Tag Archive | mistaken beliefs

Arms Of Another 

When you touch my bare skin what do you feel? Is it the softness, bathed in gentle wafts of lavender and silk, or the dry hand of the sun from noon…

Do you smell the scent of summer upon the air when I walk by? Or the sweat of lust against my brow and cheek.

What do you see when you look into my eyes? Friend, beauty, lover?
And when you grasp my hand and lead me giggling about the room do you sense my heart beat, do you feel the flush upon my skin?

Are you with me in this moment when together we are twined about the moon. Or am I alone… whilst you look out unto the night, wandering in a world that I can never walk into.

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Combatant Of The Night

I trudge forward now, dropping pen and ink. Left to float are pages of thoughts and sorrows to drift and dwindle in the lamp lighting my way. A soldiers woes and tales of memories long past pouring forth with a whiplashing of wounds, reopening to glare at me in my humbled state… Nothing left but to turn a new leaf over now… nothing left.
I stand aside and let the waves roar upon the sky, I stand aside and watch the lightning strike the earth. Water ruined clothing clings about my feet and I stand, though weeping, I stand and stir not a lie. “The world is a devil if ever I saw one.” My mind thus cries, claws tearing from the frothing sea, long spindly fingers of darkness so near I can hear her breath, soft and moaning so near, so near.
I grasp tightly to the last scrap within my hand, one more heartbeat, is there time? I cannot find a wisp of thought worth sealing, not a thought worth leaving. I’m staring out into hells night with the water pouring over me both from the skies and the sea, the mother of all nights… Why, why must it be? I feverishly turn my eyes upward and shake my fists as the thunder pounds upon me, ears ringing, mind swimming.
My knees cold and broken meet the concrete, puddle torn, cobble crossed path I shortly stood upon, blood sore and frozen. No time… There was never time and now she must be paid. I weep with the night, that swollen moment of a night, never forgotten in my mind.
Paper crushed between my fingers and spinning down, down. Am I lost? I wonder, watching the frantic paddle of a seagull turning, tossed from wave to wave like seaweed attempting to find shore. “Am I but to shrivel up here, in the now awakened time of everlasting mourning?” Greyness, greyness and the roaring green black tide… “That is but me.” I think aloud as I watch the seagull cry, its feathers drenched it spins and spins… Will it forever be such? One long storm, thoughts and feelings intertwined and a scattering of paper like leaves upon the brimming winds and turning tides.
Not a question, no, not at all, this a knowing. Within my soul I feel it calling and I must stand on those water washed toes and meet the anger of the sky. My fist is raised, “I shall fight!” Always, always… As the dawning sparrow cocks her head at me I nod, she knows, she sees the morning rise of daylight speaking.
I sigh. To trudge towards my cove, cozy by a warm fire. Yes, tomorrow comes and I am still here, here walking like a solider within the night.

 

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The Dreamer & The Fawn

My grandmama (on my mother’s side) wrote a beautiful poem about a young man from long ago and a love that they shared yet was never spoken of. It stays with me, here and there I’ll see it among all her writings, letters and stories. When I think of it, as I find myself now, I always wonder why… why they never told each other how they truly felt? Never the right time perhaps? Something or someone always getting in the way? I suppose I’ll never really know… I can only hope that now on another plain they have found a way to exchange soft words and not far off glances, glances inevitably blocked by “the timing just isn’t right.”

Does one ever truly have the courage to risk breaking friendships that are so elegantly intertwined? Those that seem to stay in a land where time stands still, each moment filled with laughter and promises of forever never coming to pass.

The poet who speaks with flowers and words scripted upon stones hidden far away. But is it only a romantic fantasy? A stable boy finding his way to the princess, though worlds keep them long apart.

How do we dream up such things? Is it not because of the heart. The heart which through shadow and dark passage can only speak the truth, untainted by jealous thought and fear, the heart a peaceful warrior always steady, always strong. The candle in the wind.

