Autumn Dusk

It's a restless time of year. Twilit, chilly breeze rattles the blinds while I wander from room to room wondering what to do next. I painted today - did a lot actually, but my spirit never really settled to any task, and when it did, there was a feeling of loss.

No plans, no idea to settle my fingers or entertain my eyes. I don't want to read or watch TV, I don't want to play my guitar or even turn on the lights. I don't want to sleep or eat or talk. Restless...

Maybe when the light is gone I will be calm; silent as the moon.

In My Opinion...

This morning during my meditation I became aware of all my (endless) opinions and how they slow me down and try to blind me. I tend to make hasty opinions that are almost always changed over the course of time. If I could keep them to myself it would be a vast improvement.

This is a favorite defense mechanism that happens when I feel threatened or unsafe - or am taking a risk of some kind. It's just as frequent and stupid on the 'plus' side of it; either way it's a judgement call based on snap-opinion. My ego plays me for a fool with my emotions and it wreaks havoc with self-trust (which does not mean stubbornly insisting I'm right... jeez).

It's one of those things that seems like an impossible, frustrating puzzle whose final piece is always missing. I get very '3' about it (as in years old!). Seriously though, OPINIONS... It's a patience issue; and it's a faith issue. My habit is to think there's something wrong when I'm experiencing circumstances I find not to my liking. There's nothing wrong. This is life! I'm 43, almost 44 and still coming to terms with this.

Recently I was expressing my opinion about some 'injustice' and stopped short, wondering WHY? I have no idea what this other person is going through - but I fear for myself, so I spew about it. For what? Support? Sympathy? I realize each person's journey is just as precious as mine is to me... just as complex, as worthy of care and honor and room to grow as anyone's. So I have to ask myself - 'is my LOVE bigger than my opinion - my likes, dislikes and preferences?' And just asking that question breaks the ice around my heart. With that question, love pours out like molten light and my opinions are suddenly tiny dust motes illuminated by a brilliant sun. Once again the soft, cool breeze cups my face and clears my eyes so I can feel with clarity and remember compassion.

The Incorruptable Path

I've spent the last few weeks clutching blankets of fear and grief to my heart as though they could somehow protect me from having to feel what I've fled. Only to learn once again, there is no escape.

I started painting after months of nothing, knowing, 'if not now, when?'. No inspiration or direction, just action. And I took it despite the deafening cacophony of cautions beating down my battlements.

I forgot that art is the open door, where "I" disappears and the truly magical mysteries express with pure, untainted voices.

In my mind were misty visions of beauty... at least it got me moving. I broke through the precious stage yesterday; where it's pretty, but has no defining feature, no voice, no feeling, but I don't want to 'mess it up or do it wrong'. I decided to just trust where it was going and attempted to add the next piece. My son came home from school and said, "MOM, how did you get your HAND on there?? Is that a DEAD person? It's creeping me out!" and I laughed, knowing I was now free to experiment; to open the door wide, throw caution to the wind - or maybe just gently let it go.

Today came with the realization I don't have to please anybody with this or any painting; that I am graced to know there is a path to and from my heart that is essentially incorruptable when I pick up a brush - or for that matter, write without attachment to outcome. That despite the visions my mind provides to move me along, when I let go of caution, my heart (and all the mysteries of the universe) express - no matter what I may wish was appearing. Other than my child, it is the greatest gift I've been given. My gratitude overwhelms me.

Every time I come home again, my thoughts turn to everyone - all of us.... and I wonder how we all keep finding our own lighted path to trust and share.

