tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827024678424252202024-03-13T09:15:07.720-06:00~balance~Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331426454255704459noreply@blogger.comBlogger43125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282702467842425220.post-19583969444181106942016-01-04T17:40:00.001-07:002016-01-04T17:45:18.329-07:00fissures of Spirit<p dir="ltr">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. <br>
he is listening, grunting approvals of my justified frustration while he absent-mindedly check pages in his planner. </p>
<p dir="ltr">i finish eating.<br>
he starts to share details about his trip to see gramma this weekend. <br>
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.</p>
<p dir="ltr">then he pauses for a long while and says, "At one point Darc, she says to me </p>
<p dir="ltr">'Jim is here with me, Jay. Jim is here!'</p>
<p dir="ltr">(Jim: my grampa, my dad's father, grams husband)</p>
<p dir="ltr">silence. Dad starts to choke up. </p>
<p dir="ltr">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.</p>
<p dir="ltr">He goes on after half a minute of strange, gasped breaths, and says,  "So i tell her, Go with him Ma." </p>
<p dir="ltr">Another long pause and the curdled inhalations. </p>
<p dir="ltr">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.</p>
<p dir="ltr">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.</p>
<p dir="ltr">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.</p>
<p dir="ltr">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.  </p>
<p dir="ltr">i tenderly say to him,  it's okay to feel Daddy. i wonder if he cries in my mother's presence. </p>
<p dir="ltr">he quickly snaps,  I know.  <br>
gets up and goes out of the room, away from me and my comforting.  <br><br><br></p>
<p dir="ltr">do we even feel anymore? </p>
<p dir="ltr">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. </p>
<p dir="ltr">have we forgotten what it means to receive?<br><br></p>
<p dir="ltr">love,   comfort,  and human touch.</p>
<p dir="ltr">lost to those who choose the blindness.</p>
Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331426454255704459noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282702467842425220.post-38290265569995457482015-12-15T22:38:00.001-07:002015-12-15T22:42:30.770-07:00<p dir="ltr">I had no idea how free we can be.</p>
<p dir="ltr">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.</p>
<p dir="ltr">What makes one tied, binded, attached to the choices she hasn't made. Nothing is an illusion. There's always more to grow. </p>
<p dir="ltr">It's good to know. It feels good to know. Now I am free.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhSw8ZMF8KKpSwA0BYK90t11eaeIZfcFRe9iJSrAKYA7gZN2J-RxFufjhPP4LTKbXNfdotJBwZPpdE06OU9tGyOswKmRm0NkZhN4bMXVys6_8_n9qornie89xTVkarFsWC_eLHBgIG5DRX/s1600/20151201_010051.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhSw8ZMF8KKpSwA0BYK90t11eaeIZfcFRe9iJSrAKYA7gZN2J-RxFufjhPP4LTKbXNfdotJBwZPpdE06OU9tGyOswKmRm0NkZhN4bMXVys6_8_n9qornie89xTVkarFsWC_eLHBgIG5DRX/s640/20151201_010051.jpg"> </a> </div>Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331426454255704459noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282702467842425220.post-23143601161137167832013-06-13T23:09:00.001-06:002013-06-13T23:09:20.441-06:00Desire<p>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. </p>
Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331426454255704459noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282702467842425220.post-86337962211028610122013-03-29T08:37:00.001-06:002013-03-29T08:37:19.192-06:00Best alarm clock ever<p>My alarm goes off at 7am pretty much every morning.</p>
<p>It starts off with a sniffle near my head and slowly progresses to a kind of whimpered exhale.</p>
<p>I am awake, but I may or may not acknowledge.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>Wake up! They say. We have to pee and its time to start your day! <br>
(Scorpion can't actually relieve himself, but he partakes in the ambush anyway)</p>
<p>Buhhhhhh, yes, yes, its dawn. A new day. I stretch, he streches, we all stretch.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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?</p>
