks and cars and maybe someday he'll have a real one of his own. Me? Well sometimes I would just like to cry and feel sorry for myself, instead of transferring it to someone else. I don't know if this avoidance is an effort to work on my gratitude and positivity, or just an underlying desire to cling to my misery.

It's time to wake up.

I AM Laura

Thirty-two days into my hiatus of hoping...

Thirty-four days since my heart has hurt. As with anything that I choose to do (and I can do anything I choose), it's just a matter of wanting to. So I granted myself six months in which to finish healing my body and regaining my strength, unleashing the bold energy I've been harboring inside of my hurts and disappointments.

This serenity is like a blanket of fog- cool and refreshing, engulfing me in an anonymity that blocks all entities that might tether me. Free to be alone in my own wonder. Free from all expectations which are merely limitations of bliss.

Waking in the morning to see nothing beyond the faint silhouettes of my soaring pines, I no longer pine for that which would stifle me. Now I join the morning's magnificence as I breathe in all of this quenching water, the conductor of energy so electric... the connection between me and the bliss, the wonder and the source.

There is nothing left but to be grateful for the love I have been given. Not bitter for what I don't have, but blessing that which will always be with me. I send love and light to that which has made me more beautiful.

As the sun rises in the sky the light between the water's molecules brightens and my energy glistens as the glow intensifies in both my eye, my spirit and my body. But not even the sun can burn through this thickness so quickly. This is the moment where I wait for nothing and its wonder carries me to a world which I have not known- and I am finally home.

I am
the wonder in the light
I am
the song of tapping rain
I am
the joy within a giggle
I am
the ocean's crashing fury
and the moon's mighty sway

I am
the night's bright twinkling
I am
the morning's rising way
I am
the tears which quench the wanting
I am
the air we breathe
and the life in the seed

I am
a tree's bough reaching
I am
a bold heart beating
I am
the magick you are seeking
I am
the cry in the night and
the warmth of the light

I am

Seeing red

Long day
worked hard
did some good
loved some people
laughed
cleared some clutter
opened my heart again
listened to the quiet
adored the setting sun
felt the moon rise
the days filled with
the simple things
are the ones most
wondrous,
the ones that feel
so good
when I lay
my head down

It's no secret... it's life

Tired of this dull little lull that makes me want to go bye.  Got some red nails, all 20 of them and a new red dress that was oh so pretty. Maybe I'm done feeling this way. Maybe I'm not. I guess I'll see again tomorrow. Time to rest...

wake up you sleepy bear

wake up the morning’s here

the light shines through

that cracked old door

and sprays across the dusty floor

wake up Rumplestiltskin

wake up- the day is new

the coffee’s on

the eggs are done

the table waits for you

wake up, sleepy head

wake up before it's night

the sun is warm

outside we’ll run

wake up and feel the light

9.10.11, the winnable war

We speak many languages 
but we are all of this earth
We call our god by different names
yet we all seek goodness
We construct our own rules
for we all love our children
Sleeping in mansions or huddled against buildings
we all touch this earth
We drink from the same sky
and splash in the same oceans
for we all thirst
We must all survive madness
We must all feed our families
We all crave laughter and love 
We all crave kindness and understanding
No matter where we are
or what we call it
or for whom we love
Goodness weaves us ONE
blanket of love
ONE body of caring
ONE thought of hope
to win this war


If in this hour of remembrance if we focus on the injustice, the anger and the pain, not only are we antagonizing old wounds; we would also be murdering the victims again.  If instead, we let go of the ick and celebrate what we have learned, then we honor the lost with our gratitude.

So many people choose to blame and harbor hate against Muslims for what was done on 9/11. Islam is a religion which encourages morality, an adoration of nature and peaceful living. Sin is defined as forgetfulness- because we are all good, but sometimes forget to be.  Hating Muslims for the despicable terror of 9/11 is as silly as hating Catholicism for the degeneration of a few pedophiles, or for despising patriotism for the lunacy of Timothy McVeigh, or hating all Romans for the slaying of Christians. The aberrant ones are not representative of their associations. They are the forgetful who cannot see the good.

Many have gone before us and many more will follow.  The majority of people whether Christian, Muslim, Jewish, atheist or otherwise are good.  They all have their reasons for following a set belief path that encourages living a life of integrity.  We all call it something different, but it all boils down to goodness, regardless of its naming.  The important things are to continue in our goodness, in spite of the wrongs.  To learn from whatever life teaches us, and to move forward in a spirit of caring for our brothers.

