Category Archives: Life Lessons

The Best of Love

The Best of Love
aka – how to avoid talking yourself out of love

The Best of Love

Falling in love is easy. I’ve met people who fall in love on a regular basis. But staying in love doesn’t happen by accident.

Do you remember falling for your partner? The intellectual conversations were profound, the jokes were hilarious, and the only person you could see was her. Her smile lit up the whole room; her hair was soft, silky, and sexy; and her body and her curves drove you to distraction. She was the person with whom you wanted to spend all your time, whether it entailed dancing, driving, or dinner.

And if you forgive the ongoing alliterations, you would have said that she was pretty, playful, and probably perfect.

So you fell in love.

With love came a bit of responsibility. You had to be considerate of someone else. You had to think about her feelings, her wants, her desires. You were so in love with her, though, that this wasn’t problematic. She was still your night and day and you still desired her above all else.

So, how does that change?

Did you become complacent? Do you believe that now that you have ‘won’ this beautiful creature, you no longer need to try? Did you decide to notice things and categorize them as faults or imperfections?

One of the most wonderful things about loving someone intimately is the fact that you get to be part of their world. You get to know their messy thinking, their silly habits, and the bald truth of exactly who and what they are. You get knowledge about her that perhaps no one else in the entire world has. You get to share joys and worries, hopes and fears, celebrations and heartaches. There is no greater power on Earth than the power of Love.

And yet, it is so very easy to become complacent, to minimalize this astounding gift, to take what you have for granted.

Consider this…

If you love someone, no matter what, you ought to be able to look at someone else and sincerely say something akin to “she is pretty but I like your body better.” It’s that f#*ked up thing where your lover might not actually BE better but they always GET to be better in your mind. Why? Because you are in love!

How can ANYONE be better than my lover? Hella, No! Can’t. Be. Done.

Can you see the pitfalls of not believing this?

The minute you think she is “not as good as XX (insert whatever)” then somewhere, even if it is in the back of your mind, that thought begins to take hold. And, following through, if you can begin to think that she is “not as good as” it can easily become “I wish she were more/less XXX.” From there, it could blossom into active dislike and the idea that the grass might be greener someplace else.

But loving someone means loving them as a whole, not as individual parts. You love her, body, mind, and soul. When you begin to think that something or someone else is better, even in part, you begin to fall out of love, begin to find fault, begin to allow a lessening of that amazing gift of love that you were given.

You do not have to think she has no faults to believe she is perfect. Of course she isn’t perfect, but she is perfect for YOU.

“Your beliefs become your thoughts,
Your thoughts become your words,
Your words become your actions,
Your actions become your habits,
Your habits become your values,
Your values become your destiny.”

Advertisements

I am Woman, Hear Me (not) Roar

It has been said that everyone has a reason in life. The trick is finding your reason for being here and becoming the best at whatever that reason might be. Sometimes though, it seems that the reason you think you are here might not be the reason you actually are.

I think my writing is a gift. It’s a bit weird for me to be able to say that because I also believe I am, other than in a teasing way, one of the most non-egotistical people around. Stating your gift, or gifts, certainly feels seriously egotistical.

I can express the idea that in my mind at least, I am a wonderful writer. I write happy, I write sad, I write bored and I write angry. It is harder for me not to write than it is to write. And dammitall, I think I’m pretty good at it. But even here I am aware of my limitations, or at least some of them. For the most part I write awful poetry. It’s usually syrupy and pedantic with an absence of depth. When I write poetry, what you see is generally what you get.

WYSIWYG.

Kind of a theme in my life. I’m pretty open and obvious even when attempting to be circumspect by covering up my emotions. Maybe I do this subconsciously. In reality, I am the epitome of the Cancer Woman. When I hurt it shows. Perhaps I want someone to acknowledge that hurt, pet me and tell me how it will somehow all be all right. I don’t expect other people to fix my hurts or my problems, I just want extra love. Maybe. Perhaps my moral choice so many years ago of not lying has simply leaked out into this aspect of my life as well.

Because I’m certain I can lie. Everyone can. I found out when I was fairly young though that I could lie convincingly. I had a natural ability to create stories, fabrications, and believable misdirections. I could probably sell ice to the Innuits and wool sweaters to tropical inhabitants.

So I don’t do it. And so, when I am angry or scared or hurt, it usually shows.

And so I write. I take reality and get to bend it to my will and my pen, to let loose my inner liar, to create stories in whatever manner I choose.

And this, actually, is not the reason for this post.

In reality, while I believe my gift is my storytelling (perhaps you can call it lying), there is a distinct possibility that I am incorrect in my assessment. Perhaps the reason that I am placed upon this humble Earth is for a different reason altogether.

