It Is What It Is and I am a Mess

Just as I am I am within. Just as I am not nothing can be, Ever.

Who can say who I am, or am not?

I am imagination. I am indifference. I am serenity, not only, but a pot hole full of emotion.

I cannot say who I am or am not for the words are jumbled. Misconceptions, a meandering of the senses.

To touch is to hold onto everything. To see, is to view the world completely. To hear, is to listen to vocals in motion..

Life is beautiful. Life is endearing. Life is what you make it.

Some days, I feel so full and content and some days I am a mess. Lost in the ever changing emotions of what I consider living life to the fullest. Sometimes it feels like I could drown


. Sure I climbed down the ladder to see what it was like at the bottom of the well. I felt confident that the rope would hold where I tied it. How would I know that my knot wouldnt hold? So here I am at the bottom of the well, wondering how to get back up to the top. Im in a mess of my own making.

How often do we find ourselves in a pickle. Good intentions can only uncover somethings but full disclosure only happens when we are immersed in our own well without a rope to climb up. I know I will figure it out, find a way to call for help, maybe even climb up on my own. Its all in a days work, when working on ourselves. Never give up, and never get down on yourself becaause it is what it is and only sometimes is it a mess.

No Short Comings

I choose no intruder to awaken my knowledge. No vagabond dreamer to enlighten my soul. No genious to ponder over, for its own sake.

I ask for not a knock on my head to crack open the understanding of light that flows endlessly. Like a river its pathways moving through the tunnels of my delicate brain waves.

Do not speak upon my likely surrender. When at a moments notice I  am helpless to heal. My devotion to unpending glimpses, into an eternal bliss of my being, can anyone understand?

Without body or mind, the soul is deeply enriched with bliss. It knows that one can play out in forgiveness for so many blunders. Yet surprise me only if you can. I will rise above all that is kindredand see the aura of the self as a circle of continuous energy spinning into eternity.


My Mind Ran Backwards.

My mind ran backwards. It ran through time and didnt stop. There was no confrontation nor intimidation, it just couldnt stop. Did it know where it was going? No, I dont think so. This was a random act of uncivilized action. An experiment of the mind.

My thoughts followed. They had no reason either to do this but they did. Sentences produced from memories, words gathered at the front of the line but had no venue to see. They just gathered and waited for time to be the center of attraction.

My body was unaware, the brain still functioned, the heart beat to the pressure of blood being pursued by the rest of me. Inside and out, outside and in, I see through my eyes. Things just things, pictures that are created by words and sentences. Unrelated to this thing time is doing. My mind equates, my thinking is enabled, like a computer downloading for future reference.

I think, I will, I am. I will just wait for my mind to decide its done and then return to run forward, this time maybe stopping in the present for awhile.


Graciously I Say To You

Graciously I say to you, inside I believe in you, but on the outside I dont know you. Who are you?

Have you ever felt foreign to yourself? Detached, unwilling to accept who you are? To see yourself in the mirror and wonder, then squinting into the mirror and saying “who are you”? Somedays I know myself, and on other days I sense that I am in someone elses body. Does that make me different, other than normal? Its that feeling you get when you think you are seeing out of your bodies eyes and not your own.

It gives me a different perspective. A third party look at my agenda. If Im not me than can I realistically make the assumptions I do about the things I know? Who do I model myself? The me or the other me? If you think about it a little the only model we really can portrait is the self. We see ourselves first, discovering and uncovering things we know about. We also feel out ideas we do not know much about. How do we then direct the picture? To see ourselves involved makes us desire something about the experience, making us our own role model. Who looks up to who first? I think we look up to ourselves first, then maybe we consider someone else after. There are times when we may say “I would like to be like himor her”. But really how can we image ourselves that way. Mirrors dont lie in fact they tell the truth, if we see deep enough.

So when you say something gracious, its your own role modeling thats coming through. It comes in many ways. In thought, word and deed. Can we, should we, could we are the ways we think about the action and the experience. How we choose then reverts into the self role models way of dealing with whatever it is that you are dealing with.

Sometimes we are just to kind to ourselves. We refuse notice the parts of our plans that wont work, that shouldnt be impleminted. We graciously build up our ego, subconsciously untieing the knots in our brains and forming the opinion we seek. To kind, to dillusional, the mirror doesnt lie so why do we think we can fool the mirror. To understand the vision is to be ungrasious and truthful.

Realism, do we honestly understand that word. How realistic are we when we talk to the image in the mirror. Do we engauge, talk, understand what we ask of ourselves? Do we spend time, deciding what is the best option, or do we just pick a number and hope for the best? A little of everything I believe. Sometimes we know ourselves and sometimes we are a stranger to the very thoughts we are thinking. Detached, we can conquer, mentor and understand. We can then stand in the mirror and believe in the grace we give ourselves. So next time you so graciously say something to the image in the mirror, tell the image you love the person you see.IMG_0043

When Death Comes Knocking

The doorbell rings, your not expecting anyone? Do you answer? Maybe you look out the window, or peek through the drapes. The blinds are closed off and you do not really want any visitors. Your tired. Tired of everything, tired of the purposes of life, but the doorbell keeps ringing, what do you do.

This past month has been hard on you, hard on everyone. “When will it end” your mind says. “when will I get relief the body chimes back”. “Soon” your thoughts comment as they check off the box that says do not disturb.” I want to be alone” everyone says at the same time.

That darn doorbell. Can anyone else hear it screaming, “open up, I wont go away.” But no one else can hear it. No one can see the figure standing at the front door waiting to be let in. There is no one that can answer that door but you. There are others here but why are they not listening to me. Why cannot they see Im being tormented by that person at the door. Ring, ring , ring is all I can hear. Its driving me crazy.  “Just go answer says one thought, no stay where you are”, says another. Will someone help me make up my mind already. “I cant do it alone.” I yell to anyone that will listen. No one does, they are too busy lamenting and closing their eyes to the truth.