We speak many languages but we are all of this earth. We call our god by different names, yet we all seek goodness. We construct our own rules, yet we all love our children. Some of us live in mansions and some huddle against buildings in the cold night- yet we all touch this earth. We must all survive madness, feed our families, and we all enjoy laughter.  We are all in this together, no matter what we call it.

So this day has come, the day that we knew would hurt. Ten years ago we were raped of our dignity and our security. We thought we were the untouchable giants who could have it all. But we lost so much and its cost was beyond measure. If anger remains our only paycheck, then we still lay in debt to the force which harmed us. Quietly we must lay down our venomous conceptions to become the most worthy opponents of our adversaries, of ourselves- when we embrace the wonder of what is and what is in each other. Then, and only then, can we win this war.

A quickening

I caught a butterfly today and held it in my hand
flutters of its wings warned me so still, to stand
Cupping it within my hands, I could barely steal a peek
and could not see its wonder, its color, its freedom

How can a butterfly be beautiful if it is not free?
Can love mean something if you choose not to give to me?
Can something be what it longs to be
if I dare to impose on it that which is me?

Can beauty live enslaved in want?
or color beam even when choked by dark?
Does the earth still spin if I hold my breath?
Or does beauty entice us in spite of ourselves?

gift

Roaming the earth with
scorched and blistered feet
Face burned by the sun
hands filled with dirt
filled with air

We had so much to learn

and when comes the night
with its dark, soothing cool
we will feast on the stars
hearts filled with the light
filled with love

We have so much to live

090511

I don't know how to do this.

Where is the madness, the screeching, the wind?

I don't know how to do this.

The only thing sweeter than a hilltop view is watching the dry hills drink the rain.

This I can do.

More beautiful

Dreaded daylight's dimming
quiets remnants of the light within
when dark descends and steals from me
what I thought would be my dream

No words to bless this emptiness
no touch to feel this dwindling bliss
the dream I stoked throughout this day
is closing its sleepy eyes to rest

The wonder of  this fire within
consuming what's been sorely missed
has burned a deeper dream so sweet
which whispering winds have promised me
 
But oh- another night and one more day
have now come to fruitless pass
but tomorrow brings another hope
for the brighter light I yearn to know as

The mares cross night time's burning hills
their thunderous pace in silhouettes
against the flames that are scorching these
fiery dreams whose heat can free the seed

of sweeter dreams, more beautiful

I think that what I miss the most about being loved is the warm, strong chest to lay my head on, while we talk, lay quietly, touch each other sweetly, bask in the light...

or maybe it's someone to talk to each night, who cares about whatever it is I have to say whether happy or sad...

but oh, the feeling of warmth when I'm shopping in the grocery store, to make him something delicious for dinner. And something sweet for dessert...

Waking up early and staring at a beautiful face, so peacefully sleeping. Drinking my coffee and thinking about him, then climbing back into bed to be next to him, to be with him...

Feeling as if the world is mine because this beautiful man loves me, and cares for me, and exercises his thoughtfulness and sweetness, always giving to me...

Someone to laugh with...

Someone to cry with...

Someone to be silent with...

Falling asleep next to him, touching. Then waking up in the middle of the night and making love again... maybe for a few minutes, maybe for an hour... maybe forever...

Let not my heart be weighted

Nor my love be blind or shaded

If my light be sadly faded

When love once again comes fated,

Knocking at my door

May two fiery souls’ union

Come to me none too soon then

With a blessed and warm reunion

Of souls' unabashed communion...

Oh love, come call on me

Puzzled

So I was thinking... (imagine that) since I got lost in a thought this morning, about why some love stays and some love goes.  Earlier I wrote about how giving love is never really a loss because it all adds itself into the love that someone is and becomes.  These gifts are never in vain.

Countless childhood memories see me as a child watching my mother putting puzzles together.  She would sit there humming endlessly because this one event was always her passport out of reality.  There were no chores to be done, no supper to cook, no children to be tended to.  There was just a pretty picture to hum her way through.

My favorite part of assembling a puzzle was always putting the edge rows together.  Those always made sense to me because they were sharp, clear and had limited directional possibilities.The insides always frustrated me and unless the puzzle was 100 pieces or less, I usually walked away before it was done.

It took me a long time to realize that puzzles are just not my thing.  I wonder what else I need to learn...

