are actually alternate realities,
waiting to be expressed,
but only when
Mind and Heart
are wide open.
Be today,
come tomorrow,
and the suffering will end.
Unrequited
You are Winter.
I am Spring.
The blizzard
has passed,
but your heart remains frozen
in a time and place
by frigid winds
blowing around
gusts of untruths
that never existed
except in the mountains
of your mind.
All I can do is watch
and wait for you
to pass through
the eye of the storm,
with faith
that new buds
will appear
on the twisted branches
of a deep-rooted tree,
by warm breezes
that melt the ice
and lets you thaw
from the big chill,
for you to fully receive
all the beauty
that life can bring.
You are Winter.
I am Spring.
Somewhere…
Summer awaits.
Part 4
The Resolution…
breaking up with myself
Wordless
As soon as I picked her up from school
I knew something was wrong.
My sweet, loving daughter
who usually greets me with a running hug
was quiet,
forlorn,
eyes downcast.
She waited until we got home
to bare her soul.
She was left out,
excluded
from playing with the group.
It hurts.
I know.
I had a similar day.
“Why do they do that?” she whispers.
I look into her big, beautiful eyes
brimming with tears.
I wish I could tell her
the many reasons,
all of which have nothing to do with her,
but she wouldn’t understand.
I wish I could tell her something reassuring,
like it will stop
when she gets older,
but I don’t
because that’s not true.
Right now, in this moment,
what does she need most from me?
Instinctually, I slide over
to her side of the couch,
scoop her up in my arms
and hug her tightly,
tears streaming down my face now as well.
We hold onto each other for dear life,
for some time,
taking in each other’s essence.
Sometimes,
there are just no words.
Belonging
Do you ever feel
so alone
because no one sees
what you see?
Their horizon,
straight and narrow,
while yours is
vertical, circular, and overlapping.
They just don’t see
what you see,
at least not yet,
maybe never.
Do you ever just feel
so alone?
A Winter’s Journey
The crowds are gone,
boardwalk stands closed.
I’m all alone,
bare and battered
without the usual trappings
and adornments
to attract company.
They have all left me in off-season.
The For Rent signs
in front of most homes,
proof of their abandonment…
rejection….
betrayal.
Exposed to the stark, harsh elements,
the blustery, freezing winds
blow right over me
like I don’t exist.
Do I matter if no one wants what I have to offer?
I feel cold, rough and choppy,
And the recent storms
have created further erosion.
What will become of me?
Off in the far distance
I see her walking toward me,
slow and directionless.
She comes closer,
and looks right past me
out into the horizon,
further proof of my lack.
I study her,
natural and unembellished,
bundled up in a modest coat,
her eyes with a faraway look,
her cheeks ruddy,
her lips dry and cracked.
She is a reflection
of my own melancholy and discontent.
She too is alone.
We stand together,
yet apart,
for some time,
until unexpectedly,
she acknowledges me
with an unwavering gaze,
filled with strength and compassion.
She bends down
and puts out her arms,
her hands grazing my presence.
I feel her comforting warmth.
In this moment,
she is revived.
So am I.
An unlikely pairing,
I, a deserted beach,
and, she, a wandering visitor,
healing each other,
on our winter’s journey,
with the simplicity and elegance
of our presence.
The seagulls,
witnessing the splendor
of our exchange
fly in synchronized V-formations above.
A meaningful life
is but a tangled string
of surrendered moments like this.
All is not lost.
Prison Walls
I don’t know
how to leave
the prison I built
from the war
in my mind.
Palatial cell walls
constructed with pride and fear
lured me in
under the false pretense
that I’d be
happy, comfortable, and safe.
The illusion is exposed.
I want to break free
from the maze
of confusion and shame.
Yet, I still can’t leave.
Won’t leave.
To go where?
Isn’t the next destination I seek
just another self-imposed confinement?
What if life is just this?
Breaking Up with Myself
Dear Ego,
Look, we’ve had a good run.
In fact, this is the longest
I’ve been in a relationship with anyone,
but the gig is up.
We’ve experienced so much together,
the good and the bad,
and, yes, you’ve always been there for me,
but I’ve grown and expanded
and you…not so much,
and besides,
we’ve always wanted different things
out of life anyway.
I know you’ve repeatedly said
I can’t live without
you,
but guess what?
I can.
That was made clear
when you’ve backed off in the past
and given me some space,
but it never lasts.
Instead, you keep disrupting
all the beauty and peace
I’m trying to create in the world.
I’ve been gentle and compassionate with you,
because that’s my true nature,
but let’s not confuse niceness with weakness.
I can’t do this anymore.
I won’t do this anymore.
This current round of fear and remorse you’re instigating
to create unnecessary suffering within me is the last straw.
I’m so over your flashy, needy, and controlling ways.
And anyway, I’m into the strong, silent type now.
What I know for certain
is that my life will include
my daughter,
creative expression,
ice cream, chocolate,
and a few pairs of cute shoes.
Everything else is a crapshoot,
except you.
There’s no more room for you.
Maybe for you
to finally stop,
I need to speak to you
in the harsh tones
that you speak to me.
