Awaken morning warrior

Today I'll be content and ask how sweet to be
alive in the world.

I'm full in heart and song
rich with light to illuminate
the possible, possible
poetry in me.

There is a way through the door.
On this journey
I walk to seek myself
open up.

In fact, you will discover
as I did,
hidden vistas, a seed,
a treasure found within my
head,
eyes,
breath,
heart,
spine,
kidneys,
liver,
arms,
hips,
pelvis,
blood,
legs,
knees,
ankles,
feet.

A place of power
composed of all wonders,
where
love,
energy,
trust,
soul,
intuition,
laughter,
heart,
family,
wisdom,
happiness,
and freedom live.


And so it is that
my commitment is to listen,
and welcome,
and celebrate,
the special spirit that fires in me.

And here,
I will plant acres.

I've been in a poetry mood lately. The above poem was written a while ago (actually--it was constructed from words I cut out of magazines and put together to make sentences, so really it was a poem that just fell into place). It just seemed fitting for a new year and the commencement of a new decade. I hope we all "plant acres" of what we want our lives to be filled with.

Back To Reality

Sigh...last week at this same time I was sitting on the beach, pina colada in hand, soaking up the sun with my hubby (honeymoon post and pics to come). Now, at the close of a long week, I'm already feeling like I need to recuperate from the emotional drain of some heartbreaking situations I've witnessed at work. Long sigh again.

But, I've decided in the last couple of months, despite all the tragic news heard from what surrounds us or from the media, I want to look at what is positive, what I am grateful for, and to really savor the many blessings in my life (which I have always done, but now want to do with a new and more focused spirit).

I wish for myself, my family, friends, community, and the world:

ALWAYS!

I found this picture when I was rifling through an old box of photos. I had spent a weekend with friends at a lakefront cabin in Maine about 8 years ago and the cabin's owner engraved stones as a hobby. The inside of the cabin, as well as the landscape around, was littered with these little treasures. Each one we found was a surprise. They each had a different saying. I guess this one really spoke to me because I took a picture of it.

Excavation Begins

Entering the temple, at first, is daunting--
Cobwebs tangled,
Uncertainty heavy,
Darkness wears me.

There is no definite path, only the trust of my palms
Pushing into the great bulk of that door,
Hinges screaming my name,
Wondering why it has taken this long.

Finally here, inside is safe and warm.
Walls, floor, ceiling built strong by the hands of ancients
And I know that this space is sacred, divine, wise.
As it has always been.
As I have always been.
As I am.

The picture above is a snippet from one of my art journal pages. I used paint, magazine scraps, and matte medium. 
I wrote this poem in honor of how I view (or how I would like to view) my body. I hope you enjoy it. 

It's time to...

Poem #1

It's time to peel the layers from this over-ripened fruit.

It's black and blue with bruises and I want to
throw it away; forget about what lies beneath its succulent endeavor.

And--

I see the dense box built up around my heart cavity.
The mural painted deep inside its walls prophetic,
speaking in tongues I can't yet understand
about finding the way out.

Either way--

The path of this sacred ground my feet have already touched.
I have eaten of the fruit.
I have picked the lock on this box.

Now--

I throw it all into the sea
to the places the sun can't reach.

So this pilgrimage can
finally begin.

The picture above is made on a 4" x 2-1/2" piece of card stock. I used words and an image that were cut from an old issue of Yoga Journal Magazine (explains the glare, sorry). It was quickly and easily collaged. I have made of number of these cards. Some I display in my home to remind me of what I want to focus on in my life. Some I have given to friends--everyone I have given one to seems to love it, appreciate that I made it by hand, and one friend even put it in a frame for her bedside. I like to remind myself that it's never too late to face my fears and that I can BEGIN anytime I want. In fact, this moment seems just right for me...what about you?

The Call of Awareness

I am not as I think I am.

I don't believe myself to be an angry person, but today there was a moment, a presence, a feeling that shattered this illusion. It wasn't a dramatic experience.  The gates didn't burst open. The demons didn't spill out. But, there was a small fire...I felt it and really acknowledged it. And I wondered, how long have I been tending these embers; how much of who I truly am has it burned away; and most importantly, WHY the hell is it there?!

Questions which are so important for me to explore and discover--not just for my well-being but for the sister, daughter, wife, friend, neighbor, artist, poet, writer, hiker (etc...etc...) that I am. I guess journeys are not always meant to be easy breezy.

Yes, I felt a moment of anger. And, later in this very same day I also experienced moments of wonder--the call of a blue jay outside my window; the sound the leaves made when the wind brushed them from a tree and all at once they danced and swirled their way to the earth.

So for each of these moments, I give my thanks to being present today.

Journal Blessings!

I finally broke down and gave in to the Moleskine journal.

You may ask, "Why so resistant?"

In my attempts to be "green" I noticed all the paper I already have around my house. I have water color books in varying sizes, I have scrap paper, I have cardstock I can gesso over, and on and on. I didn't think I needed to go out and buy another version of something I already have so much of.

But slowly and surely, I came to find I was finding it challenging to cover a whole 15" x 20" page of watercolor paper. Sometimes just staring at the landscape of all that whiteness was overwhelmingly daunting.

I decided I would venture over to Barnes & Noble--just to look. I mean, I didn't understand why everyone cherished them so. A friendly clerk led me to the Moleskine shrine. She said she didn't know how to actually pronounce the name either. And after a little chatting we found out that almost every clerk at that store said it a different way. "MOLE-skin," "Mo-LE-skine," "Mole-SKEEN"--they all sound good to me.

Anywho--I opened up the one journal that wasn't shrink wrapped. Thank goodness! It allowed me to run my fingers across the soft, creamy-colored pages of card stock. Not too stiff, not too thick. The size was petite (a 5" x 8-1/2" compared to my monster watercolor paper) and in it I felt a sense of hope.

I purchased it and brought it home with me. Right away I felt this strong sense to bless it which I did by opening it up , laying objects of importance on it (natural elements always speak to me), and vocally telling it what I hoped to discover in myself by journaling on it's pages.

Long-story-short--Moleskine and I are now happily ever after!