<p>Oh-kay-... The words have barely left my mouth and he is leaping off the bed and scrambling for the back door. </p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>I throw the covers back, giving them a little shake to expell any residing dog hairs. (He's really not allowed on the bed)</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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. </p>
<p>Maybe I will make Jesus an Easter basket... </p>
<p>TJIF!</p>
<div class='separator' style='clear: both; text-align: center;'> <a href='http://lh3.ggpht.com/-dGrB4XJH0dI/UVWkB61meFI/AAAAAAAAAbw/qMqCkfb6uo0/s1600/IMAG0714.jpg' imageanchor='1' style='margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;'> <img border='0' src='http://lh3.ggpht.com/-dGrB4XJH0dI/UVWkB61meFI/AAAAAAAAAbw/qMqCkfb6uo0/s640/IMAG0714.jpg' /> </a> </div><div class='separator' style='clear: both; text-align: center;'> <a href='http://lh6.ggpht.com/-iUctwHoGnSI/UVWkbdxjw4I/AAAAAAAAAb4/8yYuSx2cUPQ/s1600/IMAG0717.jpg' imageanchor='1' style='margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;'> <img border='0' src='http://lh6.ggpht.com/-iUctwHoGnSI/UVWkbdxjw4I/AAAAAAAAAb4/8yYuSx2cUPQ/s640/IMAG0717.jpg' /> </a> </div><div class='separator' style='clear: both; text-align: center;'> <a href='http://lh4.ggpht.com/-dquNr1iIKBE/UVWk071nH3I/AAAAAAAAAcA/o-uNYf9MPoY/s1600/IMAG0718-1.jpg' imageanchor='1' style='margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;'> <img border='0' src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/-dquNr1iIKBE/UVWk071nH3I/AAAAAAAAAcA/o-uNYf9MPoY/s640/IMAG0718-1.jpg' /> </a> </div><div class='separator' style='clear: both; text-align: center;'> <a href='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiivUZz-wK1-eQEwdKcbzg7IzKIbPioKVY8VNfJFkn1Pv3KBN6X_b9Sr7RmsyP23ryECS-MGlXaApI8fFwbGEp-gpiPvH4ydogZXlknzYKYhYmpQrvQ4gCzDyMzKyGyH6c2xYy8bKQVPspt/s1600/IMAG0716.jpg' imageanchor='1' style='margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;'> <img border='0' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiivUZz-wK1-eQEwdKcbzg7IzKIbPioKVY8VNfJFkn1Pv3KBN6X_b9Sr7RmsyP23ryECS-MGlXaApI8fFwbGEp-gpiPvH4ydogZXlknzYKYhYmpQrvQ4gCzDyMzKyGyH6c2xYy8bKQVPspt/s640/IMAG0716.jpg' /> </a> </div><div class='separator' style='clear: both; text-align: center;'> <a href='http://lh4.ggpht.com/-D_9QpFHaxm8/UVWnHDL-t1I/AAAAAAAAAcU/LOMhTlwlRHw/s1600/IMAG0715-1.jpg' imageanchor='1' style='margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;'> <img border='0' src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/-D_9QpFHaxm8/UVWnHDL-t1I/AAAAAAAAAcU/LOMhTlwlRHw/s640/IMAG0715-1.jpg' /> </a> </div>Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331426454255704459noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282702467842425220.post-57075035570525366012013-03-22T08:21:00.001-06:002013-03-22T08:21:53.517-06:00Vernal Equinox<p>Spring is here... A time of new beginnings... <br>
So I make my magick egg :)<br>
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.</p>
<p>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.<br>
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.</p>
<p>And so I begin . . . </p>
<div class='separator' style='clear: both; text-align: center;'> <a href='http://lh4.ggpht.com/-PF3i9C40LnI/UUxo_9wM4II/AAAAAAAAAbE/nhBEpkIHdbM/s1600/IMAG0679-1.jpg' imageanchor='1' style='margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;'> <img border='0' src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/-PF3i9C40LnI/UUxo_9wM4II/AAAAAAAAAbE/nhBEpkIHdbM/s640/IMAG0679-1.jpg' /> </a> </div>Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331426454255704459noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282702467842425220.post-40147181370320836942013-02-27T14:54:00.001-07:002013-02-27T14:54:03.794-07:00<p>I love when I get to start a fresh roll of TP in public bathrooms. Today, I got to do it twice! :D </p>
