Poem: The Stuff of Life 


Sometimes it begins 

And other times it will end

Feel in the middle 

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The Crazy Man?


I readily admit a feeling of doom and gloom, not just because of yesterday…but life in general has been seeming blah. I’ve been working over-time to keep my spirits up, and during my meditation this morning, my old thoughts crept in. Those dark and bleak thoughts where I convince myself that I don’t know how to be positive for very long, that life always seems to put stuff in my path to make me feel low or lost.

Luckily, I don’t stay in this place very long these days…but it stinks that I go there at all. It seems like a shadow that follows me, on sunny days as well as rainy. It lurks just around the corner, like the crazy man smoking the cigarette by the lamp-post–the one that is a bit scary and mysterious all at the same time.

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But happily some good things are happening to get me out of this slump I’m in, thank goodness. By luck, an old and dear friend is visiting. We all know there is nothing like friends to cheer us. Being surrounded by love and those that accept us for who we are without trying to change us is so important as times like these, especially when we are at odds with ourself and questioning our sense of self. For someone to take time away from work and to pay to visit really means a lot to me.

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The other good news (although slightly bittersweet) is that my old home will finally close on Monday. It has dragged on for over a year and I’m really ready to be done with it all. In the end, it didn’t turn out as well as I would have liked, and I was probably a sucker. Sometimes I am nicer than I should be and folks take advantage of my good nature. That was the case here. But hopefully I will gain some Mitzvah in the book of heaven? Or I am creating good Karma or at the very least the whole darn thing will be over once and for all.

I will miss that house and all its beautiful memories. This apartment can never compare in many ways: the gardens, the peace, the lake, the woods, the birds, the sunsets…. But its time has passed. And I am so grateful to be here with my Mom.

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And I’m so blessed for the friends I have now, who accept me, even when I disagree and speak my mind. They seem to understand my moods, my faults and how I can be different. I am lucky that I can call on them to vent, to cry or to be silent for they will always listen and not judge me.

So even if the world may change in a way I might not like or agree with, my tiny world will stay the same as long as I have those near and dear to me close by. And we will continue to keep our world filled with love, kindness, empathy and compassion for each other at least–and there’s usually some left over for others that may need it too.

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Her Glory 


Just sitting out my back door with my best friend watching the sun going down. Catching a slight breeze, no bugs, no rain.

Some moments it’s easy to remember how blessed we are, within the beauty of nature, no matter where we may be. Sharing a peaceful time with a being we love, human or otherwise, knowing that in this particular moment our life is good. Life is fragile, but far too many times we create chaos or imbalance when really there is none. 

If we could simply remember to keep centered in our peaceful times, yet keep an ear perked towards the future so as to carry the calm with us.

And as Mother Earth goes about her glory, walk with her. 

Will I Sleep??


 

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THE OLD HOMESTEAD

It was almost a year ago that I left this wonderful home…now I prepare for another big move tomorrow!! This move will be into a tiny 700 square foot condo. I’ve never lived in a condo situation before. Yet I’ve always longed to be part of a community, to belong to a tribe and a neighborhood. So far, with some lovely neighbors, this wish may come true.

There are many things to do within this community: swimming, work out, walking, trips, games and clubs. It’s just a matter of getting involved. Admittedly, for many years now, I’ve been a bit of a recluse. Hopefully I can get myself out of my shell and more sociable. Work doesn’t seem the place that this will happen, so maybe it’ll be this new homestead.

It was built in the ’70’s and appears to have kept the same sense of that era when folks cared more about those around them. The times when neighbors were really neighborly and knew who lived next door. They work hard to make this happen. It’s not quite a co-housing community (not that cool or expensive), but not unlike. Nor is it totally an intentional community, but with all the rules, one could say it’s trying to be.

I’m hoping my pets will make the transition safely and happily. My dog doesn’t know that he already has a new playmate waiting to meet him named Daphne. He will be thrilled since he lost his brother before we moved. My beagle was old and would never had made the trip or tolerated this weather. My pup has been sad without him.

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BYE BYE BRINKLEY

 

I’m more worried about the cats, but tonight I will put out the little carriers for them to sniff. Maybe with a little added catnip. And at least they will only be traveling twenty minutes this time instead of across the country! They should like this new place, with carpets to vomit on and to sharpen their claws….

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HOPEFULLY THE CAT CARRIERS ARE BIG ENOUGH?

