What is this life
that drags me all the ways
through every shard of splintered glass?
I want to scream at the sun to stop!
Just for a moment,
stop.
Stop shining there.
I want only to wish on the moon
for peace,
oh for peace!
For peace,
indeed,
is a dream
to those who seek it
lifetimes long.
To rest a moment
beyond the race
is the blissful day.
To rest a moment.
To rest.
This moment.
It’s been a while since I’ve been here. Awake at 3:30 am, and really not at all tired, actually.
So I thought I’d pay you all a visit and just waffle for a while.
I’m not sure why I’m awake. I’ve had a very emotional day, perhaps that’s it; I’ve not been the best with sticking to a proper meditation routine, over the past few weeks of crazy busy. For me, a break in meditation usually means that when I do happen to find a nice rhythm, again, the heavier stuff I’ve been carrying tends to clear in waterfalls of tears. It’s lovely, really. I’m more than happy to cry out my pains, especially when I see all the good it’s done me so far.
I’ve lived enough in my life to have found many pieces of the human pie, which continue to blow my world apart, beautifully. On the surface, many of these ‘growth’ opportunities have looked like pain, and yes, in the day to day living part they’ve been painful to go through. But they have shown me things I need to heal, and they’ve also shown me how far I’ve come since I was that soft, quirky, shy little girl who would back out a cafe door at the moment of entry, if the owner looked even the tiniest bit like a meanie. And that feels really, really lovely to me.
To have gone from being someone who has buried most of the difficult things I’ve faced in life, to now be looking at them and daring to move through them bravely: I’m very proud, I have to say. I’ve still got no idea half the time, and I’m still so brokenly human, but life is for living and that’s what I’m doing.
Not only that, but I now have the promise of a beautiful soft internal world to return to when the waves of human nonsense have passed on through. I know the soft girl’s energy very well, now, so when I fully embody the beautiful warm breeze of her, I know I’m home, and I’m grateful. What a gift. I’ll never take such feminine softness for granted.
It’s such a dense and horrible world at times, which still has the ability to topple me (like the bullying post I wrote the other day) but I am getting there, I think.
I should probably try to sleep, I suppose. 🙂
So much love, bloggy friends. You know you all mean the world to me. I hope you’ve all been sailing through your own human waves and coming out shining. If not, that’s perfectly okay. You will shine again. I’m quite sure of that. xx
I am the wind,
and she is the earth
that knows me.
And then she roared again.
Just because.
I am me.
Just me.
Not who you think I am.
Not who you wish I would be.
Just who I am.
This quiet storm.
Me.
There you are
behind a soft, uncertain smile,
surprised that you are loved.
You are loved.
It is your expectation
that has made it seem not so.
You see the world and ask it to hold you
as you wish to be held,
and yet this is not the way life works.
Life will hold you as it holds you
so that you may learn
and grow
and be.
Love is born in the quiet room
between expectation and reality.
Hold yourself in your quiet
and you will finally say:
I am loved.
I am loved.
It is not the darkness
of others
I fear.
It is my own
crimson need
to mould the world
into a shape
that cannot possibly exist,
or remain.
Perfection is rigid,
solid,
stiff.
Life
is the ever flowing river
of everything,
everyone,
every way.
Broken?
Unbroken?
Right?
Wrong?
There is nothing
but life asking questions.
And answering them
as it will.
I am the the trees and the wind.
Two melted into one:
Body and soul
travelling the pink lace road
of heaven on earth.
But did they give you a box of darkness?
Or was the darkness
already inside of you.
Waiting for someone to press:
open.
And release.
I have lived in a great land
beyond time,
beyond name
beyond here.
Where the sun kissed my soul
morning and night,
and my days were surrounded
by honey pink flowers
and tangerine trees.
Sometimes,
I try to forget about that place.
The faded perfection of this world
never does compare
to the sweet milky sunsets
of my homeland.
Still, I visit occasionally.
Still, I suppose I always will.
