Go in with a BANG

The loudest noise I ever heard was heavy metal music.

Like a tonal nightmare, the only thing that had ever paled to it in comparison was the noise inside my head that screamed comfort zone. "Play it Safe" was the mantra that had owned me for most of my life. It was the sunblock, the helmet that shielded me from the crazy world around me. The chords of this comfort volume were so loud that the only thing I thought could dim it down was the only noise that had even come close to it...

Fear.

Blazoning shards of anything different.

I had wanted to learn to play the electric guitar for a long time.

But it was so 'un-me' - so loud -

that the very thought of picking up a guitar left me feeling naked in Times Square.

But I had to do something bold.

I had to finally introduce Safe and Fear.

This duality inside me had to meet,

as one often gives birth to the other.

I believed in myself partially and signed up for guitar lessons - 

a dare inspired by the year's end approaching and the flash of neon exit signs 

that pointed towards a new entrance.  

A hallway of uncertainty and fear was the last place I thought I'd see the light.

But it wasn't until a friend gave me my own electric guitar as a gift

that pushed this thought into consciousness:

"Own this noise louder than the noise had owned you."

Power was wrapped up inside that package with my name on it

and all it needed to come alive was

for this fearful soul to set it free.

Remove wrap.

Insert amplifier.

Play the fear in and out of your veins 

like contractions of rebirth.

Ah, you're gonna dare me to?

Fine.

I'm gonna rock this.

The contractions began.

Now, there's no sound sweeter than risk.

I'd played with it before,

and I was hearing it again with the first shriek of a strum.

I thought,

I'd rather dance to the shaky rhythm of change than walk to the drone of typical.

A fear baby was born and it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever heard.

You don't have to make waves to make change.

You don't have to move mountains to matter to the universe.  

Perhaps tweaking the sound of your own tune is enough

to simply feel more alive.

Dare to Exit Safe and Enter Fear this coming year.

Untangle yourself from the safety net you've designed to protect yourself

against your own awakening.

All my best on this side and on the other.

~ L ~

"Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

~Dylan Thomas

the gift of enough

Whatever it is that you're waiting for,
whether it's


*
True
love,
money in the bank,
presents to be wrapped,
for someone you love to call,
 a package to arrive before Christmas,
everything to be done just the way it needs to be,
for your someone to actually appreciate you,
for your kids to stop calling your name,
to feel younger than last year,
for the holidays to be over,
for the holiday feeling to last all year,
to have a Christmas where you feel like a kid again,
for someone to forgive you for something you've done,
for a new addition to your family,
for the weather to be different than it is wherever you are,
for the world to be more peaceful in the coming year,
for all your dreams and resolutions to come true in 2014,
Let
what
you
have
be
enough.

"Be happy for no reason, like a child.

If you are happy for a reason, 

you're in trouble,

because that reason can be taken from you."

~Deepak Chopra

Let's stop waiting.
Wishing you all different versions of happy this season.

~L~

You hesitate to stab me with a word,

and know not -

silence is the sharper sword.

~ Samuel Johnson

ask Santa for this....

"Pain is merely a gentle nudge from the Universe to guide you home.

Suffering is when you resist it."

~Tom Cronin

Is it possible that the greatest gift you'll receive this year
is the gift of acute suffering, struggle, pain?

Because when you get up each time you fall, you gift yourself with that holy-crap-realization
that you just managed to survive yet another worse-than-ever scenario.

It's such an adult-like thing to ask for when the child in you only wants to soothe over its wounds with big giant colorful band-aids, to resist what's uncomfortable.

I say grow up and fall down.
Then get up and keep growing.

Enter this playground at your own risk and appreciate the ride.

~Happy Holidays,
L

Mandela leaves us with hope

"I learned that courage was not the absence of fear,

but the triumph over it.

The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, 

but he who conquers that fear."

~Nelson Mandela (1918-2013)

giving thanks to your scars

That scar on your face that everyone notices is more beautiful than your otherwise flawless skin.

It says more about where you've been and less about where you're going.

It's written all over your imperfect truth.

