Stabilizing

a pillar has rolled back into place.
consciousness is as steady as a beam.

The gaze is calm while looking at the rust, bright lights and dark spots fuse transforming angles of industry into cloth and folds into thin sheets.

i hear a whisper from her heart
her lips are pressed against my chest. i feel warm knowing she is one with me again. She’s curled up inside of me, ready to face what’s next.

i turn to her and thank her for her patience, for enduring what this path and journey really means: commitment.

I’ve never seen her grow like this before, joining in with faith. She clutches onto nothing. She’s honest to the brim. Shes ready for what’s next. So I lead her back inside.

The clouds have broken

The clouds have broken

And you were in my dreams

Courting me with dark wine and

Deep ocean waves, foaming

Sand everywhere—

Your music was soft and enchanting,

Filling my ears with swirls and rhythms

I even discovered I had a dress for the evening

to dance with you under the fading pale sun

Now I am wondering why the violent lightning

Gives way to such a soft sunset.

And, who could forget the hard rain?

5 min or less sketch

I erased once. You can see that.

My drawing skills are nowhere near what they used to be, or potentially where they could have been if I would have progressed with this same skill level as a teen.

But I am 1000% less judgmental about what I create. This gives me pleasure.

I don’t have the time to dive in like I long to, but sketching a little bit here and there is a very welcome slow return to what used to feel more like “who I am.”

Who I am is not me.

It’s a process; it’s looking and feeling, and living. It’s simple. What activity most feels like you? Is it writing? Maybe it could even be walking? Walking would be my second most thing-I-do that feels like me (and exploring) but I have had to forgo that for now. I’m still finding ways to enjoy the day.

speak.

When I woke my voice was brittle—

The words came out,

but were easily broken.

I then sifted through the debris and emptied the sand from my hands, made up of

messages that, when undelivered,

had turned to dust.

With my warm dry hands I gently held my

throat and let my hands speak “you may not know how to voice

but I give you time. I give you space.

Your voice matters. Never give up. Let anyone try to silence you, but you will never again do it to yourself.”

*is anyone else having trouble with the editor? I did a copy and paste of my poem and the formatting would not fill one solid block. I’m not being too picky about format right now, because it’s not convenient to be. It expresses enough on its own.

My tears are touching everything but what I need

My tears touch my cheeks

But cannot spread into my heart

Cannot touch this wound and offer it

Still there’s flowing from both heart and from tears

The path forward seems dusted over

Every prayer keeps me in it for the day

But each day I’m missing out on where my

Heart wants to be engaged, in full capacity.

Moments ease and bring hope.

But, the same thorn in my back remains

My patience has been by my side for 9 years

But the dysfunction cannot be ignored.

I am tethered to it.

Only well enough for so long or so far

The variable “x” has been my one constant.

I want to run and sweat with all the energy I have built for transformation

But I am stuck sliding back in my circled walls so slick I cannot climb

Bone deep is misaligned

No muscle release nor stretch will remove the thorn, no deep breath, no daily meditation, no daily Qi gong wills it away.

Where I want to spread hope, I’m left wanting.

My tears arriving to keep me company and hear me lose my patience.

Enough!

Lessons & Paradigms

It’s okay to step away from the whole “the Universe is teaching me a lesson” paradigm. Sometimes things are the way they are because of a zillion potential reasons. And, sometimes, mercilessly, there is no reason. We still have the responsibility to deal with what arises. But it does not help to recycle the age-old idea because it’s near-neighbor is the concept of punishment and karma. While these things may be potential reasons for why things happen, they don’t express the love and peace and wholeness of the universe—which is the universe’s true nature. I take this stance because the universe is inert, in a sense, and very receptive. There is the peace in the space, in the nothingness of it. It “absorbs” all.

These “teaching a lesson” concepts are not helpful for people who are in the midst of true struggle and dark night of the soul. What people need are Earth angels (and otherwise). They need people who understand and intuit without having to look through the lens of their own struggle (and be clouded by it) but when they can deeply tap into the universal struggle that we are all susceptible to. One’s good fortune should never be taken for granted. It’s too easy to want to fall into the new age “Law of Attraction” and desire for manifestation! While all these things and many others have their positive and fruit-bearing ways, they do not fulfill the need for us to focus on becoming the most healthy we can be so that we contribute to others. And often we contribute to others even while we are unhealthy, broken, and in need of support ourselves. We can do both, and we must do both. There’s another maxim that gets recycled over and over again about the oxygen mask on the plane. Yes, you should take the oxygen mask first, but you can’t wait until you safely get off the plane before helping others. How do we help others? I don’t know. What I do know is that I intend to speak up a lot more about my opinions, my experiences, and what I think is more productive, efficient, and what I perceive as more loving. I’m not doing it in a writerly way, I know. This is all about undressing the writer and being without her craft, just to be here, fully. For the purpose of my own communication & growth. I am a living experiment and I always have been. Those who have known me since my teens and twenties would know this is my consistent approach to living a free life. But, I didn’t get my chronic pain until July 21, 2012. Regardless I use my old toolbox just as well as my new one.

What “new age” ideas could you do without (for a little rest-break from them)? How would you prefer to reframe some of your experiences so that you can better process them? What super powers have you developed since dealing with chronic pain?

Pain in the dark

No one sees this limitation

Living a life in a young body less than

Healthy and able

Than many in their 70s.

How did I get here, for nearly a decade?!

I have not been myself since 2012

My back traded in for a pain factory

with too short episodes of relief.

What I don’t talk about is the hard times

In New Age climes of “you choose this”

I did not.

My suffering is worsened by being unable

to enjoy the delights of the youth that this same body

created.

I will not give up. I will not hide.

This experience is a big part of my life

Until I die.

