Thursday, December 27, 2012

Here is to Healing

I cannot bear to go
To the places we have been
But it matters not

My love
My lion

For I see you
In every space my soul inhabits

Your smiling sparkling eyes

That engulfed me
While you let me swim naked
Swirling in your limpid pools of fire
They seem now as a dream

Intangible
Nonsensical

It was not logical
Our love

Your heart and not your will
Reside buried deep
Pierced into every atom of my being

There I will keep you safe
Dear love
Far away from pain and regret
Swaddled in compassion

Even as the winds whip past my ears
Howling their judgment
Hurling their disdain

At the truth only you and I have known

Our communion

Infallible

Elusive as a wave upon the sand

A beacon shining bright

My first love
My one love

My thirsty eyes have been opened
Gratitude fills the empty silence
Where your warm spot used to be

I cling to it now in the cold dark night

And will my will to fly
Far beyond these silver winter skies

To kneel again in the crashing waves
With the strong comfort of your
Unweilding hand upon my back








And like the Phenix
She is reborn from the ashes
To breathe fire
Back into the Universe

Monday, December 10, 2012

CREATIVE REHAB

We are good stories waiting to be written. 

In writing and most creative outlets—and art as work and work as life and life as whole—it gets worse before it gets better.
They say you have to vomit first, vomit your demons and your rage, your mediocre beasts, vomit the sinner and the saint and all duality, vomit your ego and your bruises, ’til the house gets so clean, there’s nothing, no one left—but you.
Just like we detox our body from years of malnourishment, and we agonize as all the toxins in the underworld say their goodbyes and leave our system, so it is the case not only with our minds but with the way we face our lives. Our modus operandi for anything is the same as for everything.






And she bolts the door against her heart

out wailing in the rain.







Interior

Her mind lives in a quiet room,
A narrow room, and tall,
With pretty lamps to quench the gloom
And mottoes on the wall.

There all the things are waxen neat
And set in decorous lines;
And there are posies, round and sweet,
And little, straightened vines.

Her mind lives tidily, apart
From cold and noise and pain,
And bolts the door against her heart,
Out wailing in the rain.




Saturday, December 8, 2012

the Viking versus the Victim






The Shields
“Either you are a Victim in life –a sucker or a loser who’s always being taken advantage of or can’t hold their own –or you’re a Viking –someone who sees the threat of being victimized as a constant, so you stay in control, you dominate, you exert your power over things, and you never show vulnerability.”  ~Brene Brown

I have been a victim of physical abuse.  I was thrown down stairs, strangled, ran over by a car, even “taught a lesson” with pillows so no one would believe me if I told.  All of that was humiliating, but I do believe the worst trauma was the constant screaming and name calling. In private, in public, on the street corner, in the vet’s office, in front of my children, on the phone, in the car, it was endless.  I have had nightmares for years that continue still.  So what now?  I've heard it many times over "You just love to play the victim, don't you?" Hearing this from my perpetrator/ supposed to be lover was soul crushing.  Any effort to assert my confidence was met with disdain.  I lived in fear for the last year.  Afraid of the struggle that was inevitable.  Afraid of the growing strength inside me.  Afraid to tell my story and face its harsh reality.  I drug my feet so long and so deep there is a trail bore deep in my past that is seen everywhere now.  It is unmistakeable, and undeniable.  To twist the power of that toxic fate, I shower it with love and gentle kindness. Whatever you do, you will be judged anyway.   If it hurt, tell it!  Never let anyone tell you that you don't have a right to speak out about your pain. Pain inspires change.  When you have the courage to face your own brutal reality, then comes the courage to change the things you can.

Somewhere along the way, we begin resisting.
The reasons are many—including family, upbringing, cultural conditioning, religion and karma.
We resist being love. We resist feeling our emotions. Over time, these suppressed feelings settle in our energy field and physical body. They block the free flow of universal energy.
We begin feeling depressed. Untold stories and feelings become stuck in the body and mind.
We repress resentment, anger, even love.
We withhold sharing our feelings, and by doing so, we punish ourselves and others. We don’t express our fears, our sadness and worries. We don’t realize that, at the core, we are the same.
~Via Rebelle Society

I learned how to cope, to survive I imagined flowers over the face of my perpetrator/ lover/ manipulator.  For no one is ever one thing.  Loving wholeheartedly means looking past the vicious disrespect of personal emotional boundaries.  Or so I thought.  Now I paint portraits of chairs and kicking feet over once well loved cheek bones and freckles.  Self expression negates depression.

Today’s society gives extreme examples of right and wrong, good and bad, there is no grey area, only white and black.  Any compassionate person is empathic to others having a bad day, especially those you care for and love.  But what happens when that lover/manipulator takes advantage of that compassion the way you knew they would?  The only thing they could do.  The only thing you can do.  Fall to pieces.  Hover over the broken shards mournfully.  Lovingly pick up each one of the pieces, stack them together, and float them down the river to pastoral serenity where they and your heart will be restored. Every broken dream has a chance to be reborn,  with renewed strength and a wisdom that overshadows the old.













Ego protects the delicate balance of soul and body.  There are many shields people use to protect against vulnerability.  There is no right or wrong, there is only that thing you do.  We all have our masks, we all have our reasons.  In judging others, we judge ourselves.  I say put down that mask and let your true self shine brilliantly through.  Share your honesty, your shameful story.  It is the telling and sharing that deflates its power to shape your life.  This is your story.  One bad chapter does not mean the end of the book.  You are not the mistakes you have made.  I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, arm yourself with knowledge.  Learn about your shields and why you use them. No one can tell you how to love or who to love. I don't even think we choose it for ourselves.  Love chooses us.  If you find yourself at a fork in the road, remember a fork has four tines, not two.  Unless it is a shrimp fork, but your life is a big hearty meal.  You need more options to truly savor it. And remember,  we are here to love and love hard every chance we get.