Relegated to be Lost Forever

RELEGATED TO BE LOST FOREVER

Oh, she put us in the basement
We sobbed and cried
No, no please not the basement
We'll be relegated to be lost forever more!
Inside of closets, hidden in boxes
She might, just maybe


But the basement?
Relegated to be lost forever
How could one women own so much
The hordes of music, shoes and art stuff
That could, would, SHOULD become
She gets fractured, needs to be anchored
For it all to become clear
She might, just maybe
Love anchors her
Holds her safe.

Open us all, pass on what's needed
Wanted else where
Turn us to Beauty,
De - clutter us all
Banish her to the basement
Send her there to do her art
Relegated to the basement
Will she then be lost forever?
Hidden from sight?

This house fills with Love
Spills out in measures untold
Anchored, she will bloom again
Be seen, be held, be heard
Relegated no place,
Everything in motion.
So rest for a bit in the basement
You are not lost forever
You are waiting at the boat yard
Waiting to embark

Relegated to the basement?
A closet? A box?
I THINK NOT!

Rosemary
04.07.06

as you can see this is an older piece - read it to a friend and wanted to share it here - Thank you AL

Emotion- Grief

Grief is an emotion or a sense that we don’t often take into account. It comes in to play at the loss of a loved one, or the end of a relationship. There are other times as well, some that it seems odd that it would be there. Moving for one. Yet do we recognize it’s effect or sometimes how long it is that we are living in a low grade version? Our society wants us always to Move On, Let it GO. We want to hide away from the uncomfortable.

Today ~ August 8th, is one of those days for me. It is an anniversary of the loss of my Mom; and oddly enough at this moment I can’t say how long Trudy has been gone. For me – today and when ever I need to say, “Oh, my Mom has passed on.” I find myself feeling like an orphan. I find myself raw!

I find that other events of grief seem to all come together in a bundle when I’m in the moment and clutches of Grief. I am also grateful for those moments, the tides of my truly blessed Life. There is a certain amount of luxury that comes with being able to feel and be in an emotion. To sit with and be consumed by the feelings. To be in the belly, the pit of fire, the tears that wash us clean.

I am also grateful for my Friends, that do not judge this about me, they allow the space I need. They give a gentle call here and there –“touching base”, to bring me into the rest of my world. I am an isolator when I am deeply in emotion. I feel the need to hide away, for it seems that most of society does not want us to FEEL; we are labeled too intense, too much. I laugh easy and cry just as easy. I am grateful and blessed by friends that can live with both of these full body responses to Life. I am always struck by how difficult it is for some folks to be around any kind of display of emotion. Our labels of these places of emotion, place a judgment of good or bad upon an event, a moment in a life. Why not invite the BEING in the whatever it is?

Today, I would invite each of us to remember to tell those close to us that they are loved. For one moment they are here and then everything changes. I would invite us to live our lives as fully and as present as we can. To not hide away from joy, sorrow, grief, laughter, fear. I believe it is easier to be with these places that are uncomfortable when we allow ourselves the time needed, instead of ‘moving on’. There is time enough for moving on and past. That comes from living into the moment, allowing, inviting all the bits that belong to the moment and perhaps some that don’t to be pulled out and looked over, touched and given space. Planting seeds of joy, compassion and kindness upon the hurts, the sadness. Let the rains fall, inviting growth.

Blessings.

Summer Child

Plants always remind me that we live in rhythms and cycles. For me the summer begins and ends around the visiting of my beautiful grand-daughter Huntyr. She is a summer child. Born in June days before the Summer Solstice. As we near the time of her arrival each year I find myself in Labour, a kin to the labour I was witness to on the night of her birth. Who will arrive? How long will the time to birth our bond take this year?

At this point summer began, full of rain bringing with it the sunshine smile of Huntyr. She too was somewhat a drift with her coming this summer as she is one- a teenager, two- in transition form the place she has called home for most of her life to her Dad’s childhood place of belonging, and third- who is she becoming and what has Gramie cooked up for this years offerings? Remember she’s a teen now – not as malleable as in some pass summers.

