Tears…..

Tears…immeasurable strength.

I have been feeling the pull to write, but with all the changes in life and moving I haven’t allowed myself any time to do so. Finally, finally I am here.

I met a woman several years ago that became one of my very best friends and was instrumental in my healing process, she stepped in beside me on my journey. Held me up and loved me unconditionally. And even though we don’t see each other as often as we used to there isn’t a time where we don’t stop for the other to catch some of the most private thoughts and deepest emotions this Universe presents us with.

She helped me to understand that tears were not a sign of weakness, but of immeasurable strength. There was a time when I hid my tears from everyone. A good friend said if she saw me crying she knew something was terribly wrong because I didn’t allow people to see that part of me.

I used to get in trouble for crying. When people are inconsiderate and speak to you with little respect its hurtful, and there they were..tears…a sign of deep pain. The strength it takes to sit with that pain and hold it is undeniable. So she helped me to understand that it was okay to cry, to show up and be who I am. That I was worthy of good people and things in my life.

Tears wash away the unnecessary. They cleanse the deepest wound, they comfort the lonely, they come from the well which replenishes the soul.

Touching wounds and memories..washing away the unnecessary. As recent as today… and never far from the surface.

Peace for your Wednesday evening….

How is that dish best served?

I wrote this last year, the exact date is unimportant. I am clearing space for a new life and stumbled across these words this evening…it says a lot about my frame of mind then. About the place I came from and the circle I had at that time…..

Sometimes I can hardly breathe for the thoughts running through my mind. This morning I struggle with self value, my worth. I know that I am worthy of good things in life, but sometimes they are so hard to accept. Love and kindness from others are  sometimes the hardest gifts to receive.

We compare ourselves to others. To what and who we hear about the most. At least this is my experience. I have to write to think this through. My emotions are unsettled, the dust has been stirred. I think this is a natural state when you step into a newness so rare that it feels like a language you have never spoken.

Life has been pretty hard sometimes. From friendships to relationships. Everyone has always wanted something…everyone. Everyone. So when someone comes and asks or expects nothing except what you are willing to give…meaning if you show kindness and love this is only what is expected in return. When you can give exactly what you expect and it is returned, that is a true gift.

Sometimes I have to…no, all the time I have to walk through and feel all the layers of emotions that are emerging. The love, sadness, disappointments..I have to let each emotion rise, feel my way around it…through it and inhale as I surface with it and release it. 

Slow realization that we deserve more, better, something greater than every thing you have ever had. No more fractures, no more bruises, tears, let downs. No cheating. No more wondering who else has been or is a part of the relationship. No more watching someone while they watch someone else. No more hate, no more pain. Just no more. I released it all, refused to carry anyones baggage.

Life is different now….for me life is so different now. Many months have passed since this was written, written in the beginning of a brand new. A brand new that was terrifying because it was everything I had asked for and wanted. Consistency. Stability. Honesty. Trust. Truth. Love. Friendship. And so much more. A Brand New.

So I wonder “How is that dish best served?”

Peace ❤

In between

I try so hard to keep my emotions in check. To let go of things and people that rob me of my peace and some days I am not so good at it.

So our life is changing, packing and packing…emptying rooms and the life I have created in the time since my divorce. My divorce, I haven’t written much publicly about that part of my life and don’t feel it is necessary for any type of healing. I don’t feel there is anything to heal. One thing my divorce taught me was to let go of the attachment to things that I held close and I felt were important. Family history, childhood memories, just parts of my history that were easily discarded by someone. The strange part is that I cant treat people the way they treat me, I am not sure what that is. Maybe I should take a lesson in being callous…..but thats just not who I am.

There are gifts, pictures, jewelry that I have discarded or given away, but they were mine to do so with. I felt like it was cleansing bad treatment and memories. I dont want reminders or energy carried forward into the new life we are creating.

So I dreamt of the past last night. Of how my things were destroyed, thrown away, how they didn’t matter. Parts of my family history that can never be replaced. So I had to have some time to sit with what I am feeling. I am getting rid of things, a life I built on my own in the last five years and its picking at old wounds. I feel a little displaced because we are in the “in between”.

Life is fragile. And temporary. And tender. And people can be so cruel.

Where is another box? And is that the pile that’s going to be donated?

And I push on…..

One year ago

Watching you from the kitchen while I wait for the coffee to finish and I drop into a moment from a year ago.

One year ago I had very little direction, something I wasn’t used to. My future seemed very unclear. The job I had disappeared and I faced a lot of uncertainties. I applied and applied. I was consumed with searching for work. It was the first time in many, many years that I had nowhere to go and no where to be.

You pass by the window where I am sitting and I think about what triggered me to come to this moment and space. It is how I feel and see myself now. And of course the way you see me, the way you love me and the random kiss in line at the store.

One year ago I never thought the life I live now was even possible. I look at my picture and I am not even the same person I was then. I was unhappy and trying to figure it out.

With the reassurance from friends, long time and recent. I picked up and filled my days with work, the gym and what little life I held together. Not really living, but existing.

I know now more than ever that I am a survivor and I have strength that a few never gave me credit for.

There was a particular conversation where I was told, “I promise you something better will be on the other side of this”. Those words will stay with me for the rest of my days and I pass them on when I can.

So the other side of this was certainty, stability, a job I love, a man who I love more and more every day. A quiet, easy balance to life that I have never felt before.