Firecrackers

You know that hot, stagnant day that seems to last forever.  Then there's a pop, another crackle a few minutes later.  It happens again after a little while.  Then it's like a brick of firecrackers ferociously exploding in an abundance of noisy energy.

That's what it's like inside my head, today.  The fourth of July.

Stretch marks

For I, who dances in the starry night
me, the one who sees the colors
within the brightness of white light
I called on you to hold my hand
I beckoned you to see me through
I felt you walking by my side
but now tell me is this real...
or have I simply gone mad?


In the secrets I hear in the morning hour
near the edge of breaking dawn
within the abandon of cloudy rides
or journeys to the fire within
The maddening edge from which I jump
to arrive at bliss's door
Tell me, for I who once did not believe
Is this sweet dream my heaven?

The form of emptiness

Why do the days when your heart is so heavy, last so damn long?

These last few months have brought more disappointment and heartache than I would have chosen had life offered me a menu.  Really- who would consciously choose from the back page "Lose it" category, when appetizers, entrees and desserts are an option?

Heavy in my thoughts is the possibility that I am working out my previous lives' karmic debts.  I do not dare to make a decision on my opinion on that whole possibility, as I have nothing to go on, other than it would explain a lot.  But what I am left with must not be wrestled with, as that will simply exhaust my energies and probably result in nothing more than two losers- me and a theory.  Instead I must just be with what is.  

Leaving Frank in a state of fear and anxiety could have done no less than break my heart.  It's still broken and leaking and I suspect will remain so for quite some time.  And yet, it forced me to see not just the residues of both the mistakes I made along the way, as well as the shattered debris that I once thought was the absence of joy. When his brilliant light shined on those streaks-I saw an incredible man who didn't only suffer because of my flaws, but one who chose to realize all of the things that were good and right.

Countless hours and tears I have spent over the years, worrying that I had wasted time and goodness in vain attempts at life and love.  All that I ever wanted was for my love to matter to someone.  When I think about all of the love that I have gifted, I can't help but wonder if any of it ever made a difference.  It is sometimes hard to imagine that it has, but just like with Frankie, when you watch it move forward and you see a person win and find love (even when you once thought it would be you), then you know that it really has, don't you?

For all of the love that has been given to me, and for which was received from me, I am thankful.  For all of the wisdom that I have acquired, gratefulness fills me. To all of the joy and the heartaches that brought me here, I am indebted. 

08.24.11

A couple of meditative moments from this morning:

• The best that you can expect from a relationship with another, can never exceed the relationship which you have with yourself. The love, respect and appreciation which you impart to yourself, is then available to share with another.

• Gratitude does not begin with Thank or end with You. It is an explosive attitude beyond occasion or giver. It is the love that fills the spaces between molecules, that holds beauty and light. When we are receptive to life we know to be thankful for all that we are, and everything that happens.

• Love is not to be limited to that which loves us. There is never enough love that we can give. ESPECIALLY when it's hard. This is when it matters the most. To know and practice this is to be truly blessed.

And speaking of love and gratitude... today I was able to assume the downward dog position.  It didn't even hurt. I am tingling from head to toe right now, and grateful for the healing I have achieved which will allow me to be healthy and whole again... and better than ever before.  Every day brings new challenges and every day brings new insight.

BLISS!

What is...

the morning's light
peeking through the trees
kissing your face

the afternoon's breeze
sneaking through the heat
playing with your hair

the sound of the ocean
drowning your thoughts
and setting you free

trekking through forests
held safely in the hand of nature
releasing all fear and judgment

raising your hands to the heavens
and calling your angels, then
bowing down to thank the earth

touching your finger to the sweet
smooth skin of a lover
to feel the heartbeat of your god

the sound of giggling children
unabashed and loudly ringing
as you watch their bodies shake

flying through the night
amidst the stars
to touch the light

to be silent and lost
in your own breath
and your own heart's beating

to hear the whispers
of the mighty trees
and surrender to their fallen leaves


to touch the earth
to light the sky
to bow to quiet that I Am

...bliss

the artist

Everything happens. How you let it change you, paints its reason.  There are no promises nor guarantees from life, only chances worth taking and victories worth claiming.  Sometimes the victories are not what you envisioned.  Sometimes they break, then re-make you. Sometimes they send you reeling through space with your hands in the air, squealing.  But make no mistake, things will keep happening.  Happen with them.  Offer no resistance.  Yield.  Learn.  Give thanks.  It's really pretty simple.  Everything is part of your canvas.  What you paint, is your art.

