Cracks

Tonight, yesterday, the day before... too much seeping from the cracks in this heart, watering the dust.

Time...

  Sooooo... dear blog of mine,

  I love my son so much.  Having him home with us feels almost unreal. Well, except for the reality of groceries disappearing at a fantastic rate from the fridge and cupboards, that is! Oh, and the mounds of additional laundry... But yes, it is wonderful having Orion here!  His presence has been missed and we love the creative sparkle he brings to our lives. Elly adores her big brudder, and Charlie's partner in crime has returned to draw her out once more.
  My brain has been buzzing with thought, and my heart overflows. There is so much happening from without, and from within.  Today it felt fair to bursting out of my chest. The questions began - Do I write it all out? Do I attempt to make sense of the seemingly conflicted emotions of euphoria and heartache?  I've been writing so much more lately, more on paper, than in the last few years.   This is a communications blog? Or is it a space for my personal reflections?  Hmmm....
  Well, regardless, the photo is blurry and imperfect, but expresses joy... and that is my big revelation for today 😊

Ramblings...

(Written by tiny phone keyboard...)
     It is late and, although weary from work, be it office or home, the spirit is so very alive. So awake. Life and it's mysterious ways can cause one to rejoice at blessings, grieve (or rage) at sorrows, or (more often than not) scratch one's head in consternation.  While there is much outside the realm of one's control, there is still accountability for choices made, actions taken, and reactions knee-jerked 😜.  (Yea, I used an emoticon, smile, get over it, and read on if you like...)
     We are only given one life and, while many say we are only given one chance, I beg to differ. Every day, and often every hour, we are given chances... or choices. With what do we fill those hours, those days? Do we choose to fill them with meaning, savoring the mundane, even, as the gift it is?  Is our attitude one of gratitude for the breaths we take?  With the right perspective, even the simplest of moments can be treasured - from scrubbing baked-on food from the bottom of a crock pot, to pausing from watering the garden to gaze up at the sky and feel the sun kiss one's cheek. I have found, from experience, that it is in treasuring the simple, the good, the often monotonous, that I find joy in life. While exciting, passionate, and thrilling moments can enrich one's life, I choose not to wait for these, but rather smile over the little things. Giggling with my five year old on the swing is a memory I treasure even more than landing a Piper Cherokee on a Mozambican airfield littered with bullet casings.
     My senior year quote from the high school yearbook read, "Go... make your own life extraordinary."  Now, years later, while still encouraging others to do so, I believe it is in the heart and mind that one's life can be EXTRAordinary.
     Songs touch me, this one above probably more than most. Years pass more quickly as I age. No, I do not want to turn back the clock, but choose to live in the present.  Make yours mean something...

Change for the Better...

Earlier today I heard the most hauntingly beautiful instrumental piece playing on my Pandora "Debussy" channel. After not feeling very inspired for quite some time, and believing I had been encouraged, I had determined to write down the emotions this piano composition evoked in me. It was reminiscent of stars revealing themselves slowly, as the night supplanted the day, and stirred a similar awakening within, with the revealing of those tiny points of light, of truth.

However...

The Lovers

Symbiotic.
He stands, strong, supportive.
Embracing from the core, roots held fast beneath, arms stretched to the heavens.
Tender.
She bows, gentle, and firm.
Balanced, they dance, unmoving.
Giving, receiving, and loving.
Necessary.
Interdependent.
They glide, yet still.
Intertwined.
Two.

One.

Love is a Warrior

Love.

So much more powerful than our tiny definition allows it to be.

So much stronger, and yet more gentle than a whisper.

The truth of it cuts, deeply, then it heals.

Love is a warrior, not a pansy.

Love stands, and fights.

It forgives, but does not roll over and play dead.

It extends mercy, yet fiercely protects.

Love reaches into the darkest shadow to say, "I see you. I accept you.

I believe in you. And I'm sure as hell not leaving you. Let's do this together."

Love is a warrior.

Breathe...

There is a bullet round in my pocket.

On a ring.

Scratched.

Tarnished somewhat.

It matters not to most.

It matters all to me.

For it tells an almost unbelievable story.

No, it will not be shared here.

But it has made me lose my breath on three occasions.

Once, when it was presented to me.

The second, when the story was told.

And the third, when I finally understood.

Unable to breathe...