<div class='separator' style='clear: both; text-align: center;'> <a href='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1pzNjFX78zAbo_2YzJjQMYDuMbdbZh_v0ckn1wvnE-8BI5AkjxdE-WVtO3jYUT1gY1Huy72TdX3TQ52t8WV1zmEP6DqCUg3PvktSH9YWqwRToU8sHJMR8FqfAWqE5DVYN1K7HFv7I5ZR8/s1600/IMAG0664.jpg' imageanchor='1' style='margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;'> <img border='0' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1pzNjFX78zAbo_2YzJjQMYDuMbdbZh_v0ckn1wvnE-8BI5AkjxdE-WVtO3jYUT1gY1Huy72TdX3TQ52t8WV1zmEP6DqCUg3PvktSH9YWqwRToU8sHJMR8FqfAWqE5DVYN1K7HFv7I5ZR8/s640/IMAG0664.jpg' /> </a> </div>Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331426454255704459noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282702467842425220.post-15358846787345157972013-02-26T03:04:00.001-07:002013-02-26T03:04:09.030-07:00Floating pink chiffon.<p>She floats above me in the distance,<br>
her pink chiffon dress fluttering in the winds of time.<br>
She smiles warmly, <br>
I smile back, not knowing but trusting. <br>
Who she is does not matter, <br>
her story must be heard. <br>
I am surrounded by pastel sunrise colors and filled with vibrational joy,<br>
her memories implanted in mine as we share the laughter of a joke told long ago.<br>
I don't want this to end.<br>
But I feel my world pulling me back,<br>
my life gently tugging on the rope to let me know its time to return to my dreams, my head, my bed.<br>
I steal one last grateful gaze at her essence, her story told, her life affirmed.<br>
She fades as the ceiling comes back in to focus. And then she is gone.<br>
But her vibrations remain. Etched into my cells fast and forever.<br>
Floating pink chiffon.<br>
</p>
Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331426454255704459noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282702467842425220.post-39936112443220369482013-01-22T07:50:00.001-07:002016-01-04T17:45:46.158-07:00<p dir="ltr">sometimes my mind only allows me to understand ideas moment by moment.</p>
<p dir="ltr">the only thing that I truly know is this breath, this now, this feeling right here. </p>
Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331426454255704459noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282702467842425220.post-20496442568788569982013-01-06T23:52:00.001-07:002013-01-06T23:52:35.198-07:00January<p>Life is the school.</p>
<p>Love is the lesson.</p>
<div class='separator' style='clear: both; text-align: center;'> <a href='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP2FJDq8rTNao-N04R1iwRHEuna78eDwYaRCNVc2dpGOFyxSJiSD7dhYEpSrKv0FakahmEKx9ryLOJVulWLIU9RQx26JVHwoQTTNgJjFurE0V6JppBkQruMFb8vjVRTUgT8LppLdz_vu9g/s1600/1357541368757.jpg' imageanchor='1' style='margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;'> <img border='0' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP2FJDq8rTNao-N04R1iwRHEuna78eDwYaRCNVc2dpGOFyxSJiSD7dhYEpSrKv0FakahmEKx9ryLOJVulWLIU9RQx26JVHwoQTTNgJjFurE0V6JppBkQruMFb8vjVRTUgT8LppLdz_vu9g/s640/1357541368757.jpg' /> </a> </div>Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331426454255704459noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282702467842425220.post-574747155168407372013-01-06T23:49:00.001-07:002013-02-27T23:32:03.366-07:00Flossing<p>Is shower flossing<br>
an efficient multitasking habit?</p>
<p>Or am I just<br>
wasting time,<br>
wasting water?</p>
Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331426454255704459noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282702467842425220.post-2525705317762974772012-12-23T02:17:00.001-07:002012-12-23T02:17:41.613-07:00Pacific eyes<p>Dip your toes<br>
Test the temperature<br>
Dive right in, go for a swim</p>
<p>The water is still<br>
But the waves, choppy<br>
Constant change, never the same</p>
<p>A container<br>
And space<br>
Vacant, and occupied</p>
<p>A soul's windows<br>
Pull you deeper<br>
Beneath the surface, she lies</p>
<p>What journey calls?<br>
To the Pacific <br>
Into your eyes<br>
</p>
<div class='separator' style='clear: both; text-align: center;'> <a href='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr_BjMh9e2vI5fWPAj1rxZd-EBUBZ0tKgnEx3RGBZeed-fpGunN7K-XpbO72a7ALX3LNoxy8CajLt1J5ibnXYUcRvYVLU-Ov6mXABUeznSGge83wysWqosKQl7H0naynJzYaU83KmpC3We/s1600/2011-04-04_18-08-12_66.jpg' imageanchor='1' style='margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;'> <img border='0' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr_BjMh9e2vI5fWPAj1rxZd-EBUBZ0tKgnEx3RGBZeed-fpGunN7K-XpbO72a7ALX3LNoxy8CajLt1J5ibnXYUcRvYVLU-Ov6mXABUeznSGge83wysWqosKQl7H0naynJzYaU83KmpC3We/s640/2011-04-04_18-08-12_66.jpg' /> </a> </div><div class='separator' style='clear: both; text-align: center;'> <a