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.
One Earth.
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Wednesday, October 30, 2019
Monday, August 12, 2019
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......
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......
Wednesday, July 24, 2019
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.
Tuesday, September 11, 2018
Thursday, February 22, 2018
Remebrance
Whispers of a time long since past
tantalize my mind, my heart.
It is a yearning for something seemingly forgotten.
A memory of a language formed before words,
connection with elements between visible worlds.
Mesmerizing rains tickling my frame,
the serene scents racing through my nose.
Where trees enveloped me so to tell the sun to share,
and the moisture filled ground soothed my familiar toes.
Seduction plays at my senses,
your fragrance a warm hug into my soul.
A time where the only light shed in the dark of night,
was the moon and her starlets kissing our eyes.
No more do we venture for the art and communion.
Each day brings forth another vehicle of separation,
where we are blinded by the self, and fear the breathing.
Oh how I weep.
Each dawn brings forth another way to silence you.
Waves of malcontent wash over your dying shores.
Feet pound upon your body,
wrapped so you may not know their energy.
So they may not know yours.
Parts of your body bludgeoned for your life,
while other spaces of skin are no more than a brief destination.
Tears now replace what once was your dancing rain,
The conjured scents now pulverize me,
blinding me to what once was the sweet of you.
Vision is only obtained beneath the shackles of bulbs,
and disparity and numbness are the barges to obtain.
Whisper again, so I may feel your breath press against my neck.
Guide me to heal upon your breast,
for not all is lost to the ravages of this existence.
Mmmm...my heart awakens,
The kiss.
My sight returns to your skin, your pulse.
The tender soles of my feet, enamored by your love,
remembering the conversation of a time past.
One I am, lost in the jungle of obscurity and disconnect,
but One I AM.
Each fresh kiss of the sun sheds a new tremor of hope.
More press their hearts to remember you,
timid though they may be.
Reminiscent of the first song,
in a place where words are irrelevant, and the spirit endures,
I join you here.
One Earth.
tantalize my mind, my heart.
It is a yearning for something seemingly forgotten.
A memory of a language formed before words,
connection with elements between visible worlds.
Mesmerizing rains tickling my frame,
the serene scents racing through my nose.
Where trees enveloped me so to tell the sun to share,
and the moisture filled ground soothed my familiar toes.
Seduction plays at my senses,
your fragrance a warm hug into my soul.
A time where the only light shed in the dark of night,
was the moon and her starlets kissing our eyes.
No more do we venture for the art and communion.
Each day brings forth another vehicle of separation,
where we are blinded by the self, and fear the breathing.
Oh how I weep.
Each dawn brings forth another way to silence you.
Waves of malcontent wash over your dying shores.
Feet pound upon your body,
wrapped so you may not know their energy.
So they may not know yours.
Parts of your body bludgeoned for your life,
while other spaces of skin are no more than a brief destination.
Tears now replace what once was your dancing rain,
The conjured scents now pulverize me,
blinding me to what once was the sweet of you.
Vision is only obtained beneath the shackles of bulbs,
and disparity and numbness are the barges to obtain.
Whisper again, so I may feel your breath press against my neck.
Guide me to heal upon your breast,
for not all is lost to the ravages of this existence.
Mmmm...my heart awakens,
The kiss.
My sight returns to your skin, your pulse.
The tender soles of my feet, enamored by your love,
remembering the conversation of a time past.
One I am, lost in the jungle of obscurity and disconnect,
but One I AM.
Each fresh kiss of the sun sheds a new tremor of hope.
More press their hearts to remember you,
timid though they may be.
Reminiscent of the first song,
in a place where words are irrelevant, and the spirit endures,
I join you here.
One Earth.
Tuesday, February 20, 2018
A dream
Was it only a dream or perhaps something more.
So much, it would seem, calls us. Beckoning us to something bigger than ourselves.
With each passing day it is hard to see it.
The world of humans, cycled into a spiral of self degradation, feels lost in there mindless creations.
Each moment, a chance to steal the safety of our own being.
Fear, a great motivator. Sheltering us into a box of ill-perceived safety.
This, of course, is where the weak minded want us.
Easily we are swayed and subdued. Fearing the warmth of the Sun and the healing beneath our feet.
We muster forward, or that is what we tell ourselves.
But in truth we recoil.
Regress into a conditioned sense of belonging and righteousness.
Divided and lost.
As screens fill our sights, and division seeps into our minds,
We comfort the layers of our existence.
Upon ourselves we hide amongst the production of 'happiness',
Burying the hopes and remembrance of something greater.
Misguided and misrepresented
We fall into conditioning and routine,
Easily we are seduced by false belonging,
False ease.
Replacing the nature of us with physical contortion.
Shall we be destined to be nothing more than an experiential malice, quickly forgotten?
Forever circling the chasms of our fear.
Will this repeater of history, so bound in proving how sentient we are,
be nothing more than a lost page of time floating endlessly through the planes of existence?
Even now, I feel the icy hand creep into my heart.
Chilling the bones of my self.
Darkness, so seductive, clamors for my company.
Perhaps I shall succumb.
Nestle deep into the chaos.
Keep steady and look down,
follow and conform to a calamity that, though it boasts peace,
will bring me to the chains of despondency and endless desires.
