I cannot forgive myself for wrongs I have committed, so how do I think I can tell anyone else they should forgive.
I cannot forget wrongs I have done, so again, how can I tell anyone else to do that very thing.
Is it an emotional shortcoming on my part? Some mechanism not properly inserted? More like a lesson still unlearned on my part, a part not nurtured properly for reasons long forgotten.
Perhaps I saw that inability as a vulnerability; many of us developed coping skills as children to deal with situations we had no way to understand. People used us a whipping posts, both literally and figuratively, so we had to create a place where the real world couldn't touch us.
I could blame it on my parents, they are no longer here to defend the truth of that reflection, but that would be less than candid of me.
I could take responsibility for it, now there's a concept, and accept that I did hurt people, some knowingly, some not. I wish I could personally apologize to everyone I have ever hurt, but that's not possible. Nor am I able to 'fix' all the wrongs I have done. As for those that have wronged me, I guess that is their cross to bear.
Having said all of this, I can only humble myself before all concerned and ask for your understanding and compassion. I stand before you, contrite; yet exposed to the emotions that bombard my senses. They flood my field of vision, surrounding me as if standing beneath a waterfall.
I don't know where to go with this....I feel....I feel....I feel...........
tree dancer
Tree Dancer
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Friday, August 26, 2011
A GIFT
My heart was touched today in the most unexpected way. We don't always know how what we do, say or write will affect other people, or even if it will at all. Today I received a gift from a friend that made my heart swell, it was so beautiful. One can only hope that it helped both of us to heal a little more from the grief; we both lost our mothers' too soon, although, she much younger than I. I cried as I read the tale she told, for her, for me, for our mothers too soon gone. I ache for those not as blessed as we, who's mothers were present, but not there for them, mothers never able to break the chains of how they were abused or neglected as children. For those of you out there that survived and became a better parent, in spite of never being shown the way love should work, I rise in a standing ovation of one. I salute you for being the one able to change the bonds that held our ancestors down; for being strong enough and smart enough to say "no more!" "It ends here and now"
Our time here is so brief, cherish one another, be kind, take the time to appreciate all that you have, even if what you have may not seem like a lot, look inside. There's so much there, so much untapped, let it shine across the sky like the Nothern Lights! Thank you my friend for the gift you gave me, and I hope we can share it with others, as well. Be strong, be true and be free.
Our time here is so brief, cherish one another, be kind, take the time to appreciate all that you have, even if what you have may not seem like a lot, look inside. There's so much there, so much untapped, let it shine across the sky like the Nothern Lights! Thank you my friend for the gift you gave me, and I hope we can share it with others, as well. Be strong, be true and be free.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Friendship
Friendship, as in friends ship in and out of our lives? Like ships that pass in the night, friends come and go. Some are brief encounters and the ones we call friends, turn out to be nothing of the sort. They are the collectors, the ones who steal little pieces of your heart and soul, and leave you feeling used and drained. They take from you and never give you anything back.
On the opposite end of the spectrum come the rare gems that we all hope to be lucky enough to find at least one of. It occurs to me I'm blessed in so many ways, having more than one true friend in my life. I'm blessed in the respect that an old friend has come back into my life, a decade passing in between our last encounters. The friendship has held fast, despite the time and space between us; it is renewed, refreshed, as we are with each other. Ten years made into a nanosecond as the joy surged into my heart at the sound of her voice. We now share each others thoughts and dreams on a daily basis, surprising each other with the similarities and life experiences that we have in common.
We admire each others' strengths, and reach out our hands to help through the weaknesses. We know when to speak, and when to just listen and are aware when the silence bespeaks a thousand words. I'm here, I tell her, and it echos across the miles and bounds back to me from across the sea; I'm here, she tells me. I feel her hand on my shoulder when I have a difficult experience to relate and mine is extended to her, as well.
I thank you, my friend, for being there, I'm glad our ships passed in the bright day's sun so we couldn't miss each other. I'm glad the technology exists that allows us to still be close in spite of actual miles between us. Be strong, be safe and know you are loved.
On the opposite end of the spectrum come the rare gems that we all hope to be lucky enough to find at least one of. It occurs to me I'm blessed in so many ways, having more than one true friend in my life. I'm blessed in the respect that an old friend has come back into my life, a decade passing in between our last encounters. The friendship has held fast, despite the time and space between us; it is renewed, refreshed, as we are with each other. Ten years made into a nanosecond as the joy surged into my heart at the sound of her voice. We now share each others thoughts and dreams on a daily basis, surprising each other with the similarities and life experiences that we have in common.
We admire each others' strengths, and reach out our hands to help through the weaknesses. We know when to speak, and when to just listen and are aware when the silence bespeaks a thousand words. I'm here, I tell her, and it echos across the miles and bounds back to me from across the sea; I'm here, she tells me. I feel her hand on my shoulder when I have a difficult experience to relate and mine is extended to her, as well.
I thank you, my friend, for being there, I'm glad our ships passed in the bright day's sun so we couldn't miss each other. I'm glad the technology exists that allows us to still be close in spite of actual miles between us. Be strong, be safe and know you are loved.
Friday, August 19, 2011
Dreams
Dreams. We all have them, dreams, hopes, aspirations; some we bring along with us as we approach adulthood. They grow as we grow, some by small increments, some by leaps and bounds, but sometimes someone steps on them, smashing our castles around us and grinding them into the ground with their heels. They know not what they do to each and everyone of us who silently weep amid the rubble. So the choice now becomes-let them win by crushing our spirit, or become a stonger and better person in spite of their lack of vision.