“Bring me a rose any day and smile sweetly, I’ll remember, through star cast nights when the winds whisper ‘always and forever’, I’ll remember…”

“Wait for the pass to open when winter is finally gone, but be wary, sweetheart, of waiting far too long. The spring will come then go, the grass will weave and frosts not so tender hand will grasp and tear, another winter has come and for what? To leave one waiting… and springs perfect timing yet again to come, missed, now gone…”

For all my thought-filled wanderings I’ll leave your mind to play with this.

Be wary sweetheart. ‘Alone’ is ‘long’, when robbed of ‘A’, ‘E’ and followed by ‘G’. … and love is hardly this sensible… Be it always tender and strong.

-Said the wayward dreamer to the fawn.

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Breathe

Sometimes it is a scary step to take in making yourself important enough to do what is best for your highest good, often we can’t hear what that is because we are too confused by the buzzing.

Sit in the silence, you know what you need to continue your journey. One step at a time.

Go walk, dance, meditate, shut out the noise of the outside world and focus on you. Then throw that all out the window and just be for awhile. Don’t over analyse, don’t do the ‘what if’s’, running them over and over again until you are so tired you wish you could crawl under a rock and it would all just go away…

Let go of controlling the outcome of the situation, trust that you are taken care of, you can’t control everything…  and the universe is supporting you, the universe has a plan…. everything happens for a reason.

You are going through this for a reason, there is something to learn, we may not know what that is and we may have to go through it another billion times, eventually something will click, if only for a short while and there will be relief.

The only person who truly knows what is best for you is you.

You already know what your truth is, you will either choose to ignore that and continue on, or you will make changes to align your life more with whatever your truth is! It can take years, you will know your pace, you will know what you need to do to follow your purpose, whatever that is!

Trust yourself, everything is going to be okay.

What is your inner self trying to tell you? What can you do to better hear what it is saying?

Are you happy in your life? What changes can you make?

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Breathe deep, you are not alone.

Will-o’-the-wisp

~ Will-o’-the-wisp ~

Where she stood seemed strange, even unnatural, as if the wind blew from directions that never before had passed her by. Yet there she stood all the same, upon a peak surrounded by valleys that tumbled and wove like a loom being strung, complex and fascinating.

The air was rich with flavours that promised new and exciting experiences, could she follow them into this unabridged land, could she dare to go where she had never before been? A question for which only she held the answer… And without stepping forward forever she would stand there, wondering just what lay ahead, risk and all. And so… to stay still seemed just as impossible as moving forward did…

If you ask the sea to stop moving can it? It would go against nature, against the natural laws, so too must we move or forever be trapped within our minds, constantly wondering, what if… The forever, daunting “what if”.

Is it our own mistrust in ourselves that keeps us here? Are we forever following a will-o’-the-wisp, hoping to catch it, to hold it and know for certain that our steps are not faulty? Is it all just an illusion, are we the masters?

Or simply just the slaves…

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Human feelings hurt and that’s ok.

The pain of lost love is something that we are all familiar with, on many different levels, there are many different kinds and all of them hurt with a red hot sting… branding our hearts and leaving us scarred.

It never heals, nor does it ever go away. Not completely, we learn to deal, to cope, put it aside, lock it away, forget it until a rainy day when we are alone and all we can do is stare out that rain covered window and drift into memories of the past.

It’s no secret, we all pretend but the oh so human emotions are indeed always there, ever so often to peer at us and remind us that we are in fact human and it is ok to feel.

It isn’t easy to feel, feeling isn’t always nice, hardly pleasant! But it is there and sometimes we need to look at it to remember our vulnerability, to remember that once we loved and once we were loved in return.

When faced with a chance to feel love again sometimes the last thing we want to do is look at it… What if like before it leaves us? For whatever reason it escapes our grasp. Perhaps it wasn’t our fault, perhaps it had nothing what so ever to do with us, but it did leave us and now we have to look at it again and put trust into the hands of someone who could throw it away and then once more we’d feel that sting.

Can anyone truly say when to trust again, when to allow your palm to be grasped by another, when are you ready? Well if there was an answer to that someone would have a lot of money right now!

Eventually we must trust again, must reach out because that slightest glimmer of hope may be there, in the distance, cast in shadow and doubt but still there, lingering, waiting, watching until we open our palm once again.

