Life

Unexpected Places: A Eulogy

rumi set your life on fire

I thought her beautiful

at any age…

Time seemed to have

no power over

how she

presented herself

to the world…

She made me laugh

every damn time

I saw her, and lifted

me when I was

sure nothing could…

I don’t understand

how she could

be gone

when she never

grew old…

Never got stuck

in any one way of thinking,

always open

to the next great

possibility…

She was honest

when it wasn’t “cool”

and transparent

when no one

wanted to

see…

There was something

about her that

drew you

close,

held you tight

and made you welcome…

She knew the latest

songs and slang

and laughed

uproariously at how

it blew my mind…

She loved

at times when

I thought she

shouldn’t, and the pieces

of life that she

leapt out to have

for herself

that made me

question her sanity

were the times

she treasured most

in her heart.

I can only hope

that she will live on

not just in our hearts,

but in our ways

of thinking and seeing

the world,

the choices we make

for our lives,

and the courage

we call out

of ourselves

to love and live

in unexpected

places.

A Magical Life vs Reality: The Non-Arguement

It seems to me that the people who least believe in magic, are the ones who most want it to be real. Somewhere inside them is a little flame that holds onto the hope that there really are miracles happening in the mundane, that all of us really do have magic in us, that we do have the supernatural power to change the course of our lives and create our own worlds. We breathe air we can’t see, feel love we don’t see, hold dreams within us that are not yet seen, and still we doubt?

Those scientific, physics-minded secret-holders of the light don’t understand that physics and magic are one and the same.

Physics: knowledge of nature, the natural science that involves the study of matter and its motion through space and time, along with related concepts such as energy and force.

I believe in magic. I believe I make it. I believe I can create whatever I want for myself. Not by sitting around in a pink tutu, hugging a teddy bear with my eyes closed, wishing for things to appear. Physics, science, cause and effect, whatever you want to insert here, is my magic wand. Physics teaches us of particles that don’t exist except as probabilities.

And the mind, my love, is a formidable force for magic.

Magic (noun): the power of apparently influencing the course of events by using mysterious or supernatural forces.

So apparently my dream of a more beautiful, expansive life, at this time doesn’t exist except as a probability, a possibility. I will use my dream to influence the course of events to move through space and time with such energy and force as to bring them to fruition. That’s physics, and magic.

Magic (adjective): used in magic, or working by magic; having or apparently having supernatural powers. Wonderful;exciting.

So I bring my force and movement and energy into my daily life to create circumstances that are opportunities to create more magic for myself, more wonder, more excitement.

Magic (verb): to move, change, or create by or as if by magic.

What do I need to say here aside from pointing out that someone focused on bringing a dream to fruition may appear to go beyond the realms of possibility. It could appear to be magic. The things they create for themselves began as dreams so tiny and fragile that the reality seems larger than life. The tools they applied to bring these dreams into being are many and varied.

But all are merely tools bending to the power of the magic of the human heart.

Let me be clear to the nay-sayers of magic. The supporters of physics. I agree with you both. I cannot wish for something to be so, and it appear before me like a wish granted by a genie. Yet. But I wield every single law of physics as a weapon of mass construction. They are merely the tools for my magic. The support system of my dreams and desires. They are simply the ingredients I need to mix with what is inside of me to make what I want become real.

There is dark and light in everything.

Our days, our dreams, our hearts, our magic. Even our tool of physics has its light and dark application and result. There is a purpose for them both. The physics and magic, the light and the dark, the dream and the loss. We cannot have one thing without the other. We cannot have magic without the science of physics, and who can study physics without seeing the magic? They are each a phenomenon.

So to those of you who scoff and curl your lip at those of us who live and believe in magic…those who seek us out to alleviate the darkness and the harsh edges…we say this to you…

You’re welcome.

Lessons In Living (From a Dead Woman)

Sometimes the death of who you are is not dramatic. There is no impact of twisting metal, or fist to your flesh. It may not be a heroic effort gone wrong, or a fistful of pills. It may not be due to an unforgivable drive by shooting, a robbery gone wrong or a slash too deep in your wrists. Sometimes you just watch yourself die; bloodlessly, silently, without a single tear.

And yet you’re still breathing.

You didn’t fight the quicksand as it sucked you down in the fine and infinite grains of sand-made of becoming less-one moment at a time. You let it swallow you as a frog lets itself boil to death degree by numbing degree, unaware of it’s impending demise until it’s too late to hop to freedom.

