a month since

Liza Fernandez

A month since my birthday.
The birth of this body, this time, this heart, this mind.
A time to celebrate.
A time to reflect.
A time for silliness.

Fingers, toes, legs, arms, all in place.
Skin taut and elastic (for now).
Heart wide open.
Mind even more expansive than yesterday.
Curiosity killed the cat, not quite yet.

Here’s to failing.
And failing again.
And failing one more time.

Here’s to celebrating.
And cheering.
And doing the Dance of Joy right now, this moment.
Now this.

Here’s to tears of all sorts.
To breakdowns and breaks in general.
Here’s to light and shadows and how they pirouette before us all.
Here’s to stillness.

I am grateful to be alive.
I am honored to be living during this time.
I am embracing the year ahead with playfulness.
Let’s play.

Liza Fernandez

october blood moon

october blood moon

October’s Moon is often referred to as the Full Hunter’s Moon, Blood Moon, or Sanguine Moon. Many moons ago, Native Americans named this bright moon for obvious reasons. The leaves are falling from trees, the deer are fattened, and it’s time to begin storing up meat for the long winter ahead. Because the fields were traditionally reaped in late September or early October, hunters could easily see fox and other animals that come out to glean from the fallen grains. Probably because of the threat of winter looming close, the Hunter’s Moon is generally accorded with special honor, historically serving as an important feast day in both Western Europe and among many Native American tribes.

Ok, full blood moon, here goes:

I let go of ignorance.

I let go of fear.

I let go of the separation.

I cultivate kindness amongst adversity.

I cultivate silence.

I cultivate Unity.

Your turn.
Liza Fernandez

Done (pt 3)

POPS the club

I am crying
over things that shouldn’t cause so many tears.
I am clutching
to things that everyone else can let go of so easily.
I am ripping
away at my own brain
because the darkness only hurts me more.
I am pushing
because my whole life that’s what I’ve been good at.
I am killing
myself over people
who wouldn’t do the same for me.
I am holding
back from the things that should help me succeed.
I am wandering
through broken pieces
that I shouldn’t have to put together in the first place.
I am over
everything.
I am so
done.

___
Done by Iona Scott, Before There Were BarsPOPS The Club

step up/meet it/match it/expand it

Walk into the darkness.
She said.
Don’t look back at your ghost, it’ll never serve you.
What once was, is no longer.
Step up, meet it, match it, expand it.
She said.

I stood stunned.
Who are you to tell me this?
How dare you.
How dare your courage, your groundedness, your skill, your success.
How dare your reason, your age, your wisdom, your heart.

Oh, child, you need to rid yourself of perfection.
It has never served you.
It never will.
Step up, meet yourself new; match it, expand it.
She said.

I said, fuck you.
I felt hot tears melt away makeup and mask.
I wanted to run away,
but I found myself nodding in agreement and making those “hmm” sounds like, “good one.”

Good one.
Ha.
Like, that’s funny.
And yet, she’s right.
She’s fucking right.

times up!

times up.jpg

You got an hour!
Like a prison alarm – BAAAAAAANG!
Time’s up.

Almost there.
Sit and write.
Close that door and swallow the stillness whole.
Throw it back like you mean it.
Take it, it’s yours.

Cuz you know that Quiet creaks opens the magic door…
Where the Still Voice lives.
The Still Voice, you know the one
Like an echo of an echo that whispers, “What about me?”

What about that book?
What about that play?
What about that movie?
What about that job?