I sit out back on the concrete steps just outside the french doors. The breeze is blowing, the sun is shining. I breathe in. Colors dance around me, in their springtime playfulness, as the hazy sun shines through the young bright leaves as they sway.
My son and my man have bows in their hands, and they pull them back to their cheeks and let arrows fly into the target on the fence. The woosh of the arrow matches the woosh of the wind, and the thud of the arrow hitting is fast and hard. The boys look at each other and discuss technique, and I sit, taking it all in. A boychild we thought we'd never have, growing tall now, and my husband with his hand on his shoulder guiding him. It's a dance, and the love between them is easy, gentle, beautiful, and strong - all at the same time.
5.31.2010
5.22.2010
wildflowers.
It is early morning and I awaken as I roll over. I love to sleep in on weekends in our big bed, it is so soft and warm and comforting. The fans blow softly around me and the rhythm of my man's breathing calms me and sends me back into a dream-filled sleep…
I am youthful and petite in the way that young women are, wearing a flowy pink slip of a sundress and white flip flops. Freckles spatter across my face from the sunshine. I’m in a field of wildflowers and when the wind blows, the warm sweet scent of them flows through my long blond hair. I look behind me just before he, young and virile with full wavy hair, grabs my waist and pulls me toward him. We laugh. My stomach flutters with the excitement of new love and I turn and reach up and look into his eyes. He smiles at me with a look that makes me want to know him. He draws me in and talks to me through the sparkles in his eyes and nothing more. I can’t resist, so I lick my lips as I look straight at his and kiss him. He loves that I am the one who kissed him first, I can tell by the way he looks at me and the way his body feels against mine. In that moment we are both so alive with the feeling of love for each other and even more, the knowledge that the intensity of that love is returned. We fall down into the soft grass and wildflowers and kiss some more. The wind blows.
The air from the fan slides across the quilt and I roll over and start to float away from my dream and instinctively reach for him as the orange sun peers through the blinds. The covers fall away and the air from the fan sweeps across our bodies. He moves. I look at his face with my sleep-filled eyes and there are wrinkles where there used to be none, but when he opens his soft brown eyes, the look he gives me is still the same. His solid warm body feels the same against my soft one. He puts his hand through my hair and kisses me.
“Do you smell wildflwers?” he asks sleepily.
I am youthful and petite in the way that young women are, wearing a flowy pink slip of a sundress and white flip flops. Freckles spatter across my face from the sunshine. I’m in a field of wildflowers and when the wind blows, the warm sweet scent of them flows through my long blond hair. I look behind me just before he, young and virile with full wavy hair, grabs my waist and pulls me toward him. We laugh. My stomach flutters with the excitement of new love and I turn and reach up and look into his eyes. He smiles at me with a look that makes me want to know him. He draws me in and talks to me through the sparkles in his eyes and nothing more. I can’t resist, so I lick my lips as I look straight at his and kiss him. He loves that I am the one who kissed him first, I can tell by the way he looks at me and the way his body feels against mine. In that moment we are both so alive with the feeling of love for each other and even more, the knowledge that the intensity of that love is returned. We fall down into the soft grass and wildflowers and kiss some more. The wind blows.
The air from the fan slides across the quilt and I roll over and start to float away from my dream and instinctively reach for him as the orange sun peers through the blinds. The covers fall away and the air from the fan sweeps across our bodies. He moves. I look at his face with my sleep-filled eyes and there are wrinkles where there used to be none, but when he opens his soft brown eyes, the look he gives me is still the same. His solid warm body feels the same against my soft one. He puts his hand through my hair and kisses me.
“Do you smell wildflwers?” he asks sleepily.
5.21.2010
anew.
IT'S TIME TO STEP COMPLETELY OUT OF THE BOX. UNLIMITED THINKING.
I love this {thank you, Sierra}. Adventure. Unlimited possibilities. Step in. Swim in something new and exciting. Make each day something exciting! This is how I want to live my life right now, this is what's calling me. I am seeing things around me that are signs, and I know it's all me talking to me. I am ready. So ready!
“Tell me what will you do with your wild and precious life?”
-Mary Oliver
The ancient Essene masters viewed the human body as a convergence point through which the forces of creation join to express the Divine Will. For this reason, they regarded our body as a sacred place; a temple for our soul.
It is within our body-temple that the forces of the cosmos unite as an expression of time, space, spirit and matter. More precisely, it is within the experience of time and space that spirit works through matter to find the fullest expressions honoring life.
The ancient Essene masters viewed the human body as a convergence point through which the forces of creation join to express the Divine Will. For this reason, they regarded our body as a sacred place; a temple for our soul.