Perhaps my reason for being is merely to be here for other people. Again, I’m a Cancer. Apparently it is what we do.

While that sounds wonderful, perhaps even noble, it appears to me that while I am busy attempting to share the burden of some, to make others feel peaceful, to help whomever I can with the resources I enjoy, there are others out there that use my gift for ill.

There are people in this world who will indicate that they espouse the edicts of live and let live; peace, love and harmony; or first, do no harm. But they are merely paying lip-service to these ideals. At the first brush of pain or hurt or anguish in their lives, they lash out. Instead of accepting their own feelings, they lay blame. And in my experience, oft-times, their pain, or anger, or jealousy is directed outwardly and to a source not quite rational.

Perhaps this is part of my reason. To be helpful to those that I can and a target for those who are in need of one.

I have to tell you, it isn’t my favorite.

I dislike getting foul, angry emails from ex-girlfriends of my lover. I cringe at the necessity of turning the other cheek as I am taunted or treated contemptuously by those who feel they are better than I or by ex-wives,or ex-whatevers, especially when my lover is out of hearing range. I do not appreciate being misunderstood and lashed out at by anyone, especially those with whom I am intimate.

And yet, I seem to be a focal point for those who have no control over themselves or their actions. It wounds me greatly to be treated in this manner and I seem to be incapable of hiding it. I will not fight for myself over petty differences or in accepting this emotional backlash. I will not retaliate in an effort to make myself feel better. Where exactly, is the love and kindness and peace in that?

There isn’t any.

So, while I may be hurt, I am also in control. Do not believe that my lack of retaliation is a sign of weakness when it is, in fact, a sign of my strength. But also do not believe that I will accept the burden of another’s lack of self control when it comes to those I love or when that abuse begins to affect others due to the irrationality placed upon me.

Never believe that I am incapable of standing up for myself in addition to protecting others. I simply choose what I believe is the best course towards peace and harmony – not only in my life and for the lives of those surrounding me, but for the greater good and peace in the world.

Do not believe my acceptance is stupidity or gullibility. I am both intelligent and intuitive. I understand what is going on; I get the thinly veiled attempts at derision, the snide remarks, the put-downs. I simply choose to not engage. Do not misunderstand this, or me.

I am not weak, I am strong.

Peace

Words Darker Than Their Wingss


More Physics of Love

Accept the physics of love.

Where there is laughter there will be tears. Where there is pleasure there will be pain. Where there is love there will be hate.

Take the bad and accept it for what it is – simply a moment in time and one from which to learn. For every moment of despair, for every feeling of inadequacy, for every unfortunate happenstance, there is an equal and opposite amount of positive experience.

For every trial that is overcome a stronger bond is formed. For every misunderstanding there is a greater understanding. Every hurt, every moment of anger, every tear is but a brick in the foundation of the strongest castle.

For every pleasure there is pain.

Recognize this and understand that the gift of love should be enough to see you through those times of gloom. Realize that the joys are worth every second of heartache experienced together.

Do not stay convinced that a life without negativity or pain could be yours. Learn to fight fairly. Fight each day for the wonderment of love instead of only when it is falling apart.

physics of loveYou worked to keep me only when I was ready to leave. I stayed each time because my heart chose to believe that perhaps this would be the time you would decide that love would be worth the effort. We could have been Antony and Cleopatra, Hepburn and Tracey, Bonnie and Clyde.

I will mourn for you. I hope that one day you may learn the truth that love is worth any effort. And if it is true that I have ruined you, I am selfishly glad because then I have managed to touch a part of you that will be forever mine – as there will always be a part of you within me.

You will be replaced and I will love again. This is perhaps the greatest gift you have given me, the knowledge that I can love. But … I will not settle, not ever again.

I am me and I am not broken. I can love … and I will. I want love and I will have it and my choices are practically limitless. I will be safe and I will be particular and I will be true to myself to an extent that I never before have been. And I will gladly give my heart and my soul to one who understands that love is worth the effort and that the physics of love requires one to accept the lows alongside the highs. sp

 

The_Ruling_Ring


Fire Woman

phoenix

The pain is agonizing. A tempest of fire which engulfs my paralyzed body. A dying breath which fills my straining lungs with the weight of water. The driving beat of a death march which pounds ceaselessly through my head.

My heart, a festering wound laid open to the elements, continues to beat cadence, uselessly, unwantingly. My mind, a maelstrom of disjointed thoughts, wrecks havoc with concentration. My soul, a rank oubliette of dark forces, fights for possession of my sanity.