To fall into our sorrow for always is soulfully sorrowful! A tragedy to the utmost! The chance of love of any kind is there, it is always there, we must hold a torch for it, must keep a shred of hope otherwise we are forever fumbling in a sort of deathly cloud that we allowed to fall onto our own head.

There is no one to blame any longer but ourselves. Yes someone hurt us and yes that was a truly terrible thing, but it happened and to hang onto it for all time is to neglect that part of you that deserves to feel love again.

Never cast out your heart to never be held. It is a crushing loss. No being deserves this. No being deserves the lonely confines of a soul forever wandering, oh so lost within the lonely, lingering night.

Yes, it is a deeply dramatic drama, soiled with puppy dog tears. Yes I did just say that and I would again in an instant. Because it is exactly that and more. You know, you’ve felt it.

So dare to feel it again, take steps to be the one that takes care of your own heart and dare to trust another to share that heart with. Do not be careless, or reckless but do dare, dare to love again.

In the end life is short. There is a time and place to grieve and there is a time and place to let go, step forward and trust.

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Loss, grieving and letting go.

Some of you know me, some my family, some both and others neither at all.
Next Friday is my birthday, some say that birthdays can be especially difficult the week before, day of and even week after. We suddenly are reminded of our age, our life, our hopes, dreams and what we can do to create the future we want for ourselves and our loved ones.

This last week has been an emotional one for me and not a very productive one… I find that when I face writer’s block it is very much a block about myself. Myself not wanting to look at or deal with something that generally I need to write about to process. And I MUST let go of it to dissolve the “block”, writing about it is the most powerful thing I can do to move beyond it, some of you may feel that as well. I choose to make this very personal bit of writing public because it has so been a very secret part of my life, to put it to bed I feel I must “air out the laundry”, so to say… and hope to not offend any in the process, which is not my intent, please hear that now.

Well, I’ve been carrying around a block my whole life, no surprise there! It has felt like an ugly secret, one that a family wanting to seem perfect hasn’t easily looked at, now as we all grow on our own paths we’ve slowly been letting go of these ideas of a “perfect” family, everyone knows there is no such thing as perfect, nor would one really want there to be, life would be so dull!

My loss has been a painful one, as loss always is, I have refused to fully look at it, wanting to believe that one day this loss will simply go away, vanish and never be thought of again. That is not the truth, it is a lie that I juggle continuously and my aching body is finally ready to accept that this IS loss and it’s time to let it go. I’ve been grieving my whole life and that weight is keeping me small, that secret belittling my suffering and making me dismiss myself time and time again.

Most siblings have issues getting along, honestly I’ve always thought that I’ve been pretty lucky, there are six children in my family, I am one of the middle three and I am proud to say that with hard work, empathy and patience I have fantastic relationships with four out of my five siblings.

My older sister and I however have struggled our entire life, I cannot say exactly why, just that we have always been like the wrong ends of two magnets, impossible to be joined together.

As a child I never understood why my older sister didn’t seem to like me, I knew that she loved me as all siblings generally do, but that was pretty much where it ended. Somehow my presences was like a psychic vampire to her, I feel (come on who wants a vampire around!). I was a demanding child, that was how I felt I needed to be to survive in my family system, and I feel now that my older sister may have always resented this, that my big energy was something that she didn’t know how to deal with and in the end she suffered because of who I was as a person.

We were children that seemed to hurt each other emotionally and sometimes physically, though never seriously enough to be of major alarm, consistently and exhaustingly so! World war three was what my mother would say about our fights. “Let’s not start world war three!” would be said many times.

I could never understand why my big sister didn’t want to be my “big sister”, to this day I still don’t know what things were like for her, what her side of the story was or is.

I feel that her pain must be something terribly great, otherwise things would not have been as they were for us. I believe very much that there is good in everyone and my older sister has a great deal of good, she is an amazing person with amazing talents, raising two amazing boys as a single mother, I cannot even imagine! ….And I have spent my entire life pretending that my relationship with my older sister is ok. That I am fine, that nothing is wrong and that there is really little history there, ha!