Some Days...

sitting waiting here we go again
to school to school every day
what can i say
feeling so sad so misplaced
feeling alone lost
where is grace where is grace
am i just blinded cold and old
with changes
getting harder to bend
harder to fill these empty spaces
yes it will pass it will go it will fade
when i remember
this world to me is a mystery
it ain't that it is this
it is this gotta feel it
gotta taste it gotta live it
so lonely and cold
tell me why is it
am i young by myself in my heart
is it false
what do i need to let go of
maybe the feeling of ownership
maybe the labels i cling to
if i call myself artist or mother or woman
does it bring me worth
what am i without them
me
feel it burning yes i feel it burning
with its own light its own life its own fire and mystery
me
so i sit here and write it and know
we all die
so what is the point please
i need to know
just to live breathe and share what about those who suffer
i've got to name some things as wrong
all in my heart i feel pain
i don't want it
i'll read watch and play till i can't feel at all
will i can i do i make a difference
what if it's all down and down again down
no more i'm too tired exhausted and mired in the
proof of a heart that's too stupid to live in this place
too naive too untrained too beat down
i feel maimed by the living i've done and the
wars that i wage
all that i want is to sit in the love
to sit in the light to live on and on
it's not like that though
we're all going on and it's maybe today or next year
all i know is i'm scared and i'm old
and too young
i'm missing me missing me
come home now i'm scared
please can you stop for a minute let's talk
hold my hand hold this moment
it's over too soon
i'm hurting for family for friends for a heart
that won't hate too much hurt too much
please give me shelter
just for a minute for love and for strength
give me shelter
just sit with me here
till the dawn


mjp

Your Song Is Over Here

I hope you can see now

traveling on different tracks to
a different destination

away from me

You're everywhere now

blooming like a flower and I feel

alone

a little bitter, a little torn,

wishing I'd been with you -

could have helped somehow

The song you sang and sometimes
let me share is over here

it's over here

There's a twister inside me

tearing me open with questions

with impotent rage

Too strong, too empty, too filled with myself

I feel you inside and miss your eyes

familiar like me

where are you now

for my friend

BE

Hopelessness is a lie. It is a lie. When we realize no one is coming for us, our deepest fears are exposed, one by one. The mad scramble of avoidance is eroded as hope of rescue disappears. And what is left?

Our strength. We are always newborns, learning to stand on shaky legs, learning they are strong enough to carry us if we will just use them. Remember your truth, it is the only way to light your path. Be still. Be kind. There is only love.

Good Bye Hello

Finally, finally today I cried about my dad. You know how you can deny something and all the while it's right there, pressing in, giving you less space to move and breathe in all the time? Well...

I'm slowly, so slowly, learning to trust my own timing. I'm just so accomplishment oriented that to be in a state of near paralysis over something, anything (even the death of a loved one), is an open invitation for my ego to bash my self-esteem into some kind of forlorn, bitter submission. Forget it. Just forget it.

I realize (admit) I feel my dad everywhere. It's just that my mind can't comprehend it. I am grieving his passing, bombarded by images I push away before they can have impact. Feeling an overload of conflicting evidence. Mind, heart, spirit - all informed of different truths - all of them TRUTHS. So much to deal with, and I know it's not over, but thank God for this breakthrough.

In this moment, I can see that I was feeling this bigness of my dad with far more comprehension than I would allow because in my sad, needing mind, I was afraid if I really let that in and accepted it, he would go away. If I just didn't look or acknowledge these things, maybe he would stay longer, not leave me - offer more evidence, stay my dad. Oh I'm so afraid to let go. It's the re-realization that I am not in control of this. I'm not in control of this. I have no way to feel him or not feel him or make him stay or any of that. But to reject the gift of it is to reject all that is being given to me. Such gifts of love all the time. Such beautiful people I've met and experiences being offered for me to choose if I can just have the courage to accept them.

My time of timid bravery is over. Let me say here and now, I accept (no matter what evidence my ego so convincingly displays to the contrary) that I am good enough to receive all I hope for, that I am just what I need to be - even when I'm not painting, when I'm not writing, when I'm not grocery shopping. I accept that I am enough in every instance to become what my heart has set forth to be. There is purpose to my heart being here, and being exactly what and how I am - exactly me. I accept that my dad is here now, no matter what may happen next. I accept that he is FOR me - so for me. I surrender, and in letting go I am free once again.