Sometimes we stay up too late and sleep in

And sometimes we talk a lot or not at all, but there is always, always something to say or share

We drive to Boulder City for breakfast and it doesn’t work out

But we are so present, in everything

So when you stuck your head in the back door I had already dropped into the moment of gratitude for the life I have now and the life I have with you.

So this life is a better life than one year ago…

Always remember that whatever struggles you experience in your life something better will be on the other side of them ….


Writing out loud

I had some time today to think about now and what’s next. We have an iron in the fire which is really exciting. It means work, time and attention, but it will be ours. But I thought about something that I am forever doing , writing. I worked on pages, and pages, and pages over the last few years. Or maybe I have been working on pages since I was twelve.

I know that I always come back to this. It’s my constant. It soothes and heals, listens and advises when I look back on what’s been written. I am forever collecting words in some way, shape or form. Writing is like breathing for me, I can’t live without it.

I used to write on paper napkins several years ago and leave them in random places. I noticed yesterday at lunch I did this It was about being present, in the moment. Chances are in the particular restaurant we were in, they didn’t even look twice at the words. I don’t think they needed them, I think we did. It was a long day, one in which we never wavered, lost patience and we were never short with each other. It says a lot about who we are, as a couple and individually. He said to me that we are receptive to each others energy. Meaning one can remain calm as long as the other does, we feed off of each other. Anyways, my words were a reminder to be present in the moments we were in. We made it through yesterday without one bump or one short word.

Word…words…writing…and back to the task at hand.

I feel like I need to work on my pages again and do something with them. I have received some good feedback and some who disagree with what I write, but I welcome that. I feel it makes me grow as a writer.

So here’s to Writing out loud and what comes next

Paper boxes

Paper boxes and brown paper

Pieces to a life

Marked with contents

and stacked neatly in the garage

What if life were so simple

Categorized, organized, compartmentalized

A little lip plush on a Saturday evening for some self care

Present

Paper boxes and brown paper

A tiny silver jewelry box from my Mother with red velvet interior

I can remember it from forever ago

We heal in between, those are words I found

I am in between for now…

and maybe touching memories and filling paper boxes is where I heal

for now

I let go of so much in recent months

Things I thought I needed

or maybe even wanted at some point

Nineteen year old stuff and two year old stuff

Shedding layers of life gone by

Life that was once carried in

Paper boxes and wrapped in brown paper

To give…

Last week I unloaded a Buddha from the trunk of my car for a young woman I work with. We have similar interests and beliefs. For some reason the buddha statue that stood in my hallway spoke her name.

In the moment that I opened the car and she laid eyes on it I thought of what an honor it is to give with a free heart. I also thought about a woman who gave me a few things when I started out on my own six years ago. I remember feeling like I owed her or needed to do something for her. Not taking into account the Mala I had tied specifically for her, or the infinity scarf I made her. Everything is an exchange in some form or another. Either between the two people, the giver and the recipient, or the echos of kindness they bestow upon each other and others in their lives.

To see someone smile or happy because of a simple act is more than enough for me. I believe what we give in this life, we receive in some form.

So as I prepare for the new part of my life, there are items from the past that no longer have a place with me. So many variations of items I picked up along the way, be it a gift or some random item I purchased. I have held onto to the most important items. Some may stay in a box, only to be removed in a quiet moment, touched and replaced.

I guess tonight is about giving, kindness and paying it forward in life.

Be kind ❤ what you give you will receive

The fabric of life

I am standing in front of your side of the closet, delicately touching each shirt as I go. I know the feel of what I am looking for. And there it is, my favorite shirt of yours. You smile when I find you in the kitchen and there we were……

Sometimes it’s hard for me to share some of the layers of my life with you, not that they are a secret, but because they are reminder of the tenderness that still remains. I had been trying to tell you for some time and finally found the words, or my voice in Saturday’s morning hours.

For many, instead of dealing with pain, it is easier to bury than acknowledge. So it is buried. Some people never touch it again and some people have no choice in order to heal. I uncovered it and worked on it, through it and beyond it. I learned some valuable lessons in the process. Allowing the poor behavior of others to back step my healing process once again. Another lesson in the book of life. I was finally getting it.

I know now that the lessons I received were to remind me of who I am and my strength. But most importantly to know exactly what I deserve in this life.

I have always carefully thought through my actions and words towards others. “How would I react?” “Are my actions considerate?” “Are my words kind?” “How would I feel?”. I believe where I come from, the things I have experienced throughout life, made me more mindful of others and their feelings. I have experienced situations where someone has subjected me to harsh words and actions and then wondered why I lashed out in anger or eventually just walked away from them.

My favorite shirt, because it feels of you, the way you calm me and the way you stir me. You make me sure of myself and of you. You are the quiet comfort in the middle of the night and the sweet sunlight that floods the morning. You get it where others don’t, the same as I do you.

So I have come to realize that we all heal in our own time. We all heal differently. Even though some have done the self-work and have been on the path of healing, it doesn’t mean that the tender layers, in the core, don’t exist. It may just means we can touch them some days more than others. Some bury the past better than others, and some dont. I always think about the saying “you never know what someone is going through”, and we really dont.

So this is the fabric of life….

My favorite shirt of yours… because of our lessons and continuous growth. The patient people we are with each other and the impatient people we are with ourselves. The worn and tattered layers we came together with and the threads we are weaving together now to create the fabric of this life. Our new life.

Peace for your Sunday ❤

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