It's a trail.

The trail where no one wants to know where you're headed.

They are in awe of where you've been.

How you've survived.

No one looks ahead on a map without first looking at where they've come from.

So, the next time you feel ashamed of your mistakes, 

remember to be proud that you're still standing.

Be thankful that you are aged another day in your life and that you are better than yesterday.

Still coming from somewhere to get somewhere else.

Entering healing from an exit wound.

Maybe you got shot down.

Maybe you fell.

Either way, the beautiful scar is yours.

Own it.

There's always beauty in that kind of thankful.

Happy Thanksgiving.
I'm thankful for all of you who follow me at Soul Inspiration.

~ L ~

lesson on vulnerability

"Real isn't how you are made, said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you.  When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but really loves you, then you become Real."

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.

"Sometimes, said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful.  "When you are Real, you don't mind being hurt."

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse.  "You become.  It takes a long time.  That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out, and you get loose in the joints and very shabby.  

But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real, you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

~ excerpt from the children's story, The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams

this word in my dictionary III

ca-pac-i-ty: noun;    the maximum amount that something can contain.

~ ~ ~

Every public building has a known maximum capacity for it's occupants at any given point in time.

But do you know the capacity for your own inner private space?

Do you know when you've had enough, when you're about to burst?

Do you know where the exit is and what's in the way of it?

The final maximum occupancy ordered by the fire marshall will include all these types of considerations, making sure there is never too many people or obstacles in the room that getting out of the space in an emergency would prove impossible.  

But that's only known because somehow, somewhere at some point in time

someone couldn't get out.

It was a learned lesson. The space had to test itself to determine what it's capacity was.

By now you know one of my favorite intellectuals of all time is Eckhart Tolle.
On this matter, he says we have the most capacity for growth through the empty space that we allow to be.

Empty space has the capacity to be filled, displaced or ignored.

Less stuff in the space makes for more capacity inside.

Less is more.

You can learn your limits only through trial and error.

Someone once asked me,
"How do you exit discomfort?"

Frustration can come out of my seams
when the glue called 'defense mechanism' fails to do its job.

Time to review the maximum capacity limits within,
especially as the EXIT sign of 2013 is right around the corner.

~L~

scattered pictures

Ever drive by your old house, run into an old friend,
or smell something familiar and instantly you are sucked into a vacuum of time?

~ ~ ~

Memories are like airports.

You either can't wait to be taken away by them or you dread the thought of them.

Perhaps you left someone behind.  

Maybe they left you.

For a short while,

for a long while?

Either way, 

there you are - there they are,

being sucked high up into the atmosphere

in a thin metal tube,

in and out of your memory radar.

In an instant, 

loneliness creeps in and aches through your body like a dull heartbeat thud.

WAIT! COME BACK!

Don't go.

Stay right here where it's safe inside my head.

Who cares if you're delayed.

I need you here, delayed,

not there on someone else's good timing.

Of course I love you!

What?

Let you go, then?

Set you free?

Release the suction from my memory capsule?

How do I do that?

How does desperation make room for rationale?

Alright then.

Hold my hand,

sweet memory of mine,

and help me let you go.

If we only have what we remember,

then what would I have left of you?

Can you give me a sign that you're still here,

old memory in my head.

Do you remember me?

I've grown up a little.  A lot.
I was the girl who slept inside your walls,
the teenager who drove you when you were brand new.
The one who appreciated your smell before she knew how to appreciate.
The woman who remembers you.

Your plane is waiting,

right there next to my soul.

You can get on it, 

I understand.

Have a seat near the wing.

Pay attention where you took off

and where you will land.
Hold onto your compass.

And remember me too,

as the one who

held onto you 

even 

when

you

forgot.


~ L ~

if you grow on a vine....

You may not be into wine,

but consider the grape that is....

I am fascinated by the similarity of the wine making process

to that of the nature of a human being,
and to how we keep our souls alive on this Earth.

Alone we are one grape but collectively we are a magical and fascinating science of fermentation, of history, of love.

Consider what makes great wine.