That what doesn't kill us makes us stonger. I think most of us have heard this phrase, but what do you think of it? Is it a 'kill' in the literal sense of the word? Kill one's spirit? Kill one's dreams? How can a child make this determination, all they feel is as if their world has shrunk to the size of their parents heel. The remnants lay broken and shattered across one's heart, small reminders of once grand dreams.
So we grow, and the most painful memories get moved back into the corners as the room fills with new experiences. They don't go away, the pain lessens a bit, and we move on with our lives and maybe some of the dreams change. Maybe the opportunity presents itself somewhere along the path of life and we're able experience those hopes from our youth. If we can but hold, never let those dreams die away, keep a tenacious grip on the strings that bind those aspirations to us, we will survive. I believe these are the things that strengthen our character, the very things create the kind of person we grow to be.....and, just maybe relieves our children from having to experience that particular cruelty. Maybe the prospect of becoming a pilot, a singer of songs, or a dancer across the stage of life, will become a reality.
Never stop dreaming, nor stiving to fulfill those visions that were such a life sustaining part of our childhood. They stirred our souls as demons worked their dark magic trying to drain them from us; but we held. This day we can stand proud, our heads held high, and know we have accomplished our goals.
That what doesn't kill us makes us stonger. I think most of us have heard this phrase, but what do you think of it? Is it a 'kill' in the literal sense of the word? Kill one's spirit? Kill one's dreams? How can a child make this determination, all they feel is as if their world has shrunk to the size of their parents heel. The remnants lay broken and shattered across one's heart, small reminders of once grand dreams.
So we grow, and the most painful memories get moved back into the corners as the room fills with new experiences. They don't go away, the pain lessens a bit, and we move on with our lives and maybe some of the dreams change. Maybe the opportunity presents itself somewhere along the path of life and we're able experience those hopes from our youth. If we can but hold, never let those dreams die away, keep a tenacious grip on the strings that bind those aspirations to us, we will survive. I believe these are the things that strengthen our character, the very things create the kind of person we grow to be.....and, just maybe relieves our children from having to experience that particular cruelty. Maybe the prospect of becoming a pilot, a singer of songs, or a dancer across the stage of life, will become a reality.
Never stop dreaming, nor stiving to fulfill those visions that were such a life sustaining part of our childhood. They stirred our souls as demons worked their dark magic trying to drain them from us; but we held. This day we can stand proud, our heads held high, and know we have accomplished our goals.
Monday, August 15, 2011
NEVER AGAIN
NEVER AGAIN
Do you remember where you were on September 11, 2001? In just a few months, we will stand together once again, in honor of those lost. It will mark ten years gone by since the tragedy occured, ten years woven together with the tears and laughter, love and loss, each an intergral part of the other.
Many lives came together in those days and weeks that followed, bonds formed, promises made, friendships grown from the roots of destruction; people refusing to give up, tired and dirty, yes, but unceasing in the quest for survivors. We can close our eyes today and those images play acrosss our mind's eye, as clear as the first time we watched them. So many emotions arise; sadness, disbelief, shock, and anger. Through our tears we also preceive support, compassion, love and a tenacious nature to survive, literally rising from the ashes, like the phoenix of legends.
As September approaches once again, we will be reminded more often of what happened on that fateful day. We will again hear the survivors relate their narratives of families torn apart in an instance of madness. Don't turn away, don't just sigh and change the channel. Hear them. Remember them. Honor them in whatever way is right for you. They speak for the ones that no longer have a voice, they have become the eyes, ears and caretakers of words of those we lost. We must be vigilant, we must not forget. Don't allow their lives to have been taken in vain, keep love in your heart for it is hate that drives the killing. Raise yourself up and say, "NEVER AGAIN"
AN ODE TO TREES
An Ode to Trees
Trees. Miracles. Gifts given to us, asking nothing in return except to respect their place in the wheel of life. Stately arms, reaching up and out, welcoming all creatures, great and small. They offer so much: a cool place to rest awhile from the heat of summer, protection from rain, and outstretched limbs to climb to seek out our next adventure. Springtime bursts forth with new buds on each branch, with the promise of new hiding places for us and for out feathered friends. In the fall, they explode with a glorious and riotous display of browns, golds and oranges for our eyes to behold. All through the winter, the firs and pines hole the promise of shelter from the storms and the assurances that spring will come again. Ice forms crystalline structures that sway and dance like translucent wind chimes, even as the snow creates a pristine sea of white.
As the colorful array of leaves begin to fall, the trees' majestic structures stand out as if etched into the sky, branches extended, embracing each day with renewed anticipation of what may come. Each one a unique blueprint of perfection, a celebration of every season, their beauty, as yet, unequaled by mankind.
They stand as silent sentinels, the stillness broken only by the wind as it sweeps through the forests, seeking out each limb and twig, brushing all with it's touch. The leaves make visible to us that which we feel caressing our skin, whirling and dancing, and lifting our hearts, ever upward, spiraling up to the heavens.
We can stand amongst the giants of old, dwarfed and enfolded by the stately monoliths and ponder our existence. Our regal friends help us to keep a perspective on how brief our stay is here on Mother Earth.
Slow down, take the time to grow, I hear them whisper. Draw your strength from the roots that anchor us and hold strong. Feed your soul and your heart with knowledge older than mankind, secrets our elders were well aware f. Walk among these elegant titans, beautiful in any season, breathe in their essence, drink the elixir in through your pores and bow your head in reverence of trees.
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