Once more, with feeling

I took a break from the blog, seeing as how I had my flood email list which acted as my new blog. Now that the flood drama is past, I find the need to give voice to my emotions and thoughts, even though I have nothing of great merit to say.

My therapist has been great in helping me realize the way in which I process, regroup, and let go. I am an introvert, meaning I process internally, on an often subtle and unconscious level. I may not feel any great urge to discuss most of my thoughts with people, but she has made me see I need to let out all the shadowy forms that linger in my daily experiences.

So, once more I pick up the thread of my thoughts, and this time I truly realize how imperative it is for me to do so. Today, in therapy, we found on old part of me, one that has been with me since birth, quite possibly even before then. That part of me carries a deep sorrow about the world we live in, the choices people make, and the lack of compassion on display. That part of me carries anger at the world, and a rough cynicism that at times makes me want to give up. That part of me is sad, volatile, and none too happy to be here.

But, that part also sees that I am here, and that I can make a difference. So I take on peoples burdens, their energy, their fear and despair, and I try to transform it into something else, or at least let it go. This is something I have done my whole life, only recently have I become aware of it enough to get a handle on it. I feel as if that is my purpose here, that in this world of pain I can help carry some of it for others.

The problem is that I carry it too long, and I get overwhelmed, and exhausted, and want to quit. I dont know how to fully let it go, even if its not mine. I look at the people around me and I just want to take away the sadness and hurt and let them know for one small moment how loved they are by the universe. I want them to see that this is not the true reality, that love exists beyond the games and hunger, that we arent bound by our own limitations. I want this so bad it breaks my heart time and time again.

The journey now, for me, is learning to really cleanse myself of other peoples energies, and then to really look at why I do this. Is it a way to make myself feel I am not a burden to this world? Is it a form of self punishment? Is it my soul trying to make up for the past the only way it knows how? And lastly, am I doing anyone any favors if they can't fully work through their own energy blockages?

I do not think that spirituality is supposed to be a burden, and that being a healer should be so heavy. Really, though, I have no idea. No one claimed the path to enlightenment would be an easy one.

Spotlight

It's been a while since I posted, and as most of you know I have been quite happily putting energy into a new relationship. So far, its amazing, and I will write more on that later. But right now I am finding that as I open myself up more to him, old demons are coming back to haunt me. The spotlight is back on, so to speak, highlighting all my insecurities and fears with a vengeance. I needed to vent, and so, here we go.

I have had four significant relationships. The first one, Bobby, was a ridiculous mess, and we both behaved in quite shameful behavior. But, we had made peace with that, and moved forward as friends, when his death sent a shockwave through me and left me with a sense of guilt. I am still working through that.

Number two was Colin, who I fell quite madly in love with and opened my heart completely to him. It wasn't long in the relationship when he cheated on me, and effectively I learned how to shut down my heart enough so that I wouldn't get hurt like that again.

Number three I met while still with Colin, but it was after we kept breaking up and getting back together, and I think that I was still punishing him for hurting me. I really wish I had the sense then that I do now to recognize my own sabotage, because things may have turned out differently. Well, Brian came along and was fun and new, and I fell into that pretty quickly. But, here's the caveat. I never let him in the way I did with Colin, I always maintained a wall of sorts. I even noticed some red flags with him right away, but I think I wanted that. If I knew he had big faults, then I kept the upper hand, then he could never hurt me too bad. Totally screwed up right? And let me tell you, that plan majorly backfired when he turned out to be a lying mental mess. And I still got hurt.

Number four was Barry, who was a great guy, but was so safe. I never let him in, because I knew he would never understand me. After Brian, I needed safe and he fit the bill, but his lack of making me a priority proved to be too much to handle.

I have been blogging since Barry and I broke up, since I realized that my inner journey to self contentment was my major priority. I have come a long way. But now, with love rising over the horizon, I see all my old fears coming out of the shadows.

My fear of not being important enough to someone. My fear of getting betrayed, of being lied to, cheated on, ignored, etc. It all comes down to the fear that this person that I hold so dearly will not feel the same, that I will somehow be found lacking, like I feel everyone else has found me to be. I won't be good enough for this person, and my heart, which is so tender, so sensitive, will once again go back into hiding.

This is my plea, god. Let me be able to open my heart fully again, to be vulnerable, to trust, and to realize that whomever I choose to do this with next will hold me in high enough regard to treat me gently. And let me choose wisely. Because right now my soul wants to be wide open, but the strong jaws of terror are keeping it locked down tight. And so, the battle begins.

I have just arrived

Another poem to share. This is based on a dream I had about my grandfather, who has alzheimers, and who I love very much.


Patients dream of me in
Other lives, a look here
A touch there,
It lets them know its me.
This isn’t the only place I belong to.

Old man you sit
Rocking chair supporting wrinkled hands,
Blue veins, bones all but breaking
Through your thin skin.
You are counting down the days
And I have just arrived.

Gravel path in the woods,
Hansel once led Gretel to you
But in your madness you brushed
Them off as stories.
Sunlight dips beneath the tree tops
Casting you in a strange orange glow
As if you were burning from within.

Old man
I have just arrived.
One day bleeds into the next.
Always I am arriving,
I am leaving,
And nothing I do will keep you from aging,
From dying.

Rotting wood and peeling paint
Form the backdrop for your
Bloodshot eyes, tired smile,
Creaking joints.
You rock back and forth.
You look me in the eyes.
You hate it when I leave.

I have just arrived
Black scarf covering my head
In this biting wind.
I do not wonder why you don’t
Look up from your lap when I touch you,
Do not wonder at the coldness
Already setting in.

