I’m in love with wild Turkey fuzzy babies. Curious and bouncing. Sticking close by Mom as she meanders through the yard. Bobbing and weaving through clover and plantain, their heads barely visible.
Giggle, gaggle growing by the day, by the light, by sounds of dusk calling them home. Safe in the trees Momma takes all. Recharging for the next days worth of meals. Meandering across wide open spaces. Choosing only the finest of insects to fill their belly pouches.
Straying just far enough away from Momma. Testing the waters as Mom remains on guard. Predators are plenty. The perfect little appetizer these little cuties would make. In weeks they’ll shed their fuzz. Their soft. For a serious coat of dress.
Creating their own path. Their own families. Their own parties of 8. Or 9. Or 13. The stand tall and taller. Puffed out makes looking for a chance to continue their lineage. Females dutifully accepting the offer. The cycle continues one more season. Here they come. Bumbling. Bouncing. Beautiful.
Sometimes I find myself wishing a day would move faster. Hoping I just make it. Through. Without too much turmoil. Then I’ll be home, able to breath and do more relaxing, choice activities. Or even breathe easy and space out. Whatever I do, it’ll be better once I’m out of _____ situation. 🤷🏻♀️
Sometimes there’s fear and apprehension around the events I will soon face. I can imagine terrifying scenarios. None of which ever materialize. Ever. You think I’d know by now, not to obsess and ruminate about the imagined catastrophe awaiting my arrival. Fear bags packed, ready to go. You think I’d be able to dismiss those thoughts and worries.
But not always. Fear is relentless. It has a way of taking over and pressuring us to minimally function in our power. Someone didn’t want us to realize our power. Now we carry that torch. We do it to ourselves. Dumb ourselves down.
As if, to be fabulous and centered and relaxed was dangerous to our existence…because it was. As if success was frowned upon …because it was. As if being a beacon of light would cause us to stand out in a negative, gloating way… because it did. No more AS IF. I’m making friends with fabulous, power, center – I’m making friends with fear. As one of my favorite teachers once told me, “I’m frightened and I’m alive. Do it afraid!”
I’m in love with sleepy smiles. Gently spreading east and west. Following a long night’s rest. Transforming the expressionless. An open invitation to hang out deep as shoulders sag. Head tilt welcoming each moment without expectation.
The glistening morning sun sweeping across my tired face, caressing my smile with golden warmth. I lie still basking, breathing, planning. Nothing. Existing fully in my expression. Of pleasantry, of nothingness, in the space between thoughts.
The gentle childlike energy swirling amidst my unassuming grin. Keeping me whole. Wanting me present. Between my lips, gracefully ushering in the newest, sweetest oxygen. To be ushered out in turn, discarded purposefully. Taking with it, everything challenging the grandest of facial postures.
Who are you really? What makes you tick? Not what do you do for a living. Not who are you in relationship to others…(mother, son, sister, brother, wife, grandpa, etc.). I was asked to describe who I am. After much thought about why I think I’m in existence, I came up with this description.
I am love. I am light. I am truth, real and raw. Both colorful and dark. I am synchronous with growth, death, rebirth following the cycles of nature. I am my own best friend, confidante and lover. I am sensual, funny and deep. I am a beautiful mix of human and spirit. Light and heavy. An unchanged core of varying human experience, I am a beautiful mess.
Thought I might take the time to express my gratitude for a lovely girl in my life. No, she’s not fancy. She’s not even hot but boy, she sure gets around. She gets me from point A to point B everyday and is incredibly reliable. I admit I only occasionally talk her into a bath if she’s obviously dirty – and boy she does seem to attract muck. I take her for granted occasionally, forgetting what she’s been through and seen in her 150,000 miles. I don’t cherish her as greatly as she deserves. I push her often, as I know she can handle the rough roads of life. Up curbs, over rocks and lawns 😳 just to park. I’ve never really been a rule follower and apparently she isn’t either. We’re a great team. She’s saved me from personal injury and even close calls over the Winters. Her turning radius is second to none, engine – strong. I’ve been known to jam a kayak, -mud and seaweed and all- in from the back all the way to the front. Not just once. She’s so forgiving. Everyday. Waiting, ready and willing to go on our next adventure. Rain or shine, blizzard or driving rain. I really appreciate my car. Here’s to my 2009 Chevy Trailblazer may our relationship always be this sweet.
Everywhere we go, what we see on social media, TV, magazines, pod casts, seminars, etc – is like a billboard showcasing how we are flawed. They are talking to us, right? Or just me? Ugh. At least this is how it feels…How we are doing it all wrong. What we should be doing. What could we be doing better, faster, cheaper, more efficiently, with less effort…How we are not doing enough. How we don’t know enough. That we’re not buying the right products. Not doing, trying, learning, relaxing, or efforting enough to make our lives “right”.
No shortage of messages. They might as well add, “ What the fuck are you doing with your life? You dumb ass. You are ___ years old and look at you, you’re doing it all wrong. You haven’t figured anything out. Where have you fucking been? Here, listen to me and I will FIX you.” Well, at least that’s what I hear.
