Her eyes were luminescent
I saw straight into her soul
All else had been but stripped away
She was left to be simply whole
Her dying body housed a loving heart
And from that she shone and she was
I came to know that all that matters
Is our humanness – our goodness, and flaws
It’s a long haul
The distance from
Young adulthood to
Middle age
I’m leaving my baggage on the side of the road
No need to take it any further
Time to lighten my load
Head out again, open and free
No looking back, just good memories to hold
They play exquisite pieces
The four musicians in my mind
Used to fight them, used to hate them
Now I remember to be kind
Perfectionista, Cautionella
The Judge, The Belligerent One
Each designed and crafted by me
They’ve served a purpose, have expertise
I appreciate their music and let them go
“I hear you, thank you, you may stop now, please.”
Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: quartet
That morning
The earth turned on its axis
And just like that
I was living in a foreign land
It resembled the world I knew
But with you no longer in it
It may as well have been
The moon
Happiness
Always just beyond my grasp
Until one day
I opened up my hands
And in it flew
Just like that
I love to meander. Either literally or figuratively. In my mind, telling a story or on my feet, I find it so gratifying.
Not always so for others. My husband can be driven a bit crazy by my sometimes long and winding way of coming to the point of a story, for example.
I get it. I love straight lines too. There a times I get to the point! Indeed!
Give me a route, I love to follow the way.
But to let that all go: plans, destinations, paths, pre-determined places to end up or problems to solve by this deadline or that…
To simply go where the wind blows me. To follow my nose. To follow clues.
To listen to the guide from within as old as the sea urging me this way or that.
This is how I find the best places. This is how I end up living the most “perfect” days. (Rarely the days I painstakingly plan.)
To sit and let my mind go from association to association, knowing that nothing is crucial but it is all valuable and each morsel may lead to something wonderful.
That is where my creativity comes alive, in the seemingly random twists and turns of consciousness as they dip into the collective unconscious.
Yes, I am a fan of meandering. As long as it is not in the Internet. That is the one place I am best served by staying to a clear intention and boundaries. Meandering there, I usually end up with regret and an emotional hangover.
But a day like today, meandering about Cape Cod. Priceless. Nourishing. Awesome.
I was so relaxed yesterday here in a beautiful old house on the shores of Cape Cod that I forgot to blog!
I slipped! Oops!
But instead of beating myself up, I choose to celebrate this little break from my drive to “get it all done,” this break from my goal of a blog a day, this break from perfectionism.
Just as it feels good to show up for my drive, it also feels good to show up for my need to “be.”
The Urban Dictionary defines “gone fishing” as:
1. To checkout from reality. To be unaware of what’s going on.
2. To drop the duties of daily life and go do something else, something nice.
I hadn’t intended to do that, I always blog no matter what. But you know what, it was nice to “slip.” I think I have always feared relaxing my grip, my drive — that if I do so once, I will slide into some kind of lethargy. Lose all will.
Yet here I am, right back on schedule. Happy to write.
May you give yourself a little break today – some change in your regularly disciplined routine, some shift in your thoughts.
It really is OK. The sun will rise again.
It did this morning.
I’ve been dancing on the skinny branches
It’s been a long time coming
No longer hiding ‘neath the foliage
Or burying myself in the gnarled knots of life
I am ready to fly, put these wings to use
I love the skinny branches, they’ve showed me myself
But the sky is beckoning with winking clouds
And the wind is calling my name
And trees never hold on to anything
So why on earth should I?
Messiness has gotten a bad rap.
From childhood on, I was taught to value tidy and clean over cluttered and dirty.
Being seen as a “mess” is something to avoid at all costs today. There is shame in being seen as messy.
Look at any social media feed. Selfie taking has been developed into an art form. There’s been an increase in nose jobs, and the reason for them? It is people wanting to look better for their selfies! No one, for the most part, is proudly posting their mess. Unless it is an apartment reno in process or a confessional “staged mess” to make a humorous point of some kind.
With such socio-cultural pressure, it is no wonder that I learned to strive for perfection in all things, especially the presentation of my self.
I literally dreaded being seen without makeup or with a hair out of place.
And God forbid I was to have a negative emotion! Shove that way down, baby! Slap a grin on it and pose.
Trouble is, the very nature of life is change. And change, my friends, is messy.
Ergo, life is messy.
It has been quite an unraveling, this perfection mechanism. I’ve had to unpack a load to get to my mess.
And once I found my mess, I had to come to love it.
I will be honest. at first, all I wanted to do was get rid of it!
Thankfully, I have some teachers in my life who are artists. Artists know the value of mess. They helped me understand that it is in my mess that my talent lives.
And so began an embracing. Of my mess. Of change. Of life.
It has been challenging at tines, sure. This is not an overnight process.
But boy is it incredible.
My home is neat and tidy. I am an organized woman. I crave order.
But I relish getting messy and allowing myself to be seen in my mess too. And the most fulfilling parts of my creativity are gloriously messy!
Today, I am a love-able mess living a messy, wonderful, creatively fulfilling life. And I say that with pride, not apology.
Messy is as messy does is more than fine for me.
The light inside
Early on
I learned to dim
Shining brightly
Was dangerous
All sink, and no swim
I try now to be,
To let, to shine
To radiate freely
All that is mine
Beyond the Skinny Branches 