painting with the colors past pain

 

What would you do with freedom?
Would you feel free?

Sunny day, driving with the windows down.
The lizard king slithers in my ear stoking an already smoldering fire.

Instead of going straight home for lunch, I make a left turn.
Toward my special place to feed my soul. It burns with a desire that demands  satisfaction.

Ecstatically filled with the song of myself, I park on the side of the road.  There is a muddy walk beneath a small train bridge I found a few months ago in search of peace.

Basking in the warmth of the sun and the crisp breeze of the wind, realization hits me.  A green field next to a cold steel rail.  It is no accident that this place calls to me. Pink Floyd, the blessed teachers.

So you think you can tell Heaven from hell, blue skies from pain?  Can you tell a green field from a cold, steel rail? A smile from a veil? Do you think you can tell? ~Pink Floyd.

Oh, yes.  You have my rapt attention.


The smile she grows to meet the sunlight.

Evo propped up on a rock, I set the ten second timer.  Running with grace in my hair, face and hands turned up to capture my exposure and complete reverence to the life giving mother.

Barefoot, I laid happily at his feet

Rubbing my naked back on each dewy blade of grass

My archer

Brilliant marksman takes his aim

Hand tensile

Anxiety builds in anticipation

Snap of the bow

The arrow she pierces the wind

Passing through sunlight

Furrowed feathers unfurl

Should I now hide my outrageous joy? I see it makes you uncomfortable.

Perhaps it makes you aware of the things you take for granted.
Perhaps the sound of my voice startles you because I have been silent for so long.
Perhaps it is my own vocal chords choking from unuse.
Perhaps it is only me that is uncomfortable.


Yes, that is the answer.  Once I isolated myself in shame of sadness, fearing pity or judgment for my impotence to take charge of my own life.  Afraid to speak my own name { out loud } 


But this is not the same old ground.  Not the same old fears.

Fear, my darling, is a choice.

 

In choosing a life full of love comes an acceptance, a full acquiescence to the magnitude of my potential. In whatever shape or form my soul moves me.  Happily, I surrender control of what that may look like on the outside.  No matter how much I want to blow the thing up, that fishbowl will always be there.


These are my new aspirations:

 

I will sing my amphibious song, my opera, at the top of my lungs.
I will wear stripey socks and my toes will dance inside my shoes while I drive.
I will paint your walls with wind and sunlight.
I will rewrite your love songs.
I will hold the mirror while you shave.
I will knit you a superhero cape, if you like, with crochet hearts and flowers.
I will thank you for thanking me.
I will breathe my fire, unapologetically.  Unreservedly.

Because grace is the flow.   And I am deep in it.  
The water she rushes uphill.

“Grace is wild. Grace unsettles everything. Grace overflows the banks. Grace messes up your hair. Grace is not tame.” — Doug Wilson

Confidence in every deliberate movement. With faith, I paint my world in ecstasy, out loud, with the colors past pain.  Don't expect me to be sane anymore.

{wish you were here.}

Dreams: tailormade lessons from your soul

Hello Darkness my old friend

I have extremely vivid dreams.  Every night. I always have.
This is a recurring nightmare I had for years.



I wake up to a strange noise.  There is a dark figure standing in the frame of the door.  Paralyzed with fear, I struggle futilely to get up.  My body is heavy. I pull at blankets to pull myself out of bed, but I cannot move.  The dark figure breathes. Then, I realize I have had this dream before.  I am not awake. I open my mouth and scream.  I can feel the vibrations deep inside growing until finally the noise comes out and I wake myself up.


Night after night, year after year, the same old story, the same old fear. 


Until one night, instead of struggling to get up, I sink my body down into the mattress.  My legs fly up and I twirl around on the bed.  It is fun, I am laughing! The darkness falls away and I wake up.



A reward for my triumph:  the very next night I dream I wake up.


A tree branch grows out from the wall behind my head.  On it sits a potted plant.  A violet.  From the ceiling extends down a wrapped gift with lots of colorful  curled ribbons. Unfortunately, my instinct over the last five years takes over before I realize that this dream is different.   I scream.  The decorations on the wrapping paper pixelate and start to fall off filling the air with confetti, as I wake up.  My subconscious was celebrating.  She gave me gifts! for finally learning the lesson she so patiently waited for me to learn.

To stop struggling.

To stop railing against that which I cannot change. 

The dark shadow is always there.  I can hear his shallow, panting breath.  I don't have to be afraid anymore. The answers are all inside of me, even in my dreams.

{dreaming with eyes wide open}

"Who the fuck do you think you are?"

As he towered above me,

 

I pleaded on my knees, soaked in tears of confusion for him to see me, hear my words, to feel the strength of my love coursing out to his anger-masked pain.



That harsh reality of his words could have killed me. I nearly let them. Mascara bleeding from my spidery lashes, his mirror was cold and relentless. "You just love to play the victim, don't you?" "Oh, boo hoo!"  Looking at myself through his eyes,  I was hollow, weak, unsure of myself.


Burdened by inexperience, I swallowed every single word. I could not let it go. The harsh brutality of his question shattered my sea glass heart.  How could he not see what was so plain  to me? Why didn’t he believe the answers I gave him? Who was this person  he showed me cowering on her knees?  Where was the strong person I knew myself to be?

"People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that's what everyone wants.  But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person that shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life.  A true soul mate is probably the most important person you will ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake.  A soul mate's purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so out of control that you have to transform your life..."  Elizabeth Gilbert

My first promise to myself:

To do everything, beginning and ending, with love.

Nothing made me feel more powerful. I stripped off my lipstick in direct defiance. The sticky stain did not make him respect me, no matter how dark it was.  I did not need high heels to win his affection. That is when he first looked at me. Really saw me. The turning point.