A great chateau, prime soils that have been perfectly groomed throughout centuries, the location on the Earth which shelters the grapes from strong winds.

But then consider the human factor - the love that is given to the vines

like the gesture when each berry is carefully picked and treated with respect.

You are the grape.

Thomas Duroux, CEO of Chateau Palmer in France looks at a grape that was grown on a vineyard that is over 400 years old.

He says,

"Ah, I know you so well, I know your soul, I know your character,

but what do you want to tell me this year?"

While you are the same shape, the same fruit, from the same soil in the same spot,

You have evolved so much. Your history and all of the facts say so much about your DNA and how you taste, yet this year you are different than the last.

The grape is picked off it's life line, it's pressed for it's inner juice.

What is released from within you?

What gives?

Are you bitter because you were trapped in dry, dark soil 

or are you sweet because you felt so loved and grounded in this rich blackness?

The cork is pulled and parts of you are shared with millions

waiting to experience your beauty, 

waiting to judge your taste.

In this fleeting moment where you are so vulnerable with all your insides exposed,

you realize what an impression you can make on one person.  On many.
Your raw inner beauty is appreciated by so many because it's such truth.
It speaks louder than the hills you were grown upon and the name stamped on your bottle.

And once the last bottle of your soul has been opened and consumed,

it cannot be redone. 

It has lived and told stories and eventually that year is a collective memory of a generation.

How that one person remembers your uniqueness that night...

how he still thinks about you when he's an old man and he speaks of you as way more than just a memory...... 

How she remembers that year the grape was so special it won awards....

She even describes you as a musical symphony to her senses.....

....that is how you were known,
that is why you were here
and why you always will be.

~ L ~

I used to speak about the "Circle of Life" as though I were 80 years old and looking back on it.

"Oh, you're born, you grow up, you live, you become an adult, get married, have children, then they have children and then you die (though not necessarily in that order these days)."

But I am in fact inside the circle right now in this very moment.

It's spinning but I'm very still.

I see my 9-year-old daughter texting my father - her grandfather - and the tenderness with which he talks to her and

suddenly I'm 9 years old again.

Sliding back in that circle of time, I'm awkward in my own skin. I'm wearing a yellow shirt and orange shorts and my dad is trying to brush my long hair with his left hand. It's frizzy and my outfit doesn't match and by all accounts I'm a mess

but he thinks I'm pretty anyway.

I could feel it then but only now, inside the circle and very still,  do I have the words.

The words which my daughter now feels and will speak of when she's a mother.

I want to tell her about this circle but she needs to grow inside of it to feel alive in it her whole life.

I watch my mother cradle my children in her arms and cook them their favorite foods and

suddenly I'm in high school opening my packed lunch.

The root beer is on the bottom wrapped in a napkin so it doesn't fall through the bag.

The chicken sandwich with lettuce and mayo sits carefully on top of that so that it's cold all day.

My favorite snacks are gently placed on top of that, 

followed by the love note which is the first thing I see.

"I love you princess, Love Mom"

Oh, mom, you didn't even have to say it because I felt it then.

But only now, inside the circle and very still, do I have the words.

The words which my kids now feel and will know when they, too, are parents.

My brother tucks two lottery tickets inside my daughter's birthday card

with words of love that she understands.

"I love you more than Katy Perry loves fireworks, 

more than Taylor Swift loves umbrellas."

And suddenly I'm 7 years old in an oversized t-shirt crawling into my brother's bunk bed.

I'm scared but he doesn't say anything, he just scoots over and makes room.

Together they scratch off the lottery tickets.

But they've already won the jackpot of a lifetime.

He loves her like none other and she knows it. 

 She feels it because she's inside the circle too.

This morning I walked in my daughter's room and there, snuggled next to her,

is her little brother, curled up in a ball next to her warmth and I know that she must have made room for him last night in her bed because he, too, was scared.

Suddenly I am as still as ever.

Spinning slowly inside the circle but yet very still.

I want to keep spinning inside this Circle of Life

and be as present as I can be in this moment.

~ ~ ~

You're spinning too, right now on this planet Earth.

