Poem: The Bandit 


Bandit

you stole from me

when I wasn’t looking 

too busy not wanting 

wrapped up in it can’t happen

But there you were

digging away 

at my center 

until I surrendered 

And now maybe 

you have found me

buried under the debris 

scratching away long enough 

for me to be revealed 

So stay

don’t wander away 

or think of stealing bits

of me

and hiding them 

somewhere else 

Poem Art: Community


poem art 2

Today has been a dreaming sort of day. One of those days where I have looked at the life I have wanted to live and wondered if it will ever be possible and if I will ever follow through–or if it will always just be a dream. It was a day filled with research and videos, thinking and feeling things in my heart–even conversations with friends.

How many of us just have these yearnings that niggle at us? It is easy to let life pull us in other directions and I admire folks who just do what they want. It’s not that they are better or I am worse at living life, it’s just different paths. And it’s not that I didn’t do what I wanted, because obviously I did.

But what about all those ‘big’ things that we think about when we were young? Where do those ideas go?

Funny, but my next poem art sort of reflected my thoughts today without my trying. But the words I came across just floated out…and spoke the things in my head.

What are your dreams?

Preparing


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Meditation always helps me to think and brings out interesting thoughts. Today this is what floated to the surface: my future is preparing for me as I am getting ready here, right now. I know this sounds simple…of course it is, everyone’s is, but I mean it in a more concrete way.

What I envisioned was my actual future preparing: like the home (or homes) that I may live someday are being lived in now by folks that will care for them so that I may take over them at some point. Their lives will change course to make it possible for me to love the space on future date. That home by a lake, or the road leading up to it is there now–as I am here now, waiting for the future, preparing for our encounter.

Maybe it will be a person, or people–significant relationships that will alter the course of my life, who are gathering their life story so it will intersect mine. They are playing out their time currently so they will be ready for when we meet, so we will be ready to care, maybe to love, but certainly to know that we were meant to know one another for years to come.

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And maybe it will just be a scene or road that has been waiting for me, calling to me for all my life, but one day I will finally reach it. Because it has been that they have been there the whole time waiting…waiting until the time was right, until I was really ready, my heart open and the vision clear.

The future has just been preparing for me…it’s right there, so close I can feel it. It’s me that must be worthy.

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Heartbeats


It struck me today as I was busting a gut on the workout equipment at the gym, that I heard somewhere that we only have so many heartbeats in our life time. So here I am, with my heart racing away and I think: is it good or bad that I’m working out so hard like this and all the years I did it? If we only have so many heartbeats allotted to us, then if we raise our heart rate working out so much, won’t we use those heart beats up sooner? Or is the converse true and we create a stronger heart like the American Heart Association would like us to believe? Or doesn’t it really matter??

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Are the number of heart beats given to us figured out ahead of time? I’m sure some would say yes, along with the exact moment we are going to die, so who cares if we do this or anything else, because it’s all planned no matter what anyway?

And yet some of us work really hard to extend our lives by eating right, exercising, keeping our stress down, wearing our seat belts and doing all the right things. But we know, somewhere keep down in our subconscious, that when it’s our time, we can’t beat the facts. We maybe aren’t extending anything really because it will happy anyway–just the way it’s supposed to, when the beats are up.

Humans like to feel they are in control. So we keep on those treadmills, hoping that it’s helping rather than beating us closer to our allotted usage. Some like to test fate and do crazy things, but I’m not a gambler. I’ll be here far shorter than I’ll be gone. I plan to cherish it and play it safe as I can.

But if all the right things I have done don’t take me to all the heartbeats I hope to get to, well then, it hasn’t been a waste anyway. Because the choices I made were for other reasons too, so I’m perfectly satisfied I made them!

Wounds 


The wounds we suffer from an unexpected illness or traumatic accident or incident can go layers deeper beyond our physical being. The bruises, broken bones, scars, lumps or changes going on under our skin may be seen under a microscope or with an X-ray, but no one has a clue what is churning within  our psyche—sometimes not even us.

Certainly if an injury involves the brain at all, then it’s impossible to understand how we feel. Even a concussion can cause memory loss, depression and a host of other feelings the individual may not be aware are related to the injury.

We are such complex machines. We include part computer, pipes, motor, lenses and this crazy soul. If any one of these parts isn’t functioning, the rest limps along poorly. 

The odd part is that we may not even be aware something is wrong or unable to articulate what it is….

So in a system of health care providers that don’t care or are too busy to really pay attention, we are left with lots of people who aren’t being treated properly. If a patient is elderly or simply just too hurt or ill to understand what is going on, they will slip through the cracks and get poor care . 


So what do we do? 

I was one of these people a number of years ago after a horrific car accident. I had no clue just how brain injured I truly was at the time. I was a mess. Yes my physical injuries were bad, but the hidden mental, spiritual and emotional injuries lasted much longer.

Luckily I had friends nearby to help talk me off the ledge. My depression became cavernous. It snuck up on me. My memory was shattered for a while too. And the pain was like a lover that wouldn’t leave my side. It was dark times.


If we are lucky we will have an advocate  or at least someone who cares a lot and who still is in touch with reality when we are not. It’s hard to listen when our lives have been shaken and our bodies rattled. A part of us believes nothing will be right again.

But actually I believe these things actually do change us for the better. It’s like nature’s way of doing a rapid mutation, sometimes only lasting seconds, as in the case of my accident, but with everlasting positive effects.