I believe in thwarting the devil
The bits and pieces of dark that drag into my day
I used to battle them mightily
Use force and sheer will to get them out of my way
But now I befriend them, it works so much better
From acceptance, I find I have much more sway
This real sense of
Being deeply inside
My actual life
(Inchoate as it may be)
Astounds and grounds me
I’ve longed for this
For so long
I may as well
Be living in Paradise
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
Warning: This woman no longer accepts less than she deserves. At times, may erupt into genuine, whole-body laughter. Has been known to cry when she is so moved, and could care less about what other people think of her. Determined to use her voice and talents until her last dying breath. Interact with her at your own risk. Could cause deep joy and love when taken with respect.
I hold you in my heart
My forever-talisman
No one else can see you
But I know you are there
My scarred and broken one
My deepest, darkest night
You will never know despair again
You will never suffer alone
You are what keeps me whole
You are what keeps me sane
Happiness
Always just beyond my grasp
Until one day
I opened up my hands
And in it flew
Just like that
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 am silk
I am leather, too
Sheer netting
Tough canvas tarp
Sheepskin soft
Sandpaper rough
Embroidered pieces
Trimmed in fringe
Delicate lace
Burlap sack
Thick-fitted felt
Smooth suede
Paper-thin linen
Scratchy wool
And cool satin am 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.
It’s high time to assemble you all
To congregate the many parts of my self
That with which I struggle and push
And that which brings me joy and wealth
The brave, the meek, the in-between
Sit you all aside one another in peace
I promise equal time for all: I love you each
It is time for the Great War to cease
Beyond the Skinny Branches 