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Archive for March, 2013

Flavors

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One night this week I had one of those lucid dreams where you are very aware that you are dreaming.  I was advising myself that fear was a flavor, and guilt was just a flavor, too.

I woke up and started thinking about the big buckets of ice cream at Baskin Robbins, 30 some odd flavors.  They provide little pink spoons so you can sample them.  Some of those flavors don’t make my taste buds do a happy dance.  Just like some of those flavors of emotions, don’t allow my spirit to soar either.  If anything they deflate my spirit, especially if I let myself sit down with the whole bucket!

During the night, I received an email, I instantly picked up the spoon and took a bite out of “Bethie’s a bad girl”.  That’s the not-so-premium flavor of shame.  I almost bellied up to the entire bucket…

Until…

I remembered…

Dear sweet Bethie, you intended no harm, you can put the shame bucket back behind the case.  You do have a choice.  It’s not your flavor anymore,

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Heavy Rain

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High winds do not blow all morning;
Heavy rain does not fall all day,
Are not these made by heaven and earth?
If the power of heaven and earth
Cannot make violent activity last,
How can you?

~Tao Te Ching~
the Te of Piglet

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raindrops

heavy your skies labored today

rain
hail
rain
hail again
and snow

sights and sounds that left me
breathless at my window

deep sunset now and I am
swept in crimson and coral

raindrops hang like glass ornaments
look closely and I am happily lost

deep inside your world.

©heartsdeesire

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I know why a raven is like a writing desk!  Or is it, a writing desk is like a raven?  Doesn’t matter, does  not  matter,  except I just checked my notes because apparently it does matter!  It’s – why is a raven like a writing desk?  I know, I know, pick me, pick me!

It’s the riddle Lewis Carroll meant to be unanswered.  Hence the Mad Hatter said he did not know.  But I know!  Why do I know?  A) I know a tad more than bupkiss.  Take that spell checker! and B) I need answers!  You can’t leave a question hanging, not even a riddle without an answer.

And the answer, drum roll please ….

because language can take you anywhere.  It can fly you to whole ‘nuther worlds, real and imagined.  Where do you want to go?  Take flight into any realm, any where, any time as any artful writer worth his weight in feather quills will tell you.

There you have it, the answer we’ve all been seeking or at least one of us has been.  But wait, there’s more to learn from Alice in Wonderland.  So much more.

Take the theme of champion, for instance.  The White Queen needed a champion.  Don’t we all need a champion?  How about being a champion of ourselves?  Being in our own corner.   Seeing the best of ourselves and pushing ourselves to the limits of that best-ness or much-ness as Mad Hatter called it.

To be anything else, to stagnate, to repeatedly fall back on our comfort zone is to shrivel and shrink back from who we are.  We’re not shrivelers (spell checker doesn’t know what the hell to do with that) we are revelers!  Revelers of ourselves.  We thrive on the fullness of our life well lived.

Never lose your much-ness, whatever that is, you are the one who can choose to dim your own light or not.  And isn’t that the message of Alice, the freedom to choose.  You make the path, too, just like Alice did when she diverted from what the compendium said must be.  And just like Alice this is YOUR dream, you get to choose.

What will subtract from your power to choose for yourself, is listening to what others want and finding ways to please them more than pleasing yourself.  Remember what Alice was told: You cannot live your life to please others because when you step out to face that creature, you will step out alone.  Though the Universe has our back, it has our back even more when we have our own.  There comes a time when regardless of who we love or who we are attached to, we step out alone.  We step out alone in our own truth, alone in our own power to choose, and alone in our own power to believe.

Believe in you most of all.  Let your light shine.  Let it shine and you will be your own champion.  And you’ll never look back with regret only forward with the new day to burst into all that this new day has to offer you.  And that my friends, is to drink from the eternal fountain of youth.


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If you sit for long enough with sadness, fear or anger, or some strange energy or urge you can’t even name, in a place of no hope and no expectation, it eventually breaks apart, its imagined edges and boundaries dissolving into the vastness, and it reveals its deep intelligence, and its benevolent nature.  At the core of everything we run away from is everything we long for. And we’ll never know if we run away. ~Jeff Foster

Jeff Foster asks us to consider sitting with any feeling without hope or expectation.  It’s not that he’s asking us to have no hope, he’s asking that we sit with the feeling with no intended, purposeful gain in mind.  In other words, you don’t sit with it because you’re privately hoping if you do, it will simply go away.  That’s virtually the same as not accepting or allowing the feeling.

When I was 17 an event that would change my life occurred.  Lately, in the past few months memories of that event popped up seemingly out of nowhere, and with them was the rawness of the pain associated with it.  My first response when they popped up, was to want to forget about it.  I was having none of it.  The next time one of these memories popped up, I chastised myself: get over it, Bethie, move on!

Still the memories continued, asserting themselves at the oddest of times catching me completely off-guard.  I thought I might go to a trusted friend, until I realized I could be that trusted friend.  I remembered how there was no support for me back when I was 17, and in many ways it was the antithesis of support.  I learned to “stuff” the feelings, but the feelings were having none of it, they’d been stuffed long enough.  But they didn’t just want to be heard, they were reaching out for that support, that caring, that nurturing which it never received.  Recognize me — they cried out — be there for me, understand me.

Finally, I sat with the feelings.  I listened with the open heart and ears of understanding and acceptance.  I “mothered” myself and treated the feelings with the same attention a healthy Mother would give to her wounded child.  The memories began to dissipate, their intended purpose apparently fulfilled.

In the words of my current beloved mentor and teacher, Jean Haner: “All any feelings wants is to be welcomed with tenderness.”

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Gardens

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“To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow.” ~Audrey Hepburn*

This applies to all gardens, the literal ones and the metaphorical, symbolic ones.  It is to infuse our dreams for the future with faith.  Faith is the doorway to the realization of possibilities and potentials.

What many of my readers don’t know is that I raise a very special son.  He has brain injuries that have had a profound effect on him.  Several years ago we weren’t even sure we could continue to provide for his special needs in our home.  That’s when together, he and I wrote a letter from his future self.  In that letter, he was the person he dreamed of being, and all his needs were provided for throughout his childhood, in the nurturing safety and stability of our home.

Every night we read that letter together, until one day we no longer needed it.  The seeds we planted had come to fruition.  We believed, and our faith moved mountains. 

As we approach Spring, happy gardening everyone … whether you plant seeds in the earth or seeds in your consciousness, your heart enduringly sings of a belief in tomorrow.

 

*props to my friend Marie, for providing the inspirational quote

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Oh, it’s that time of year again!  I re-post this poem I wrote in ’09 every Spring now.  This year the cherry blossoms beckon to be teased out.  Perhaps they will hear the soft echo of this poem in the air, coaxing them every so gently, come be with us…we sing your praises…you won’t be here for long, but we notice, oh, yes, we do notice!

o, to be held captive
inside your cherry blossoms

pinned to your creamy folds

like a bumble bee chubby with pollen
too deliciously full to move

until I am drunk with your fragrance
intoxicated with wonderment

stunned with awe
speechless with amazement

and tumble out onto the splendid
soft green earth filled with the
pulsing passion of being alive

©heartsdeesire

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