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Set apart
The connection loosening
Ties that bind freed
But never frayed
The gulf of change widening
Endless unknowns surfacing
Questions lacking answers
Hanging in the balance
Resting in the flow of the universe
Some plans are not worth pursuing
Better to wait
Abide in the moments
Unfolding
Listening
Learning
Attending
Refraining from tempting fate
Allowing my soul to enjoy this in-between
This holy unexplored perfect purgatory
I’ve been thinking a lot about connections lately. Connections to people, places, things. Ideas and dreams. Hopes and wishes. My life has been beautifully busy since the start of summer. No time to write or read my favorite blogs. I have been out in the world soaking up moments and memories. Even as I write this, I am in between events. ( It’s the Fourth of July after all!)
My connection to my adult hometown is breathing its last breaths. This will be my last full summer before I marry and move to a whole new zip code and climate. Even so, I am not really spending much time at the house. Last week saw me in the mountains with my fiance’ and some of his family. I had spent time as a youngster and young adult hiking in the region, a mere two hour drive from my town. Last time I was there was a decade ago in wholly different incarnation (married with adolescent children). I recall a brilliant and grueling hike-one of the few bright spots that trying summer (see The Summer I’d Like to Forget). The 4 days in my present life were jammed packed with movement in the great outdoors, running and hiking and horseback riding for the girls. We were nestled in a cozy farm inn; its lack of pretense and absence of noise adding to our relaxing moods and quiet conversations.
Back at home, we’re relishing the heat (for the most part!). Late and leisurely suppers in the backyard, a small bonfire, watching the deer and catching fireflies. I’ll miss these things and that southerly breeze that flows in my back window by the kitchen sink.
Today, I sit and write in the heat of the tropics. Funny how the summer’s sultriness here forces people inside for relief much the same way the winter’s bitter chill and darkness does up north.
Independence Day was a just right celebration. A cookout with my dad at the grill, the meal shared with happy strangers who quickly became familiar. No need for best behavior! Amusing conversation was the centerpiece of the day (along with this outrageous roasted pineapple guacamole, YUM!). Later, fireworks at the beach and nature’s own lightning show.
I am still straddling two worlds. The campfires burn strongly in both places and that is perfectly fine with me.
I decided to combine two of Kellie Elmore’s Free Write Friday prompts since I missed last week’s. Hope you enjoyed this complete stream of consciousness drabble!
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Stumbling in a dreamscape
Sleep deprived nights illusively hot
Sweat soaked skin
A body in transition
Transforming and chaotic
Shifting waistline
Squaring hips
A new morning brings a new view
Changing perspective, acceptance
There’s a strength to these bones
Muscles and sinew firmed
Mind honed by wisdom
Struggles vanquished
Evil extinguished
Still, I prepare myself
This new day brought a tremor to my hands
A churning fire to my gut
An inner knowledge borne of past trauma
I dress adorned with a fetching scarf that sings of summer
Alluring and potent
My voice proven right
You’ve been seen once again in that store front distance
Marginally recognizable
Yet grace has given me my covert protector
He whispers quietly and holds me in his gaze
You approach and graze my arm with yours
Attempting to establish dominance
A marking of territory
Such a fool of a man
Desperate and Depraved
Deprived
Lonely but not Alone, not quite
Yet still without awareness and tact
Your false bravado rebuffed and refused by this half century warrior queen
Transcended and Ascended
Fully realized, Divinely Inspired
Living at the Apex of her new Incarnation
Credit: www.bestquotes4you.com
I am at a peak of delight. Unusual for a Monday, but perhaps it came from a rising awareness of being in transition. As a culture, we don’t embrace realignments to our mojo. Instead, we grit our teeth and bear it, or hang on holding our breath until it’s over, or worse, crawl our way to the other side exhausted and falsely relieved. I refuse to live my life waiting for my new life to begin. I will happily admit that I am more than ready to start a new chapter in a new zip code with my beloved fiance’. But like any compelling saga, one must begin the story with a strong prologue.
So much has shifted in one week’s time here; it is challenging to put into words. But it is proof to me that wishes sent out to the Great Beyond can happen if you let your worries go first. As you ride the universe’s flow, amazing things are manifested. I am giving the house one or two last renovations, necessary in order for four young people to live in a healthier space in a year’s time. One that is nearly free of my obvious imprint but still stamped with my positive energy and vibrations. (I tell you it is exciting to keep purging this place of things we no longer need!)
