Something Worth While

It's so strange, exciting, and also kind of throws you into a little turmoil when something like a simple smell can take you right back to a specific time in the past, almost like an honest to goodness time machine. I've been in the past lately. But I've dwelt with the good times.

Lately on these bitter cold winter days that I feel down to my bones, I have instead been sitting in a lawn chair in my mind, with an herbal heating pack on my stomach to warm me, a long wrap around scarf loosely around my throat, and my favorite green jacket with a knitted hat. It's early morning and I have a cup of lemon ginger tea pressed between my numb hands and the sun is rising in soft hues of pinks and golds over a large misty lake. Tall hills cover all sides, and the marsh is rippling with foxtails and wildflowers growing by the coast. This is the closest to peace one will ever get. The air is crisp and my lungs inhale deeply to catch every bit of it as if this will never last. Because it won't. So I try to program it into every fiber of my being to recall on days to come.

Next I am hiking long wooded unkempt trails and then getting stranded in a mislabeled one. I'm stuck in a horrible cold shower trying to nudge myself toward the back and away from the ripped see through plastic curtains. Muddy colors run down the drain from the dirt, the fishing, and the heated trails. But I've never minded the dirt. I like the way it smells. Like a bare earth that has yet to be touched by human hands or hatred.

When I finally get to the campfire I'm hungry but refuse to eat anything before the pork stew and the cornbread is done that my grandma is making. So I sit as closely and play with the fire. The nearness of the flames makes my skin tingle and burn hot but I try not to back away because I know that now that I'm used to the heat the cold with be even harder to deal with. Just like everything else in this life. It's hard when you're used to something good and worth keeping and then you get thrown back into the cold and change. And you wish for just one thing you can grasp onto. Like blue flames.

The stars have never been brighter and as I eat my hot stew I point out the constellations to myself and count them, recollecting all of their names, just the way that I learned them in school when we went underneath the big white dome that I looked forward to every single year. And then I idly wonder why I didn't become an astronomer. They twinkle and burn and promise me that for tonight they are all mine.

Oh, God I remember smiling. I remember laughing so hard that I couldn't breathe and the muscles in my stomach ached in protest. I remember time going by so slow and so fast at the same time and how sad it was to have to say goodbye to the wetlands and the beautiful, majestic rotting trees sticking out of the water from where it was flooded years ago.  I remember my grandparents being so giving and never wanting anything in return as we went to a festival full of antiques and wool sweaters. I remember my kids jacket pockets filled to the brim with candy from the parade and how they waddled home with two bags worth. I remember how my grandpa ended up becoming the packing mule and how aside from some jokes he never complained about it the whole time and always, always was patient and smiling. I remember the early morning walks with my grandma around the cove of the lake and us picking bags full of persimmons to make persimmon bread. We fought huge bees and I did everything but climb up the trees, and that's only because there were no lower branches to get a footing on. I remember my son searching for crawdads and frogs and how the butterflies loved my daughter. They flew on her and just laid right there on her chest and head like she was a queen. It was beautiful. I remember joking with my husband all day and I remember the way he looked in colors of the sunset.

How these times were beautiful. How they shined so brightly and clearly in my memory and heart. And oh, how I will remember them to the day I no longer exist. How I live in these moments so vividly. And how I miss them so much. I want to replay them, breathe them in again. But most of all I want to say thank you to God and all of the loved ones who made these moments happen and count for something worth while.

Simply, You.

You take my defenses and shatter them to pieces. You break me every single day, sift through the scarred, marred parts, and then rebuild me into something more beautiful and significant. Into something better that I can be loved and remembered for. You crush the weakness and strengthen my bones. You warm my blood and set my heart on fire. You are everything that I am not. You are everything adore. You are everything that I love to breathe in. And I inhale and focus on the blissful awareness that permeates my every being.