Yet my sanity, my beliefs, my light will win. On this topsy-turvy day, when St. George is the incarnation of evil and the dragon a symbol, my symbol, of the belief in the fantastical, the dragon will emerge victorious. The dragon, with his belief in the precious and his hope and his impossible possibilities of things beyond normal ken, will save the princess, the symbol of light, love, and truth.

I will look to the skies, the heavens above, and I will rejoice for that which is, that which was, and that which may someday be. I will wallow in the knowledge that a year of the brightest, most pure, most incredible light, rested in my hands, in my heart, and in my soul.

I will honor the memory of that light from now until my dying breath and I will never, ever forget the beauty of the world seen through the filter of those magical fairy-lights. Instead of mourning that which may be lost, I will learn to accept that which is and rejoice in that which was. I will be profoundly ecstatic that such an otherworldly spark provided such an amazing year of fire and light and laughter.

I will learn to believe again, trust again, and hope again. I will find the spark compatible, one which burns fresh and bright. There will be a flame destined to join with mine to build not a funeral pyre but a healing blaze and a new beginning.

I will burn not in the ashes of this time. I will call the dragon “Phoenix” and I will be the princess of the tale. I will rise from the ashes, be a woman on fire, spreading arms above me in exultation, laughing in delight, rejoicing in the heat of a new life.

My dragon will be my hero and we will burn together. And from the ashes of defeat we will rise again to challenge the boundaries of reality and create our own mystical world, a world in which the princess is the bringer of light and the wellspring of love, a world which brings forth the fairy-lights for all to see.

We will remember. And the spark will never die.

Phoenix_love


Through the Glass

Ouroboros

I look in the mirror only to encounter a pair of haunted blue eyes. I would give anything to remove the pain and sadness and the tiny spark of anger which lurks thief-like in the corner.

My empathy moves me to help people in need. I wish often to make people’s lives easier, happier, or less burdensome. I am willing to go to the ends of the earth for those I hold dear and oft-times even for those I do not know.

Physician, heal thyself.

How? I look in the mirror and instead of being happy that my face is intact, that my body is functional, that my clothes are both useful and nice, I see the hurt that turns my blue eyes to liquid pain. I feel empathy for the woman who stares back at me and it turns cyclical, my being empathetic and sympathetic and upset for the woman in the mirror who is hurting, who hurts more knowing there is no healing. It is a never ending cycle; a circle of pain. In the end, it is reminiscent of a Möbius strip or more likely, an Ouroboros.

Ouroboros: a dragon eating its own tail, a symbol for infinity. Infinity: a term which meant so much more to me two years ago.

I found in my heart love and all that I never thought I could have. That of which I thought I was incapable but was highly, incredibly, and awesomely exultant to discover inside of myself, buried in the depths of my mind and in the darkest recesses of my soul. I found a treasure trove within myself, hit the jackpot in a game I wasn’t even sure I was playing, won the monster prize at the fair which no one ever seems to win.

And now the Ouroboros is simply a symbol of something else. It is akin to the Phoenix, the mythical bird which perishes in fire and rises again from the ashes. But Ouroboros is so much more. Like the Phoenix, the Ouroboros symbolizes the cyclical nature of the Universe, the birth of life from the ashes of death, creation stemming from destruction. But the Ouroboros sustains its life by consuming itself, creating an eternal cycle of renewal. It is the eternal return, cycles that begin anew, self-reflexivity that recreates the being.

I am me but perhaps the current me-which-is-not-me. I am the beginning of the recreation of myself, the Phoenix rising again from the ashes of the fire, the Ouroboros, reflecting and renewing and creating again the me-who-will-become.

I am ready to realign with the multiverse, a universe in which infinite possibilities exist. I want to rise from the ashes and create something spectacular. The Ouroboros and the Phoenix merged together to become one in me. I believe that I can soar above the flames that currently encompass my heart and my mind and my soul. I will believe, with every possible iota of my existence that the reason for this passage is to clarify that I can become something greater than that which I had always believed.

And someday, someday soon, I will no longer see the haunted eyes that keep me from my reflection.

I will take the liquid from my eyes, the dirt from my soul, and the clouds from my heart and create the perfect environment to grow something more, something better, something that will make this trial seem like naught but a grain of sand on the beach of my existence.

I will live and I will love because I have learned. I now know that I can love and I will surely love again.


The Physics of Love

I deserve to be treated well.  I should be cherished and loved, treated like a princess and given a tiara adorned with jewels, a measure of the esteem in which I am held.

What I have is a broken tiara, one made of paste; a cheap imitation of that which could be so precious.  The jeweled tiara signifies the fantasy of the child within.  A fantasy achingly wanted by the now-adult; tantalizingly possible yet always just out of reach.  It is the amusement park ride for which there is no time, the cookie jar out of reach on the top of the fridge, the glimpse of the illusive pixie hiding in the woods.

