grasping feelings

The truth. The whole truth. The entire story.

Not just YOUR whole truth. THE whole truth. The bigger picture. The parts you did not even know you did not know. The details you did not request, and possibly, none of the details you want. The parts that maybe do not even include you, that dwarf you. Entire connections from before the beginning, revealed and released, can melt a mountain of rock hard feelings into a pool of understanding. Real understanding. Clear connections of all the dots, not clouded by your judgment cast on the players, but a grasp of the reality that everything stems from something else and no one person holds all blame.

No one person holds all blame. Which means there is no one to blame. No one left to throw all your anger and pain towards. No one left to help you get rid of it but you. Truth comes with consequences, and those consequences lie squarely on your shoulders when you realize you have to deal with your own feelings and stop shelving them on someone else, stop casting blame for the way you feel away from you, instead of directed at you. Consequences that leave you face to face with understanding how your feelings came about, and God forbid, showing compassion to the very persons who before you held accountable for those feelings. Why? Because all the time the story is larger than what you can see. Because you play a role, no matter how in/significant you believe it to be. Because holding hard feelings only makes you heavy, and throwing hard feelings only makes you weak, and because the only way to really rid yourself of them is to break them into smaller, softer pieces and wrap them in understanding the truth. The whole truth. The entire story. The larger picture.

painful

stand up, sit down, lie down, curl up
no relief
spit it up, gargle it, drink it down
no relief
right side, left side, tummy, back
no relief
crying makes it worse
talking makes it worse
swallowing makes it worse
unconsciousness is my only reprieve

hospital visit pending

intimate

arms around bodies
sweet embraces
pull lifetimes of concerns
far from the mind
with each long hold

heads nest in necks
feelings of soft skin
breath
reminders of life
fragile and delicate

fingers interlocked
joint hands understand
lean into each other
for inside support

legs twined together
wrapped journeys
of great distance
covered with comfort
and careful responsibility
of accompanied steps

toes deeply press
battered and beaten
carry weight
back and forth
as light and heavy dances

lips express
wordless motions
silent peace
sincere pain
subdued passions
intense appreciation
honest communication

dark volcano

There are times when I hate my own thoughts and feelings; times when I feel like I've betrayed myself by expressing them; times when I care deeply about what they may imply; and times when I couldn't care less.

moorlands... a nice camp

It was a week of nothing else but taking in the creation of God: observing his children, in their broken innocence, adulthood creeping into their early teenage years, battling insecurity and independence; fully grown adults sharing their lives, breaking themselves down into teary, painful, happy and sad pieces for young eyes to experience and understand; testimonies of the true acts of God in very different situations with vastly different people, all coming to the same realization of God's love in their lives.

A week of no sadness from being in a job that I do not necessarily like, or thinking about the responsibilities of leadership positions, or how I plan to direct my life to create the most happiness. It was instead a time of remembering how well God can drive if I just let go of the steering and let Him. A week of refreshing commitments to sell off rather than sell out. A time of embracing the 'cross kulcha' that I so freely chose to be a part of.

'Cross kulcha...to di rerl!

Who's the focus? Jesus
Who we followin'? Jesus Christ the King
So as we bounce to dis
Sing and shout these lyrics
Cross Kulcha... dis is a cross kulcha wid Christ

Cross kulcha...to di rerl!'

breaking

rest a while my little friend
take a long-needed rest from your constant journey.
stay a while my little one
in this state of tranquility,
this calming moment of distraction from your curse
as you lay your head on my lap and let the time pass.
stop a while my precious one
and do nothing, absolutely nothing
but listen to rain beat the yearning ground,
and let yourself feel the rise of calm filling your chest
and the gentle exhale of the strain of another day
of penetrating the world to pieces.

just around the river bend

'should I choose the smoothest course
steady as the beating drum...

or do you still wait for me dream-giver
just around the river bend?'

That fork in the road of which Pocahontas speaks,
are life-changing decisions that are familiar to us all,
along with the thought that there is one who seeks
to lead us to our destiny if we simply reach out and call

And yet, even those who believe in that type of fate
find ourselves stuck on a rock somewhere
wondering how we ended up in this state
how did we meander and find ourselves here?

Following your dreams means knowing what they are
and knowing means there's no shadow of a doubt,
but what if your dreams and hopes take you too far
what if they all blend and none of them stand out?

Then? Then you are left with lots that you like
many paths that could potentially be the one
and you'll be too confused about which match to strike,
which passion to ignite and road to travel on.

And what then if it's only a part that you prefer
what if the details of that passion do not interest you?
Do you still delve deep to better equip yourself and suffer
or merely skim the surface and remain true?

It is simply too complex to live out the phrase
'follow your dreams to the end'
when there are just too many dreams to chase
and only one life to spend.

he who knows

Trust.

Taking people at their word, at the exterior they show you, at the faces they display and the emotions and words they express.

Intimacy.

We crave it. We need it. So much so that we will trust what we see and hear, all to acquire it.

But do we really know anyone. Do you really know me, or me you? Or do you only know what I want you to know, what I want you to see, what I want you to believe and to trust.

Do you trust that you know the next person?

I sure don't.

The only one I know that I know... is me.

mind boggling

my brain is fat
chock full of thoughts
bumping and swirling around
can't control them all
an idea or two of the creative kind
a memory of work getting left behind
a shock of deadlines fast approaching
a reminder to go back and check something
did I write it down?
have I eaten?
did I make that call?
oops, forgot to listen...
what was it that she said?
something about a meeting floating in my head
Have I read that article?
did I comment?
am I already prepared?
was that email sent?
and on and on these thoughts of mine go
the half of them, you'll never know.

seasonal

Is it only a matter of time
before you become them...

Before the course of commonality
has been run to the end
and the fire of the beginning
has burned to cinder...

Before we run out of things to say
and reasons to say them,
and the silence becomes comfortable
and disheartening at the same time?

Or will you be one of the few
that hold their place in the spotlight
and never fall into the abyss of the crowd...

time.
only time.