Tag Archives: life

Celebrate

May your eyes see the infinite beauty of the heavens which surround the mundane, and may your ears hear the exquisite sounds of the angels as they sing. May your tongue taste the nectar of the gods in the unending banquet set before you, and may your skin feel the gossamer touch of a lover’s breath.

May your life be a treasure trove of individual minutes instead of a rushed frenzy through the hours and the days. May you savor the joy of each small wonder instead of always searching for some ultimate prize. May you learn to love and love to learn.

Every minute and each breath is a gift of light to embrace, a moment in time to either squander or value. Each gaze of your eye and every touch of your hand is a singular joy to relish and honor, to believe in and experience. May you choose to do so with all the love in your heart, second by second and moment by moment.  Live not for today but in today, finding peace and joy from each small miracle set before you.

Boat in raindrop

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


Nirvana

Nirvana: a place or state characterized by freedom from or oblivion to pain, worry, and the external world.

 Nirvana
Nirvana. Without consciously thinking so, I guess I’ve been searching for nirvana. I think most of us are searching. And the reality is that my own personal nirvana is different from everyone else’s. What I believe to be the perfect place or lack from worry or pain is vastly different from my best friend’s, or my cousin’s, or the guys with whom I play poker, or the retired gentleman with whom I sit, or yours.

We may share many traits and thoughts and ideals but we have each lived our own unique lives, have our own histories, formed our own opinions and morals and believe our own thoughts. We are each on a different path or at different points along similar paths. What I believe is not necessarily what you believe. What I think is true and right and good you might possibly look at and wonder how I could ever think that.

Obviously, I hope not. I hope we have some shared foundation upon which we can build. I believe in truth. I believe in taking care of people. I believe in doing the best you can with the resources you enjoy.

I’ve learned a lot in the last couple of years and I hope that I continue to learn and grow even more. I feel that I have grown as a person, as a friend, and as a lover. I have navigated situations which I would have sworn up, down, and sideways that could never, would never, unequivocally should never, ever happen to me. No, definitely not to me. Life has a way of surprising one, though, doesn’t it?

I attempt to navigate this life and do the best I can for me while maintaining moral integrity. I try to help others and do what I can to make world a better place, if not for everybody, then at least for those with whom I come into contact. I know the world is awful. I know that there is so much pain and suffering and hurt and confusion out there. I wish I could wave my magic wand and make it all go away so each of us could achieve our own personal nirvana.

And at the end of the day, I guess that is part of my own nirvana – the absence of pain and suffering, hurt and confusion, angst and worry, not just for myself but for everyone – be it him, or her, or you.

Do as ye will, an it harm none.

You are loved.


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.


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


Sleepless Eyes, Waking Sky

The eastern sky is bright lemon, fading to citrine as illumination melds with blue sky.  Above me the sky remains cloud-free, the blue deepening ever so slightly as my eyes track to the west.  The blue never darkens to navy, night already having left this little corner of world, stars and moon and the deep jewels of evening gone, hopefully to carry sleep to someone who may be so blessed.  The clearness of the sky is humbling, the colors a testament to life, to beauty, and to the beginning of another day.

My tired eyes follow the graduations of dawning colors.  The sun, hidden yet by the mountain, casts the warm, comforting glow of an enormous incandescent lamp before it mellows out to a tropical lime.  The hue is an exact replica of a luscious key-lime pie, making my mouth water and my fingers itch for a fork.  The lime, a temporary product of yellow sun meeting blue sky, eventually fades revealing an expanse of blue so vast I drown in the sky.   It begins with the light shade of shallow water on a calm, sunny sea and gradually builds itself into a happy cornflower blue.  It continues west with the middling blue of a late-century Ford and deepens until it becomes the mysterious depths from a lover’s eyes.  I follow the sea of blue from east to west until my eyes encounter the fading aftermath of the perpetual war between night and day.

As I catch the last glimpse of salmon and pink and faded rose, my mind is filled with wonder.  I am amazed by the determination of the dark, the fight to keep a toehold on this space above me.  The fading colors tint the few clouds from behind, illuminating them with lilac, purple and smoke.