Everything after that was eventual.  The outcome inevitable. 

Through my love for you, I want to express my love for the whole cosmos, the whole of humanity, and all beings. If I succeed in loving you, I will be able to love everyone and all species on Earth... This is the real message of love. ~ Thich Nhat Hanh.

He gave me a reason to prove my worth, my inner strength. 

 

Not to him, but to me.  Because he would not allow me to feel sorry for myself, I learned gratitude for my gifts of imperfection.  I was deserving of love, pure unconditional love, simply because I exist. I didn’t have to earn it.  From there came joy.


I could not hate him. He was deserving of the exact same love as I was.  I saw all too clearly the pain he concealed deep within, even from himself. I wanted to protect him from himself.  I wanted to shield him from the judgment of others for his mistakes in appreciation for the fire he had ignited deep inside of me.


I was strong, I could do it. I wanted to prove to the world that I could change our lives with love. I wanted to show him what true love could do. Building my new life on a foundation of compassion and empathy,  the strength of my happiness only irritated him even more.  Misery loves company, but I could bow down no longer.

Sometimes you have to realize you can keep someone in your heart, but not in your life.  Not because you don't care, but because they don't.

 

 I was neither weak nor pathetic.  He mistook my compassion for weakness. my empathy for naivete,  my love for foolishness.  The strength and courage it took not just to survive, but to find happiness every day, in the face of  such adversity leaves me fearless now.

Welcome to the Face-Your-Life Society!

I faced my Medusa and conquered her, not with hate or stoic indifference, but with LOVE.  Authentic, genuine, wholehearted love.  I will never be what I was once was.  I will never be what I might have been.  But now I know who I am and why.

With that my ego has died.

 

I sewed up his lips and released him into the heavens tied with balloons. In the hollow spaces my male ego left, flooded feminine spectral light that refuses to be contained. Without ego holding me back, I can turn the volume up and dance filled with the song of myself.

No longer unsure.

 

       No longer naive.

 

                  Strong because I was weak.

 

                               Joyful because I have gratitude.

 

*****

{Rise up}

Edited by Tracy Wisneski.

Smother Me With Motherlove

Her lightening eyes mesmerize me.

I am lost in their depths as she tells me a story.

What a beauty. 

Sweet,  lovely girl.

This beautiful loving girl was borne from my body.

She can tell I’m not listening.

Her eyes flash their electricity to tell me to hear her words.

A mind not yet awake with awareness of what it needs.

Still full of a desire to be understood as a whole.

She is more than blue eyes.

She is more than blond hair

She is more than style

She is more than humor

She is herself.

Resplendent in all of her qualities.

In one fleeting look her spirit reaches out to remind me I am her mirror.

Entrusted to reflect and magnify all of her strengths in the moment she employs them.

 My happy duty to meet her soul to soul.

Our windows wide open and smiling on each other.

Does your family have a SAFE word?

On the phone with Kailin last night, I hear her frustrated voice.  “No, Cassidy!  I can’t right now, I’m talking to Mom!”

My response, “Lena, please remember to talk nicely.”

We have had this conversation many times.  Our feelings are important.  We have every right to speak about them to each other and be understood.  We respect emotional boundaries.

Just because one of us is upset, does not entitle us to step on the feelings of another.

We are a family.  We appreciate our love for each other.  We are grateful for our time and the unique qualities we each bring to the circle.

I hear this adult version of Kailin’s frustration every day.  “Can’t you see I’m busy!”  The one ego frustrated at not being the center of attention, the other ego so excited to share that other things became oblivious.  Of course they did not see, otherwise they would not have interrupted.  

Does that warrant being snapped at?  The answer is a resounding NO.

I am filled with such excitement and gratitude that I have this chance to build my world of compassion and understanding from the inside out.  My daughters will have a strong foundation of respect built with as many tools as I can find to pass on to them.  My journey of self-exploration has become a crusade in their honor.

We talk.

I have heard it said that there are two sides to every story.  I respectfully disagree.  I believe there are four sides to every story. There are my feelings, and my perception of how you feel (or how I think you should feel) and your feelings and your perception of mine.  Sometimes these perceptions may be aligned, but often in an argument they are not.  Each person may become exasperated at having to defend their point of view.  Defensive at being overlooked or snapped at.

Instead of speaking out harshly, in our loving respectful family, we speak nicely to each other.  We talk calmly about our boundaries and have confidence that they will be respected because we practice every day.  “Boundaries” is our safe word.  When it is said it is not mocked,  or ignored.  Everyone gets a chance to speak and be understood. 

The people outside our circle of three are not always aware of their transgressions over our boundaries.  But we teach them with our kindness and respect.  We practice what we preach.  We live it.  And in this way we multiply the flow of love that surrounds us and the lives we touch. 

Hope Springs Enternal

Early morning sunrise peels open my swollen eye lids
Curled up in sumptuous warmth
I breathe in the possibilities the new day brings
Every cell in my body sings out in anticipation
In delightful awareness
I marvel at the hope my own body brings to me every single morning

Hope

It fills me with an electricity that seems to have a life of its own
Where does it come from
It is not conscious
It is not a choice
Yet, there it is

Anguish from the night before is washed away
My fears stolen with the darkness
As the sun returns to shine anew on my heart
My smile

Millions of years of evolution have propagated my instinct to spring alive with the dawn of a new day

If I am the sum of all my parts
The sum of all my cells
Every atom that swirls its energy in tireless motion to keep me alive

It is my duty to heed its song
To allow it to propel me forward
To broadcast my own bright light
As I drink in the life giving splendor of the universe



In that space between my breath
Where my vitality meets sublime radiance
Awareness gives humble respect to the source of all