Heading into tomorrow
chasing the past away
bringing soft and comfort
and dreams from yesterday
Sharing time and fun
yet knowing the edge is near
feeling for the rail
to keep the moment here
Wishing for a point
to look out, over and through
finding some relief
with gentle thoughts of you
I remember the day I met her. I was overwhelmed by her genuine enthusiasm for life. I can learn a lot from her, I thought. She made the bad situation of returning to work a joy, something I awoke and wanted to do. When her laughter fills a room, the world changes. I’m blessed and I know this.
Watching her quickly turn each project into a reality beyond expectation, taught me to give ‘er. Dream big, plan big and enjoy the rush. She adds joy to everything she touches.
Laughter, a hug, a shared tear, empathy, sympathy and an optimistic outlook is guaranteed. She’s a natural nuturer. A mother who hates what you hate and loves what you love, without judgement or fear of reprimand, just gentle acceptance and soulful guidance.
There’s an empty space at work these days. Heather has moved on. She’s not far, but I don’t hear her laugh everyday or experience her magic and daily dose of friendship. All that makes me sad. I miss her. But missing someone is such a gift. Much better than the thought of never having met her.
With new opportunities brightening her path.
It’s not an ending, but a new beginning.
How grateful I am for her.
How awesome it will be each time we re-unite.
How much I love her.
How perfect that is.
When life takes you on a trip to a far away place you’ll need to pack a bag. Fill it with hope and joy and intrigue. Your openness is your ticket and each moment your passport. Always travel with a friend, someone you trust and care for. Someone who makes the forage a pleasure chore. Guard your memories. Gather them and keep them in a safe place. You will need them someday. When you return, be cautious. Don’t take these trips for granted. They are a gift. Receive them with grace.
Off in space. Not knowing where to put my hands or where to start cleaning up these thoughts that are spread around me like feathers from a torn pillow. I’m in a mode of sweet, utter panic and it’s put me in a spiral not unlike a tornado. Where I’ll touch down remains to be seen. Somewhere soft, I hope. Somewhere warm and dry and cuddly so I’ll want to stay put a while. So I won’t feel the need to flee to the next big dream. An intense need to stop and absorb the moment falls around me. I’m cocooned in my desire. Stuck and happy to enjoy it. Loving the feeling of knowing it happened, finally. Hating the anticipation of having to learn to spread my wings and fly. Can’t I just stay here? It’s a happy place.
She sat beside him, just close enough to feel him breathe and then spoke slowly. Are you sure?
He sighed heavily and stared straight into the sun. I’m not sure about anything anymore.
She stared at her toes. What can I do?
Is patience too much to ask?
Korey’s two front teeth are loose. He’s already lost his two front bottom teeth but new ones have replaced them. I’m reminded that my opportunities are short to grab lots of shots of those beautiful baby teeth that are now separated by oceans as his jaw expands to give birth to the second round of chompers. I envy the spaces. How easy it would be to floss between them. My teeth hurt. Wax keeps my lips from being savaged by stray wires. The rapid shift is on. A space has already developed between my front teeth. The Madonna look does not appeal to me, however.
Missing your closeness
Missing your comfort
Sensing your anquish
Sensing your pain
Wishing for you
Wishing for your happiness
Wishing for your escape
Mandy sits by the door looking up at me and whining. She doesn’t want out. She’s not hungry. She wants me to go to bed. But I’m not ready. My soul needs to tap out my feelings, to share something that sits heavy on my mind. I’m not sure yet what’s coming but it feels big and I can’t even get a good read on whether it’s good big or bad big…just big. Everything feels shifty these days. The ground on which I usually stand and the means with which I define myself have faded and I’m left tottering on a log. The water is cold and dark and I don’t want to fall in. I’m not trying to be cryptic, it’s just a feeling that won’t leave me rest.
Meditation will help, I’m sure. Yoga will ground me. Sleeping will reset my intuitive soul. Yet I resist all of this and keep struggling on the log as it turns through the water, becoming saturated, less secure. I have a friend who needs me but I can’t reach them. I’ve tried and tried but they won’t pick up. One breath tells me to release them, the other to hold on. This friend is not someone I barely know, it’s someone I’ve grown up with, held hands with, walked the beach with, cried, loved and laughed with. This friend is me and I don’t want to lose her.
My faith keeps me strong. My faith in the universe, in my God who loves me and wants me to be happy, but really depends on me to find my way. I know everything I need is inside of me, but somehow the blinds have been pulled and I can’t reach the light. It’s not that I can’t really, it’s that I don’t want to. Somewhere in this darkness I’m finding a purpose. A realization that sometimes life is sad and holding that for a while deepens your compassion and your ability to see people as they truly are with their own sadness and pain behind the brave smiling faces.
Depressing really, isn’t it? I’m reminded of the laws of attraction and creating our realities from our thoughts. Have I thought this mess? Am I really in a mess or self-absorbed? Tomorrow I will smile more, be the person basking in streams of glorious light, secure in her world, secure in her sense of justice, attracting the world she wants. Confidently reaching for her dreams and stepping off the log to solid ground. I’ve learned enough here for now, the lessons are engrained, I won’t soon forget.
Now that was worth the wait, wasn’t it Mandy?
Justin drives a two-wheeler without training wheels. He’s so proud. I don’t know what amazes me more, his exuberant bloom or his balance, but both are awesome. Korey, in big brother fashion, champions and heralds this new accomplishment. Word has spread throughout the village of this “lightening” on two wheels. I tell him there’s a big responsibility to this. Drivers don’t expect to see someone 4 years old driving a two-wheeler so you need to be extra careful.
It all happened during a camping trip he took with his Dad over the weekend. I missed the actual first, but when he came home, I still got to hold the back of the seat while he claimed his balance. Which is to say that it didn’t actually happen until I saw it with my own eyes. Our inaugural bike ride took us all the way to Nanny’s house, and that’s quite a ride for a 4 year old.
He can swing by himself too. I want to stop the progress, hold and cuddle him. Feed him from me and tickle his feet while he suckles. I miss my little baby boy. I ache to be his Mommy full-time again, to not miss a moment.