It is the wish for the fairy tale life where the heroine gets to live happily ever after, yet it is not a wish for fantasy without reality.  It is a dream that understands the insanity of wanting happiness always, the ability to recognize that without downs, there can be no ups.  It is a dream that comprehends the physics of life, the physics of love.

I want to feel the ebb and flow of emotions, those both good and bad.  Like the pull of the moon on the water, there is a certain amount of push and pull, up and down, give and take that is necessary, not only to ensure a balance of forces, but to provide that which is needed for life.  The gravity of the moon creates the tides.  The gravity of the earth causes water to run downhill.

physics of lifeWater meanders over the earth, in streams and creeks and rivers.  It cascades down the hills, traipsing its way over rock and earth, forging pathways through the landscape.  The forces of gravity require the water to travel ever downwards, seeking out the basins and valleys and dales, working toward the lowest common denominator.  In its quest for geographic parity, the flow traverses obstacles, sometimes creating rapids, eddies, and holes.  The flow continues, ever downwards, the water becoming aerated with its movements across the earth.

With crashing waves or tidal flow, the water – be it ocean, stream, river, or creek, is now aerated. It now contains the oxygen needed for life.  The movement of water, the ups and downs, is the catalyst for life.

Calm water is dead water.

A calm life is a dead life.  Without experiencing the ups and down of life, without encountering both positive and negative, a life is stagnant, stale, dead.  It is an impossibility to maintain life in the face of unending calm.  It is impossible to live a life of fantasy, where the only emotion, the only existence, is one of happiness.  The physics refute this premise.  I refute this.

Give me the fantasy to which I aspire, but give me the version in which I can believe.  The happily ever after that I desire, with all the inherent ups and downs necessary in order to sustain life.


Here Be Dragons

You are never afraid.fear

I’ve spent my life being afraid.

I’ve been afraid of the dark, afraid of violence, afraid of being hurt.  I’ve suffered the indignities of irrational fears and I’ve suffered with the knowledge and pain of rational ones.  I’ve been afraid of abandonment, afraid of not being loved, afraid of not having the capacity to love.

I’ve stumbled through the oppressive, inky darkness of fear to reach with trembling hands the light of salvation.  I’ve struggled to shine the light of rationality on some fears I have held and have managed to banish some of them to oblivion.  I have even come to embrace the beauty of some of those things I once thought frightening.

I have worked and tried and agonized.  I have challenged myself to challenge myself.  I have attempted to recognize those boundaries that are real and separate them from those boundaries that are not.  I have pushed and I have been pushed back.  I have won and I have lost.

But most of all, I try to try.

I attempt to see the light shining through the darkness of my fears and I am afraid that I am not always successful.  Sometimes, the darkness wins.  Sometimes, the light cannot reach through the murky gutter that is my soul in order to illuminate my life.  Sometimes, I wallow in fear and despair.

I am often afraid.

You, however, are not.

You do not fear the unknown or the demons of your past or the things that go ‘BUMP’ in the night.  You do not worry about the extent of your abilities or if tomorrow will come.  You are not afraid each time your lover steps through the door and how it may be the last.  You have no apprehension about whether you are good enough, strong enough, or smart enough.  You coast through life believing in no evil, no ill, no moments of uncontrolled catastrophe.  You have no dread about the bend in the river, the fork in the road, the path left unchosen.  You do not worry, or agonize, or fear.

I am oxymoronic enough to say that I fear for you and your lack of fear.  It is both a blessing and a curse.  You are eminently assured, emotionally unbound, fearlessly unfettered.  You have no fear, you have no worries, you have, perhaps, nothing to overcome.

I fight to maintain calm, I overcome obstacles at every turn, and I believe that my ability to conquer fear makes me stronger and more able.  In the moments of my fear, I am envious of your lack; but in the calm moments of reflection, I believe that perhaps my fears grant me the ability to see and do and be and feel things that you will never understand.

While I fight the darkness and look for the light, I will attempt to not be envious of your lack of fear.  I will attempt to remember that not everything that glitters is gold.

Sláinte

fear


A Pacifist in Battle

It has become a battle of wills and money and attitudes and winning.  As with any battle, in the end there will be no winners, only varying degrees of hurt.  There is no conceivable reason behind the change in status quo, there is only conjecture.  It is conjecture to which I do not wish to give credence, ideas with seeming validity, thoughts about the current whys and wherefores of this mess.  I attempt to merely deal with the concrete facts, the steps which need to be taken, the future outcome of any and all decisions which may be made at this juncture.  I examine and reexamine and then examine again my motives and endlessly search for resolutions which serve the greatest good.  I search for the best possibilities for the most important elements, those who happen to also be least able to affect their own outcomes.