And you’re still boiling.

You lie with your life, with your words, with your smile, as your soul rests at the very bottom of that pit of quicksand. The dreams you had, along with any genuine laughter are lying right there with you, waiting to rot by your side. You fight the feelings of anger that flare with any false thoughts of freedom or happiness that try to stick to you as they pass by.

And you’re raging still.

You went silently into that good night. You didn’t realize you needed to fight, or set boundaries, or keep balance, or let your voice be heard. You just kept looking good, and sounding good, and making good impressions, and doing good for others, without giving a good goddamn shit that you were suffocating in the pretense you didn’t know to call out by name.

And you’re suffocating still.

This is the moment. This has the future of who you are NOT-hanging in the balance. You are lying, paralyzed, at the bottom of this pit of despair, and you have the power to rise. But to do so, you have to give a damn. You have to be willing to sit up, get to your feet, raise your hands high, spit the sand out of your mouth and say “No. More.”.

You have to fucking mean it.

Go ahead and practice once or twice before you give the Rebel Yell. Before the world hears the Howl of the Wolf that has been hibernating inside of you for WAY TOO LONG.

You give yourself to Life the same way you died. You walk away from that relationship you walked into, you reject the job you deemed acceptable back in the day, you do what your heart says instead of the dumb ass unacceptable shit you thought you were “supposed to do”. You learn to Tango, to speak Italian as well as your mind. You listen to your feelings as you would listen to a beloved child.

You listen. You act. You live.

And you show others the Way.

The Last Interview of Prince Charming-Finding Mr. Right

She stood as he did, and they faced each other across the interview table. She offered her hand politely, and as Princes are wont to do, he lifted it to his lips and brushed them across her knuckles, smiling quite charmingly before he took his leave. She huffed a dejected sigh and sat back down on her throne. It suited her perfectly. When she had taken her place as Queen, she had, after all, built it herself with her own blood, bone, heartbreak, and indomitable will. Every time she came here, and took her place, her power replenished itself with the reminders of each victory, every triumph, every goddamn time she stood back up when knocked to the ground in battle.

Although she knew she could withstand any uprising, and the power over her world was in her hands alone, she still searched for the One who would be King. She interviewed endless Princes from various kingdoms, but they all ended with her standing and offering her hand, their charming smile, and a mix of dejection and relief when they left the Throne Room. It was really getting to be too much of a bother, and there was plenty in life she could experience and enjoy if she decided to just let the search die off here.

She knew that many thought her efforts foolish, that she was wasting her time better spent doing normal kingdom things. She heard the whispers as she passed by of those who had not yet found their soul; the ones who said she asked too much, dreamed too big, burned too brightly. She heard them, and she laughed to herself, because absolutely NEVER would she minimize herself to another’s standards again. Never. Again.

She slumped a little on her throne of bones and heartbreak and tapped a finger against her lips as she pondered her Queenly list of Kingly requirements. She wanted a King who was a man first. A warrior, a poet, a lover, a wolf. She wanted him to be her kingdom, her fortress, her laughter, her light. He would be willing to stand in front of her and protect her with his life, with the greater courage of living for her each day. In return, she would give him all of this and more.

She could almost imagine the look of him, the strength, the feel and sound of him. Sometimes she missed this King; this man she’d yet to see. Sometimes she thought she felt him out there, breathing, fighting, waiting, searching for her just as she searched for him. Then again, maybe she’d taken one too many cracks upside the head from the sword of Life, who can say?

She remained lost in her thoughts until the sound of heavy boots striding towards her caught her attention. She turned her head to watch the man who strode across the room to stop directly in front of her, his head lifting slightly to acknowledge her, instead of bowing.

Complete and utter joy rendered her immobile. She saw the armor of a Lion Hearted man, a strong face, his eyes burning with the determination that only comes when you’ve learned to rescue yourself. There was no doubt, she recognized the look that she saw in the mirror every day. Everything in her came to life as never before and she was electrified by the magic arcing between them in the silence.

His lips curled in a half-smile as he extended his hand to her and left it there, letting her decide her future.

She stood to face him, eyes locked, and put her hand in his, along with her heart. Then they smiled at each other in recognition of all the other times they had found each other and loved.

Victorious.