Very, very slowly.

But are you spinning slowly inside your life circle?

Slowly enough to realize that your life isn't square?

I invite you to spin still with me.

~ L ~

ad-ap-ta-tion; noun

In Death Valley, the hottest place on Earth with temps up to 134 degrees, 

Coyotes can scrape by on grubs and lizards whereas most other animals fail to survive.

I thought about this fact during the first two months at my new gym, my new home away from home.

  "Why do I feel so out of place here?", I thought.

Everything seemed foreign even though I'd been doing similar exercise for years.

There's no way I'm gonna like this place, I told myself.  

It's too.....different.  

I hated on it right away. Why is the floor like this? 

Who are these people?

And why didn't they notice when I was away for two weeks?

They should have called me dammit - what if I was dead?

I wanted to quit, but I'd been here before.

Here, in the quit pits of my own mind.

Alright, I thought, "Are you going to be the sea otter out of place in the desert or are you going to be the coyote?"

Day after day, I got more pissed off at myself for walking in and feeling so out of place.

I knew it wasn't them or the place or the room, the floor, the bars or the cubbies that wouldn't fit my drink.  

And that's what pissed me off most.

----->  It was ME.  <-----

"What do you want from this place, Lauren? From these People?

Do you want a cookie for doing a pull-up? 

Do you expect to be any more than a stranger to anyone here?"

Ugh, there I was, all caught up in the middle of a life lesson.

But what do I learn from this?

My answer was clear today.

They announced the workout. I'd be trying "butterfly" style pull-ups for the first time today.

I immediately hated the thought.  Hating on it already.

I can't do this. I'm going to fail. I want to do a regular pull up for crying out loud.

I'm good at those.

Think of the Coyote, Lauren.

Take it by the 'horns' and get up there and 

butterfly the shit out of the air,

out of your head and all its negative residual clutter up there.

You're a walking, thinking, breathing mammal, a machine

who can more than survive in these four walls

because the coyote THRIVES in Death Valley for god's sake!

I went for it with a new attitude.

One that had subsided in me over the past few months,

that was lurking in the dark valley of pity and quit and fear.

I did it.

And do you know, I was GOOD at it!

It was the surprise that I needed from no one else but me.

It was the lizard the coyote found under a rock after nearly starving.

As soon as I noticed me, so did the others, the 'others' that DID in fact notice that I was gone.

Maybe I hadn't noticed I was gone because I was never really........there.

But now here I was. 

Finally.

Home.

It's in a neighborhood near determination, 

across the street from courage

and on the other side of the tracks from fear.

You can find me there.

Keep feeding your mind the right food, L.

Eat a lizard and like it. 

Butterfly anything once.

Lesson: Adaptation

scabs and scars

The relief that comes when scratching an itch can be heaven.

It feels so good while it's happening.

But shortly thereafter comes the red skin followed by the burn.

Was the immediate scratch and relief worth 

the aftermath of raw skin and burn?

Does your answer depend on how long the burn takes to go away?

Or if a scar forms?

Such was the thought running through my head 

the other night in my bathtub

when the burning sensation of the scratch aftermath

interrupted my sanctuary of comfort 

and reminded me to pay attention next time with forethought.

 ~ Food for thought on this first day of September. ~

~ L

Des-per-a-tion; noun

"Hunger can change everything you thought you knew about yourself."

~ Quote from the movie 'Life of Pi'

Have you ever been that hungry for something?

(( and I'm not talking about food ))

~ L

Three weeks since I've posted and two weeks in Europe

should have paved the way for an oozing of words.

Something BIG, right?

But that's just the thing...

I      feel      void      of      words      right      now. 

Just as I did while I was standing amidst the ancient ruins of Delphi, Greece,
which was once regarded by Zeus as the center of the World.

I half expected to walk away with a new knowledge of ancient facts.

((  Who doesn't learn something at the center of the World?  ))

Instead I was reminded of what hasn't changed.

People still love and hate fiercely.

They feel safe in numbers and protect their families.

They laugh at themselves and each other and fight for what they believe in.