Namaste,
Lala

Just a little game I like to play

Last night as the four of us finished dinner, the realization sunk in fast and deep, that these days would soon end.  In just three days, Frank will be setting off on his new life's adventure.  I could see it in all of our faces and I could certainly feel it in the lump welling in my throat.

Turning to J, I asked him what he loved best about Frankie.  The game began.  We circled the table three times, each of us telling what we loved about Frankie, then me, then Jake, then Kate.  There were no rules.  The respect for the person speaking was an unspoken mandate and it just seemed so natural for the person speaking to look into the eyes of the much loved recipient.

Have you ever heard really good news that you weren't expecting, making it seem as though it wasn't really happening, leaving that woozy feeling in your head?  I got dizzy several times, as the realization that I have truly amazing, deep thinking and feeling children, whose substance affords them an appreciation of truly great qualities.  Wow.  These children, the older two having lost two dads, and the youngest, whose life was turned around at a critical time... these three who sustained move after move, across this big country, who watched their mom hit the depths of despair, and who battled their own suicidal demons and worries of all sorts... these people who now have become responsible, driven, laughing, appreciative, caring, thoughtful souls...

they are love and happiness, they are my bliss.

"Everything happens. What you do with it, paints its reason." -Lala

Ruins be gone

Joy


Wunjo – “Won-joe” – Literally: “Joy” – Esoteric: Hope, Harmony, Perfection
Key Concepts: joy, perfection, the art of correct wishing, correct application of the will, well-being, contentment, hope, expectation, relationship, family, bonding, trusted kinsfolk, shared ideals or aims, group harmony, symbols of shared identity, optimism, cooperative effort, like-mindedness, friendship
Psi: contentment, optimism, like-mindedness, wishful thinking, shared identity
Energy: harmony of like forces, effortless ease, fellowship, fulfillment, wishing, genuine friendship,
Mundane: parties, friendship, family, community

Divinations: Joy, harmony, fellowship, accomplishment, prosperity; or stultification, sorrow, strife, alienation, warns of caution, blindness to danger, deception, betrayal.
Governs:
Strengthens links and bonds
Invocation of fellowship and harmony.
Banishes alienation and other inharmonious impediments to trust
Creating joy through the use of true will
Realization of the link and multiplicity of relationship of all things
The art of correct wishing, ‘law of attraction’

Oh what a brilliant web we weave

A few weeks back the minister at the Unity Center challenged us to "release our inner spider."  She talked about how they just jump, always knowing that the result will be that everything will be okay, and that the end result will be a web.

The past few mornings as I practice walking around my backyard with unsure, slow, careful, baby steps, I have noticed so many spider's web strings that reach horizontally for an impossible distance.  How can such a small thing make it two feet away, and reach the desired height to begin their webs?  While drinking my morning coffee I watched a video about how spiders spin their webs.  It isn't just blind faith that they count on.  They must also, for that first strand, which is to become the footing of the web, ride the breeze.  This gift of nature carts their weightlessness across the expanse of the space which is to become their canvas.

Now this riding made me think of the Wu Wei which is the effortless force of living, which allows us to do without doing.  Life cannot be manipulated or directed, we must ride the winds that are set before us.  Of course once we are moved, it is up to us to spin the web, put in the work, and be driven with determination.  The end result is something wonderful for the whole wide world to see.

Wish I had something to say
like
hey, how was your day, or
what is going on with you?


Wish I had something worth hearing
like
telling you about the dreams I'm dreaming, or
what's going on with me

Wish someone would listen
to
things that make my heart beat
things that make me cry

Wish someone heard me crying
when
I see the children bleeding, or
the mother's empty arms

Wish someone cared about
the
oceans that are drying, or
the animals that are dying

Wish someone saw me
when
I reached my hand out gently
to the soul who truly needed

I wish someone would turn their heart
on
and feel the beating that
beats in time with every other

I wish someone would see
that
their ideas of divinity only choke
the bliss of others

I wish someone would feel
the
wonder of the light in the bliss
of each, his brothers

I wish I could say out
loud
that you are your light
and all you ever need

I wish I could stop wondering
what
would make this world much sweeter,
because it already is


I wish I had something to
say
today, that would make the hatred, fear, and disillusion
fade away

I wish I had something to say