***

I created a new tag for chronic pain. I’ve been working really hard to get through it for a very long time now and how debilitating it feels. I’m in the midst of it and the depression and anxiety tries to grip at me. I’ve been fighting that for a long time, too. I wrote this to connect with people who also experience chronic pain and who are often side-lined by their experience. I’d especially like to reach people who have debilitating problems while being a parent of an active and delightful (willful) toddler. I’ve done all things and all the energy work and all the healings with so many care providers dumping so much money into trying to resolve this. I even got myself a Master’s Degree in Chinese medicine, studying Eastern arts, herbs, and other management methods beyond that with tips and tricks that never end. I ask you to kindly (and I will delete) withhold any comments which try to offer fixes for me or make any statements other than supportive ones.

The beauty

I never intended to share this, but there’s something so special in it that I felt like if I don’t let it out, the magic will not come back again. And by magic I mean… the allowance!

Your life wants to live through you. If you are judging yourself before you even start, you are missing the most precious moments of your life. This is an energy thing. This is an important lesson. Give yourself a little exhale from now and then and remember– this is your life, but you are not living it for yourself! 🖼

I had never used these pens before. I’m not going to make excuses about how much I think this drawing didn’t live up to my expectations. I adore this drawing. It surprised me! With little to no preparation I made a Mark that will be remembered forever. I adore this gift that I was given, and I hope to pass it on! It only takes a spark and maybe “her” 🔥 fire will be blazing! That is my hope! 😍

Lagomorpha

Hop, hop, hop

in the morning we go

hop, hop, hop!

she loves the rabbit and the elephant, too

we make the sounds of the animals true

and embody them, it’s the way we learn.

after nap, it’s “hop, hop, hop”

and even at night, when dreams yearn.

we know all the names for bunny, hare, rabbit

and she is my inspiration for this springing habit

is not just one day: It’s a “kick off”

Spring has not just sprung, it is still springing!

Hop,_hop,_hop_!

Getty images

Why I write

I write to feel the wind in my hair,

Goddess knows it’s such a mess anyways

with its full frizz why-not-be “cool” dreads, but never quite really curly collective except for this piece and that piece and this piece under here.

I write so I can unjam my mind that’s like toddler traffic mixed-mode transportation with plenty of pauses to get out of the toy car and smell a flower, and have to say hi and bye a few times to anything with a new name I just learned.

I write so I’m not alone, whether with my creativity or lack of imagination boring me into the crevices of the rug on my floor and the yawning afternoons when I’m studying so much and it’s still not enough because I’ve got several more hoops to jump through because no one knows what the end goal really is, certainly not me, and I’m always trying to help people anyways.

I write so I can reach you, hold you, take you for a walk, breathe with you, face you, love you.

I write so my spirit can ascend while my mind is busy analyzing and second-guessing how and what to do to pass the time while I’m in pain or in procrastination or both, and I just need to reach out and make contact with mobilizing words that gets life flowing and unstuck.

I write so that I can find my music or because my music found me and I can’t get that new melody obsession out of my head because it wants to move inside of me and animate me.

I write because there is no me, there’s just the writing and the moving and the reaching and the holding and the desiring and the clearing.

I write to find you. To stick with you, to invent you, to rehabilitate you, to worship you, to trust you, to learn about you. I write because this is the way you like to show up when you are in the neighborhood and your best friend is only as distant as the knock on the next door and the warm entryway awaits, and the meal, and the offerings and the friendship and the feast.

Uncover me from death

How to sing without words?

Much less to write the song in my heart…

Who will witness what cannot be expressed from this life?

Though the rivers run deep one can only hear trickles on the surface, if they care enough to put an ear to the ground, sensing it’s pulse.

How am I to bring this submerged, moving iceberg to the surface?

How can I give you fresh water from the melt?

Why is my heart continually silent in its renewing?

How can I build a bridge back into song?

One day my spring will come.

The birds will sing through me, and I through them, and my alignment will feel total.

For now I lay in the wet and dry soil, hidden, covered and fully in the process of my own death and rebirth, without the hint of the future.

Without the want for any hint of the future. Be it as it may. I have died many times and this time let me come back as my own surprise.

Marika Hackman

It’s been a while since I’ve been so captivated by an artist like this. I love the haunting sound of Marika’s voice and lyrics. She comes from a place of depth and exploration. It’s nice to find a new fascination in her work and talents that I want keep enjoying more of her songs. This is the song that got me started, but there are so many songs with the same quality of soul expression.

I’ve been wanting more people in my life who I can share music with, people who resonate with what I like. What I like changes, but I don’t want to hold back sharing because I’m afraid people won’t be interested. I’ve done that way too much in my life, and I’m calling quits on that. I enjoy music which moves me to the depths of my soul, even if that evokes melancholy. I can easily get out of melancholy so I don’t fear to tread in where these sounds take me. It’s nourishing and enriching to be an artist who explores new territory. I used to be an artist like that. I’m going to rediscover that part of me.

What music do you love but you feeling awkward sharing with others in your day to day? Please tell me all about it.

Catching glimpses of my Sun life

Ka Malana Photography

A lifetime of memories

can show up at your doorstep

and sweep you up in love

like the wind that brings changing seasons

collects the leaves for colorful treasures

to be pressed and captured in scrapbooks and photographs.

We can live in the memory of love

as the wind that rushes through us with intensity just by

that one glance you just gave me.

Life moves so quickly at moments collecting all the fibers of our depths

at other times, still and proportional. Then, slow-silent as snow.

I’m experiencing a timeless place with you right now. It is not a crossroads,

a doorstep, nor a season.

It’s a glorious continuity, a never-ending, undying way for us to collect

ourselves, full of developing smiles and wet-touched by the tears of our trials.

My love is with you always.