I have felt them, you know.
The comforting weight of them.
Like silk spread upon a bed, inviting and beckoning
The illusion of satisfaction only a dream away.
A temptress needing me only to allow myself to me swallowed.
Ahhh...but I listen
Not to the endless wale of division,
the caterwauling of righteousness and blindness.
No, I listen
Beneath the calamity, behind the smoke of despair,
Can you hear it?
A soft tone, barely audible
The self.
The self.
Subtle, soft, consistent.
An echo locator for my soul
Whispers, 'Look up. Look up'
And I listen.
My heart raises her head, slow and trembling
What will I see? The fears that taunt me? The chains that tickle my fingers?
'Open your eye'
So I listen.
And there, beyond the noise, the sun kisses the horizon
Dancing it's light upon the clouds
I can see, surpassing the visions of sight
Exceeding the malice, the endless space,
The light.
A dream?
Perhaps.
But awareness settles into my view
An endless wonder of selfs waking to the call
Separated, only by the distance created in the mind
Glimmering stars of hope in the vastness of ourselves.
The icy hand that threatened to take hold, melts and joins
Communion no longer a mysterious thought fraught with ego
I am awakened to the knowledge that a stormy sky is only that
Beneath the dank floor of decomposition, I hear them
Whispers, outside the limitations of the ear
The seeds buried in the madness, begin to sprout
Roots calling, feeling into one another
Hope renews on the waves of shadow
This is all
Brief flickers of light coalescing into flame
The nightmare from which I awoke to the dream in which we are
Unity, not only with one another, no longer a word,
but a reality, out stretched by the disadvantages of our eyes
Pulses of energy
From a place where language, as we know it, does not exist
We are birthed
Into a creation we have contorted,
We will flounder
In this cataclysm, onward we will forge the remembrance
Creation itself,
Free to encompass, to see, to listen,
To create that in which we dream we are.
One Earth.
So much, it would seem, calls us. Beckoning us to something bigger than ourselves.
With each passing day it is hard to see it.
The world of humans, cycled into a spiral of self degradation, feels lost in there mindless creations.
Each moment, a chance to steal the safety of our own being.
Fear, a great motivator. Sheltering us into a box of ill-perceived safety.
This, of course, is where the weak minded want us.
Easily we are swayed and subdued. Fearing the warmth of the Sun and the healing beneath our feet.
We muster forward, or that is what we tell ourselves.
But in truth we recoil.
Regress into a conditioned sense of belonging and righteousness.
Divided and lost.
As screens fill our sights, and division seeps into our minds,
We comfort the layers of our existence.
Upon ourselves we hide amongst the production of 'happiness',
Burying the hopes and remembrance of something greater.
Misguided and misrepresented
We fall into conditioning and routine,
Easily we are seduced by false belonging,
False ease.
Replacing the nature of us with physical contortion.
Shall we be destined to be nothing more than an experiential malice, quickly forgotten?
Forever circling the chasms of our fear.
Will this repeater of history, so bound in proving how sentient we are,
be nothing more than a lost page of time floating endlessly through the planes of existence?
Even now, I feel the icy hand creep into my heart.
Chilling the bones of my self.
Darkness, so seductive, clamors for my company.
Perhaps I shall succumb.
Nestle deep into the chaos.
Keep steady and look down,
follow and conform to a calamity that, though it boasts peace,
will bring me to the chains of despondency and endless desires.
I have felt them, you know.
The comforting weight of them.
Like silk spread upon a bed, inviting and beckoning
The illusion of satisfaction only a dream away.
A temptress needing me only to allow myself to me swallowed.
Ahhh...but I listen
Not to the endless wale of division,
the caterwauling of righteousness and blindness.
No, I listen
Beneath the calamity, behind the smoke of despair,
Can you hear it?
A soft tone, barely audible
The self.
The self.
Subtle, soft, consistent.
An echo locator for my soul
Whispers, 'Look up. Look up'
And I listen.
My heart raises her head, slow and trembling
What will I see? The fears that taunt me? The chains that tickle my fingers?
'Open your eye'
So I listen.
And there, beyond the noise, the sun kisses the horizon
Dancing it's light upon the clouds
I can see, surpassing the visions of sight
Exceeding the malice, the endless space,
The light.
A dream?
Perhaps.
But awareness settles into my view
An endless wonder of selfs waking to the call
Separated, only by the distance created in the mind
Glimmering stars of hope in the vastness of ourselves.
The icy hand that threatened to take hold, melts and joins
Communion no longer a mysterious thought fraught with ego
I am awakened to the knowledge that a stormy sky is only that
Beneath the dank floor of decomposition, I hear them
Whispers, outside the limitations of the ear
The seeds buried in the madness, begin to sprout
Roots calling, feeling into one another
Hope renews on the waves of shadow
This is all
Brief flickers of light coalescing into flame
The nightmare from which I awoke to the dream in which we are
Unity, not only with one another, no longer a word,
but a reality, out stretched by the disadvantages of our eyes
Pulses of energy
From a place where language, as we know it, does not exist
We are birthed
Into a creation we have contorted,
We will flounder
In this cataclysm, onward we will forge the remembrance
Creation itself,
Free to encompass, to see, to listen,
To create that in which we dream we are.
One Earth.
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