So what do we do? We buy the supplements, the gadgets, the memberships, the subscriptions – just to terrorize ourselves more. To drive home how idiotic we feel. Perpetuating how ignorant, oblivious, unaware, unconscious, unenlightened, uninformed, unwitting and in-the-dark our existence is. Thanks a bunch. Thanks a fucking bunch. Love you, thank you for helping me to move further away from my true self, into an external, more aesthetically pleasing version of my existence.
Ever stop and think about the billions of dollars we flush down the “I suck at life” toilet? This nonsense has to stop. Such a brilliant business tho. Aren’t we all programmed to get on the self improvement bus? From a very young age 99% of us are told we do not measure up. We’re not someone else’s idea of perfection. Hearing this message loud and clear…Projected onto us by very unhappy adults, older siblings, well meaning aunts, uncles, grandparents, neighbors, coaches, teachers and even religious groups.
All this buy-in to self doubt was never ours to begin with. It was never part of our early fabric. I’ve never met a toddler who said, I’m not going to wear this cause it makes my arms look too fat or dance this way cause it’s weird or draw this picture cause it won’t come out perfectly and someone might laugh at me. Nope.
Before we got the message that we are flawed beyond fucking repair – we were happy-go-lucky beings, living by trial and error, as the wind blows, trying life out, discovering what makes us happy and healthy. We Experimented, made mistakes and got feedback that we JUST MIGHT fit in in our tribes. All without the crushing self judgement, without the feeling of “lack” or self blame if we got ill or came upon some troubles.
Do we really need repair? Or do we just need to fall in love with all our imperfections? All our FU’s? All the ways in which we give up, phone it in? Leave too soon? Stay too long? Take too much? Don’t take any? Don’t try? Try too much? Start many things? Finish nothing? We are the managers of our own programs.
There is nothing wrong with you. Never was. Tell those naysayer head voices to go F themselves. Their time in your life has expired. Feel good about recognizing their lies. All day long. Call them out. You are a beautiful mess. Allow yourself to know this.
I’m in love with leaves of orange, yellow and red. Tangerine orange bliss, lemonade sunrise and cherry jubilee.
Gathering at the slightest wind. Carried in circles, lifted high or dragged along the surface, their resting quarters, as uncertain as their beginnings.
Congregating by happenstance, piled, jumped in or bagged. Their colorful haphazard palettes etched in our Autumn minds. Sometimes called upon to spend their last days as insulation for the Spring trophy flowers. They agree, without hesitation. Who would decline such a mission?
To be a part of something larger. Beautiful and selfless in both life and eventual death. Sacrificing their nutrients for the greater good with purpose and on purpose.
Honorable to say the least.
Can WE make such claims? Are we all-in for the greater good?
I’m in love with leaves of red, yellow and orange.
Rain gifts us an invitation to heal through our senses. Our shoulders, held high with unresolved fears, may drop a little lower as we imagine the raindrops as a shower of peace and tranquility enveloping our physicality. The smell of rain conjures up feelings of a warm summer day when time seems to stand still as we soak in the suns presence on our thirsty skin.
Rain tastes like fresh ideas, rich with aliveness and hope, breathing in, taking in all life has to provide, we are brand new. We hear rain as a familiar tune, beckoning us to listen to its intoxicating message of “all is well”. We may see the rain but do we really SEE the rain? With our awareness on observing the watery veil that forms on our environment, we may accept or decline an invitation to be present, in the space between our thoughts.
Today I’m thankful for the animals that share our space.
The stealth snow owls, focused red tailed hawks, regal bobcats, black oil-slicked crows, curious deer, confused possums, five finger discount raccoons, cold sticky frogs, snakes using my garden as a dressing room, baby mice and the raggedy ass coyotes singing and announcing their intentions all night long. Invisible or seen. Vocal or silent. Life is fuller with your influence, richer with your light, more interesting with your presence in our space. Honoring all that sings late into the night. If just for today.
Don’t wait for someone to tell you you are amazing. Take magnificent out for a drive. Show lovely a flower in the yard. Have divine choose your clothes today. You are all of it. Show yourself that you are. Intend to be. Put yourself first. Sensual Sunday.
Serenade your fresh, healthy cells with beneficial, living foods. Ask it what else it needs. Be still, your heart, and listen. Like nobody’s watching. Cause, who cares? This is an inward excursion, solitary. Benefits, immediate.
Be the chaperone on your sensual field trip. Sense where fabric touches the body. Eyes closed, feel objects as-if the first time. The smooth. The rough. Wet. Slippery. Savor foods orally, longer and slower, the moment of transition to a swallow.
Play, ponder, reflect, meander, wonder, dance, baithe, be, touch, taste, feel, savor, sense, notice, saunter, and gaze practically guaranteeing your aliveness. Your – I Am Here-. Make this wise soul investment. Treat your nervous system to the gentle, the timeless. Don’t wait.