Perfect Day

What more could I want than this perfect day? Lazy clouds drifting across a pale blue sky, sun blazing down warmth, a cool pond to jump into when the heat brings a need for refreshment. I lie around all day on the dock, bobbing gently with the slow sloshing of the water and occasional big waves from passing motorboats. Gentle breezes rustle the leaves and cool things off just a little bit.Sipping Power Ade , first cool from a bottle with beads of sweat in response to the heat, then warm when the sun’s rays have gazed on it a while. A good book – the kind you didn’t plan on reading but stumbled upon when looking for something to dive into. I got this one (The Poisonwood Bible) at the used bookstore along with a handful of other books, most of which I’ve never heard of. The book has chapters of the perfect length – just long enough for me to get hot and need to cool off in the shimmering water. Spending the day in my bathing suit, the one I’ve had for so many years and just can’t get myself to get rid of because it’s just so familiar and fits just right, although the strap on the top is now held together with a safety pin.

Sunglasses. A hat. Power Ade. Salty potato chips (dipped in ketchup). Sunscreen. A good book. Sunshine. A dock on a cool lake. I wish everyday could be like today with such peace and ease. Nothing I have to do but be. Not really lazy but peaceful, serene, and introspective. Warmed by the soft, bright sunshine and cooled by the rippling blue water. Nothing else seems to matter but this moment.
--June 26, 2007

Scars

I have my share of scars.
I’ve been cut, burned, broken.
I’ve bled as you have bled.
My scars are the witness
To my strength,
My perseverance,
The courage I possess.
Each scar reminds me to push through
Because I’ve already been through so much.
Life gets messy when you live it right.
There’s never an easy fix
And if it seems like there is one
It’s probably the wrong choice to make.
Healing is hard
And scars mark us.
But we are not wounded
Unless we just sit around and lick our wounds.
We are not victims
Unless we see ourselves as helpless.
We are survivors.
I am a survivor.
Strong.
Courageous.
Free to create my life!
--June 1, 2007

What is a dream?

What is a dream
But a wing and a prayer.
A bit of fairy dust
A wisp of angel hair.

The crashing of waves
As they come to the shore.
Contented with life
But still wanting more.

A blue sky day,
Not a clouds in the sky.
A gentle butterfly
Fluttering by.

All the prayers in the world,
All the wishes and dreams,
Can be answered one moment
Then come apart at the seams.

But no wish is too little,
No dream too small.
You don’t have to dream big.
You don’t have to dream tall.

If you sit by the ocean
With sun on your face.
You may feel yourself slowing
Life’s quickening pace.

You may feel your heart swell
With each swell of the sea.
You may feel that’s enough,
Let go. Just be.

--August 27, 2006

Jagged Yesterdays

Time can move onward so quickly. It’s as though it’s trying to run fast to catch up with some illusive treasure waiting just around the bend, sprinting toward tomorrow in hopes of finding something better or leaving the past far behind. But things follow us, even if we try to outrun them. Things are always there nipping at our heels, making us run faster in hopes of finding safety in a better tomorrow. You can’t outrun your past for it is a past of who you are. You can’t leave it behind any easier than you could leave a part of your heart behind.

Trying to outrun the past never works, the past can keep pace and always find you. But sometimes you can’t embrace it either without the jagged edges tearing into you, creating fresh wounds and re-opening old ones. What is one to do, then, with these old experiences and memories?

I see the footprints left behind; the scars only half-healed; the tracks of teardrops in my soul. And I see them in you. Your eyes are bright but show pain, disappointment, sorrow. Do not close the doorways of your soul to me, for I understand. Without words, I can see you clearly. Your tear-stained cheeks match my own. Your wounded heart, trying to heal, is so familiar to me. The brushstrokes of your life have been harsh at times, leaving streaks of sorrow.

We are so much the same, with pasts nipping at our heels and wounds half-healed. But I don’t presume to know your pain, that belongs only to you. I may understand, sympathize, empathize, but I do not know your pain the way you do. Our pasts are our own, belonging to no one else. And our futures are ours to create and mold. The past will always be there with us, but each day we create more past, leaving behind new experiences. Perhaps we can smooth those jagged edges with each new past we create. Life constantly changes as we shape our present and future. And as tomorrow becomes today, today will become yesterday and we must leave it behind. So make today worth remembering and maybe enough good todays will make the jagged yesterdays fade away.

--June 26, 2007

Expectations

Everyone has expectations, for themselves and for other people. And far too often we confuse expectations with real wanting, needing, desiring. We have our own lives planned out to a point where we forget to ask ourselves who we are doing it for and what we really want to do deep down in our hearts.

I kept plodding along on a path of expectations for most of my life, too afraid to veer off into the less sure darkness to the right or left. Expectations other people had about me came to largely define me – my life was going to follow a certain path because that’s what I was “supposed” to do. I was terrified of breaking out of the box people had put me in because it might shock them, and what might they think of me then?

But expectations fall short eventually and we realize we can’t live up to them, and that we don’t want to let expectations define us. We can’t become…ourselves by allowing other people to determine the course of our lives. Expectations hold us back and pin us down. I want to shake them free from my mane and race in a different direction. I want to shock people with my boldness, the fierce and mighty side of my personality. I want to define myself and my future and be open to whatever the universe may choose to throw at me. It’s my time, my life, mine to fight for or surrender to, my time to take flight, soar, want more, and start to run free, wind in my hair and heart pumping wildly as I take off towards a future determined by no one else but me.
--July 3, 2007

Butterfly

I have scars
Parts of me that broke
And never fully healed.
They are just there,
A part of me
And I make no apologies
For who I am
And the path that’s brought me here.
Ripples in the water
Change the whole current,
The butterfly affect.
I have built a cocoon around myself,
Around my life,
To try to heal my lasting scars,
To protect me, to make me feel safe.
But one day I will emerge,
A beautiful butterfly,
And I will change the world with a breath of wind.
Moved by my wings,
Ever so slightly
And no one may notice,
And no one may care,
But perhaps there is one person out there,
Just one,
Who will feel the breath of wind
Whispering in their ear
And maybe,
Just maybe,
They will be inspired to change the world
One butterfly at a time.
--October 13, 2006

My Independence Day

I am an independence day baby, born 25 years ago today. I have never
really taken independence by the horns, though. But this year will be
my year of independence. This birthday is different, it marks the
beginning of a year of change. I am sprouting wings and learning to fly
on my own.

Although things in my past may have felt like they
were holding me back, pinning me down to the solid ground and
preventing my flight, I have found my way to let go and start to ride
the winds. This day, my 25th birthday, marks a kind of rebirth, a new beginning and a new life. My life of independence. My independence day.

Today
is special, a day I claim for myself in the midst of a bustling, busy
world moving so fast it’s hard to keep up sometimes. After many long
years of feeling like I’m sitting things out, watching from the
sidelines, I am rejoining the world, or it is rejoining me in a sense.
My new life is beginning – this will be my year of flight so just watch
me soar!