The air has warmed just enough to lift the fog but not burn it away.  The mist hovers above ground, filling in the depressions of the landscape, caught halfway between the grass and the treetops.  The sight is almost surreal as the pale, wispy tendrils highlight the fact that fall has just arrived.  The grass is still sparkling green, an emerald sea below the rolling waves of mist.  The smoky, shadowy white rides high on a lush field of life, settling into the nooks and crannies of the mountainous terrain.

Above the mist, peeking out like a mischievous child exploring from behind a ledge, a riot of color – fall foliage at its peak.  The countless reds and oranges and shades of browns are a cacophony of color, a laughing, beautiful, mocking reminder that life’s end is imminent.

I applaud the riot of color while I silently contemplate the impermanence of life.  I reflect on my fortunes and smile into the sun while I once again vow to cherish each moment until I have no more.

IMG_3540


Spring algebra

photo by Dee MuellerIt is Spring, the time of year when life begins to renew, when the warmth of the sun begins to thaw the ground.  It is a time of loving, a time of rejoicing.  It is a time to revel in the beginnings of life and all the myriad joys it may contain.

It is the best of times.  But as clichéd as it may be, it is the worst of times.

It is a time not only of renewal but of reevaluation.  It is a time of taking stock in oneself and one’s surroundings.  The time is at hand to lower the blinders from the eyes and see with a fresh perspective.

We cannot expect different results from utilizing the same methods.  Generally speaking, if a + b = c, then a + b = c.  We cannot expect that suddenly, a + b will result in a sum of d, merely because we wish it to be so.

All the wishing in the world will not result in a different meaning or dissimilar outcome.  If we want change, we have to work for change.  If we are unhappy, we have to work to be happy.  If we are lost and sad and alone, we have to strive to find ourselves, to make ourselves happier, to reach out to others so we are no longer alone.

We should not expect to maintain the status quo, merely because it is simpler, easier, less work, and less time consuming, and then complain that things are not optimal.  We should find out what we believe in and learn to fight for those beliefs.  We should learn what we want and who we want to be and fight for those things with every breath in our bodies.

We should take the cue from the earth and begin to renew and refresh.  The shutters can be opened so the sun can once again shine in and warm our hearths, homes, and souls.  The dirt of the winter past can be eradicated, the cobwebs removed from the corners, the dust bunnies chased from under the beds.

We can rebuild and renew and refresh as readily as our Mother Earth but it is not free, or easy, or instantaneous.

The flowers are stretching towards the sky, looking for the rays of the sun, the drops of rain from the clouds, the pollination from the bees.  The birds are beginning to nest and their mates are incessantly banging their heads against the basement window.  They are fighting for life, for love, for the future.

They are fighting and so should we.  We should not accept the fact that what is and what was should continue to be what should be.  We should decide to live life not only for today, but for tomorrow as well.  We should take our cues from the earth and being to renew and refresh ourselves as we revel in the beauty and newness of this Spring.

We should throw open the windows and invite the sunshine into our lives.  And if, on a day like today, throwing open the sash brings not only sunshine but the bitter cold of the frigid north winds, we should rejoice that we can recognize the one while enduring the other.  We shall renew and we shall persevere, but we shall not be redundantly hard-headed.    Work to refresh, with eyes open to that new perspective needed in order to move forward and be more than we are now.

We should be more than what we are now.  We should embrace our own personal Springs and strive for life and love and sunshine and fight for it all – with tooth and nail; mind, body and soul; and every fiber of our beings.

We shall begin again, with a new dawn, a new day, a new life.

Peace.


