To do or not to do....

I've been struggling. The struggle between compromise and what my heart, no, what my Soul is saying. I am in a small band of four. For instrumentals we consist of one talented guitarist and a gifted drummer. Music choices are tight, opinions abundant. We have one consistent criticism and that is we don't do enough sing along songs. You know, the songs that most people would know.
I get it, truly I do.
I love rediscovering my voice. When I was finally given the opportunity to play, it was not only a shock to my friends and family, but a shock to me as well! I had spent my school years in choirs and group vocals. Blend, blend, blend. Sound as one. So when I could let that thought and conditioning go, I awoke to a freedom and a Soul call that was only a barely audible whisper in the static of life. I knew then that what I needed, what I was being called to do, was to feel through music that moved me in some way. Music that resonated with my Soul. The more joy, heartache, and everything in between that I feel with a song, the broader my reach. Above all else, the more healing, love, opening and authenticity is sent forth. Unlike many, I don't sing to hear the sound of my own voice, to be the center of attention, I do it for a purpose. A purpose that is truly incommunicable through words, and I trust that.
It's not that I don't enjoy the hits of my past, I do. I love all music, but I am also keenly aware of what our instrumental situation is, and how often we allow judgment to cloud our vision of how a song can be reworked. I am also aware of the need to please.

So, now I stand on the precipice. Satiate criticism, remain creatively contained, or lead with my heart.  

To Release is to Grieve

Two years.
Two years I have let myself fall into the shadows of disrepair.  I allowed the feelings and the thoughts of, resentment, disappointment, heart ache, anger, general malaise grow and fester within my heart. Hopelessness, loneliness and discontent enveloped and wrapped their arms around me. I hadn't felt that way in a long time. So why now? Probably because I find myself back in the thick of a similar forest, but with different trees.
Also, to grieve. It is a grieving process. All realization and release is. When we are letting go of the emotional hands we hang onto for false safety, we grieve for what we once thought were the arms of safety. It's like carrying on with a toxic friend just so you don't have to be alone. I had to allow myself to let go of all the hopes, dreams and expectations of what I wanted my family life, my marriage, and most importantly myself, to look like, because I wasn't sure what I even wanted it to feel like. I did know that I didn't want to feel like this. Lost and stuck, frustrated and lonely, defeated and resigned. Watching the home become the house. The sense of rejuvenation and sanctuary upon returning at the end of the day, have turned into the mornings of relief to be heading out. I had to take accountability for my part in the process, but I had to quit harboring the actions and choices of everyone else. I can only work on myself, but sacrificing my own well being for the sake of not stirring someone else's demons? Not anymore. 
Growth and realization is a heart wrenching experience. It's not all flowers and bird songs.  In the process of awakening to my own self worth, discovering my own power and light and letting that come forward, all the other crap came forward as well. 
Elevating and widening my own growth and understanding, had me revisiting points in my past to yield deeper lessons, and habitual patterns. Patterns of blame, responsibility, blame, responsibility. Knowing that being in a place of blame only takes away my power, I had flipped to other end. I blame(d) myself for everything. Taking responsibility for your life reclaims your power, right? Yes, until you take responsibility for everyone else too. I began taking the blame upon myself for the (in)actions of others. It's all my fault. If only I had been more open, more understanding, have more patience, less wanting, less independent, less visionary, less optimistic and more realistic. What is wrong with me? Why can't I just be satisfied with 'it could be worse', instead of seeing and craving and inviting what I need and the potential of what that could be. Somewhere I thought that taking blame equated taking responsibility.
And that is where the dance of continuing my own growth and trying to supporting another who is unwilling, comes in. I know it is not my job nor my place to shape someone into my vision of them. I know I can lead a horse to water, but I can't make them drink. I know that it is no less courageous to stay on the same hamster wheel as it is to jump off. I know we all have our own divine timing. That's not so much the problem. How does a river continue to flow when two sticks are added the dam for every one that is removed? I've spent years  placing wood into a fireplace trying to keep a house warm, while the doors kept being left open. How do I keep myself warm now that the wood shed is empty and the embers have lost their glow? 
Perhaps the heat never really came from the fireplace. Maybe it has always been that effervescent voice that breathed into me an optimism and vision of hearth that warmed me. An image that has always required that I see myself beyond that which feeds the flame, but as the flame itself......
 

 

Autumn

Autumn

Lorraine, as fall blesses us with her warmth and love, so have you touched and warmed our hearts.

I miss you.

One never knows when a fall breeze will arrive,

tickling our senses and loving us to be.

We cannot know the full reasons for why we are touched,

but touched we are.

Autumn reminds us of connection,

the rhythmic cycle of life.

She shows us the colours that breathe.

Subtle and muted, but strong.

She shows us the weight of our actions,

without words or malice.

Roots buried deep from our sights,

still vibrate with the continuance of life.

Leaves, braced for their final surrender,

teach us the magnitude of our presence.

We will to hold fast to summers furor and heat.

She shows us our futility in all such matters.

Changing landscapes after all, echo with promise.

A mere inhalation of the song before the close.

Eloquent and stately, she looks on.

A vision of synchronized endurance.

In her short duration, she blesses us with a taste of all aspects,

for all her sister seasons wish to play in her sovereignty. 

Reserved wisdom placed for all to see,

but savoured by a few who are willing to harvest.

You see, Autumn allows us the moment of reflection

before the deep slumber.

A revisitation of all we thought we knew,

and all we wished to know.

Her breeze, you see, is a reminder of the fragility of our nature,

but also, the blessing of our own presence upon her.

Autumn, whispers to us before the recline of summer,

and her compassion soothes us into the repose of winter.

She, Earth in purposeful motion,

She, a life in colour.

And that was her.

An equinox of fall, the season that embodies them all.

A bountiful harvest,

vegetables begging to be enjoyed and leaves dancing in colour.

The last of alfalfa still blooming,

nourishing the bee before the hibernation.

Cool crisp mornings,

lending to the warmth of an Indian summer.

The cresting of winter,

snow gently kissing the ground.

She was Earth in all her glory,

She was Autumn, the noblest of seasons.

Opportunity

Opportunity

The beauty of life is unmistakable.

There is nothing to compare it to.

We look out our window,

the leaves of trees have yet to open,

wrapped up tightly in their pods.

One brief blink and there they are,

open to receive the song of sun and rain.

Much like the first spring buds, we are.

The only true difference is the availability of option.

At every opportunity we can discern to keep ourselves cocooned,

suffocating out the light and nourishment needed for expansion.

Frozen in an endless winter sleep.

We also have the ability to surrender and unravel our breath,

sensing and riding unforeseeable compass.

Springs’ curious companion.

Neither is a definitive path,

nor do they fall into any regulations of correctness.

Unlike our deeply rooted ancestors,

we can unfold, cocoon, unfold, and cocoon as many times as we allow.

We are unbound by the forces of earthly nature,

free to ride the waves of human experience.