My boys and I have been delivered from the trauma and pain of their father. We came together so that we could grow stronger. Along the way, we were honing our skills as independent individuals in pursuit of our own passions. I don’t know what I would have done with myself if we did not journey to this new space together, helping each other through fits and starts.
In a few week’s time, I will share this house with two others. Two people, peers of my sons who love and respect them. They will be helping me get a better leg up financially so I am better prepared for my new life. In return, I can provide a safe haven. A garden where they can grow new roots in a healthy soil. I have no doubt that we all will bloom and fill this earth renewed beauty.
Today Iam grateful for the wonders and love of others. So with my thumb knuckles to my third eye, I bid you all: Namaste’.
Credit: fineartamerica.com
Sitting here in an early June quiet. The days have finally grown into a full warmth. This late spring surge of sun has distracted me from my writing. We cut grass, plant flowers that will last well into early fall, lay down mulch. Fret over carpenter bees boring holes in the upper eaves at the back of the house (I need a 25 foot ladder to reach them). Douse the paper wasp nest with chemicals before it outgrows the strength of our spray can. Stain the long neglected front porch a luscious mahogany red while noticing that we need new risers. The rails need a fresh coat of white. The north side of the house looks tired. Long winters and years of just plain wear are evident at this direction of the house’s compass. I try not to worry about the expense of repairs and send out intentions of abundance to the universe.
A year from now, this house will be my sons’ domain. Rented with others in order to afford payments. We are shifting gears. Learning to be present in a major life transition. Sharing in the pulls and tugs of the here and now as we move into the there and then. Keeping our eyes wide open while we let go of the old life little by little. We are all making our way into an independent dynamic. There is much to do before my wings take flight. I send out more intentions-ones where I hope to avoid the vortex of panic and anxiety. A friend says “Don’t be afraid to pray for big things.” So I do.
For now, I am staying in this moment. Sitting up in bed, nearly ready for sleep. The house is empty except for me. The crickets are back and the night breeze is full. Cool and cleansing, sort of a northern climate mini spa in my mind. I look forward to refreshing dreams and a new morning sun.
“Listen to yourself. And in that quietude you will hear the voice of God”
– Maya Angelou
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Dreaming
A premonition in my bones
Knowing our paths would cross
The hundred pounds of nails was removed today
Each purge of your physical reminders lessens the load
Creates space
Soon to be crushed in some forsaken landscape
Buried in parts unknown
Or incinerated
Mere smoke filtered first before billowing in the Spring sky
We stood in the same line
One you never shared with me so long ago
Your ensemble makes you look important
But I know what it hides
A man who lacks a moral compass
And possesses a criminal mind
Better not to speak
The atmosphere would be contaminated
Toxified by your breath
False manners emanating from your mouth
If the strangers among you only knew
What you have done and whom you’ve become
But I-I am the ultimate stranger
An alien from a former life that no longer seems real
A happy human now
I laugh at the end of the counter with a friend
Awaiting morning warmth
Giggling at the circumstance
Relieved relaxation
Affirmed in my foreboding
Those damn nails couldn’t hold me in the cage you built
Or was it a coffin?
One hundred pounds laid to waste
Much like you
Credit: www.pinterest.com
Earlier this week, artist extraordinaire and fellow blogger, Sharon Cummings (sharoncummings) posed a question for her followers. At the end of her post, she asked “What is your saving grace?” (http://sharoncummings.wordpress.com/2014/05/20/my-saving-g-r-a-c-e/)
The question certainly intrigued me and inspired me to think about what mine might be. Or maybe help me to further define what Grace means to me. I wrote about Grace in a different context last January ( A State of Grace). While I believe that message stills holds true for me today, I also believe that Grace is a multifaceted state of being. In fact, I thinks it is a huge part of yourself that defines your essence and helps you to survive.
I know that I lost my Grace over time during the course of my first marriage. The insidiousness of verbal and emotional abuse eats away at your identity and stops the clock on what makes you tick until you feel hollow inside. It was only during my divorce proceedings (and the endless post divorce shenanigans on his part) that I began to redevelop my inner Grace.