Sharing our own places of sadness and growing there were days when little was said between us. Days of laughter and new experiences; tarot cards, going to a medium, a Despacho Ceremony. A couple of movies and days at the beach – ok – the beach now as a teen became boring! I mean really who as a teen wants to hang on a beach with their Gramie? Days spent with friends of mine who share a desire and love for sewing and cloth. Huntyr, all but for the final quilting worked on a collage with fabric piece that is amazing. Leaving me a box of wonderful scarps of fabric that she gathered – like summer sand and shells they linger here for the moment.

Mom, my daughter arrived late June, and off into the east they did head; with the setting Sun. Taking with them my first stage of summer; leaving a storm of emotion. Loss, quite, a happiness, tears. One would think that having done this for so many summers I would be used to this cycle, yet each time it rolls around it catches me unprepared. Which causes me to wonder~ there are rhythms and cycles of life that we live within. Each time they come around they are different, to be experienced a new. Feeling all there is to the moment, to the time given. I wonder also; did I share with both my daughter Tirzah and my grand-daughter Huntyr how much I love them. Are they able to feel it in their bones, their very being when not here with me. And why is it that just before the leaving there is always some blow out of words, that strike the heart bringing fear. Does it still go back to being able to become independent of our parents? Does it smell of abandonment – knowing they will be leaving, the breakaway wave. I am grateful that Tirzah and I have learned to Breathe into these places, knowing the Love that is shared. I am hoping that the next time we are together; perhaps this cycle will no longer need to assert itself.

With the beginning of my second summer I was left in the quite to look at what cycles no longer serve me. Which ones are a rhythm to a song I no longer wish to sing? Ah, yes here it comes my invitation to you, my friends ~ What cycles are you part of that no longer serve you? What song do you wish to be singing. Can you invite yourself to a rhythm of compassion? How about Being, allowing yourself, your humanness? The days we fall out of sync with our song; gifting the time needed to be out of practice. Knowing there will be ‘…terrible, horrible, no good very bad days.’ (Sometimes just moments.) And afterward we will go back to our practice of Life and have wonderful, amazing, fabulous days. With our Inhalation we can invite the Divine, to fill our hearts and on the Exhalation as it is meant to do release that which does not serve.

Blessings.

i took the picture on my way home form Elsworth during the Monsoon Season.

too long away

So many thoughts and things I thought to write. Too long away, I've been from myself to sit and write. Some days are like that, the days stringing together lost pearls, knots forgotten as they slide along the string of my life.

I ask that we are kind and compassionate with ourselves as those days, turn to weeks and sometimes even turn to months. What then who holds us when we can not hold ourselves? What force of nature invites us to put one foot in front of the other, when we seem not to know our way?

Opening my arms, I am held by the air, my toes barefoot sink into the deep softness of Mother Earth. Indeed I can feel the love that lingers in the wind. My friends voices as they whisper there love in prayer. I am blessed.

Some days are like that one foot, one breath, there is love, there is life and I am grateful that it holds me in it's arms.






photo taken 4th July by CO'C- thanks for sharing ML
a reminder that all is as it is meant to be - trust.

Words - Use your words

As I ponder the words we use, the thought jumped into my head - what if there were no words to match to war, hate, hurt, would those things still exist? Might they become extinct like a rare flower or animals that live no more. By the sheer fact that we have stopped using them, all those words that are hurtful, mean. Or would be make up new ones, or not use our words at all. Nature doesn't use words - yet sometimes, the forces of nature feel as cruel as the words of hate.

Just a little something to ponder for a while.

my feet around a heart rock, I find them in all kinds of places.

I've left it there for you to find. From my heart to yours.

ROY-G-BIV

Rainbow Riot of Voices Colour
Treasure hunting on a Tuesday morning.

