holding

holding

I hold a cup of black tea in a Starbucks vintage mug; the tea is not their’s and tastes way better. There’s a chip on the cup. I should dispose of it but I chose not to.

I’m feeling a joyful glee in my heart cuz my partner returns home tomorrow. How four weeks has fast forward and slowed down all at once. I recall his warm soft lips and how they just fit mine.

I sit still as the sun beams down on my skin. It’s warm with a cool breeze reminding us winter is around the corner. The critical mind tells me to pull away (wrinkles, remember), but I don’t. Fly kisses from the sun reach the smile spreading across my cheeks.

I’m wondering if this is what they mean by “bliss”. This moment. On my own.
That hop-skip-and-a-jump feeling, that “skip to my lou my darling” pep to the step.
I try not to choke it; surrendering is a joy ride.

I sip.
Eyes closed.
Fly kisses to the sun and back.
Smiling.

slow motion

Slow motion.
Heavy foot, right left.
Trying to shrug it off.
Get over it, just do it.

Flashes of humiliation.
Debilitating truths.
Two sides, one coin.
No one is right.
Yet it feels so real.

Jump.
Get out there, get out of your head.
Do it over and over.
Fail and fail better.
I am visited by doubt.
I am visited by weight.
I am visited by the Ghost of Comparison, who rears its lion head.

It’s mane as thick as cement.
As permanent as fake truth, fake facts.
It’s a lie, right?
Come on, pull yourself out of this muck.

A rush of cold water to the face, do it.
Do it now. Do it quick.
Heal this wound by ripping the bandaid off like, Right Now.
People are dying, hurricanes are whirling, our world is in need of less self-centeredness, more generosity.

But first, slow motion.

April’s egg, or full pink moon

april full moon

What is April’s Full Moon?

This name came from the herb moss pink, or wild ground phlox, which is one of the earliest widespread flowers of the spring. Other names for this month’s celestial body include the Full Sprouting Grass Moon, the Egg Moon, and among coastal tribes the Full Fish Moon, because this was the time that the shad swam upstream to spawn.

Here are my Egg Moon offerings:

I let go of getting it all done.

I let go gripping the path.

I let go wrinkled shirts that need to be ironed.

I cultivate trust.

I cultivate honoring ebb and flow.

I cultivate creative magnets.

Your turn.
Liza Fernandez

hopefully

the sun shines for you

Wake up, piss, oil pull.
Slip into slippers, stretch, go for the tea.
Sun shines through window; hopefully you take a moment to acknowledge it.

I have to call the gas company.
I haven’t answered her email.
The place could use a vacuum.
We’re out of honey.

Finish oil pulling, brush teeth, look into the mirror.
Hopefully, you see yourself.
Besides the mop hair, crow’s feet and mascara smudges.
I mean, truly see yourself.
Remember why today is a gift, not just another day.
Hopefully you smile.

Type away.
Send email.
Clock in.
Sip tea.
Forget.

Forget so you can remember again today.

The sun shines for you.
Life loves you.
It’s all a gift.

prayer rug

fog new york city

I think steaming chicken soup.
I think rich hot chocolate at the ready.
I think closing my eyes and imagining England with its vacant castles, cobblestone streets and the sound of foghorns in the distance.
I think quiet, slow walks, hand in hand, inhaling romance.
I think cuddling up before an awesome movie; puffy pillows and homemade popcorn.

The blanket of fog that wraps the city this night is breathtaking.
It stops me in my tracks and reminds me how fuckin’ gorgeous Nature truly is.
It welcomes me into hibernation, soothes my worried mind and gently whispers to my forlorn heart, “slow down.”
I shall..

“The fog unrolls itself to be a player rug to the mountains.”
– 
Jonathan-Lockwood Huie