I remember no pain. I can bring what I think it felt like to the front of my mind. I remember the effects but I don't remember the cause. I remember the tears, but I don't recall the sadness. It's nothing that is relevant to my life now. I was once a scared girl and I remember that well. And that's why now I am brave. And it's all because of you. You're simple undeniable presence. You're irrevocable love. You accept everything that I am. Every piece that was in shambles, every shadow or darkness that had drowned out the light. You've loved through it all. Ever scar you have seen as beautiful.

This is my promise to you. To love you. Unconditionally.
To accept you. Undoubtedly.
To see you. And everything that you are. And in every color that you shine.
To relish you. Timidly.
To be in deep gratitude. Of you simplicity.
And to die for you. Without regret. Happily.

You have not saved me. And I have not saved you. But, in other terms, we saved each other. We beat the bitter cold, the relentless waves, and overwhelming loneliness. And in that loneliness and in all that was unholy we found the beauty in what "us" can really mean.

And I won't dare say that I regret my past. That I would take back all that I have weathered and chanced. That I would have rather tip-toed than jumped. That has never been me or the way that I operate. I won't dare say any of this, because I simply don't regret it at all. In fact, I would do it all over again for however long with a knowing smile every step of the way, just knowing without a doubt that in the end my reward for all of my heartbreak and fear and troubles and blood was you. Simply, you.

A Piece The World Doesn't See

There is a war raging inside of us every day. And the warring stems from and consumes every fiber of our heart and mind. There is always a piece of us the rest of the world doesn't see. There is always a piece of me.

Fighting.

Left behind.

Begging for help.

Two parts. The brave, honorable, fearless woman. And the scared, shaking, fearful child. They claw each other. And they hiss and scream. They want to rip each other apart and reassemble into something stronger and better. Because though we can never change, we can always be better then we were the day before. Though we can never go back, we can always move forward. Though we can never rectify our decisions and losses we can avoid grief and conquer our fears. But what about that part of us that is still pissed off? What about that part that is scared every single day? What about the part of us that we want to crush and defy? What about the part of us that refuses to. Or the part that simply can't.

Yes, there is a war. Both of those sides are incredible, terrifying, and powerful beyond all logic. One part hates the other part loves. One part trembles and the other part is steady. One part cries and the other part laughs at the thought of tears. And only one part wins out each day. 

There are so many different masks. And that's what makes me who I am as a being. That is what makes me an original. There is no one else like me. There never will be anyone else like me. Or you. Or any of us as individuals.

So, here's to the dreamer in us.
And the doer.
The scared.
The brave.
The kickass.
The peace pusher.
Here's to the war hero.
And to the misfit.
To the classy.
And the dark.
To the sound mind.
And to the clouded thoughts.
To the underestimated.
And the weak.
To the liar.
The trusting.
And to the strong.

We all rise as one.

Beautifully. Stupid. Love

I'll start this out simply with one thought.

I don't know what this world would do without love. That's it. Love. The very much overly used, under valued word. The one thing that people fling around verbally even if they don't mean it in their heart, soul, or mind. The one thing that can kill, or heal, or break, and die, and then rebuilt from nothing.

Love.

Love is the one thing that keeps all of this worth every bit of it. Sometimes it makes us come to terms with the stranger that's in us or the monster we keep hidden. It can break our hearts bitterly. It can drive us mad. It can make us whole. It's the best medicine yet the most deadly poison. It is the most powerful above all other emotions, I truly believe. More powerful than hate or pride or pain for sure.

Hate you can feel, but most of the time it's buried. Pride you hold until you meet the one person that strips it away as if it never existed, then it's easy to swallow. Pain in only a vague memory that you can no longer pull to the surface.

 Love. That's a whole other thing. Love can make you act, maybe out of hate or spite or justice. But it's none of those feelings that drive you. It is LOVE that takes the wheel. Love is the most deeply felt. The one thing we would die for in the name of. The one thing we can smile for or accept for or compromise for. It's the one thing we re evaluate ourselves for. And it's the only thing we become stupid for.

