Fast-Forward

I reach forward through time

Caress my own face

Trace the worn rivulets

Heart-lines that reveal

The worries, the laughter

The life that I have lived

I tuck the silver hair behind my ear

I run my finger down the

Cords and veins on my hand

Touch the wedding ring

My pride, my true love, my joy

I whisper, “Rest now, my friend.

You did it. You survived.

And then you thrived.

And now, you can let go.”

I feel such love for her

The me I came to be

I come back into my present

Filled with love-swell and peace

And deep knowing

Nothing to fear at the end

Nothing to fear

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Momentos

I’ve been thinking about keepsakes.

Objects carry energy, there’s no doubt about it. About 18 months ago, I began to feel an overwhelming need to surround myself with an environment that reflects who I am today.

I have done a great deal of work on my self the past several years. Deep, difficult, but ultimately gratifying and freeing work. It was time to match my outside to my inside.

All the changing and growing that I consciously conjured for my life that I have been living through the last 14 months was inspired by a desire to let go of certain parts of my past and create space for my present.

First, I began the process by sorting through everything I had in my home. Then, I found myself literally finding a new home for my family. After finding financing and going through the arduous process of buying it, we then began the year-long process of renovating it to reflect our needs, taste and lifestyle.

A part of that process was going through everything we owned, seeing what to keep. Choosing what would live with us in our new home.

Furniture and items have been given away with care and love. I’ve thanked these pieces for all they’ve given to our home, and sent them off with blessings for their new homes with other people.

I thought that all of those parts were the challenging parts. They say that buying a new home, moving, and renovating are some of the biggest stressors in life. We are finally in our new home as of a month ago. Now we are in the phase of settling in. It has been an unexpectedly rough transition. Turns out, all the change I thought I was handling so beautifully really wasn’t the real change part. This is.

A mentor expressed it perfectly. We literally transplanted ourselves into the future we imagined and then have created for ourselves. It is taking time to establish our roots again, each in our own way. It is a delicate thing, this transplantation.

Back to keepsakes.

I really pared it down. Way, way down. Let go of things I never thought I could or would want to. Now that all the boxes are emptied and places found for our things, I am amazed at all the space I have created.

I do not miss the missing things.

My heart’s wish is that they are being enjoyed by just the right person now.

I did keep one thing from our old home. A chair that was my grandmothers, now repainted and reupholstered. It has always brought me such joy. I remember playing in it as a 4 year old!

IMG_0730

As I establish my new roots in the ground of my present, I relish the space that is here with me. I want to fill the space with relationships, creativity, and love.

The new view from my window holds new keepsakes: sunsets and clouds will be my new souvenirs. I think I will thrive in this new land.

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For Laura

I know some incredible women.

It is one of those women’s birthday today.

Some people just blow you away. Laura inspires me daily. She is an artist, a wife, a mother, a sister, a daughter, a friend. A leader. A teacher. An activist. A community contributor. An active citizen.

She lost her 20 year old brother to suicide in 2000. Rather than fall into despair, she has used her grief to create, educate, help and heal.

Read about one of her creations, Arts & Dreams, and the incredible work they do here.

Enjoy her art work here.

Laura reminds me to live creatively, lovingly, with ample doses of self-forgiveness.

I am so lucky she was born and that I know her.

She Is
Scarlet lips
Piercing chocolate eyes
Portals who see your soul
Lives in brush strokes
Of love and thoughtful heart
Colors rich with knowing
Midwife of self-love
Earth angel saving
wretched alone-hearts
One mantra at a time

The Curse

I don’t know what I did

But I did something

My heart catches in my throat

Careful

Waiting always

For the other shoe to drop

It always does

Does positive thinking work

When you feel flawed at your core

No

Mantras on top of a knowing

Deeper than deep

That you do not deserve good

Fall flat

Their echoes create a silent tragic opera

I stumble

Tears threaten to fall

The nausea I feel holding this truth almost knocks me over

How do I solve a problem

I do not understand

Point me to the wizard

Let me beg the sorceress

Help me

Break

This

Curse

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For Me

A few years back, a teacher suggested to me the idea that when challenges happen in my life (“challenges” being a woke way of saying when bad shit happens) I ask the question “Why is this happening for me?” rather than “Why is this happening to me?”

That everything that is happening contains lessons that are designed to contribute to some necessary growth that ultimately will contribute to my living my greatest life.

It is a lovely idea. Unless, that is, you are in it. When it is feeling like the Universe is is just out to get you, the idea that things are happening for your highest good can seem, well, ridiculous.

In those moments, I tend to feel like a total victim. In my mind, I am sure that somewhere there are people whose lives are working out just great. That there are people to whom these shitty things do not happen.

I bemoan why these things must happen to me. Does the Universe think so little of me? Am I such a loser that I do not deserve good?

This response to difficult or bad things happening is learned. It comes from a wounding from long ago, at an age when I had no ways to cope. No way of understanding bad things happening other than to assume that it was my fault: that I was in some way not worthy of good.

This wound and the subsequent thinking and feeling habits that developed out of it seem to be getting kicked up again and again lately.

It’s this new apartment and the renovation and new furniture.

(I know, I know. These are luxury problems. It isn’t what they are. It’s what they kick up.)

Without realizing it, somehow, somewhere in my psyche some part of me, the wounded part, has loaded this new home with some kind of meaning that runs way deeper than up leveling to a newer, nicer home.

This new place and new things seem to represent something that is impossible to reach or maintain. Unbeknownst to me, some part of me needs this home to be perfect.

Things keep happening. A strange stain on the new velvet couch that I sweat was not there before. A little work spot on a new leather chair that I also swear was not there before. The furniture is not even in use yet! We’ve had it all covered as we’ve finally moved in.

I would almost believe there’s a sprite or gremlin playing tricks on me.

This all started weeks ago. First the new floor buckled in places. The very well-put-in floor. Then the AC leaked and caused a tiny bit of damage. Then the spot on the velvet couch I mentioned that was not there until it was: it can only be seen at an angle, but still. It was perfect. Now it is marred. Then the marks in the leather chair. How? When? Who?

Each new event sends me into this painful spin of confusion – disbelief, anger, hurt. Why? Why us? Why our new things? Can’t we have one month to enjoy this place before things become marred?

Am I such a loser that I do not deserve nice things?

Then I get enraged. Why do others get happy lives and my one chance at goodness is once again stripped away from me? Can’t I have just one beautiful thing for a moment?

Woah. I know this is all way too loaded for just this situation. I don’t remember ever feeling this way before about any place or thing. And yet here I am and it is deep. Things are being triggered here!

And I know, I know. These are total luxury problems.

I should be grateful for the abundance. And I am. But why are the gifts I get always dented?

It can feel so dark and sad.

I guess it is time to tend to that girl’s wound. The one who first decided that she was unworthy of good.

I see I have someone to get to know.

I breathe and try to trust that I will gain clarity at some point. I try to remember that this is happening for me. That there is an opportunity for me to heal something. I am just so murky and in it right now. I cannot see it. Yet.

But I will.

And I will grow through it, somehow.

And I will gain a new friend, if she’ll have me. The wounded girl.

Ah ha.

There is is…

Just “for me.”

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