You Can’t Handle The Truth aka Kiss My Ass

Drop the masks for just a minute. Quit pretending to be socially acceptable, to blend in, to accept the inevitable, to not be mad as hell that this is all there is. Because it’s not.

I’ve spent a lot of time today, between working and losing my marbles, thinking of how ridiculously difficult we make our lives. Complicated, yes, life is wonderfully complicated. We, however, make it RIDICULOUSLY difficult. Because we think we’re supposed to?? I’m not sure exactly where that plan comes from, but it is seriously bullshit.

It is an honor to be alive, a gift, a treasure. The way some of us tolerate misery in our lives is what I imagine being gut-shot in an old western movie, and being left to die slow-must feel like. Or maybe cutting off our own arm with the dull edge of a butter knife. Good grief and we perpetuate this way of living like it’s a religion.

Give me a break. Guess what? It’s not okay for somebody to treat you like the uni-bomber, or some lower form of life, or in any way at all less than themselves. It’s not okay for anyone to demand an explanation for who you are when they haven’t invested any time in getting to know you. You do not have to defend the truths you believe, or explain your desire for knowledge to anyone else’s satisfaction but your own. You do not have to allow anyone to label you according to their own limited judgement, let those hideous things fall right off and move on.

Unless you are caring for a beloved child (which is an entirely different blog for later), stop the madness. You don’t have to run yourself to death taking care of anyone else. Like the stewardess (excuse me flight attendant) says~please put the mask on yourself first, so you can have the ability to then assist others. For God’s sake.

Ladies and Gents, you cannot possibly give anyone the best you have when you think you are not worthy of respect. When you don’t have self-respect. When your standards are not high enough to pick yourself up out of the shit others lay on you, you cannot elevate others to a new level of life. To be able to reach your hand down and help someone else up~you’ve got to be standing up by your own power to begin with!

I am appalled at my own acceptance of less. I am offended by my own lack of spine when it comes to treatment I obviously deem acceptable. I am so ready to kick someone’s ass when they treat a friend poorly, yet I swallow insulting and mean-spirited words and behavior…what? because I think I must?? Oh. Hell No.

I have seen emotional manipulation at its worst. I have experienced truth being turned into a farce of perception that is worthy of a reality show. I have felt intimidation at it’s highest levels. I’m done.

The people who refuse to “sugar coat” the truth are asking for license to act like ass-hats, and talk to you like a mongrel dog. It is more than possible to speak the truth to someone with a grace that leaves them with their human dignity intact. It is possible to share your needs and hurts and confusion without shredding the self-esteem of another.

Unless, of course, that is your intention. Then, as I stated clearly in the last paragraph~you are an ass-hat, and need to be schooled in the art of being human.

And for the moment…that’s all I have to say about that.

I Know What Love Is…

This morning, as I was doing the Open Heart Meditation, I had my hands open receptively and was breathing in…out…in…out…and I felt a furry nose land in one hand and a crazy licking dog in the other…and I thought with a smile~ahhh, there’s love right there…my two goldens giving love to momma.

The amazing back story to this is that a few months ago, when I first started meditating, it SO pissed me off to hear a bothersome sound or be “interrupted” by my dogs. I mean, I’m trying to MEDITATE right? HOW ANNOYING!! lol.

Sounds ridiculous doesn’t it? Like many “going to church” Sundays when parents are yelling for kids to move along, or get ready, or get in the car, or whatever. Who we really are at the moment gets in the way of who we are trying to be. The interesting part of that is~we don’t have to try so hard. All we have to do is relax and let go.

I’ve had a VERY trying couple of days. There were a few times I was looking the old me right in the eyeballs, telling myself mentally to STAND DOWN. There is value, reason, facts and righteousness in that part of me, but no peace. No true north. No lay my head down and feel good about my behavior at night.

When I first started this journey, I PRETENDED to not be angry. Ha!! Ever tried that? It is stroke inducing, I can vouch for that. I looked very successful at what I was trying to do, but on the inside…I was a volcano waiting to erupt at any moment, or maybe an old building ready to implode on itself.

Now is better. Even on my bad days. Even when I see it coming on the horizon, I know it’s not worth it. It doesn’t keep me from feeling the strain, but my decision is made ahead of time, and my reactions~those I can live with as I go along the road I’m travelling now. No pretending. Just me and the real deal.