A Million Words and No Exits

She took a walk one day. And she went down the dirty path. The one that she was told not to take. The clean path never looked tempting to her though. It seemed lonely and forlorn. And at the end of that path she imagined bitterness and suffocation. A slow death brought on by a million hands and a million words and never any exits.

Her bare feet beat paths into the soil and she breathed in the stardust and the poison out. There were a thousand tiny thorns and just as many weeds that sometime got in her way. But she just went on knowing there would be a better day. Because what did the white rabbit say? That tomorrow would be better and if it isn't the next day would be and so on and so on, because one day things just have to be better. And she held on to that as she walked this narrow path in what sometimes felt like Wonderland, but looked like yesterday.

"Have you ever been in a crowded room and felt so lonely?" she would ask. "I have." And in truth those are the times that she had felt the loneliest in her life. Narrowed eyes always stared, but none never trusted. And she felt that no one would ever even notice if a hole in the ground opened and swallowed her up. They could go on just fine, and maybe sometime at the end of the party they would think "Where is that girl? I never knew her name. I barely remember her face. But I think she was standing right there. Maybe she went home early." and then they would continue next weeks gossip. Because even though there may be many faces there are never names, and the bigger the crowd the more that you blend. The more you cannot breathe. The more your powers fade. The more your light falters at so many hands grabbing and wanting and taking and never giving in return. The more you turn into nothing special.

But here she was alone. Really alone. But she didn't feel like it. She felt warm hands and heard a beating heart and listened heartily to sweet whisperings and encouragements. Here she was alive. And even though she walked this unwanted path, even though she was so scared at times, she would never regret her actions or choices. Because even though the dark terrified her, and thirst hurt her parched throat, and her feet ached from the briers and many many steps... there was light from the fireflies and moon, there was honeydew on her lips, and there were cool streams for her feet. And she knew...she just knew that something spectacular was waiting for her at the end of this path. This is where she was meant to be. These steps were ones that she was born to take. The core of her soul radiated strength and courage. And in the end...that's all that matters.

The Transitioning

It's been a while since I have wrote. Almost a month. I've been making some big changes, and I guess I have also been trying to allow these changes to take place in my life. I know it will be better in the long run. I feel it in my bones. It's something I've wanted, now I just have to grab it.

I try not to think about what I'm leaving behind, because it all becomes too bittersweet. There were bad times, but there were a lot of good. Really good. I always knew that it wouldn't stay forever. Everything changes. Nothing ever stays the same. But the years went by pretty damn fast too. The past was never meant to be lived in though, only visited on rainy days. So I won't go there. Not now anyway. I will look ahead. I will be strong. I will ask for courage and find it within me. Because life is all about change, and transitioning. It's about new experiences and faith. Without any of that, you never truly live.  I will search for what I'm suppose to do, what I am suppose to be in this life that I have so gracefully been been blessed with.

I will better myself. I will make my own path. I will see the beauty in the transformation. I will focus on the postive and stop looking for any negative. I will take any pain and crumple it like a paper ball, and with whatever is left I will pray away. I will NOT let fear control me. That is something that one allows. And that person will not be me. I will pass through time and make it matter with each heartbeat and footstep. And most importantly, I will know that I am never, ever alone.

Thank you to those that I love for making these past years count. For being there. And most of all, for doing what you never had to do. Thank you.

With love...

I'd Miss You

I've seen a thousand fireflies,
 Look like stars falling down.
I've seen a blood moon rise,
And a first love come around.
I've seen all the city lights,
At midnight on the bridge.
 Out of all the things I've held,
There's only one thing I would miss.

I'd miss you on them sleepy rainy days,
I'd miss you in so many different ways.
Out of all of Gods promises that have come through,
I'd miss you.

I've seen the dawn break,
Over mountains in the sky.
I have felt the tide wash in,
And have heard the wild birds cry.
I have climbed the highest tree,
And have walked in wildflowers.
I have seen the lightning break,
And have bathed in rain showers.
But...

'Cause all the seven wonders and all the northern lights could never shine quite as bright.
As you...