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Gently into water

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The thing is … lately I feel like I’ve been ‘wrapping things up’.

Letting those who mean something to me know it.

Giving back treasured memories of the past to the people they belong to.

My writing has not been good lately.

I know it.

My positive attitude has taken a turn.

I know this too.

I know it – and don’t have the energy to change it.

I’ve reached emotional, physical and mental exhaustion.

_____________________

 

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Someone received an arrangement at work a couple of weeks ago – and I became caretaker.

The vase was bursting with vibrant color and fresh cut blooms.

As they faded and withered, I removed them.

One by one.

I kept doing this – refusing to throw them all out because some part of the whole had passed on.

It came down to one stemless flower this past week.

I found the smallest container I could, and placed it gently in the water.

I couldn’t find it in my heart to throw it out while it still had some life in it.

While it still looked so beautiful.

It wasn’t finished.

_____________________

Contrary to this, I found my pen writing the most obscene sentence in my own diary last week.

That I had been having fleeting thoughts of death.

Mine.

Thinking that perhaps all that I was here to do had been done – and all that I hoped for might never be.

Perhaps not meant to be.

And that ink bled out onto the page with such rawness and so bravely – that I allowed the pen to finish the sentence.

And I’m not ashamed.

Because thinking of things does not make them so.

And because allowing myself to admit something so dark, even to the pages of a book no one will read – shocked me necessarily.

_____________________

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I find the smallest light I can find – and gently place myself in it.

I give my soul water – salty – and shed when I am alone.

I continue to share my memories with those who made them with me.

I don’t stop telling people how important they are – how loved.

And I steady myself for what the future might hold – and know that I’m strong.

 

 

 

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Beautiful lady, beautiful poem

I follow an amazing blog written by a friend I used to go to High School with.  You can find it on the right under Blogs I follow – Everyday Asperger’s.

I’m also friends with Sam on Facebook and she had posted a video of her reading a poem today.   My favorite part (other than the amazing poem) was at the beginning, she was a little self-conscious on camera and said ‘I hate my mouth’ immediately followed with affirmations to put herself into a positive place,  ‘I love my mouth, I love my mouth’.

This lady inspires me.  She moves me.  She exudes love and light.  She is someone I would put on a list of personal heroes should I ever be called to write such a list.

Sam was (and still is) gorgeous, warm, funny, bright, generous and so very sweet.  She was the popular girl without the attitude.  The cheerleader who really had spirit.  (‘She had spirit, how ’bout you?!’ sorry – couldn’t resist LOL!)  And man, could she nail her straight arms and lines – I was on the Varsity cheer squad and she was a Song Leader (I believe that’s right?  It’s been so long.).  Sam was kind to everybody.  You could look at her on the outside and never for one second believe that she ever experienced adversity or sorrow, ever struggled nor knew pain.  Sam exuded joy. 

If we had never reconnected, I would never have had the chance to tell her this.  But I am blessed to have had the opportunity. 

You know that email that floats around – it’s something along the lines of (and I’m SO paraphrasing here) ‘there’s at least one person that thinks of you that you’ll never know about, one person that loves you, one person … etc.’ I’m so blowing it, but I hope you get the point. 

Sam was someone who crossed my mind occasionally, she made that much of an impression on me. And she would never have known that had we not reconnected.

I digress.  Without further ado, here’s her poem, re-printed with her permission.  This brought tears to my eyes, more so after an especially sweet compliment about my spirit from someone I look up to on my spiritual journey.  My friend, Samantha Craft. 

“Dear Soul of Mine ~

I love you. I see you. I hear you. I believe you. I believe in your experience and perception. I believe in your efforts and hopes. I know you. And I adore you. There is nothing you can do or say that will change this. I have the potential to love you in all seasons, through storms and through merriment. I will not leave your side, nor your heart. I am you. You are beautiful. And because you are so beautiful, a spring of fresh light and goodness, I shall always love you. There is only pureness in you. I choose this. I choose to see the glorious child you are. I see through that which is not you. I see into your true form, and this makes me weep with joy. How lovely you are, in all your seasons, in all your ways. How perfectly lovely, my adored one.”

©Samantha Craft

“Dear God”

I have the Sarah McLachlan song going through my head having typed the subject.  I’m singing in my head ‘… hope you got the letter and I pray you can make it better down here.”  I do that.  Everything tangents off into a song for me, or song prompts a movie.  But that’s not what this is about. 

I woke up last night thinking about prayer. 

My prayers have changed. 

I brush my teeth, I hit my knees and I bow my head and say ‘Hi’.  Always I say ‘Thank you’.  But what used to be a laundry list of requests and specifics has become one phrase I say every night. “God bless all those in my heart, on my mind and in the world”.  Then I’ll toss in ‘and God bless Butters’ because she’s usually staring at me inches away waiting for her bedtime ‘cookie’.

Why do we pray? 

I crack up sometimes wondering if we really believe God hasn’t noticed some one or some situation needs his attention.  And if he does need that pointing out, then clearly he’s not powerful enough to do anything about it!

But he doesn’t need us pointing anything out does he.  He’s not off busy doing something and not aware that someone is tugging at his shirt waiting for their prayer to be answered.

Infinite.

As for: “Oh, he has far more important things to worry about”.  Maybe when we say that we’re realizing perhaps this ‘thing’ that we’re worried about isn’t so earth shattering.  But I’m pretty sure whatever God you pray to can multi-task.

In my opinion, Prayer is for us.  A realignment.  Focusing our energy toward others or a goal.  Experiencing humility. 

I draw power from sending out light and love to others.  I stay grateful telling a power greater than me ‘Thank You’.  And I know that prayers are answered. So I’ll keep doing it. 

‘Blending in with the desert’

My ghostly man amongst the cacti. It’s sunset and he’s very, very still.  A desert meditation?

The transparent version

This one was fun to do.  Involved wax, watercolor, and acrylics & using the front and backside of the paper.  Oh, and artificial light.  Love this one.  I think it’s the first piece I’ve photographed and thought – ‘wow … ok, that’s actually good’.