The truth however is that my older sister has hurt me very deeply, I have always thought that I must have done something to cause this, that there must be a reason why… I have spent my life trying to make amends for whatever hurt I have caused her, from when I was born, to a child, teenager and now an adult and I still don’t know what I’ve done and I’m not sure if I ever will.

I have apologized on many occasions and once more I will now, if there is a chance that one day she should read this, I wish only that in it she sees my sadness at the loss of her in my life and how very sorry I am, to the depth of my soul that I have not been able to attain, or even meet the standards she has set for me.
I am sorry that I was never capable of being the little sister she needed me to be, I still don’t know what I could have done differently, if anything at all, but if I could go back in time and knew what I could do so she could see my heart filled with love for her, I would go back and do it now.

I mourn for the loss of moments that we never had and I cry for the little girls in us that just wanted peace and to be loved by each other.

I would have given anything to be allowed into her world, to have been able to support her, especially over the last few years of struggles that she has been through. Being on the outside and looking in was horribly painful, I wanted nothing but to be there for her, due to our complicated past she was unable to receive the support I offered to her and that has continued to this day.

I had thought and hoped that we’d be able to process our feelings and issues through professional support and counselling, she has not had the energy to pursue this avenue however and I’m finally beginning to accept that things may never change, it’s not my place to “force” change either, I can only be open to its natural occurrence. My sister is entitled to her own process and her own life, with or without me in it. All I can do is stay in integrity with myself and respect her wishes.

My older sister has been in her own process with my siblings and me, for a month or so now (I have no exact date), in it we have all had our own feelings, myself included, as you can see. In this process she has asked for space and privacy, no contact from her siblings whatsoever.

The biggest piece for me in this is that I’ve finally been seen in my pain, I shall perceive this as a gift that would not have occurred if it wasn’t for her asking us for space. My four siblings and my mother have finally seen what I have been going through my entire life, somehow there is at last room for that part of me that felt unnoticed in my sorrow. The part that felt hushed and silenced to keep the image of “perfect” family, the elephant in the room (my sister and I and our lack of getting along) was left alone, swept under the rug, never spoken about, of course it was a massive pain for my parents and many of the other family members as well…

No one wants there to be hostility, of course not, but at the same time no one knew what to do about it and it was probably best that it was ignored, the family was preserved and that may have been the best thing for everyone.

Now as adults, there is no reason to pretend any longer, I cannot be in integrity with myself, I cannot write if I lie about parts of my life that are important, huge and painful, but that are a part of who I am today. To do that would be to shoot myself in the foot before I’d even reached the starting line.

Everyone is entitled to express themselves, to have their feelings, once again know that this is not an attack on my older sister, this is simply a dropping of the veil, and this is me saying that I DO matter. I know that I am not perfect, seriously! I am not perfect! I have done wrong too and I have hurt my sister, I do not know how, but I take full responsibility for my actions in our attempted relationship.

I will always love her very, very much, if there comes a day when she wishes to build a relationship with me I will always be open to starting one, with all the feelings and struggles that it will undoubtedly bring!

Do not think either that it’s all been bad! We have had many good times too, where each of us has shown great kindness towards the other, how could we not? In all the blood shed there is the sisterly bond of love that no amount of wounding can break, it brings me joy to know it! And I know it with the knowledge that underneath the outward appearance there are many, many layers.

This is me officially walking away from the door, be it always open, I will no longer pine after something that I never had and that I may never have.

This is me acknowledging all that hurt, all that pain and putting it to rest.

This is me burying the idea I have held of a “big sister”, for our capabilities only extend so far in life…

This is me standing at the tomb stone removing the black ribbon of mourning from my sleeve. I have mourned for far too long…

Here I am, just me, living my life and letting go of the sister that I’ve never had, the unrealistic, perfect image, which truthfully no one can, or should have to stand up to.

Perhaps I letting go of her will be what she needs to also let go and move on with her life, to live it to its fullest, no regrets.

I pray that she finds her happiness, it’s all I’ve truly ever wanted for her.

Without our past experiences, emotional journeys and the people who we have known and do know, where would we be? Our experiences shape us, teach us and after all…. Everything happens for a reason.

“…And with the winds whispering wayward she faded out upon the tide…”

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