It is early morning
And the birds greet the day.
It is morning in the woods, dead leaves blowing
Past us, scent of decay
In the earth.
I have just arrived,
And you did not wait for me.
Old man I am left
With sorrow black as thunder,
Heavy as the clouds.
Tell the others hello.
Tell them it’s early here,
Its cold,
And that I have just arrived.

It was here

It was here
In this silent morning
This cold kitchen
That I found god

How many nights did I suffer
Alone
How many moments
Did I doubt my reason for being here

I hit the bottom
Softly
No one knew but me
No one saw
How quickly the ground
Collapsed beneath me

I saw
And I felt it
And my anguish
Almost swallowed us all

But last night was different

I stood still
As the sun rose
Stood still
As the sky grew lighter
Stood still
As all my doubts dropped
Like broken glass onto the floor

There comes a moment
So subtle
When we can go no further
When hope is all but gone
When we alone
Afraid
At last surrender

And in this moment
We are transformed


The stillness no longer suffocates
The quiet no longer deafens

But instead we fracture
Into larger pieces of truth
Exploding in all directions

And when we are done expanding
When we have finished sleeping
Within the womb of the universe
We collapse back into
This fragile body
This beating heart

Destiny

I am going through some of my poetry, and decided to start sharing some here. Here is one I like called Destiny.

His robe is not always pulled tight
Across his head
But it always falls straight down to his feet
Where it coils and uncoils like
Snakes that are never content

Eyes like the blackest stars
Gaze across the land
Half closed eyelids that look partly within
Partly without

He moves like waves on a stormy night
Glides likes ravens across the earth
Wingless birds that somehow stay aloft

I say his name
And he answers silently
So silently that I never hear him

But we hear the things he does not say
Respond to his outstretched finger
That points the way home

When we listen he can take a breather
Feel the sunlight hit his bald head
Watch the way the mountains turn orange and pink
In the setting horizon

When we don’t hear
He must put his hood back on
Leave the mountains behind
And point once more to a place
We all fear

We are so bad at listening to his quiet instructions
That it’s been a millennium since he could stand still
And feast on the blistering sunset

In fact
He has had no chance for rest
Since he took this damn job

Led by the Heart

How life changes when the heart is the boss, instead of our head. This is one of the main things I have been striving towards of late, of listening to the heart, of letting it guide me down this subtle path. It's often hard to hear because other things drown it out: fear, worry, anxiety, grief, and daily distractions. In fact sometimes its so quiet I think that its gone and left me.

So how do I know when its speaking? I know I am truly listening to my heart, and not what my head thinks my heart is feeling, when the decisions and the thoughts are pure. By pure, I mean there is no coloring on the edges, no darkening or tearing like there would be in an old photo or a crumbled piece of paper. When the heart speaks, its voice is clear, and pure, and full of compassion. There is no ulterior motive except love, there is no wanting in it except love, there is no gain except giving and receiving love.

I have been trying to listen, and the results are remarkable. It has made dating an entirely new experience to me, and that is probably why I am still single. There is no more need to save someone, no more desire for someone to take care of me, no more selfish motives to get the validation I can now give myself. In fact, I have turned down a few men recently because I knew my reasons to date them were not true. My heart was not enamored, no matter how great they looked on paper.

Funny things start to happen when the heart leads. People you thought would be perfect fade quickly from your sight, and people you never really noticed come crashing through the front door. My reasons for living are different, my motives for being here are stronger, and are less about me.

And when the night grows darker and loneliness lurks in the shadows, I give my heart to the one thing it truly craves, which is communion with god. In the hands of the infinite I learn about love, and trust, and I realize that no one else will ever supply my heart with the grace it gets from that.

So lead the way heart. Lead me into the silent arms of the world, where I can rest my eyes and nurture my soul.

Photography

The big snow hit Nashville, and since this city doesn't seem to have any snowplows, I was more or less snowed in for the entire weekend. It was actually nice to stay home, and spend a long time by myself. Luckily, I like my company.

Even more lucky though, is the fact that I own a camera, and that part of my homework is to get comfortable and familiar with using a tripod and different lighting scenarios. I killed an amazing amount of time playing around with my camera and taking self portraits.

I have often wondered why it is I love photography so much. As long as I can remember few things make me as happy as grabbing my camera and stepping outside my door. It doesn't matter if I am walking the same trail I have walked a thousand times, or if I am somewhere completely new. I still get lost in this magical world where time slows down and the only thing that matters is trying to capture the world in a view I don't normally see it.

Photographers see the world differently. If we go on a drive around the city we notice the shadows that trees cast on the sides of buildings, we notice reflections on skyscrapers, we notice the contrast between everything. In essence, we notice light, and how it changes the way everything looks depending on its quality.

But for me, its also about capturing time. It's about the moments. I love moments, I love the way they arrive unexpectedly, the way they can be so mesmerizing, and then before you know it, they leave again. My whole life I have tried to capture these moments, and then recreate them. That's why I also love writing. I love to put moments down on paper, to try to make them immortal.

Still I know, moments come, and they go. Nothing lasts forever. But looking at a photo, I remember taking the picture, I remember the way the air smelled, the way the wind hit my skin, and I remember the feeling of peace.

Not only do I try capture these perfect moments, but every time I step through my door with my camera in hand, I also create some new moments. If we are anything in this human form, we are a collection of our moments. These frozen snapshots that we hold in our heads, in our hearts, they are what defines us. I suppose I simply want to preserve what I consider to be an extraordinary life to date, I want to cut and paste the times in my life that have shaped me. And I want to surround myself with them, so that everywhere I look I am confronted by the people who have loved me, and the places I have loved.