i want to live in a world where…

i want to live in a world…
where i can go barefoot everyday.
where the grass is soft beneath my feet
and the hard Georgia clay sticks to my heels.

where the roar of the ocean is never far away.
where my pulse matches the undulation
of the waves, kissing on the shore.

where the creativity in my soul is expressed
in the labor of my hands and
the sweat of my brow.

where laughter and love and conversation
flow like the water that so often
quenches the fire in my spirit.

where friends are family
and family are friends
and my backdoor is always welcoming loved ones inside.

nascence

the bulb, knowing only the cold earth around it, its envelopment complete, has no knowledge of the sun, or of it’s power. it sits dormant, biding it’s time. only it’s not fully aware that it is biding it’s time.

the sun, radiant in it’s all it’s life affirming glory, gently lords over the whole of the universe. so many worlds under it’s dominion, so many things relying on it for heat and energy and for sustenance… and yet it pays no heed.

at the first warming of the earth, the long silent bulb warms and becomes aware that YES… this…THIS is the moment it wasn’t aware that it had been waiting it’s whole life for. reaching, ever reaching to be closer to the source of such amazing and soul-fulfilling warmth. pushing through the all-enveloping earth, the nascent flower struggles to reach the surface, slowly breaking through the monumental obstacles seeming to keep it from the finding the source of the heat that caused it’s awakening.

the sun continues to sit at the centre of all, seeing all and nothing, simultaneously. as it’s sweeping gaze passes the particular field wherein the tulip resides, there is a small, green protuberance otherwise curious and out of place. each day, it’s gaze passes over the field, seeing ever more evidence of growth of the small flower. each day, it’s gaze is longer transfixed to the spot of ever growing greenery.

petals and leaves finally have the chance to unfurl at the dawning of the sun. as the sun’s rays grace the tender petals and the newborn glory of the flower’s petals grace the sun’s gaze, the mutual feeling is one of a long held breath, exhaled.

how does one put into words what the sun means to the tulip, or what the tulip means to the sun?

Namaste

When I’m here…there’s a crispness to the wind.

It’s cold, and stings as it whips across my face.

Aged and faded lung ta gallop just as fervently through the mind as the freshly offered.

All is well.

May you be filled with loving kindness.
May you be well.
May you be peaceful and at ease.
May you be happy.

Heralding Protean mojo…

It’s been a very long year.

Sisyphean.

Here’s to releasing the boulder…

bravery

sometimes bravery isn’t bravado, or machismo, or feats of Herculean strength.

sometimes bravery is doing what everyone said you can’t, doing what you love no matter the hecklers and naysayers.

leaning into the unknown is brave.

thank you note….

dear mother and father god,

it feels odd writing to you, like i’d write to a friend who lives in a distant city, but i’m trying to view you in that manner.
i’ve taken issue, for some time, with how people do such terrible wrong in your name. so much issue that it’s pushed me away from most of your places of worship.

my most favorite place to commune with your universal spirit is sitting in my bed. i light incense and candles, assume a quasi-good lotus position and then i just breathe. i take measured breaths in and out, and i seek you, in the many different facets in which you enter my life.

how my youngest child laughs so much and so often, reminding me of joy, peace and harmony. and reminding me that no matter how heavy situations feel, there is still joy to be found.

how the next youngest is growing out of her shell daily. she has always been the most introverted of my children, and by giving her room to be herself, and to understand who she is and allowing her to be comfortable in her own skin, reminds me that i have to allow myself that same opportunity.

how my middle child, my youngest son, is so smart, and so easily bored. how video games hone his hand/eye coordination, but i worry that they stunt his social skills. but again he’s just brilliant in my eyes. his quirky and ecentric nature, and makes him so happy when he is present in his element. this reminds me to remain present in hthe myriad of moments that present themselves to me everyday, seeming choices to either be happy, or not.

how my eldest son, so steadfast, surefooted and strong, is firmly rooted in the firmament of the earth. the most steady of my children, yet nearly grown himself, i can always count on him to make me laugh, even when he’s helping me to clean the kitchen or mop the floors. his playful, yet steady spirit, reminds me to laugh, even when there is work to do… and even better, laugh while i’m working.