A smile and a tear are universally understood now just as they were 3,000 years ago.

I traveled halfway across the world and I only realized this?

(( sigh ))

But there I was and here I am.

(( At the center of human nature. ))

 Feeling very humbled and vulnerable in the center of 

((  Me  ))

Very much alive and yet void of words.

I      believe      that      says      something

~ L

Take the bull by the horns

If you're a regular reader of my posts, you'll know that I have a slight obsession with beginnings and endings, entrances and exits. 

Today is the beginning of August. 

Or shall I say the exit from July?

So what comes to mind to post today is from an excerpt from a book I'm reading. 

"Wild" by Cheryl Strayed. 

A true story. 

A woman, broken in every sense of the word,

Lost, lonely and completely ALONE, 

Decides to give up everything she owns and hike the Pacific Crest Trail from the Mojave Desert to Washington State,

with nothing but a pack and some hiking boots. 

On the 5th day of her three-month journey, 

She encountered a massive Texas Longhorn Bull. 

She closes her eyes as she finds and blows the orange whistle as loud as she can. 

She opened her eyes and and the bull was gone....

"I considered my options. 

There were only two and they were essentially the same. 

I could go back in the direction I'd come from, 

Or I could go forward in the direction I intended to go. 

The bull could be in either direction since I hadn't seen where he'd run once I closed my eyes. 

I could only choose between the bull that would take me back 

And the bull that would take me forward. 

And so I walked on. "

Ah, the choice of going backward or forward....

AND

the power of that choice. 

Every day holds that choice. 

Happy exit into entrance. 

~L

the bitch bandaid

Do you see the bitch across the room over there?

The one who won't look at you or for some reason doesn't realize that she, too, affects the space in the room?

Walk over to her casually.

Smile before you even get close.

Tell her how lovely her dress looks on her.

Not many people would pull that dress off the way she does.

And wow your hair! It's so silky.  What do you use?

And then, casually, return to the space you were standing 

over there across the room

and feel how she no longer is the bitch.

In fact, she never 'made' you feel that she was one.

You let her affect you.

Maybe you were even her own bitch over there.

And you took control over that situation

by walking over and giving her every reason 

to no longer feel intimidated by you in the first place.

You smile now.

Because you realize how you just made two people feel better.

And even if she's still a bitch?

You'll sleep better tonight than she will.

~L

Just as it feels good to walk into a room and feel like you belong, that all is familiar,

It feels equally and opposite as good to be anonymous for a change....

leaving your story outside that space and being only an individual with a purpose of filling that space.

Try people-watching for a good chunk of time and assume nothing.

And the next time you feel heavy with what drags you down in your atmosphere,

go be somewhere lighter.

failure to launch

You don't have to be Greg Louganis

to know that diving off of a diving board requires more than just good form.

I sat and watched on as kids were jumping off a diving board today.

There's no doubt that the mechanics of the board did it's job.

The spring board adjusts with it's flexibility depending on the weight of each person.

But that's not all that has to adjust.

At the end of that spring board there is a moment where opportunity meets courage.

This must happen at the right time for a successful attempt.

The moment the spring of the board gives your body the opportunity to launch,

your courage must meet it at the exact same time and say

Go ahead - jump.

This dichotomy shows how you will hit the water.

Think about this equation in your trials and endeavors in life.

You have a choice on launching into anything but first you have to study the mechanics of the platform. Set yourself up for success.

Are you graceful about your entrance into the water or are you already fearing your exit off the platform?

u-nit-ed; adjective

"What's the hardest part about being in a group?

The hardest part is constantly considering someone else -

even before yourself."

~Q-tip, A Tribe Called Quest

I heard this the other night as I watched the documentary

Beats, Rhymes & Life: The Travels of a Tribe Called Quest

And I thought:

Being a part of a 'group' is a conscious choice, an act, a responsibility.

But feeling like you belong to something bigger than you is a whole new freedom...

interesting.....belong to feel free.

I don't remember a time when I didn't feel a part of something bigger.

First, a part of a family.

Then, a part of creating one.