While I didn’t get the little place near ‘the lake’ and it’s certainly not my beautiful lake near my old home, I can still walk near the little body of water (I think) if I want. And, in the end, there are just so many good reasons to go through all this trouble to make another move in a year. Honestly, I never thought I would, but hey, sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do!

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SIGH….THE OLD LAKE….

Poem: I Am Still Here


 

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Some days I am sinking

beneath the mist

drowning below my weary

loneliness

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Trapped

under the weight

of my icy fears

that no-one else can see

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I fly alone

you don’t hear me

you don’t see me

For I am the vision

of myself

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Small lights

in the encroaching darkness

Save me

I lift my weary eyes

and look ahead

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Another dawn approaches

dappled daylight crawls

I am still here

 

Poem: By The Lake


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Sweet moments when we walked together

by the lake

on a blazing day, our love just paces away

Those colorful flashes

when all the toil

came to rest in my beating heart

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The anticipation of newness of splendor

each passing sky

the humble movement of earth’s daily chores

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And gentle footsteps of those that share

paths, hillsides and mountains with me

My grateful reverence

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For these things

I walk in thanks

In peace

and keep hope

close by

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Puzzle Pieces


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Yesterday at work I hit a comfort zone for a bit. It seemed some folks were treating me like a clan member, definite walls are starting to lower as I become recognizable. A few atta boys (girl) by management and a general feeling of ‘ok maybe I can swing this’ washed over me.

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And then pulling off my exit for home, it hit me — that feeling of familiarity! I believe it’s the first time I’ve felt it since I’ve been here. It’s all been so alien prior. But yesterday it felt almost normal: done with work and going to my little apartment.

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Some things are still missing for sure like the go-to people and friends, but those kinds of friendships I build take time. I understand it could be a long time before that piece fits.

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But I believe the puzzle is finally filling in. Bit by bit, a picture is beginning to form. It won’t be the same as the one that I had before or as the one that I might create in the future. This puzzle will be as colorful, complicated as I  want and have the picture of where I am presently.

Living “Off The Grid”


My dog nudges me awake almost every morning around 6 am. That’s pretty early, but it’s OK. I have nowhere to be and nothing really special to do these days, so even if I’m tired–I can catch a quick nap later.

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On our stroll around the neighborhood, I see all the holiday decorations going up. And there’s talk on everyone’s lips about what they will be serving this year for Thanksgiving, how many guests will arrive or where they might be flying to spend it.

Oh yeah…it’s Thanksgiving this week?!  For me my blended weeks just seep into one another, like a watercolor left out in the rain. Being unemployed and unencumbered, leaves one marking the beat of the calendar or week not by numbers but other more subtle things.

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That ‘grid’ that used to rule my life every day for so many years feels now like a distant memory. Today could be Saturday and tomorrow Fourth of July. Delineated moments now only come with sunrise and sunset and when the dog needs to go out.  I have become more like my ancient relatives and move with the pull of the earth.

The months used to drag upon my weary life as I ripped off the pages that hung on the wall. Each year thrown in the garbage, gone to be recycled into some other bit of energy, but no longer mine.

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Now I pass through my moments slowly and with grace. I’m finding parts that were begging to be seen and are now fluttering to the surface. I’m understanding why great artists (like poets, writers, choreographers, painters, musicians, authors, lyrists) are just that: artists. They must have time and space to create their works and not be bogged down by the incessant clatter of the daily noise of the grid.

At first I was lost without the lines that separated each day from the next, telling me what day was what and what I had to get up and do. Stress enveloped me and guilt passed through my bones saying I had no right to live this way. Of course, it’s not that I haven’t been looking for work, but rather I’ve made a conscious choice to step out of my old profession, therefore cutting my chances down considerably.

But suddenly one day the stress fell away. Somehow I realized this “gridless” life was a gift. I felt free. Seeing now that I have the ability within this period to take the chance that I never had before to slow down time. Finally I can stop riding the chilling train I had been taking careening me too quickly forward towards the inevitable end.

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Instead, I can heal the parts within me that needed it–those parts that had to be dug out of the crevices of my innards. Never had there been time before to stop, listen and search those parts of myself and see these hidden aspects. As a friend said: you must empty before you can fill up.

As the moments and days softly turn into one another, and no obligations appear before me, I metamorphose into something new. I too have no shape, no lines that confine me now. It is my time to become whatever may be possible.

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This life without lines, living off the grid may not last forever, but while it does, I embrace it! With its dream-like quality I pass from one sunrise to the next and wonder: what will today bring? And with an open mind and spirit I great each new day.

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