gift · Uncategorized

In Love #14

I’m in love with forehead kisses. Planted on prime real estate of the third eye space. Physically between the eyes. Spiritually, when this energy center is unblocked, we are capable of enhanced “vision”. To me this area is very sacred and allows me to connect spiritually with others for the collective good.

Forehead kisses, a gentle, confirming reminder of my significance. Of my “being seen”. A private honoring and offer of reverence for my existence. The spontaneous act usually coming to me without warning, without introduction, without permission.

My eyes close to savor the gesture. Allowing the feeling in and around, landing wherever needed. Warmth and connection spreading across my eyes, midbrain and encircling my head. Nothing to do about it, but allow. No destination, no motive, nothing more needs to happen. Seated deeply in a spiritual exchange of respect.

A profound understanding. Clarity around divine connection and mutual respect. The most tender of human expressions. Received. Received without words. Given. Given without expectation of return. The sweetest of gifts. The ultimate compliment. To me.

I’m in love with forehead kisses.

cat · love · Uncategorized

In Love #12

I’m in love with loud purring. Body shaking and telling of fondness for life. A soft, rhythmic blanket of furry love. Unscheduled pleasure. Rising and falling, sleeping and waking. Our eyes closed tightly, savoring the tune. Your whispers of fuzzy somethings at the foot of the bed.

The 3am motor, my favorite engine sound. Sheets ripple, erupt with fluttering plaid flannel. Sleepy pats offered. Met with nudges, of the predictable kind, to carry-on. Purring the kind of purr that becomes more audible with a rub.

This is where sensory joy lives. Comfortably. Amidst the pitter-patter of sounds from this warm furry throat. No troubles in this moment. Or this one. Or this one. I lay my heavy head on your fat, warm belly. Your kitty pillow accepts my forehead. Riding with the gift.

My ear bathed, absorbing the peaceful concert. Feeding my needy inner child soul with fizzy sound waves. Soothing even the most silent of frazzles. Within.

compassion

Thoughts On Compassion

Portrait by A Fish Named Karen 2012

Compassion is having the capacity to hold, and the wisdom to allow, deep love to flow from your mature heart space as an energetic offering, to a recipient/situation.

Compassion is not subject to permission, boundaries or reception.
It’s a private, organic offering/agreement between your higher self and ancient, wise mother heart.

I see compassion as two chambers of the same heart. One holding and honoring what WAS and the other holding and honoring what IS. Right and wrong, good and bad don’t exist, there is space and acceptance for all of it.

Compassion is having room for the entirety of an experience and seeing the inherent beauty, anyways.

Compassion is when you realize that caring deeply about others does not mean you have to surrender or negate some part of yourself.

Compassion is our loving acceptance of shades of gray in the human condition.

Compassion is a process by which you gaze, with eyes of softness, on those who could use holding, through their pain and struggle, especially when they can’t/won’t help themselves – regardless of their “deserving it”.

Compassion is standing onshore, looking into the eyes of pain in another, and remaining separate (without jumping in after them/merging with them in their pain) and loving them from dry land.

Compassion is realized, offered and received when the path to heart wisdom has been significantly cleared of the debris of trauma.

gratitude · Uncategorized

In Love #9

I’m in love with garden harvests. All the green and underground lovelies. Waiting to give their best for the cause. Rainbow palate in each haul. Insects unknowingly caught up in the action, making the trip back to the garden on their own.

Herbs, hots, sweets, medicinal cures and teas sharing a harvest basket. Happily sacrificing themselves for the good of the order. Whatever that means lol. Harvesting the mature, the impressive, the plenty. Garden basket and clippers in hand.

Harvest day. Harvest week. Row by row. I stand, lean, squat, bend, kneel. Feeling the gratitude arise. The basket filling over and again. Fresh, earthy gifts. I love garden harvests.

love · Uncategorized

In Love #5

I’m in love with cool breezes through open windows. The desire for fresh, no matter the season.

Craving the cool air pushing its way up and around, over and under the window cracked ever so slightly.

Craving even warm air pushing its way up and around, over and under the window cracked ever so slightly. A fuzzy, cozy air-blanket full of promise. Refreshing life’s staleness, one molecule at a time.

Air sneaking around, unnoticed, without a peep. Sudden and uninvited but nonetheless, met with an open airway.

Curling around each hair follicle. Hairs bristle, stand at attention. A welcome change and renewal. Breathing life into tired lungs and foggy minds. Diluting heavy thoughts and rigidity.

I’m in love with cool breezes though open windows.

appreciation · Uncategorized

That’s Wild

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.

With much gratitude.

Human Spirit · Joy · self love · suffering · Uncategorized · women

Don’t mind me

Don’t mind me, I’m just living my best life. As a woman, my natural state of being is confident, sensual, powerful, WILD. And get out of my way cause I’m feeling all of it. Something about this cool crisp air, flushing out the stagnant left over summer heat. It fans the embers of my soul. Embers that glow unapologetically, especially when everything around me is going to shit. I’m not trying to dumb down my joy or connection with spirit because someone else is suffering with debt, disease or divorce. I do give a shit but trust that I can still feel amazing even tho I’m surrounded with suffering.

I’m sure I could come up with something to torment myself over – 30 lbs overweight, seasonal allergies, nerve pain in my left ass cheek 🤪 or whathaveyou- but oh well, instead I’d rather fill my senses with the little, plentiful pleasures in life. Those lovely sensory field trips such as walking barefoot in the grass, wearing a fitted dress and heels for no reason, putting on a juicy orange-red lipstick, creating a fresh picked wild flower wreath for my head, sitting in the garden with my eyes closed…You know, simple, delicious shit because I matter. Because there are no guarantees. Because I don’t care if anyone approves. Because only I can do this for myself.

Be fabulous. Be a Queen or King. If just for a moment. If just for today. Anyways.

This or better.