Being a parent means that even when your kids aren't next to you,

you're still no longer just one.

This invisible extension - the feeling of belonging,

is always turned on.

So today, Independence Day,

may be the birth of the free nation that I was born into,

but it's also the group I don't have to try to be a part of.

It's the one holiday that can't be argued by religion,

doesn't revolve around gift-giving,

and one that I share with some 300+ million others as a feeling.

u-nit-ed

/yoo'nitid'/

adjective: joined together politically, for a common purpose, or by common feelings.

act vs. react

Do you tend to speak up when someone affects you 

positively or negatively?

I struggle with this.

Because I know it takes effort to be extraordinary at something,

I tend to go out of my way to reinforce when someone goes out of their way to be just that.

Friend, cashier, employee, sister, mother - stranger on the sidewalk.

The lady at Walgreens today went out of her way to help me, which made 15 minutes of my day less frustrating.  I thanked her adamantly. While I usually get annoyed when I'm asked to go home and log onto a website to fill out a customer satisfaction survey, I knew right then and there I'd go home and do this one.  

~~~

I've also improved upon - but not perfected - the opposite end of the spectrum.

The younger version of me?

I'd speak up 100% of the time.

Who do you think you are? Why would you do this? Seriously?

The revised and continuously improving version?

I've kept quiet about a lot for a long time now.

There is definitely a benefit to giving yourself at least one night to sleep on something before you react.

I appreciate those who have helped coach me on when to speak up - and when NOT to.

I am very thankful that I've passed up addressing certain issues over the years.

However, for those of you who NEVER speak up and continue to let things be just because you want to avoid any and all confrontation - 

this isn't always helping the bigger picture, which is bigger than you.

This is not my operating system every time you start my engine.

We are all part of this picture. Communication is key.

Thank you to the person today who helped me realize that speaking up can make a difference in something bigger than just my own issue with something.

Ego nano? Yes.

Hybrid engine? Good.

Zero fire? I'll pass, thanks.

I appreciate my voice

even if you didn't notice my silence.

a class on that ass

The next time you are afraid of an asshole,

take 10 minutes out of your time to sit them down and 

ask them a personal question.

Maybe one about a love that didn't last, or why they're afraid of trust.

Listen to their ego while it's calm,

pay attention to the human being that really is in there

and remember that calmness

the next time your assumption of them in your head screams judgment.

~ L

the demise of size

It comes as no surprise that the SUPERsize generation has seen it's day.

Mini is in.

Paper-thin computers,

Cars so small they look more like cages,

ipod nano -  you can hardly push it's buttons.

the running shoe so light it's like AIR.

BIGGER is not better anymore.

Such is the ego when it is inflated, filled with negative thoughts about oneself that are bigger than the actual truth,

separating oneself from the world more and more the bigger it gets.

Perhaps you should try swallowing the pill in these words.

(( Shrink your ego here ))  

It's in style now.

EGOnano.

Observe your mind, big or small as it may be.

Release your grip.

Lay down your weapons.

Shrink.

How's Life?

"Blue zones" refer to places in the world where people live the longest.

Americans' focus on better health is centered mostly on exercise and food.

However, this is only a part of the equation in what makes a "Blue Zone", well.......Blue.

A more important factor that has been proven is social structure and sense of community - of belonging.

For example, on the Greek Island of Ikaria - a Blue Zone,

even antisocial personalities are taken in and payed attention to.

In other words, no one is alone. 

There is little judgment.

In Okinawa Japan, there is far less cancer, dementia and cardiovascular disease than America,

most of which is attributed to strong social networks and more regular exposure to Vitamin D.

We haven't figured it out yet, America.

Be kind to one another.

Think before you "unfriend" someone on Facebook.

Rest before you react.

Make the horn on your steering wheel useless.
And for God's sake forgive a little.

Read about the Blue Zones Project

for an interesting report on how and why people live past 100 years of age.

Also check out how happiness is measured across the globe - and how America scores on the Better Life Index.

Blue Zone of Sardinia, Italy

don't try this

The last time I tried staying awake and worrying about something

was the last time I accomplished nothing.

freedom

Sometimes the only choice you have

is to recognize that you do, in fact, have a choice.

she acts like summer and walks like rain

Sometimes I reflect on past writings, so on this rainy day in June I found the post I wrote exactly one year ago today.

A profound one for me to reflect upon because I'm reminded of my growth over the past 365 days.

Yet it's still raining.

STILL

I've come so far yet I still crave the thirst-quenching feeling that the rain and thunder brings.

For me it's a dark forecast thrown at a lighter me and the choice I've made is to embrace that it's here.

STILL

Don't be afraid of your atmosphere.

