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Wow, what a month
We have sent 2017 to be archived
Like a book on the shelf of life
Locked and loaded – we made it!

It’s a time of celebration
Mom, sister, brother, all alive and kickin’
My love and dog, healthy; and lifestyle overflowing
To think…

To think, some moons ago, I hated this time
Anniversaries were my annual death
I wailed, isolated myself, stabbed big knives into deep wounds.
My poor love would watch, at my side, hopeless.

Whether it was body, mind, career, money
It was all Hubris
And nieve
And stupid,
And thank God, forgivable.

How can I digest 2017’s feast with greater celebration?
So I can dance through 2018 with purpose and joy and grace,
Like tea with dear old friends?

Time keeps on tock-ticking
Oh, stop it mind —
I fear death may very well be around the corner
I fear that this new awakening inside means I have “arrived”
Please, not yet.

Whether it be the hauntings of my father’s end
Or other such silly self-inflicted hurty-poo’s
I have dreams that are loading.
Please hold…
Let’s load for a little while.

anchor into me

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Thursday morning
Writing from the car
Sun is shining the weather is sweet (queue music)
I am parked among the wealthy, the exuberant, the luxurious.
New
Flashy
Shiny
Other.

Why does this always feel so foreign to me?
Oh, that’s a bigger question for another cocktail.
I have a few minutes, and the only thing I want to do is – touch
Hand to heart
Close my eyes, and
Remember me.

Anchor into me.

Can materialistic overwhelm disconnect you from you?
They say it’s true.
I say that it does.
I find myself unchained and segregated, searching for my anchor.

New
Flashy
Shiny
Other.
Physical proof of value and entitlement
The statues, the sprawling greenery, the dream of…

The world loves this shit and I am torn and yet curious by it
Why isn’t it easy?
I look at my basic car
My simple keyboard that connects to my, yes, luxurious phone
I look at my leather bag, authentic jewelry, Nike shoes, American citizenship, and on.

When you look at me, my life is not far off from that.
The abundance I take for granted
I forget
I toss to the side as I look for the next
New
Flashy
Shiny
Other.

when do I come first?

when do I come first?

When do I come first?

No, that’s a real question.

Is it after peeing and before taking my probiotics?

Is it after my tea brews and before I check email?

Is it once Jackie is walked, pissed, pooed and fed?

When do I show up for me?

After cleaning up the kitchen and before the clock hits 10am?

After taking out the trash and before the rest of my to-do list comes a-knockin’?

Am I worth the investment?

Time for me hits home the hardest when I see someone else doing it.

A “Wow”, a respect, an inspiration; sometimes an anger, a jealousy, an envy – all of those feelings come flying out of —

My heart? My soul? The little voice within?

I struggle with balance everyday. I know you do too.

Call mum (it’s been a while), connect with best friend, look boyfriend in the eyeballs when he shares a story, hold off the worry/panic/stress/concern/time racing. Leave that at the door. For now. This here. A moment.

You can start now.

good deeds

good deeds

A remote tribe in the southern part of Africa was discovered to employ a unique tactic for righting a wrong:

When a person acts irresponsibly or unjustly, he is placed in the center of the village, alone and unfettered. All work ceases, while every man, woman, and child in the village gathers in a large circle around the accused individual.

Then, one at a time, each person in the tribe steps in front of the accused and recalls a positive deed the person in the circle has done in his lifetime. All of his positive attributes, good deeds, strengths, and kindnesses are recited carefully and at length. This ceremony can last for several days.

At the end, the circle is broken, a joyous celebration takes place, and the person is welcomed back into the good graces of the tribe.

___
Light

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.

in a million years

in a million years

Sunday best.
Comfy pants, oversized shirt, tea in hand, silence.
The place is deserted.
Besides the laundry spinning its final cycle.
10am.
Wow, what to do with this glorious day?

Excitement is enmeshed with overwhelm.
There’s a TON to do.
But what do I WANT to do?

“Take your Sunday off.”
Do active nothings.
Like, yoga, massage, vacuum.
Keep your mind restful, and don’t feel like you have to do anything.

Continue reading “in a million years”

kodak kinda thing

90s sprinklers

We’re too far away from the pools.
Mum unfolds the sprinkler in the backyard and lets us play in the water.
My brother loves this shit.
He squeals with delight and makes sure I watch his latest Street Fighter moves.
Hee-yaa!

It’s hot with a cool breeze, the only way Melbourne summer can get, up and down like a bipolar off meds.
I feel the warm mud under my feet, I play with it between my toes.
Squish, squish.

“Liza, I just did it for you!”
I turn to appease my brother, “Ok, do it again.”
How’s mum going to get this wet grass off the floor inside?
My brother karate chops the water in midair, “Did you see that?” he screams.
“Awesome stuff!” I tell him.

Continue reading “kodak kinda thing”