So here goes.
Your choices,
are to shut up
and get over yourself
or get your bleepin’ crap
out of my place
and get your sorry ass out of here.
Comprende?
Eternally,
Your Soul
XOXO
Grace in the Wildness
It’s time to say goodbye to you
gently,
yet deliberately,
closing the door
on our time together
and walking away
without looking back.
Our experiences,
were not all bad,
some very lovely and loving,
but the arrival of unstable air
at critical junctures,
from both of us,
created powerful winds
and dry, still air
that, over time,
became an unintended storm.
Surprising to find wisdom
in the eye of the tornado,
learning what is real and true.
There is grace in the wildness.
Clouds of compassion
and mists of forgiveness
hover overhead,
holding little room for regret,
when the focus is on the present horizon,
anticipating the next weather pattern
without you.
A climate change is underway
from hazy smog
to severely clear skies.
It’s time to go,
but where?
Pride blown away
by the winds of change,
patience prevails.
I succumb to the unknown,
trusting that double rainbows
follow rainstorms
when illuminated by bright sunshine.
I can now ask for help,
willingly and beseechingly,
to the only One
who can provide the future forecast.
Part 5
The Reunion…
of the Ego and Soul
Tooth Fairy
You came home from school today
proudly announcing
that you now know
there is no such thing
as the tooth fairy.
Hearing the conviction in your voice,
seeing the confidence in your stance,
I felt something solid and black lodge into my heart,
a result of more than the bittersweet emotions
of witnessing you growing up, and
how quickly time is slipping by.
It was seeing you start to lose your innocence,
the belief in the enchanted,
that’s present everywhere,
all the time
if we choose to see.
Remember last week when I asked you to water the plants.
You held the hose up to the sky and made it rain,
and danced with joy between the drops.
We saw rainbows in the water’s essence
revealing its colorful aura.
We felt cleansed as the water hit our skin,
the grime of the day washed away.
Afterwards, we looked out into the backyard,
smelling earth’s perfume,
the beads of water
crystallizing the grass, trees and flowers,
nature all jeweled and bedazzled.
There is a tooth fairy,
but, no, not in the way you’ve known her to be.
You’re mature enough now to understand
that she’s not the tiny creature
that flits into your room at night
and puts a dollar under your pillow.
But she is real.
She exists in you.
She exists in me,
as long as we continue
to live in the mystery
and believe in the magic.
Don’t lose, sweet girl, what I’m now rediscovering.
It
I’m tired of…
defining myself by other’s standards,
controlling their perceptions of me,
seeking something better than what is,
trying to figure everything out.
I can somewhat appreciate
how much wasted energy
has gone into these endeavors,
yet, my mind can’t grasp how to stop
the pain, blame, shame game.
Without the ruse,
then who am I really?
How do I show up?
What do I do instead?
A mist of clarity
obscures the air.
I sense
the Knowing
in the Unknown,
the Seeker
and the Sought,
feeling Light
in the Dark,
of being more than one
in One.
Whomever you are,
however you are,
wherever you are
is the way.
All of it,
is IT.
Worthy
They think I’m unworthy
and I’ve allowed
the shame and guilt of that
to seep into my Being,
affect my thoughts,
influence my feelings,
and impact my actions
because I believed them
without awareness
of my consent.
But I don’t believe
them anymore,
which changes everything
and nothing.
I am whole, complete and enough,
and so are they,
even if they don’t know it…
yet.
The Middle Place
Caught between worlds,
changing form
like changing clothes,
garments of the soul.
Time overlaps,
dreaming while awake,
life expanding
&nb
sp; and collapsing.
I can feel that.
Anything is possible
yet, nothing is real.
The suffering of
trying to find
the answer
when none exists.
The pendulum swings,
far left
and then
far right,
back and forth,
until it finally rests,
in the middle place.
Where there is nothing to prove,
nobody to defend,
no one right way to be,
except centered
between duality and relativity,
wanting nothing more
than what is.
Turning 50
My world has been caught
in the karma of past lives,
where clarity of the Truth
and my teachings
woke people up,
and scared the ones in power
by threatening their authority
because I asked people to trust their inner knowings
rather than the dogma spewing from the mouths
of the latest representatives of state and church.
My ignorance and naiveté about my impact on others,
especially those sourced by jealously, greed, and power
caused me much harm, over many lives,
physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually.
This has left me stuck to play out a belief
that made me suppress who I really am,
and make me feel separate
from all that I know to be true.
This belief has caused me to leave
the rich imagination and creativity
of a little girl behind
as I grew up into a practical, independent woman
who unknowingly made life choices
to avoid further personal harm from others.
But it didn’t work.
Not only did I still not fit in,
but I became judge, jury, and prisoner,
self-imprisoned by my own thoughts and feelings.
And now, knowing all this,
I’m trying to find forgiveness
in others,
and mostly myself.
Only when we can love
our enemies and inner demons
are we truly free.
Rebellious?
Midlife crisis?
No.
Just trying to live
in the purity of the truth
not needing to prove myself to others,
attempting to right
their false impressions of me.
I’m not the abandoned little girl
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