~~~

(( Post from June 6, 2012 ))

It's a rainy day over most of south Florida which means I'm in this boat on this lake

I've been here before - waist deep....head first....drowning - but today I'm very much afloat. It will never stop raining no matter how I evolve...and I like that.

But it always makes me stop and think about

what rain sounds like to me on this particular day...

I've missed you

I haven't written in 26 days.

Think I forgot about you?

I didn't.

You've been a longing that I needed to put to rest for the time.

I needed to study what it's like to be away from you.

I pushed away and you pulled me back in.

Dammit.

But the force of the push in relation to the pull was the study I needed to conduct.

Why do I stay away for 26 days when I have rarely been gone for 7 days at a time?

Letting go a bit doesn't mean giving up.

A day.  A week.  A month.  A season.

I'll start fresh today.

I didn't mean to let you down.

Forgive me.

Can we start over?

Hello, blog.

It's me - YOU.

this word in my dictionary II

Byproduct   [by-prod-uct]

noun

1. A secondary and sometimes unexpected consequence.

2. A side effect

Synonyms:  offshoot, outgrowth

~~~

Realizing more each day how

inner peace is a byproduct of the understanding that you can't rationalize every person or situation.

How could this happen and how could this person have done this?

Stop -  It happened.  They did.  And you don't understand it.

Period.

When I let it move through me it's still there, as a byproduct - but it's only residual effect is that I'm at peace with the fact that I let it go,

That's a good feeling when you can choose for this type of outgrowth.

smoke

The school bus turned the corner and I was no longer behind it on my bike.

Yet, I still inhaled the fumes it left behind....

....so invisible yet so unsettling in my chest.

I pushed the fog out of my lungs in one labored exhale

and while I was at it - 

I pushed the last 6 months of residual weight out, too.

Makes for one nice inhale of a Monday.

~ L ~

take it down a notch

Nothing like a little blood, some bruises and ripped clothes to 

teach a lesson to slow down during my days.  

No need to run.

Slow down.

You'll still get to where you're headed. 

more on compasses

If the only moment that truly matters is right now,

then why do we shape ourselves from our past

and look so onwardly to the future?

~~~

I find myself looking back often with a smile, as perplexed as I may be and how bad of a memory I have, I still see a different version of my old movies spin on my wreel when I pass the same intersections that haven't changed since I was little...the songs that come on that can remind me of certain smells from my past...the scar I see on my chin when I make a funny face in the mirror...the feeling I get when buy a polaroid camera for my son....and when I look at a compass which always brings me back to where I'm going and where I've been.

Would you change directions on your compass if you could go back?

All the right people would say no - it doesn't matter - what matters is right now.

I say it's a thought worth thinking about because moving in any direction is a lesson one way or the other. Maybe that's why I like how a compass works...

When it's held steady the needle points to its magnetic pole. It's soul.

You have to first be still to know to move forward or backward.

I'm moving still.....

Are you?

 ~The future comes one day at a time, no matter which direction you move.

And the past is still moving in you ~

dont' be scared

What binds you?

What holds you back?

  Is it something you can see in front of you? Behind you?

or do you just feel the fear of cutting the strings?

the strings...the bars....

the cage....

I was told that yesterday was

 National Poem-in-Your-Pocket-Day (interesting),

so it's no surprise to me that this very poem came home in my four-year-old son's pocket.

And in this poem, this is what bound Ted Kooser, an American poet: 

Breezy and warm

A round hay bale,

brown and blind, all shoulders,

huddled, bound tightly

by sky blue nylon twine.

