WIND

Tonight, in my contorted emotional state, I excused myself for a walk – hoping the fresh air would clear the junk thoughts from my head. We live on a little peninsula that jets out into the marina and it’s perfect for taking walks where you end up precisely where you started – like a giant circle… Well, the weather can vary from one side of the peninsula to the other, especially at night. On this night it was overall pleasant except for the area that is exposed to the mouth of the marina… It was windy as all hell. My recently discovered malevolence for wind irked me. “However,” I pondered, “so does life in general sometimes.” So I plopped my big, pregnant, irritated and tearful self down in what seemed to be the point of convergence for all things windy, bound and determined to find something good about it… about something… anything.

The tethered ropes on the masts of every boat flapped furiously, bells and clips clamored, buoys whined as the boats leaned into them. The sound was like an orchestra of abstract sound, warming up before the grand performance. I watched the seagulls flap their wings with determination against the current. It was impossible to just coast on the breeze…not that some didn’t try. It was just awkwardly futile…nothing more than idly sitting in one place while looking purposeful. All of the overcompensation required for trying to take the easy way was almost painful to watch… the teetering and tobbling and being thrown off course- out of current… whipped upward or downward. I saw myself there. Letting the winds of life get the best of me all the time. Trying to coast my way through my obstacles haphazardly…without intention. I realized the difference between the seagulls that were successfully maneuvering through the wind and those who weren’t plainly laid in their intention… their destination. The victorious ones knew where they wanted to land… and they were doing everything in their power to get there. They were biting the bullet, facing their obstacles head on, changing course as needed, but always a relentless pursuant of their destination.

I didn’t arrive at a resolution for my own struggles… But I did find another avenue to acknowledge them on. Who really knows where I will finally land, but I do know that sometimes finding the start of your path is just as important, and the journey can change you forever.

Thanks for being part of my journey…

My Love

Monday, March 1, 2010 9:40 PM Revealed by schatzibug 0 comments
I have a certain reluctance to blogging on the subject of love. Today, however, I feel especially inclined to contend with my aversion because I’ve been accused of being in love. I couldn’t disagree entirely, except for the awareness I have that my definition and views on love are extraordinarily different from other people’s. I do not want to be charged with someone else's’ inference of the word. I don’t want the love I experience to be confused with some overused and diluted version. For me, love is not a feeling. Its not even a choice. LOVE is when you look into someones eyes and suddenly you go all the way inside, through their wounds and struggles... past their crimes and flaws... all the way to their soul, and you never want to leave.

I think this is why people get into relationships that don’t last. People want a feeling. They want to feel good and happy. The expectations start resting on the other to give that good an happy feeling and because humanity is frail, expectations are not always met. When you go all the way in to someone’s soul, its not about trying anymore. It just is.

I always imagined I'd fall in love nursing to health a blind soldier who was wounded in battle. Or maybe while rescuing someone in the middle of a blizzard, seconds before the avalanche hits. In a manner of speaking, I did. I thought it would be in more of a literal sense, but figuratively is no less true. Someone blind to their value and caught in the blizzard of heartache captured my heart some time ago. Their soul is a place of comfort to me. I haven’t left.

The luxury of love [by my definition] is that while it never dies, it can change with ease. The soul sees things and accepts things that the heart and mind cannot surrender to. A soul has incomprehensible space with which to grow in, while the mind and heart are enclaved in limited understanding and experience. You can be asked to stop loving someone or something and a soul knows what that means, it knows how to shift in compliance to the request and to still stay true to itself.

My kind of love exists in life and death and back into life. It survives the deepest darkest fog of pain, it celebrates the richest of joys.. and in its faithfulness, if you can make yourself still enough, it can be felt.