href='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJTURh0Wk4RRWusKJGDwk0J218BN84jLbWqoR5LLLNSRCZBS6yl-qjur6GjmUvq0z74tChTEI-cRaOFczvq2ir1xaYgmAv47fSZy69cfwNfXhzfsiz2uvjecM-BDPf85AiJYFbBWBQ5uyD/s1600/2011-10-31_12-33-15_184.jpg' imageanchor='1' style='margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;'> <img border='0' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJTURh0Wk4RRWusKJGDwk0J218BN84jLbWqoR5LLLNSRCZBS6yl-qjur6GjmUvq0z74tChTEI-cRaOFczvq2ir1xaYgmAv47fSZy69cfwNfXhzfsiz2uvjecM-BDPf85AiJYFbBWBQ5uyD/s640/2011-10-31_12-33-15_184.jpg' /> </a> </div><div class='separator' style='clear: both; text-align: center;'> <a href='http://lh5.ggpht.com/-cOLDhX9KqZ8/UNbMM6Rn-HI/AAAAAAAAAUY/RYuNTVVqk_U/s1600/IMAG0464-1-1.jpg' imageanchor='1' style='margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;'> <img border='0' src='http://lh5.ggpht.com/-cOLDhX9KqZ8/UNbMM6Rn-HI/AAAAAAAAAUY/RYuNTVVqk_U/s640/IMAG0464-1-1.jpg' /> </a> </div>Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331426454255704459noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282702467842425220.post-30121409987939431202012-12-10T03:49:00.001-07:002012-12-10T03:49:00.886-07:00Bright, Shiny, Sparkling Newness<p>You know that feeling? Yeah, you know it. Those New things that make your heart beat faster and your nerves energize. Your mind fogs and your eyes fail to focus on anything else. Your gut is a little woosy, in a good way. You're so excited about each little moment, and you cling to words, touches, gestures like they were precious gifts. So much to take in! So many details to remember!</p>
<p>They say the best things in life are free... Well, the best things in my life are New. New moments like this. New times like these. New people like you. Newness.</p>
<p>Bright, Shiny, Sparkling Newness!</p>
<p>Not to discount Oldy, But Goody. OBG is just as important; safe, reliable, comfortable, There. But the thrill of Newness often outweighs the stability of OBG.</p>
<p>Newness is interesting, intriguing, inviting. But Newness is blindingly bright and can blindside. And begs for attention.</p>
<p>Do not let the sparkle fool you, there is so much relying on that gleam. So much banking on the glitz. Know that behind every Newness there is OBG waiting.</p>
<p>Newness appears when you least expect it. Out of the blue, poof, its New. Newness is a gift from the Universe because you needed it. </p>
<p>See what Newness can hold for you, what lies within it. Explore the Newness for what it is and isn't. Love the Newness. It loves you! <br>
</p>
<div class='separator' style='clear: both; text-align: center;'> <a href='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVdM-zFXNJ7-1NTZGXu9nrqcY060xyeVpQdn9IQTOIkqDgZbztRXn-50-j2UBhHE2MBluqLFHwmQdtt1tUctSHrK9orkRqodFT6d3uSl73Mz8ZFPlxJ_E-skstsBXMNLl6vZSd63evbZbH/s1600/2011-04-03_20-07-56_453.jpg' imageanchor='1' style='margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;'> <img border='0' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVdM-zFXNJ7-1NTZGXu9nrqcY060xyeVpQdn9IQTOIkqDgZbztRXn-50-j2UBhHE2MBluqLFHwmQdtt1tUctSHrK9orkRqodFT6d3uSl73Mz8ZFPlxJ_E-skstsBXMNLl6vZSd63evbZbH/s640/2011-04-03_20-07-56_453.jpg' /> </a> </div>Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331426454255704459noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282702467842425220.post-58391848825374887082012-12-06T00:23:00.001-07:002012-12-06T00:23:40.194-07:00Move On<p>Move On blinked the snail to the badger.</p>
<p>Be on your Way called the rabbit to the hawk.</p>
<p>Carry on... the wind told the ocean.</p>
<p>Push forth! shouted the Captain to her ship.</p>
<p>Please Continue, the tree asked of its roots.</p>
<p>Relax. You're doing the best You.<i> </i>My father once said to me.</p>
<p>Move On, wayward traveller. Move On, broken heart. Move On, dear friend and lover.</p>
<p>I release you. I forgive you. You are free.<br>
</p>
