No Ordinary Love

Sometimes, to love someone best is to love them from afar.
It is not to entangle or become entangled into the mundane Mess.
Rather, it is to leave and make space for Self and The Other.
This is especially true for the most sensitive Souls,
the free Spirits and creatives,
the misfits and the misunderstood –
the ones who readily absorb external energy,
in whom the skin is relatively thin and the mind too malleable.
One can be a loner and a lover – different type of love, yes,
and equally as rich, sweet, and intense.
Love and intimacy are too big to be contained, restrained and
forced into a box, told what they are and are not.

COURAGE

At the root of the word Courage is Coeur – heart in French. Apropos, I think, as courage stems from the Heart. It is not an endeavor of the head, of logic. The head would have us run, flee as fast we can, as far as we are able, from fear – our edge, that which is uncomfortable and elicits angst so powerful we become physically ill. It is the Heart, like a loving, nurturing parent, that gently encourages us to stand our ground, to face what is terrifying, to look over the perceived edge. Is it any wonder then that the Heart beats so seemingly violently – almost impatiently – as we commit to pushing ahead, pushing past our fear and self-imposed limitations. It is speaking to us loudly, boldly, forcefully. Lup Dup. “Yes, you can!” Lup Dub. “I got ya!” Lup Dup. “Jump. Fly. Let your Light shine.” Lup Dup. “Be the Change. Set an example. Be the exception.” Lup Dup. Lup Dup.

Pearls from Tears

I remember well my fascination with oysters – rather unattractive on the outside, very rough around the edges. Yet, inside, lay a much sought-after jewel, the pearl. When later I learned that the pearl is the by-product of an irritant entering its sensitive insides, I understood why the oyster so resonated with me. This was me, my life: nothing particularly compelling on the outside – by typical standards – but inside, my heart and my mind, utterly extra-ordinary, beautiful, invaluable and unforgettable. 

To this day, I draw my sense of self-worth and place from what lies beneath my skin, that which cannot be seen or felt by most. Alas, residing in a world where the outward appearance is a major determinant of one’s currency and where the attention span continues to rapidly decrease, what place is there for the pearls that lie within? Will anyone pay attention? Does anyone care?

For us, the human oysters, the world’s daily dismissal serves as the irritant; our tears, fodder for the formation of precious pearls. They pile up, the pearls, on our delicate insides, yearning to be seen, worn, to adorn. They were not meant to be stowed away, these iridescent fruits of vulnerability, discomfort and despair. No, they are gifts to be brought to the Light and shared.

And so, with lips quivering, hands trembling and hearts pounding, we take a tentative step, and then another; we open our mouths to speak, softly at first; we pick up our pens and write, allow the pearls to flow out, and then quickly hit send.

Some of what we offer will fall on fertile hearts and minds and be valued; most will be discarded or just plain ignored. No matter. The response is not our responsibility; we are tasked only to release.

Loaded Head

where is my Heart in the Moment?
what does It wish to express?
what needs to come up
to come out,
to be said,
seen,
and lovingly released?

i feel no thing,
which can mean
numbness or peace,
cold apathy
or searing heat.

“just leave Me be!”
The Heart begs,
“focus on this Moment instead.
live outside your loaded head.”

Waking from a Deep Sleep

I am

waking

from a deep sleep,

wondering

Where am I?
What is it
I had to eat?
How did I get here
to these beliefs?

I rub my eyes

as I try

to make sense

of what has become complete nonsense.

I hear the ancestors cry;
they ask why?

Why are you and your kin moving back?
Do you not realize this is a slap
in the face
to those who were brave?
Don’t allow our sacrifice and pain
to have been made in utter vain-
wasted blood, sweat, and tears
over the course of hundreds of dark years!

Wake up from your deep sleep,
the antecedents weep.

It is now your turn to learn
that freedom ain’t free;
it is your sacred responsibility
to the past, present and future
family.

#MoreLove

More Love

this is what the world

needs more of.

More time spent together

remembering we are

keepers of each other.

We’re all made of the same stuff,

crafted from sanctified dust;

unique yet the same,

OneLove with different names.

In you, I see my divinity;

In me, you see your humanity.

We are but mere mirrors –

brothers, sisters.

We must re-member

What We Really Are,

never from our Light

shall we stray too far.

More Love

that is what our world

craves more of-

give It,

receive It,

preach It,

commit

to

Love.

Make It your religion,

your only reason for being.

Two Friends

Two Friends

on a beach

walking,

talking,

planning,

dreaming,

birthing

their visions

into existence.

One Friend,

compelled by her Soul’s necessity;

The Other,

moved by an insatiable curiosity.

Both,

desiring to leave behind

an indelible legacy-

to inspire,

empower,

unleash creativity;

to free the masses

from contraction and boredom

by en-couraging

expansion and freedom!

These two friends

on that beach

were destined to meet,

brought together

by old friends

now deceased.

The story continues

until it is

complete.

 

 

 

America

“O, yes, I say it plain, America never was America to me. And yet I swear this oath-America will be!” Langston Hughes

 

My country

strives to be

a sweet Land of Liberty,

a Crown of Beauty,

from sea to shining sea-

an example

a beacon

to other countries

and peoples

to witness

the possibility

of beloved community

amidst vast diversity,

of justice

amidst adversity,

of kindness

in the midst of such plenty.

America,

this grand, young experiment

in democracy-

governance

of

for

by

We, The People.

Still struggling with its meaning,

back and forth, we go;

to and fro,

from the high

to the very low.

Another birthday,

America 

tentatively celebrates,

expressing gratitude

for what is good.

While also cultivating

a firm commitment

to manifesting

for all

that which is

honorable,

innocent,

hopeful

within the

imperfect,

complex,

uncomfortable

experiment

that gave birth to a nation

of immigrants.

 

 

Chemistry

“The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed.” ― C.G. Jung

A bit of a mystery,

this thing called chemistry:

that inexplicable spark,

ignited from the depths of the loins

or Heart,

where connection starts.

The lean in – 

straight, no chaser –

is a little closer,

paying careful attention.

Two ships stopping,

not wanting to miss anything.

A stirring on the inside,

butterflies,

a yearning to learn

who resides

on that side;

how songs are played

on that life’s stage.

Chemistry,

no rhyme,

no reason-

simply the right season;

a destiny fulfilled

as per God’s Will.

 

 

Give it Away!

Give It away!

For It does not belong to you.

You are but the vessel It flows through.

It chooses you, coming seemingly

out of the blue

to awaken and amuse.

“Give Me away!”

It begs.

I was not meant to remain hidden in your head,

dormant, because you are afraid.

I come from a place that is nothing but pure.

Hence, no need for you to be insecure.”