Just so I awoke this morning, 

wrapped in fear.

Oh, red plastic flag on a stick

stuck into loose gravel,

driven over, snapped off,

propped up again and again,

give me your courage.

Ah, finally! Someone else in this world looks at objects wrapped up too tightly and feels their pain, envies other objects for their resilience.  

And oh, how grateful I am to recognize that it's because this feeling is no longer a part of my feeling vocabulary.

Bounded only by how much I've set myself free,

only how far the pendulum has swung in the opposite direction.

May you become untangled from all that binds you

and become free of the fear of being let go - and letting go.

I'd like to thank my rental car

As I drove away in my rental car that would be mine for the next three weeks

I thought to myself what a piece of JUNK!

It smells like old smoke, sounds like it's way out of shape

and of course where are all the bells and whistles on this thing??

I started to like the piece of shit in less than 24 hours.

No back-up camera? Twist your body around 800 times if you have to and get a work out for crying out loud.

No button to close the back hatch? I slammed that damn thing so hard that I believed I got my money's worth out of my new kickboxing class. 

BAM I don't need a button.

And oh what a beautiful thing to actually insert a key in an ignition and twist to start!

I've had key-injection withdrawals since the luxurious technology has robbed me of the ability to do much of anything that requires any effort when operating my vehicle.

Keyless entry, you're a waste of less time.

What else can I operate with this key? I love actually turning my wrist.

To my future vehicle - I want to turn you on.

And since the moon and the stars are all aligned right where they should be,

my son spilled apple juice on my iPhone.

It's dead.

I drove to the grocery store in my piece of shit rental 

with no phone and very little gas in the tank

and felt surprisingly free...

light as a feather

with      lots      of     space     inside

to absorb

the life that I was living right then

andnotclutteredwithfancythings.

~L~

this word in my dictionary

......(flee-ting)

adjective - passing swiftly; vanishing quickly; transient; transitory

synonyms: passing; flitting; flying; brief; fugitive

This word has been flashing through my mind lately like the lyrics of a song.
over and over and over.

And I can't help but wonder, what does this word mean to you?
Does it mean life is rushing by you
or
are you able to capture the moment, the fleeting moment, as it comes?

I appreciated a moment while I was buying my Dad a pair of shoes for his birthday today, as I do every year.  I smiled at the same counter I'd been at several years in a row now.

"Excuse me, ma'am, my Dad is a size 11 4E in these shoes, can you please look him up in your system and let me know which pair I bought him last year?"

Here I am, again, I thought.  How cool that I'm here again for another year of his life...
And in that same moment came a realization that one year I would not be here again for this occasion.

I wanted to say, "While you're at it, can you please guarantee that I will be back here next year?"

I feel as though I stood still, time was finally passing through me and not taking me with it.
This is what it feels like to appreciate a moment for all it's worth, 
all the joy that overcame me and all the realization that it's going to end soon. 
I'd be walking out of that store in a few moments and,
fleeting
as it may be,
It was an ordinary moment with such weight in my heart
and I thought I just don't ever want to be in the moment where
I have to pass that shoe store by one April and not walk in...
-that moment will come too, 
one day,
and I'm thankful now that I 
grabbed a hold of the
fleeting,
flying,
transient
moment
that was right then and there -

standing still as ever,

inhaling every ounce it had to offer me.

Happy Birthday, Dad. I'm always aware of how much you mean to me.

~ L ~

this makes sense

I cut parsley today.

I noticed something.

There is something very sexy about parsley.

Why, you ask?

Because when you cut it with a big, thick, sharp chopping knife

it looks even better than when it was safe and whole and leafy and full.

 BAM you're chopped into pieces but you look so swell.

How do your parts bounce back to life even better in pieces than when whole?

Your resilience is so sexy.

And your'e parsley for god's sake!

And if that's not enough I taste you and your'e just the right taste of fresh and bitter.

Bitterfresh.

Just what my senses needed.

Thank you. 

Seed planted in my note-to-self garden.

~L