I know what love is. It’s not pretending and saying I love you while actions say get the hell out of my way. It’s feeling a furry nose in one hand, and a licking dog in the other, and smiling to yourself because “Ahhhh, here’s what love is, right here”. It’s actually BEING the spouse, partner, companion, friend. Actually pulling your weight, and giving support, and being the love someone needs instead of letting them carry your ass too many times. Let’s be who we say we are~no more pretending for the public.

I know what love is. It’s not the words, it’s the living of them.

Silent Rage vs. Meditation

I am uplifted, absolutely lit up, with the symbolism of the violin in my guided meditation this morning. That the ability to create something beautiful requires “a balance between flexibility and measured tension, like the strings of a violin. If they are strung too tightly~they snap, but when the tuning is balanced, the violin can endure massive force, and produce the most powerful, and tender music. “.

This is an exquisite portrayal of the changes I feel inside since I’ve begun a committed practice of meditation. I was more frequently than not on the verge of snapping. Internally, within both heart and mind, and externally in reaction to people or situations. I didn’t realize how miserable I was in letting my thoughts and behavior be directed by circumstance. I didn’t admit to myself that my ego was running me, that I allowed the moods of those around me to determine my own. I had become so high-strung that I could not help but notice it in myself. My internal anger at everything was growing faster than my ability to restrain my volatility.

I am so grateful for the relief, the quietness, the peace of mind that I have experienced since beginning this morning meditation practice. I have a sense of ease, acceptance, joy, and am even excited when I wake up knowing that I am changing from the inside out. Instead of a vision of endless monotony, I feel a sense of adventure in finding the guts to do something everyday to step toward my goal of writing for a living~no matter how small my effort.

I have no idea how I tricked myself into conforming to the status quo, to minimizing myself and my dreams into hobbies I didn’t have time to pursue. I don’t know when or how I became so angry, resentful, and cold. I only know it was a god-awful feeling, and I am not going back there. Ever.

I will take care to respect myself and my gifts. I’ll become more flexible in my heart and in my thinking. I will honor differences between myself and others~in fact, I will celebrate them! I will encourage others, “give heart to” those who dare to do what they love, and I will encourage myself.

As I say every morning after meditation, I will honor the light in me, and recognize and honor the light in others, understanding it is the same Divine Light in all of us.

Life is awesome.

Mommie Dearest

The one thing I have always been sure of, beyond any doubt, is that I would be a wonderful mother. I knew I would do everything in my power to give my son unconditional love, trust, faith in his ability to find his way, support in his dreams, belief in his ability to achieve whatever his goal, and a safe place to rest his heart. Always.

While I believe I did the very best I knew how, with the knowledge I had at any given moment, I have come to that moment when I’ve learned too much. I know what I could have been, and done, and shared, with more heart and wisdom. It is a humbling place, and it could be a heart-breaking place if I let it.

I would have given more support to who he was becoming instead of who we, as parents, thought he should be. I would have honored his spine more and worked to protect him less from those who had different ideas of who he should “become”. I would have gone to Wal-mart and picked up a spine for myself, adding mine to the strength growing in his. I would have encouraged the lean towards guitar, and art, and skiing, and a mohawk. I probably couldn’t have stopped trying to dress him in color, but I digress, that is just me.

I have discovered an interest in a class called “Parenting By Design”, a 4 week tele-seminar being taught by Elena Brower on behalf of the Handel Group. I have thus far stopped myself from signing up because my son is an adult now, fairly recently out of the USMC after a short trip to Afghanistan. But I am still a parent, a mother, striving to be an example of how to communicate, solve relationship issues, love unconditionally, forgive the same way, accept each person as they are without the pressure of expectations from others. To diffuse my rage and anger at the world for his disappointment and disillusionment. To stop myself from the horrible pressure of fixing what I “see” is wrong for him, because IT IS NOT MINE TO FIX. And it may just not be wrong at all for him at this time in his growth.

I thought I only wanted him to be happy. But I’m starting to realize that I want HIM to want to be happy, to find that within him, to seek peace for himself. I am beginning to understand that he will not get what he deserves in life until he thinks he deserves it, and that for me to want him to be happy for my sake is very selfish indeed, not to mention impossible.

