Monday, January 04, 2016

fissures of Spirit

my dad and i are sitting at the kitchen table, I'm eating and complaining about my lengthy doctors appt today, which is why I was unable to pick him up from work as arranged since my appt took two hours longer than anticipated.
he is listening, grunting approvals of my justified frustration while he absent-mindedly check pages in his planner.

i finish eating.
he starts to share details about his trip to see gramma this weekend.
he talks about the parkinsons medication effect, the catheter. her apnea moments when she stops breathing for minutes at a time and he leans in to her and says,  "Mom, are you gone?" he does not talk about the cancer.

then he pauses for a long while and says, "At one point Darc, she says to me

'Jim is here with me, Jay. Jim is here!'

(Jim: my grampa, my dad's father, grams husband)

silence. Dad starts to choke up.

i put down my dishes and give him my full, silent attention. i move a little closer to him, but then look away to the corner of the room when i realize he does not want to cry. probably because he doesn't want me to see him cry.

He goes on after half a minute of strange, gasped breaths, and says,  "So i tell her, Go with him Ma."

Another long pause and the curdled inhalations.

My heart is weeping for this man, my father, the hero of my childhood, the first man i loved in this life. An alcoholic by generation and genetics, a know-it-all, oblivious to self reflection and what I'll broadly call Awareness, and absolutely the greatest dad on the planet.

i slide across the kitchen floor from the sink to his chair, moved by innate nurturing, and with one hand i pet his back. as i do this, i am building up a shield of white, sparkling strength around me, around us, so i can be strong for the both of us. strong enough to not also break down in to tears of loss. tears honoring the very special connection between parent and child.

his upper back muscles are so, so tight, his body so stiff, it's like trying to comfort a bag of concrete mix. or a punching bag.

after what feels like much too brief a moment given the circumstances,  he sniffs his liquids back in, straightens up and says, Well that's enough of that. 

i tenderly say to him,  it's okay to feel Daddy. i wonder if he cries in my mother's presence.

he quickly snaps,  I know. 
gets up and goes out of the room, away from me and my comforting. 

do we even feel anymore?

do we know how to truly feel our emotions?  after so many years of pushing them aside. drowned and decaying in the dark bottom of our soul,  waiting for a glimmer of light to release them, to be free once again.

have we forgotten what it means to receive?

love,   comfort,  and human touch.

lost to those who choose the blindness.

Tuesday, December 15, 2015

I had no idea how free we can be.

I want to travel to these places in my mind. In the synapses, the spaces in between. Magic school bus shrink me down and take me through the plasma and marrow to the core of my Being.

What makes one tied, binded, attached to the choices she hasn't made. Nothing is an illusion. There's always more to grow.

It's good to know. It feels good to know. Now I am free.

Thursday, June 13, 2013


What if you want something so much that you push it away? Do not want for not. What the Fuck does that even mean? I want it badly. And I will do what it takes to get it. Plain and simple. Oh yes, it will be mine.

Friday, March 29, 2013

Best alarm clock ever

My alarm goes off at 7am pretty much every morning.

It starts off with a sniffle near my head and slowly progresses to a kind of whimpered exhale.

I am awake, but I may or may not acknowledge.

If I don't pay proper or satisfactory recognition, suddenly there is a jump and a thump and I am joined in bed by a 40 lb tripod Jesus and either Scorpion or Lobster.

Wake up! They say. We have to pee and its time to start your day!
(Scorpion can't actually relieve himself, but he partakes in the ambush anyway)

Buhhhhhh, yes, yes, its dawn. A new day. I stretch, he streches, we all stretch.

I yawn. He yawns. I contemplate going back to sleep. He army-crawls a bit closer to my head and rolls around a bit so his body weight and positioning leaves me no drift-back-to-sleep room.

Damn. I'm awake. His soft fur and warm body make me smile. He knows he's won. He pounces on Scorpion and gives an excited snort of triumph, throwing his head back. Is he laughing at me?

Oh-kay-... The words have barely left my mouth and he is leaping off the bed and scrambling for the back door.

Hurry, hurry, he squeals. There might be a squirrel in my yard and I'm going to bark really loudly at it! His giddy grin from across the room forces an audible laugh from my belly.

I throw the covers back, giving them a little shake to expell any residing dog hairs. (He's really not allowed on the bed)

Another day has begun with Jesus warming my heart. I am grateful for his daily wake up mission. He is a special and very loved dog.

Easter is Sunday and I cannot help wonder how my morning alarm and the resurrection of Christ can be twisted into some funny dharma for my class on Sunday. I'll have to play with that.

Maybe I will make Jesus an Easter basket...


Friday, March 22, 2013

Vernal Equinox

Spring is here... A time of new beginnings...
So I make my magick egg :)
I dye it blue for Peace and Serenity, and fill it with a citrine crystal, cinnamon chips, and bay leaves for Prosperity and Healing. I seal it with red wax for Love. It lays on my alter, a symbol of birth, life, creation and creativity, of new beginnings.

Darkness hovers. The early dawn sends invitation: it is time. We are ready to begin. As I strike my sceptre into the ground, a bright sparkling golden light shoots from the bottom of my staff into the ground, bringing fertility to the earth and sprouting new life beneath me. The top of my wooden staff radiates a beautiful glittering aura, encircling myself and all those near and dear to me. I gently arch my back, tilt my head, and gaze up to the heavens in gratitude; bending over, I scoop up a handful of soil, placing one hand over the other, cupping the cool moist earth, giving my blessings for the coming season. As the soil falls back to earth between my fingertips, I Rise, empowered by the Divine Light to embark on this new adventure. The fire of light surrounding me pulsates with each breathe, swirling and thickening as it reaches the corners of me.
I breathe deeply. And breathe again. This place, this now, this life, is perfect. Complete. There is nothing more that I require. My feet grounded, my sex satisfied, my belly filled, my heart open, my breathe quality; my vision is clear. This is the beginning.

And so I begin . . .

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

I love when I get to start a fresh roll of TP in public bathrooms. Today, I got to do it twice! :D

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Floating pink chiffon.

She floats above me in the distance,
her pink chiffon dress fluttering in the winds of time.
She smiles warmly,
I smile back, not knowing but trusting.
Who she is does not matter,
her story must be heard.
I am surrounded by pastel sunrise colors and filled with vibrational joy,
her memories implanted in mine as we share the laughter of a joke told long ago.
I don't want this to end.
But I feel my world pulling me back,
my life gently tugging on the rope to let me know its time to return to my dreams, my head, my bed.
I steal one last grateful gaze at her essence, her story told, her life affirmed.
She fades as the ceiling comes back in to focus. And then she is gone.
But her vibrations remain. Etched into my cells fast and forever.
Floating pink chiffon.