It is within our body-temple that the forces of the cosmos unite as an expression of time, space, spirit and matter. More precisely, it is within the experience of time and space that spirit works through matter to find the fullest expressions honoring life.
The Issaiah Effect by Gregg Braden
5.17.2010
write.
everything around me is telling me to write. it is whispered in the winds. i can either take it to heart, soak it up and listen, or ignore it.
i think i will listen.
what does this mean for me? i'm not sure. writing more here again? writing a story? writing poetry, or delving into my handwritten journals more? i'm not sure. but i trust that the answer is there, wrapped neatly in the task.
***
i do know that right now is a time of clearing out for me. sort of like spring cleaning. there are so many wonderous things surrounding me, so many things that fill my soul. and then there are things that don't feel good anymore, that simply don't fit. and so, i lovingly let them go. i give them closure and say goodbye. there is power in goodbye. i feel that so strongly now. it's all a choice. the great gift of this life is free will. i choose what to put my focus on, and in that i give it life.
what is it that i want to give life to?
beauty
love
peace
joy
softness
harmony
song
dance
playfulness
sweetness
gratitude
compassion
understanding
humility
valor
forgiveness
♥
i think i will listen.
what does this mean for me? i'm not sure. writing more here again? writing a story? writing poetry, or delving into my handwritten journals more? i'm not sure. but i trust that the answer is there, wrapped neatly in the task.
***
i do know that right now is a time of clearing out for me. sort of like spring cleaning. there are so many wonderous things surrounding me, so many things that fill my soul. and then there are things that don't feel good anymore, that simply don't fit. and so, i lovingly let them go. i give them closure and say goodbye. there is power in goodbye. i feel that so strongly now. it's all a choice. the great gift of this life is free will. i choose what to put my focus on, and in that i give it life.
what is it that i want to give life to?
beauty
love
peace
joy
softness
harmony
song
dance
playfulness
sweetness
gratitude
compassion
understanding
humility
valor
forgiveness
♥
5.03.2010
a deep trust in life~
The flow. The transition. This moment. The magic it can bring.
What I've been feeling lately and knowing in that space deep inside my heart is that it really is that stillness, the release, that makes a difference in this life. It is the line between control and ease. It is trust in the truest sense of the word.
In the middle of the chaos that surrounds me--the children who need something, the others who are squabbling, the dog chasing the squirrel, the husband coming out of the shower with that look ... and me, just wanting nothing more than to write from my soul--I can be the observer, or I can become a part of it. Each space has a life of its own, and in each moment is a choice.
I know can not control any of it, I only ride along. The wave carries me this way and that, and I cherish those times when my heart takes over and my mind falls away. Everything is surreal then, so beautiful. Perfection.
I can see each thing play out from a place that is high on a mountaintop, and I feel the interplay with my whole being. Peace overcomes, and I allow everyone around me do what is in their souls too from that vantage point, as I release my grip on any of it. On anything and everything. It is liquid. Water, moving on its own, in its own way, and I become as still as I can be. The current owns that space.
Life is just a series of plans. Plans you make that don't come to fruition, or take sharp turns. My life is full to the brim with things I have created. I can choose to look at them with love, because they are mine, or I can kick and scream and try to wrench them into something that they are not, because they are not 'perfect'. Because they're not what I expected or asked for. Because I wanted something different, and my spring vacation didn't go as planned when the money wasn't there yet; or the alone time to write I had hoped for was interrupted by my man or my child or both; or a call with friends didn't happen when the internet was disconnected.
I can question all of this, or I can take the moments as they come, imperfect as they are, and become one with my life the way it is. And in that, I can realize what a gift the flip was: I can love the fluctuation, the movement, the interruption.
That constant flow is alive. It is life force itself. And in the morning light, when the sun comes through the window slats, bringing in a New Day, and the rainbows dance on the wall from the hanging crystals, I open my eyes and whisper Thank You. Still in the dreamy opaque place where intuition and feeling prevails, my soul is stirred. And I get so clearly: Trust life. Let go. Do nothing. Allow.
And inevitably, it always turns out that the plan that didn't go as it was supposed to, becomes a thing of art. When I can slow down the ebb and flow and stop in the moment, not asking for more or think beyond it and become stillness itself, that moment becomes The Magic of Life. Just there in harmony. It is so beautiful my eyes are blinded, but I take a photograph with my heart.
I have found the paradoxes never end in this life. Life is playful and it likes to tell a new story, one you haven't thought of yet. Befriend that.
Trust life. It really is the most beautiful thing.
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