So I am sitting here tonight, thinking that since I am still his parent, his Momma, what does that mean for me now? Do I still want to be an example of what unconditional love looks like? Yes. Should I be an example of respectful communication, and honoring boundaries? Yes. Should I embody forgiveness as a strength and freedom? Yes. Am I capable of showing him that joy comes from within? I’m working on that.

I’m leaning towards a helping hand from Elena’s seminar so that I can grow up to be a really awesome Momma, a person capable of changing a heritage of guilt and obligation to a legacy of love and growth. I’m leaning so far, I’m about to fall over. And I REFUSE to believe it is ever to late to change the legacy I pass on to the next generation. Starting with one, no matter how old he is.

The Dignity of Every Human Life

I stopped in to get some coffee and a few other really important things at the local quickie mart today, and walked into the tail end of a situation that perplexed me. The cashier was in a quiet conversation with a man at the counter, and from their demeanor it seemed to be of some consequence. I checked my lotto tickets, and to my great surprise I hadn’t won a damn thing so I moved on to the coffee, which was a sure thing, and indeed much more important.

The quiet conversation ended and the man stepped outside where an older man in worn camo and a scruffy kind of beard approached him; they talked for less than a minute and went on their separate ways. I watched the bearded guy as he walked past the windows and I asked the cashier what was wrong with him. She said quite firmly that nothing was wrong with HIM, but the quiet guy had a problem deciding whether or not to part with fifty cents for a bag of peanuts for the other guy, who was obviously down on his luck and was hungry. I thanked her and stepped outside feeling really sad about it, and as I got to my car I start looking around to see if I could still see him. Nope, nowhere in sight.

I hopped in my car because I all of a sudden couldn’t bear not to give him some cash from the ATM I’d just stuck in my wallet, just so I could maybe erase the feeling he must’ve gotten from that encounter. I drove between the quick mart, the restaurants, and the motels, trying to see where he’d tucked himself but he was nowhere.

I even checked out the intersections where some people will stand to try to get help, but no sign of him there either. Sad, sad, sad. It made me glad I’d given my last dollar bill the day before to the old guy at the intersection. I almost didn’t because I was embarrassed that I only had one dollar on me! How weird is that?? But I did catch that ignorant thought and rolled down my window and apologized for only having that to give at the moment. He was so grateful, and I was glad I’d overcome my ego thinking and gave him what I had at least.

I recall two stories in my life in this area that truly struck me as amazing and made me long for the better world we all should be working towards. One was in the bible, when “All the believers were together and had everything in common. Selling their possessions and goods, the gave to anyone as he had need. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts”. The other was from the book The Host where the “souls” that had taken over the human bodies simply did their daily business together and charged nothing, it was a worldwide exchange system I guess where everyone did what we do in our daily work, but charged nothing because they could also get what they needed where ever they went. One huge network of giving and receiving. Wow. It blows my mind!

So I guess, since I don’t live in that world right now, I just want to do whatever I can to lessen the impact on the dignity of the individual going through hard times. If I have something to share I will, with a glad and sincere heart. I know what it’s like to be without. To not have enough money to not go hungry that day, to not have a car and have to walk to work, to thank God for the people in my life at that time who loved on me and left me with dignity because they didn’t make it “charity” and I didn’t have to accept it as such. But I was so grateful, and to see someone’s actions or attitudes diminish someone’s spirit for even a second just hurts my heart. I pray I will never do that to another. I pray my heart will always be open to give…even if it’s the last dollar bill left in my purse. We must take care of the parts of us that are out there broken and alone. Just the ones in front of us. If each of us help the one in front of us won’t we then cure the world of this? We can at least try.

The Truth

I think that I might be an angel in disguise

A quick-change artist mingling with the unaware

So convincing, even I don’t recognize

The truth beneath the many scars I bear.

I’ve worn them proudly, thinking I’ve survived it all

Reality is “victim” stamped upon my brow;

Sometimes they can look the same, too close to call,

But I know, and the truth is what I offer now.

I think I might be strong beneath the weak facade,

In truth I could be other than I am

If I had chosen other than the path I trod,

If I had chosen once to give a damn.

I think I might be beautiful beneath the wreck

That I have built so carelessly around my soul.

My choices, hanging heavy now around my neck

Will be the catalysts that make me whole.

I think I am a woman of integrity,

Although it took the longest road to get me here.

I am not the coward that I used to be~

The most courageous hearts are born from fear.

~Shelly~