Extreme focus ready to rock the day.
Mind at the service of the body.
At the ready,
What do you WANT to do today?
God, I get so overwhelmed by possibility.
Today’s explorations are endless!
It is like energy bottled, and ready for drinking.
And then here’s the thing:
I fear someone will take it away.
I fear I have to give it up, take on someone else’s wishes.
It haunts me. I stiffen at the idea of it.
And then (the irony), I yearn for it.
Maybe some rest, or going over there is a better choice.
Bills, calls, dishes, laundry, etc,
The unexpectedness of life,
Freedom is having the choice
To use my own velocity the way I want to.
To make decision deep within the soils of the soul
So I can birth strong roots to grow a magnificent plant
With leaves that stretch for days,
To nurture not just her,
But all those around her.
It’s the same ol’
Tit for tat
Just like that
How many times
Do I have to ask
Why isn’t it done yet?
Lost in translation
All the best of intentions
The other side doesn’t get it
Just, accept things as is.
Make me feel better
Let me rest
Take the reigns
It can all go away.
Impatience taking over layers of exhaustion
The same ol’
Like a monologue on repeat
A record with no stop to it
Where did it all go?
I don’t want to go to bed like this
And it’s happened all week
Close my eyes
Dreams, sweep me
Let EscapeLand whisk me
Tomorrow will be better
We’ll be nicer to each other
A new page,
A new day.
This is my shadow.
A life a few feet behind me.
That shirt. God, I thought I tossed it.
This smell..brings me back to here.
When it was then.
I sat at this very table processing, organizing, dreaming, concocting.
He sat catching a show on the tube.
I would go to sleep full of dreams and plans and, well, darkness.
How can you build on unsteady ground?
This work is hard and real and very necessary.
These pants. I hope they fit.
Do I still want the books, the socks, the dusty makeup?
Maybe not the makeup.
The muffled city outside taps on my window.
Tomorrow, lovely one. Tomorrow.
My little treetop of goodness.
How it fills my soul.
Silence. No dog. No schedule. No errands.
Not yet. Just. Me.
Hard work happens on an exhaustive plane home,
Unpacking and sifting and embracing my fragile heart.
Eyes like thick drops of oil.
Body like a sleepy kitten. Make that an older cat.
Mind swimming uphill with zest, or maybe desperation.
Tomorrow, lovely one. Tomorrow.
Silence, even if it’s only for a few minutes
I come to,
Coming out of Salvador Dali dreams
I am peeking my eyes open, like a secret unfolding
I am breathing in the long night’s pillows and blankets
The smells of Dreamlandia
Silly, inconsequential memories arise
Like counting sheep
These dreams are colors, shapes, and the strangest of narratives
I believe them all
Like a child, all in
Scary yet familiar
Like Terminator; a stranger within a friend
Metal on vulnerable skin,
Oh silence, I salute you.
Fog, sleepy sun, empty streets
The greenery outside stretches their limbs from the long night
Yes, here’s the in-between
Here’s the gray
When the inner Self approaches and softly whispers to the soul,
“Today is a gift.”
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, 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 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.
Let’s load for a little while.
Writing from the car
Sun is shining the weather is sweet (queue music)
I am parked among the wealthy, the exuberant, the luxurious.
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
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.
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 toss to the side as I look for the next
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.