The vacancy of the void is the very thing that makes us human. It propels us to find love. To remain searching. It slows the heart rate for rest and recovery. It reminds us we are alive. We feel. We feel the void.
The longing that still curls in stubbornly hopeful tendrils from your open wounds? These will be your roots, seeking through hard earth to find you exactly what you need to thrive. The grief that took you the ground? It will help form the bedrock of your eventual rise.
...His words stagger under the weight of their burdens
One after another, they rush out of his chest
A flurry of song sparrows and desert wrens—
They nest in my hair, light on my shoulders
Their mouths filled with twigs, red thread and seed beads
I was like a skydiver full of adrenaline and intense curiosity, wondering what's it like to jump out of a perfectly decent airplane just because you realize that you are not, and never will be, the pilot of this trip.
Healthy relationships and interactions are created through a combination of observation, communication, and the willingness to be vulnerable. Often, we do not feel confident and secure because of our fears and old wounds.
There are two camps of thought on MAN-i-festing: 1. when you stop looking you will find it and 2. You have to approach it like a job and put lots of focus and energy into it. I think I've tried one, two and three. Three being I just live my life and if I meet him then great and if not then I rock my single-person status.
I am wrenched open from the inside. Pulling, tensing, staying, struggling, pushing, contorted and tearful until ultimately I am cracked open. Light begins to appear. Layers are peeled. I become the wave. I am taken.
I haven’t cried though because it’s more fun to curse you and all of your celebrations -- especially your presumption that all beings who wish to buy food on a given day also wish to be reminded of you.
I began to imagine a different ending. I imagined plowing all that dirt onto my past and carefully arranging a riot of flowers on the mound left over. I imagined dancing around the grave, bare feet caked with mud, dancing and dancing until I dropped to the ground. It's OK to mourn the passing away of one part of our lives. It's OK to sit -- grief-stricken and alone -- wondering if we'll ever feel right again.
By Cara Perch.
Flash of life and death,Pins and needles climb my scalp.Expectant silence.
Limbs braid, spin skyward.My heart dissolves ina radiant burst of light.
Compelled to let go.Body cast off like snake-skin;No lungs enclosing my breath.
Stretching, expandingI fade; the final notes stillreverberating.
Cara is a business writer by day, poetic wanderer by night, searching for her authentic voice through metaphors. She believes that metaphors help us navigate our own metamorphosis or enlightenment. By consciously putting the idea/concept/problem into another context, we are often rewarded by new insights and a sense of comfort. She writes at Explore Metaphors.
I will bring you my heart. And I will open my outstretched body. And it will be perfectly imperfect, and strong, and hungry. And you will love it because it will be a beacon to you in times of uncertainty and sadness.
The more she talks, the more you find yourself inexplicably sucked into a vortex. Your limbs begin to feel heavy. Her voice starts to fade, and it becomes impossible to pay attention. You might start to yawn; oxygen is a scarce commodity.
Bring me to my knees, and I will find one of the thousand ways to kiss the ground. I am that climber on top of the cliff looking down. I know I am ready to be lowered, but I am afraid to die. Because you and I both know -- we need to die to the old, in order to merge with the new.
And make all of it happen. Yeah, that stuff they said I couldn't.
I'm up out of the hood now, I gotta stop hoodin'
Ain't gonna torture myself no more with you
I done did my time and I done paid my dues
In the real world reigned insecurity, loss, hidden grief, but with you I explored power, adventure and sensuousness; remember how we stroked each other’s arms, enjoying the tickling sensation, like puppies?
Then I realized, it was Me! I was annoyed with myself! I was angry with myself! I was exasperated with myself! Then I was annoyed, angry and exasperated, that I was annoyed, angry and exasperated! YIKES! That is when awareness comes. However it makes its way in is always good. I believe when we finally have awareness there is no turning back.
Love cannot be lost... ever. But can it be found? That is the real question that burns my flesh and sears tactile memories in my mind late at night. Can love be found, can it be had and held and known?
Life is short. That is what matters. Love is fulfilling. That is what matters. How well you choose to love life and live loving – that is the true concern. So, let us live and love well. Let us be brave enough to be ourselves.
“Dear children, let’s not merely say that we love each other; let us show the truth by our actions.” ~ John 3:18
What are you doing to my heart?
Is love more than just a sweet emotional sentiment one offers to friends, family and partners? Or, is love more of an action, a doing, a behavior, a showing up?
Let me retrieve my love-chemistry set: what are the vital measurements that equate to a balanced, healthy friendship and relationship that combine both sentiment and action? A beaker full of this, a centrifuging of that…
Is it too much to ask for proof of purchase? Are our expectations too high for wanting a follow-through? What if we’re not seeking perfection from those in our lives but a sincere connection that extends beyond verbal proclamations?
Sometimes we draw boundaries with the people around us in order to protect ourselves. Sometimes we draw...
Beyond the stories though, we do not actually deal with the adversities in life as an objectified story. Who we are is unbroken as presence; even in the most horrific circumstances, it is a whole human living life.
I get angry because there have been times I have needed you and cried out for you. I have hoped and prayed and begged for you. I asked, and you never answered. I called out, and there was no response. I searched, and you were nowhere to be found. If you are reading this, I found you.
We have to be intentional, if our relationship remains professional, about where we draw our boundaries. But I suspect that by letting you see both my strength and my fear, you will come to know that you are also both strong and afraid, and that you are never truly alone.