Summer of Love

*author’s note* “I am choosing to post this piece I wrote two years ago.  I still believe in this summer of love past and I still believe in love.  I have found new things and new people to love, while not forgetting the old.  I still love you all and you will forever hold a special place in my heart.  I can hope the loves that I have found now remain as precious and as idyllic as I believe them to be.  I know the sentiment is mine alone and not shared but my love is not based on others’ perceptions.  I have found faith and love and hope and lost them.  It can be regained and it can bloom and flower and grow into a new beginning.  I am.  I am me.  I love.  I love you

I hope you enjoy reading (or rereading) this short.  I hope you find love and peace and happiness.  The tiara has to be mine, though  <muah>”

∞∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞

For a short time I enjoyed the ultimate idyllic existence. I was loved and felt loved. I had the most incredible circle of compatriots to ever walk the earth. The sun was shining. Warmth pervaded my every day. Life was good.

Life STILL is good. But my heart will forever ache for what was. Friendships and love so pure, angels would weep in joy. Never again, I feel, will I experience such a heartrendingly beautiful time. I will forever miss what was but I will never regret.

I wish that everyone could somehow experience the feelings and emotions that I felt surrounded me. It felt pure. It felt sweet. I believe it was the most perfectly balanced feeling. It was more than merely friendship, more than merely love. It was everything.

It was the summer of love. It was the fall of love.

It was the fall.

The greatest empires fall. Nothing lasts forever. The most exacting walls crumble. Time stands still for no man and there is no constant but change.

But if I could capture anything, I would capture that time in my life, bottle that feeling and know that I was loved. I was part of something greater than myself. I was a small piece of a gathering of souls with no agendas, no jealousy, no bitterness. I was more than what I am now.

I will be forever grateful for each soul, each member of that time in my life. No matter the differences now, there was then. Time can take away so much, but no one will destroy the wonder of that time.

I choose to embark on a new summer of love. Right now, today, this instant. I will honor those feelings and I will strive to love. I will love without reservation, without harm, without pain. I will begin again.

And yes, I invite you. And you and you and you … and yes, even YOU.

heartshoes


Changing Diapers

I’m looking at my blog and realizing that I have let way too much time go since writing.

Life has demanded attention like a baby with a soiled diaper.  You cannot abuse your responsibilities, you cannot put off the necessary to indulge in the wants, and you cannot neglect the baby.  Life required attention and took over most waking moments.  It need succor and work and took over in the way that life sometimes takes over without thought for the creative spark that can light the darkness and illuminate the soul.

My attention is still focused on the needs rather than the wants and only now has realized parity with my need to write.  So I am writing.  Today I will write, tomorrow I will write and I will squeeze the time into each day to come back to my writing.  It can be argued that writing is a want that can be forever pushed to the bottom of the pile … but that argument will not come from me.

Writing is necessary.  It may not be the biggest necessity but it is a necessity to me, nonetheless.  It has wormed its way to the top of my list and has demanded attention.  It is the current soiled baby and I must attend her while the others lay sleeping and momentarily content.  I hear the others stirring though, and know that my time with this child is short, that I must again attend to others.

I finish attending this adored baby and pick her up to snuggle her for yet a minute more.  I hold her close and bask in the warmth of being together; knowing our time together is, as always, too short.

I will return soon, dear one.  Sleep well.

Taking care of baby


Balm of Life

Life is a series of diverse happenstances.  Our time is filled with happiness, horror, monotony, pain, sadness, and all things in between – incidents ranging from lackluster, tedious moments to brilliant sparks of clarity and intense emotional outpourings.

Allow the wonderful times to flourish in thought and action and become gifts that give of themselves in perpetuity; memory to support, cheer and honor your life.  We can take these moments and hold them safe in our minds and our hearts and use them to counteract the negativity of anything tedious, hurtful or unpleasant.

Let us allow the love we feel to pervade our thoughts and drive our actions.  Let us grab the moments of play and beauty and sweetness and hold them dear, never allowing the sparks of ennui or melancholy to capture us and drag us to the depths of dissatisfaction.

Let us live and love and laugh.  And when we find that we cannot be other than downhearted, moody or lachrymose, let us feel and think and know that this too shall pass.  Let us attempt to remember the things we have for which we should be thankful and let us again come back to love and laughter.

Peace, dear reader, I wish you peace.

TDG         I wish you peace <3