<div class='separator' style='clear: both; text-align: center;'> <a href='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3lCtAEcHl94Sdt2yCAM3-UvIflZMY5q51Mg8PwvkWTgNqe41gLzGVzvSPR2iyPdadzflsaw3-gMaY2gsX-i3IrlTcXucEyns64U0uPTs2cVfq1wS1Aewr_IHPZvd3uSl80rVjOgMuRclc/s1600/2011-06-20_20-25-52_656-1-1-1.jpg' imageanchor='1' style='margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;'> <img border='0' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3lCtAEcHl94Sdt2yCAM3-UvIflZMY5q51Mg8PwvkWTgNqe41gLzGVzvSPR2iyPdadzflsaw3-gMaY2gsX-i3IrlTcXucEyns64U0uPTs2cVfq1wS1Aewr_IHPZvd3uSl80rVjOgMuRclc/s640/2011-06-20_20-25-52_656-1-1-1.jpg' /> </a> </div>Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331426454255704459noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282702467842425220.post-78155558217701602342012-11-26T22:36:00.001-07:002012-12-06T00:32:30.899-07:00There's some big, grey mass over there...<p>I feel as though I've been blindly gripping the ear of an elephant in the room. Muttering softly to it and myself stories of moments passed and fading memories.</p>
<p>All the while gazing into your eyes...Your sweet, loving eyes.</p>
<p>Wait, I see my reflection there... and... it frightens me!...</p>
<p>Who have I become in your eyes?</p>
<p>So, do I<br>
Change who I see reflected? <br>
Or<br>
Change my Perspective?</p>
<p>Change is inevitable. All things change! Even the elephant. Some days he hears me, some he just listens.</p>
<p>Why resist what we cannot prevent, delay, or ignore? Why, even the butterfly surely must think she's dying before her great transformation.</p>
<p>I look again. I am both persons. The reflection and the witness.</p>
<p>I see again. I love and accept myself exactly as I am right now.<br>
</p>
<div class='separator' style='clear: both; text-align: center;'> <a href='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEibISfoOUKMOeVsuWaGacdxXItk1Y_FgYRHM7EGBFk4aueDpkh-D1grwmAlHQKRVh1TPqeKTIS1JQCXHdOIwB2hoDDb-f4Zq_X9Skahl_k0uoDR0V_-XvMqGiBtdTp3Ugtim0fsCq9qxo/s1600/2011-03-19_03-04-10_231.jpg' imageanchor='1' style='margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;'> <img border='0' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEibISfoOUKMOeVsuWaGacdxXItk1Y_FgYRHM7EGBFk4aueDpkh-D1grwmAlHQKRVh1TPqeKTIS1JQCXHdOIwB2hoDDb-f4Zq_X9Skahl_k0uoDR0V_-XvMqGiBtdTp3Ugtim0fsCq9qxo/s640/2011-03-19_03-04-10_231.jpg' /> </a> </div>Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331426454255704459noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282702467842425220.post-72077785199532595822011-08-01T18:37:00.000-06:002012-11-23T21:46:55.736-07:00Broke a Nail mudra<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: MarkerFelt-Thin; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: MarkerFelt-Thin; font-size: 13px;">I created my own mudra <3 </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: MarkerFelt-Thin; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: MarkerFelt-Thin; font-size: 13px;">I call it: Broke a Fingernail mudra. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: MarkerFelt-Thin; font-size: 13px;">Its easy to do: </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: MarkerFelt-Thin; font-size: 13px;">Hold your hands in front of you, viewing the backs of both your hands, fingers spread. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: MarkerFelt-Thin; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: MarkerFelt-Thin; font-size: 13px;">For each broken fingernail, </span>bend your finger at the large knuckle </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: MarkerFelt-Thin; font-size: 13px;">(You can bend the knuckle for any finger that you feel needs special attention) ;)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: MarkerFelt-Thin; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: MarkerFelt-Thin; font-size: 13px;">Its effects are a deeper appreciation for what you have, the present moment; allows for clarity in the mind for more focusing on slower down, being careful, to be full of grace; a unique, personal mudra, done with attention to specifics or broad, held for the length of time you feel you can let go of the idea of having fingernails and breaking them, all your hard work to maintain them, and remain in the present moment. Creates intimate energetic bond of respect with hands, nails, and ultimately, yourSelf.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: MarkerFelt-Thin; font-size: 13px;">Ahhh.... Makes breaking a nail soooo much better. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: MarkerFelt-Thin; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span>Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331426454255704459noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282702467842425220.post-83988696079158947512011-06-23T02:29:00.000-06:002011-06-23T02:29:15.001-06:00the Uni providesThank You, Uni(verse).<br />
