Friday, July 31, 2009

Mind-Sick and The Bumps to Prove it!

I’ve been saying a little phrase – out loud and in my head “I’m allergic to my life!” These are very powerful words… in-fact so powerful that I have hives on my stomach and my arms! I thought I was being so funny and clever with my witty saying… and now it’s manifested its self to be true. The mind is a powerful thing which of course got me thinking… if I can create hives from stress what can I create with peaceful feelings? And isn’t this what the entire guru’s of the world have been saying? Did I really need hives to stop the negativity flowing through me? Perhaps I did! Most importantly, if I can believe everything will work out and I will be just fine… would I? Just a little lesson in perceptions and flip! I go over to the positive side!

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

New. Change. Fear.

I’m not sure where I thought I would be. There wasn’t a checklist I made when I turned eighteen on who I was going to be ten years later. Something doesn’t fit with this imaginary plan hovering like a ghost above my head. In the middle of the night its as if I am the only audience to the world. Staring out my bedroom window at four in the morning calmed by the stars who feel like old friends. We have sat in this same bright darkness together in comfortable quiet on many occasions. Tonight I feel change taking place without me… I know its time. My nemesis and my greatest ally. Change will move forward feet planted firmly in the desert sand with its head down carrying its burden on its back towards the new. Do I go quietly or make a scene? If I choose to fight I will be walking with bound hands and tattered clothes staggering behind Change. If I go peacefully I’ll have to let go of the comfort of Fear. Being afraid has been such a comfort -it lets me shake my blond curls as I nod “no” with arms crossed and regress back to five years old again. How did I grow up and still manage to bring Fear this far with me? Letting go of fear and accepting change… the battle is on!

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

The Paper-bag Princess ... Is Me?!?!

Writing to calm the squalls of my mind… Like my own little Yantzee party only the dice are my thoughts rolling around in a great vacant space. Time to reason with myself on what is important and what isn’t. Evaluating what can and will take the cut in my life. Unfortunately, the house will be the first to go. I keep reminding myself that a lot of people are downsizing and struggling.

Why do I hold on to an image – or need a pretty picture on the outside? The car, the house… all those things are just “things” – pretty things, but not NEEDED things. This princess-like mentality I find myself battling with is not only annoyingly unattractive but also disappointing. Perhaps the biggest lesson to be learned is to simplify my life… in everyway possible. I have been living outside my means and struggling to hold on to the picture that everything is OKAY.

What I found interesting is that I was holding onto this image for myself. Was I afraid I wouldn’t like me if I didn’t have these things? Was I valuing me on what I HAD? Did I really think - If I can pull into the driveway in my pretty green mustang and walk up to my huge house turning the key and walk inside then I was and will be ‘okay’. The fear of change that I have carried with me since childhood – the need to keep everything in order and the ‘same’ has dragged me into what I can only sum up as - quite a little pickle.

This pretense is only making it worse and I find myself flailing like a drowning man looking for a life preserve. It is time for me to grow up – make the best choice which isn’t always the prettiest and requires owning up and making a change, so I can learn to tread water once again.

Moving on… and moving out…

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Vague pages fill the story of my life.

Nothing is ever what it seems. My life is as cryptic as the words I write. Often people ask me what and who my words are about. I’m haunted by what I can create in my mind – what flows through my tired hands on white new pages. I can create the most beautiful scenes the most amazing stories, but it lives in a tattered worn notebook by the side of my bed. I exist merely in words. There are no happy endings without words – just fluttering moments like butterflies or the shift of the wind. We get moments of what could be and what will always be…Then the very movement of the world creates a shadow of what is. How I wish and long for the super power to freeze time outside of my pages. How I would suspend the moments that made me feel hopeful and alive and wallow in them. I would bask in the sunlight of each sliver of human kindness, of passion, of love, and most of all of feeling. The kind of feeling that does not judge, does not hold back does not challenge. It just is. I would laugh at those who told me this was a lesson – all things I am learning – this too shall pass. I would just freeze time and exist for awhile in my safe place. I would see them all there – those who inspired me and made me feel whole when I was a shell. I would smile but say nothing as I walked past them. I'm walking down a long stream barefoot in a spring meadow filled with yellow flowers for miles. I'm looking for someone in particular - the one I look for most these days. Seeing in the distance a form alone just past the trees I hesitate and soak in the feeling of who I know is waiting there. Slowly... holding my breath I would carefully step closer. I would join and sit with my shadow friend for awhile – just exist with him suspended in a moment and the past would play like a video tape before us – only the good parts – the parts when I felt alive and less tired and worn. The parts when real life and it’s real 'worlds' didn’t collide. Nothing shatters on the river bank near my stream. There is only moss covered trees that sway with an inviting breeze, muttering glittering pools of clear crisp waters rolling over rounded rocks, the smell of new soil and green foliage, and the promise that love can truly conquer all. “I don’t want to go back” I mutter to the shadow friend beside me. “Do we really have to go back?” I ask the silence. I know the answer. I always know the answer. What if this time I can’t dusk off my knees and return for another round. What if I can’t keep moving forward when there feels like there is nothing to move forward too? Cowardly, I hide behind all good things blocking out my reality. My shadow friend shifts. His brilliant face tilts and sad blue glass eyes look back at me. He will return – he won’t stay here with me – time can only freeze so long. He wants to go back – the thing he needs exists in the real world. Let him go… let it all just fade away. Moments. A handful of moments cupped in silly little hands. Vague nothingness of crumbling pages like a forgotten and overlooked torn dress.