“Ok, give me a minute”, I finally say to whoever is out there. “I will be with you shortly.” I know, I say to myself, because as I look around no one is even paying attention to me. Its time, I remeber making an appointment on this day but I didnt realize it would come so soon. “I will be right with you, just let me get up and look around one more time.”

Everyone is all of a sudden paying attention to me. Did I burp, or maybe I accidently farted. Oh well at least now they are awake and listening. I get up out of my chair, invisable to those who gather around, and head to the door. As I look back I am still sitting there with my eyes closed. Someone reaches out and holds my hand. It comforts me and gives me courage. One foot forward I tell myself. I let the thoughts in my mind float away as if they are in a fsast moving river. I seem to replace them with memories of the past. Childhood dreams and such. It feels goos to get up and walk to the door, I feel free.

The door stands before me. Im not sure if I want to open it? I look back seeing all the people in the room. everyone is sad, but seemingly I am not. I want to open the door, I and excited to do so and lt that bell be quiet. My hand reaches out and I feel a warmth come over me, someone elses hand is holding mine. It expresses love and joy and a desire to finally let go.

My body lingures somewhere else, my heart beats a few more times, I open the


door and my soul greeets the person in front of me. I turn back with a wave of delight as I cross over the door into my new life, with one breath I am gone.

Middle of the road.

imageWhat happens when you find yourself in the middle of the road? Well I would hope you would pick a side either to the right or to the left getting out of the way of internal mindless traffic.The kind that is in your head a lot of the time. .Most of the time though we find we are in the middle of the road. Our thoughts cant seem to make up their minds to give us direction. Being in the middle isnt really balanced, its a waiting game. Hope fills the noads in your mind, craters awating commands to help us choose what it is we are choosing.

The word if comes up a lot because without if we would stand there in the middle until something or someone ran us over. Done and done again. Why dd the chicken cross the road? Well it sure wasnt to stop in the middle, on the yellow line. What should I do, is the middle, so is indecision. Sometimes indecision is a wake up call and sometimes its a long time before the taxi comes.

What does it take to cross the road of mindfulness? It takes tanacity and determination. It is understanding and knowledge. The knowledge comes from understanding who you are and where you want to go. Not aimlessly walking around in a haze but having a plan to choose wisely. Wisdom of the mistakes you have made and the wisdom to pick new ways of deciding. Have you been at that cross walk before? Maybe you wanted to jaywalk to get to the otherside quicker and was run over by a bad mistake. Wait and see. Let the light turn green and the cars stop before you decide. And for whatever reason do not stop in the middle and try to figure it all out. Doesnt work. You will be pulled in too many directions. Your thoughts will drive you crazy and you will turn around and go back. Regret the choice and start over. How many times have you done this?

We tend to be pulled in so many directions that the middle seems the safest. Not really. Options drive our lives faster than we know and when we get run over whle standing in the middle it will hurt. Be willing to change direction, be wise to know where you are going. Find facts in the challenges you face. Face the future with a smile and cross the middle with determination.

The Silence Within.

The silence within. Who speaks? Who knows? Who commands?

Sit within the silence and ask, “Who Speaks”?  Ask again, “Do I Know You”?

Does it feel comfortable for you to sit in solence? Breathing and inhaling, without announcing who you are and why you sit?

Reach out, touch the soul, it will not beat you nor will it yell loadly in your ear. It will listen and speak accordingly, unselfishly, patiently. It believes in the unknown source that seals your fate.

Do you mind? Does your mind, mind you sitting in silence with no known information flowing through the brain? Can you live without thoughts, without thinking?

Just sit, and do not expect your mind to let you believe you can sit. It will prank you, it will placate you, it will disown you. It believes it owns you and your thoughts. Who is this self that does such things?  Disolve and vanish into the silence and find out.

You and your self, your image, your knowledge, complete you. Memories float in the image and likeness of you. Close the door, open the window and let the music of the heart enter. Let the silence dance to this inner music and breathe. Breathe with the music of the soul, let it speak in the language the mind doesnt understand but the soul knows. You will lead as you will follow, unleashing the self made box you have trapped yourself in. You will make windows, a door and you will be free, to create wisdom.To be and to become someone who realizes that this silence is the wind that just blows words about.

Undo, this chain of memorized sentences. Stand naked inside your self made miage. Whisper love, within the silence and be set free.Dove Beautiful Age Photoshoot - 4

How Do you Know

So how do you know? How, do you know. Those thoughts that come and go. There is inspiration and intention always floating about. Theres also aspiration and irrationality digging in. Good ideas, how do you know? Bad Ideas, always you will find them somewhere.

Who says? You do. It comes from within a moments notice and then from out of the blue, you know. Right as it is, it is. Cant get over that, can you?

What goes? Round the corner, through the mind, into thinking. Who goes where and for how long? When will we get there? Who knows, and how do you know?

Reality points us down a path, is it well taken? Why do we care if it is. Do signs really make us feel better about going down that road?. Its still a road. How do we get there, from here? In fact where are you going? We go down the road. Bumpy or not, hole riddled or smooth we have to take it, our life depends on it. Who knows, we do.

Gotta go, oh and where are you going?  Who knows. Who says you have to go?  Cant you stay? No cant stay, movement is essential to knowing, what we know and how we know. Really, are sure? Sure why not.  Are we sure of anything? Of course we are not.


Thats why we have to go down the road. Not that road but the road. Just do it and then when we meet again at the stop sign you can tell me how it went, ok?

Then we will both know.