You never cease to amaze me.<br />
<br />
Truly, the Uni is good, powerful, and loving. Like that special someone, the Uni gives me a warm fuzzy in my soul; like nothing is impossible and Love rules all. The reality of Uni is quite different from moment to moment. Always spontaneous, but never unimaginable.<br />
<br />
The Universe speaks to me thru fortune cookies and fate.<br />
<br />
Thank You Uni. And keep it up.<br />
<br />
<br />
{YOU AND I}<br />
~ U-N-I ~Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331426454255704459noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282702467842425220.post-36807092334719338982011-06-18T06:09:00.001-06:002011-06-18T06:09:13.085-06:00This moment<div><p>In this moment, everything is perfect. In this moment, I am perfect. <br>
In this moment, everything is nothing. <br>
In this moment, nothingness is perfect. </p>
<p>Perfectly nothing everythingness. </p>
<p>I am. </p>
</div>Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331426454255704459noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282702467842425220.post-37100723517999408842011-04-30T23:35:00.001-06:002011-06-18T10:14:16.461-06:00isnt it funny?<div><div><p>strange how two extremes can bring such balance. opposites. differences. crave one, moments later yearning for the other. to seek the middle ground is lost, trapped between two beautiful things wanted so badly. extended arms grasp at nothing but air, realizing seconds too late that what wants was never even there. tall dirty drifts. endless deep green ridgelines. concrete, ash, dirt, grey. silence broken by chaos dipped in caramel. I return again and settle between my two extremes. happy to know the differences, wisdom smiling in my heart. </p>
<br/><img src='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_ah7VnKWFcek/TbzxAqUTAPI/AAAAAAAAACs/ntCH7ByhmsA/2011-04-26_19-19-32_117.png' /></div></div>Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331426454255704459noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282702467842425220.post-13041590505436994402011-04-29T00:41:00.001-06:002011-04-29T00:41:52.085-06:00words from mother angelou<div><p>Lyrical poetry is out for the time being, and something that is called rap or hip-hop is in. It is still poetry, and we can't live without it. We need language to tell us who we are, how we feel, what we're capable of — to explain the pains and glory of our existence.</p>
</div>Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331426454255704459noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282702467842425220.post-46434396357015535382011-04-21T20:50:00.001-06:002011-04-21T20:57:28.890-06:00as night settles...<div><p>I settle into the solitude of my mind, peace falls over me like a deep blue mist in an enchanted forrest. I sink into the moment. My body melts away as I become one with the divine. All light within me gives way to darkness. Filled, saturated with wholeness I am the night. We are one. <br>
</p>
<br/><img src='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_ah7VnKWFcek/TbDs5oD_i-I/AAAAAAAAACk/sF9w6n539oM/2011-04-17_19-43-45_691.png' /></div>Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331426454255704459noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282702467842425220.post-43570476651179996182011-04-18T21:18:00.001-06:002011-04-18T21:18:44.551-06:00creating a container of commitment<div><p>dedication shouldnot be taken lightly. when we commit to something, someone, or someplace, we establish roots that dont easily pull up. Knowing that you are exactly where you should be, doing exactly what Universe has planned for you, fills you with peace, love, and reason. a reason to live, to breathe, to be. trust the divine plan, strengthen your roots, create a solid core of commitment within you and allow it to flow over the edges, saturating all areas of your Life. PEACE </p>