I recall a moment in July of 2008 when my soon to be ex-husband told me “I hope you scratch, crawl and suffer.” These words were a match that lit my fire. It was clear that he was determined to undermine me financially and emotionally. I was not going to let that happen. The course of events that unfolded over the next few years were tests of my ability to withstand hardship and to stand up for what I believed was right for my own life as well as my sons’. It was by no means easy. When I felt myself about to fall off the edge, I would remember the words that my mother said to me, “Don’t let him break you.”
My saving grace is my tenacity. The positive stubbornness which provides the seeds for stamina and strength. The bold determination to carve out a life for myself. The confidence that I can and will solve problems and make decisions that empower me. And the faith that all will be well no matter what.
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Tori pushed the pedal to the metal as she rounded the curve on the not yet familiar rural road. The predawn air was cool but she had rolled down the top of her jeep anyway. Eager to breathe in the scent of pine and dirt and cleanse herself of last night’s forays and rumblings. She hadn’t any time to shower. With a nearly two-hour drive back and her kids to get off to school and herself to get off to work, a shower fell off the list of things to do.
This was the first night she spent at Max’s place. Normally, he would stay at her house when her kids were with their father. But the modest cape on the suburban cul-de-sac was at once gossip central in her neighborhood and at odds with the passionate love affair she had recently begun with Max. She wanted and needed a separation between her life as a mother and a newly single woman. Lack of privacy seemed the norm once you had children. Neighbors and friends always asking after them and their activities, how they were doing in school. Inevitably, the conversation steered towards you and your interests and activities. That’s what people were after anyway.
She stole a glance at the early spring sky. Sunrise soon. The few clouds a wispy gray and brushstrokes of tangerine. She buried her wish to be free of the chains of motherhood. She loved her children. Aslain and Anton were precocious 11-year-old twins who kept her on her toes. Both demanding and entertaining. Full of spunk. Truly replicas of herself at that age and what she continued to be until her marriage to Eddie sucked her self out of herself.
The ride on this road was the beginning of her new beginning. An awakening and a reawakening. She sipped her coffee Max brewed for her as she attempted to dress herself. For each zip of her fly and buttoning of her shirt, he would be doing the opposite until she finally gave up. They made love one last time while waiting for the coffee to finish. She knew she was half dressed and still moist and she didn’t care. It tasted good.
She shifted into fifth and roared down the highway.
Kellie Elmore offered us the best challenge ever for Free Write Friday. This piece has been stirring inside me since last fall. And it has been trying to tell itself more so than ever this week. Just haven’t been able to get the words down. So here’s the start of something I hope!
You have a story in you. Everyone does. And I challenge you to take the first step toward telling it. The prompt this week can only come from you. That idea you once had. Or maybe it’s that idea you just had. That story that hasn’t been told that you want to hear, it needs you to bring it to life. And it all begins with one step. That first opening line on that first page of that first chapter. What does it say? That is your prompt.
Just see how far it takes you. 🙂
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A light rain settled on his windshield
Little droplets of tears resting at eye view
The April morning more like November
Raw, gray, bone seeping dankness
Void of color
Empty of Hope
Unsure of what he was seeking
He came from another place
Driving down Main Street
His truck making a detour back to a life he once knew
A quarter century ago
Half his age plus two now
His mind drifting to the covenant he made
on this same April day
Did he hope to see her?
He pulled into a vacant spot
The rain growing colder
Pelting his windshield
Sharp pieces of pain
He shivered and walked to the storefront of her favorite cafe’
His eyes peeled for the woman who was once his bride
Too late once again
She remained hidden
Traveling another route
Building her new dreams
Forging her own paths
And breathing a life-long sigh
That he didn’t see her pass him right by
Day 30 of the challenge. Last but not least…
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What once was daunting is now empowering
What once had me nearly on my knees has given me wings
What once left me stoic in silence has made me loquacious with laughter
What once gave me grief has given me the gift of profound joy
What once left me shackled, tied to the metaphorical bedpost
has posted bail and declared me innocent and unbound
What once left me invisible has made me someone worth remembering
What once left me feeling lonely and isolated
has made me feel inhabited in my solitude
and a gleeful player on the world’s stage
Building A Life Of Hope 