I fight not for myself, but for those extraordinary beings which I have brought into this world.  I fight for their now, I fight for their tomorrows, I fight for their future knowledge of what is, what was, what may be and what could have been.ruinscape  I fight until my nails are torn, my fists are bloody and my soul is bruised and battered.  I fight with all the strength I can muster; mentally, physically, emotionally, and financially.  I fight with every resource I have in order to do what is right and good and worthy.  I believe in this quest, I believe in the veracity of my beliefs, I believe that I have a responsibility to do what is right regardless of the personal toll.

Generally speaking, I am simply a pacifist.  I would adore world peace, a green environment, and unlimited shared resources.  I would love for love to rule and for rainbows and sunshine and pixie dust to brighten all days.  I wish for the ability to always see the sparks glinting off the snow, hear the sounds of nature at peace, smell the dewy freshness of a mountain morning.

This is, of course, naught but a pipe dream.

I may wish to be a pacifist, but I am also a realist.  I see and acknowledge issues and problems.  I can accurately extrapolate trending attitudes and performances.  I concede that there is bad and wrong and evil in the world.  I may not like what I see, I may rail against happenings, but I refuse to deny reality for the benefit of my mental happiness.

I shudder at the necessity of having to take negative or punitive actions.  I abhor the feeling that I am causing ill to another.  But I vow to not let my distaste for these actions keep me from doing that which may bring about the security and well-being of others.  And if harmony is unattainable, perhaps someday those with no say, those with the least resources, those whom these actions will affect the most, may someday recognize the effort if not the outcome.  In this match where outcome most likely means more than intent, knowledge may be nothing but a hollow consolation prize.  Regardless, I will continue to do what should be done in order to achieve the best possible outcome for those who cannot fight for themselves.

I believe.  I give.  I cry.  I love.

What more can I do?

 


Outside the box

Caught in a maelstrom.

Unarmed in the midst of a firestorm.  I’ve no ammo, no shelter, no weaponry.  Surviving on wits alone, calculating the odds of remaining unscathed.  But there is no unscathed.  Already the impact of it all has left its mark, rendered some of my best assets defunct.

The path before me is blurry from the smoke of a thousand shots, a hundred bombs, the haze of death and dying.  Future prospects lie before me, mocking with their epic possibilities.  A wrong move now will affect not only my existence but the lives of those around me.

Leave no man behind.  This edict runs incessantly through my mind.  Protect the poor, the weak, and those in need.  Leave no man behind.  Sacrifice yourself, or parts of yourself, for others in need.  Do not assign limitations to saving a life.

Help, serve, heal, protect.  Maintain honor.  Give, do, be, fight.  Figure it out.  Conquer the maze.  Think outside the box to reach the outside of the box.  Save them.  Save them all.

There must be a way.  There must.

Failure is not an option.

graves


Robot Butterfly

And then there was … not me.

A huge portion of my today was spent in thought and reflection.  My life has been off-kilter lately and because of that I have been emotionally off balance.  So many things that I cannot fix, so many things that just are, so many things I feel I have lost and I have been running on auto-pilot.

Or maybe I have simply been running.

I don’t know what I can do to make life return to normal.  I don’t know how to break through my fog in a rational manner.  It’s feast or famine, a seesaw swing between an emotional void and sharp, raw, cutting emotions.

I think I’m managing well, letting what I believe to be positive emotions creep back into my world.  Then I wake up and realize I’m simply jumping off the high dive without even knowing if there is water in the pool.

I feel the neglect of not dancing and from not being able to touch base with those friends so far away.  I long to get into our particular brand of trouble.  I miss silly things like talking to people, having a steady paycheck, turning clouds into rainbows, and making jokes about Tennessee, sox, and tiaras.

Perhaps I am a pod person, looking the same but acting irrationally. Perhaps I should remain quiet; eyes open, mouth shut, and coast for a bit.  I should not do, or feel, or act now.  I should stop being fatalistic and I should keep my hands off my wallet.   I should decline alcohol, stay away from sugar, sleep from being tired and not from a script.

I will remake myself into a butterfly.  I will surround myself with my chrysalis until I can emerge as that which I want to be.  I wish to stop hurting, I want the confusion and pain and sorrow to end.  My new form will be functional, hopefully beautiful, yet will reject those things which serve only to cause pain.  I will be a robot.  I will become a robot butterfly and learn to soar with iron wings under the blue skies of life.

metal butterfly