</div>Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331426454255704459noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282702467842425220.post-89200879324498446852011-04-14T03:05:00.001-06:002011-04-14T03:05:05.397-06:00Delicious<div><p>"You Enjoy Savory Sensory Saturation" Yesss. Why not? Tickle me tease me taste me appease me, completely complacently courteously. Begin being. Now? Yesss. Explore externally experiencing explainable existence, then go deeper, seek what is out of reach. On the limb you'll find the fruit. <3 xo</p>
</div>Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331426454255704459noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282702467842425220.post-6244030987548299342011-04-08T16:52:00.000-06:002011-04-08T16:52:45.613-06:00peacefinding that place inside, beneath the surface waves and circling storm, requires time. commitment. energy. dedication... and LOVE. thank God for all my many blessings. I AM FREEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331426454255704459noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282702467842425220.post-76284338532316698932010-08-11T23:14:00.000-06:002010-08-11T23:14:43.686-06:00midnight<span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>midnight</em></span><br />
<span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>all alone in the moonlight</em></span><br />
<span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>i smile at the old days</em></span><br />
<span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>i was beautiful then</em></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>stranger things have happened</em></span><br />
<span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>times arent like they used to be</em></span><br />
<span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>i was a stranger once</em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>this time its different</em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>baby things dont change</em></span><br />
<span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>people change</em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>change with me</em></span><br />
<span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>adventure with me</em></span><br />
<span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>i miss you </em></span><br />
<span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>te extrano mucho</em></span><br />
<span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>te amo mi amor</em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>kiss me once and kiss me twice</em></span><br />
<span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>then kiss me once again</em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>dont believe that you cannot succeed</em></span><br />
<span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>only believe that you will achieve</em></span><br />
<span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>just breathe</em></span><br />
<span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>and be</em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>think of me</em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>midnight comes again</em></span>Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331426454255704459noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282702467842425220.post-30570630957428612602010-08-02T00:09:00.000-06:002010-08-02T00:09:57.078-06:00sometimes...sometimes i come here and i just stare at nothingness...<br />
<br />
sometimes the words just cant excape my mouth, or they dont want to leave the safety of my throat...<br />
<br />
sometimes i think that this new day will be different, somehow things will change, people will be good, my life shifts upright...<br />
<br />
sometimes is only some time, and if time is relative and only an imaginary constant, and some of it i grip in my hand like a pencil when i write, too much is lost in time...<br />
<br />
sometimes i watch the clock, thinking of the words, dreaming of that moment, once again losing mySelf in a place that doesnt exist to anyone but me... <br />
<br />
and sometimes i just wait. i can receive it now, or i can patiently wait. the choice is MINE. <br />
<br />
Sometimes..............Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331426454255704459noreply@blogger.com0