how my oldest child, my oldest daughter has a gypsy heart (stole a piece of my own, i think she did), and a wild spirit and never says no to anything. never have i seen her let anything get in her way, particularly if it’s something she’s set her mind upon doing. i’m reminded of perseverance and the benefits of struggle, and the joys of a gypsy heart.

from the mister, i’ve learned that anyone can change, and that the change can be real and true and meaningful. that love knows no bounds when it’s soulful.

lately, when things have seemed really hard, it’s as though i’m finding love notes from you scattered throughout my day. a word or a phrase that resonate with thoughts in my head, or worries and concerns that are weighing me down. reminders to allow myself to feel the joy that is in my life, the laughter, the experiences that are woven into the cloth of my day.

so mother/father god, this letter was a small thank you note. thank you for the reminders you give me daily, both directly, through my family, and indirectly, through the cloth that wraps itself around me every day.

Patience, serenity, and an unexpected joy…

For quite a while, I’ve been struggling with finding the needed patience to ‘deal’ with my life.

I’m not making an attempt at the dramatic, as every life has its inherent ups and downs, and we all deal with the occasional emotional roller coaster. However some days, I feel much like Bilbo Baggins when he said, ‘I feel… thin. Sort of stretched, like… butter scraped over too much bread.’ There are aspects of my life that can be more or less managed, (I’m not even going to insinuate that I have anything approaching control), and then there are areas where I feel genuinely out of control, or rather, like there is a vortex of activity spinning around me, affecting me, but I can do nothing to reign it in.

Acknowledging that you can only do so much some times, I sought ought venues to attempt to assuage my stress. One such venue was taking Rachelle Mee_Chapman’s Taking Notice Course, which was an e-course devoted to helping you reconnect with the sometimes smaller items in our day to day that can ground you and bring immense joy. It was a simple and powerful reminder that beauty and simplicity are all around us…. all we have to do is let it in.

In a similar vein, I’m on the mailing list for Susan Piver’s emails in regards to Buddhism and meditation. They oft relate to real-life scenarios and applications for Buddhist practice and mindsets. Her last several posts/emails have been in reference to six paramitas of Buddhism and how to apply them to everyday life. Today’s was particularly interesting as it referenced the possibility of patience, if you change your mindset. This immediately got my attention, as patience is not something I come by easily. Susan writes that patience is always possible, if you have no expectations.

ok… so, for whatever reason, this was a great big Shakabuku for me. No, seriously.

I read that this morning, whilst sitting in traffic, or waiting for my first meeting to start (yes, I forget which… sometimes time runs together for me. In any sense, what I was doing exactly at the moment I read it is immaterial.. what matter is I read it). After reading it, there was a great big shift as things slowly slid into place.

*click*

A dear friend has told me for years that ‘frustrations are a function of expectations’. I wholeheartedly agree with him, however managing those expectations has also been a pain point for me. I have only ever expected of others what I can honestly ask of myself. Distill that and the converse is, I expect the same from you, that I expect from myself.

But after reading this, that patience comes when you have no expectations…there was a an awakened peace. A nudge from Spirit to say, ‘be gentle with yourself and with others.’ There is truly a sense of calm and serenity that I’ve not felt in a long while. I can’t clearly articulate it except to say that things, somehow, make more sense than they did this morning.

The maelstrom of work that is staring at me as I write this post isn’t going anywhere, and is in fact only increasing the longer I give it the evil eye, but I truly feel no stress in it’s regard. The cyclone of activity that is whirling away in my personal sphere is certainly not cleaning itself up anytime soon, but… it feels a smidgen more manageable and a lot less likely to leave me curled up on the kitchen floor in the fetal position.

So appreciative of the human condition, of the ability to clarify my dogma, and for friends who remind me of the necessities of child-like faith and wisdom.

It is.

I am.

All is well.

(somehow, that seems to be enough.)