Others had no need of the items
And others - the joy to be able to have them.

REcycle, REuse, REgift, REnew
It becomes a Treasure in someone else's life.

Thrilled by the voices in Community
Thrilled by the colours of these proud people.

Joy and Laughter fill the Tuesday morning air.
I want to join in, I am working and only can listen as the joy passes by.

I wish I could have understood the words
Rich Rainbow Riot of Voices and Colour.

What? I didn't see this coming....

Suddenly the feeling of thunder deep inside – we blow up! Or perhaps, all of a sudden we look up to find ourselves miles from what we thought we might be living.

Both events cause turmoil, they can come as a part of a couple, a relationship with a friend, even at work. For myself and for friends that I’ve spoken with there is a shock-like state, unbelieving. A feeling of freezing in one’s movement, as if glued to the spot. Sometimes for only the briefest of moments, other times months upon months. No matter at which end of this event you are standing. I.E the receiver or the giver, for like it or not there is a gift that is given when one of these events happens.

Which brings to my mind a very curious state, when does the pressure or the fraying of the weave and wrap of our lives happen. More exactly how is it that it begins and we don’t notice it. That slowly, ever so slowly the threads and lines that are part and parcel of our everyday start to ravel. I am feeling that there must be clues, a call that goes unheard, unnoticed. I am wondering why and how.

To make it easier to follow my thoughts I will use the unraveling/fraying as I write, for I see it from both the storm and the unraveling; in my own life I have been with it in both ways. Neither less then the other in the impact it left behind. But we are peoples who forget that sometimes for there to be change Nature creates a Hurricane. We like to pretend that there is not that force within us. I will invite you to think again, but that is yet another bailiwick; better left for another time.

If it is a relationship of two it has me wondering – how do we expect the other to notice that something has gone amiss, when we our self have not really noticed the small unraveling or the fraying of the lines. Sometimes I feel it might be a word or a look that has changed, we make a choice to leave it unnoticed. To continue as though nothing at all has happened, it seems easier that way. Might it not be easier to make note, and create an invitation to dialogue? Not necessarily in the exact moment ~ I’m not feeling like it’s that easy! The simple “ I am wondering if you want to talk – I noticed, how I felt when….”. Of course bringing it back to us is sometimes difficult, we are feeling shocked, hurt, un-heard? To open a dialogue it is always best to bring it back to us.

The weave of story that makes us, gently frays. Perhaps, I feel-think that it begins with a small misunderstanding, or where our story lies over the weave of someone else’s that the unraveling happens. Mostly I feel that we don’t notice till there is a small hole, fixable with the help of two. Sometimes it seems that by the time we notice that there is a ‘wrongness’ in the fabric the hole is full of hurts, unspoken or fought about. Almost to late to have any conversation. Yet, I want to believe it is never too late, parties willing. I want to invite and encourage us all – attempt to have the conversation. Give some space, for ourselves as well as the other. Clear our thoughts, take the breath that helps ground us and exhale what is not needed in the moment, allow, follow this process till we find a stillness. Then create a time to dialogue.


I suppose what I am struck by for myself is that I have recently become frayed, and it was a friend’s question that made me notice how frayed and unraveled I had become. A slow unravel, one that had seemed to have gone unnoticed to my own psyche, or not? I suppose that here in lies the whole thing is how do we/I let the connection to another fray, and not notice or choose to look away as though it INS’t happening. I see where we need to be vigilant of what we allow to come in to our weaving as well as what we might send out to add to those in our circle. I also see how fragile we are as humans, yet also how strong and resilient we can be. Seems to me it is all in the attention we hold for what is important.

I invite us to notice more, the feel of the wind, it’s whisperings in our heart. That we may indeed make the time for the important conversations of our Life. Living into 100% of us and our creative natures.



Photo of clouds by T. Griffin – image name storm brewing

what do you notice hiding there?
Thank you for being a part of the weaving of my life.