Blood & Rain

Memorial Day focuses on remembering those who lost their lives serving our country. While I feel this is important to pause and reflect upon, what about honoring those who survived doing the same? What about those who saw their comrades die, those who have survivor’s guilt, those who tended the wounds of the wounded – and persist with wounds of their own? I’ve felt this way for a long while. Yes, there is Veteran’s Day, yet I feel those who have survived are overlooked and downplayed.

Yesterday I had a first hand experience with the potential for losing a friend to an accidental gun shot wound. After he was on his way to surgery (and I’ve messaged with him today: he is doing quite ok), I was able to decompress. After the kids were gone I let loose the floodgates. After the tears had run their course, I was able to collect myself and attend a BBQ with loving friends who rubbed my shoulders, showed me to the bourbon (repeatedly), made me laugh and let me tell my story (I’ll omit the kissing & telling, near skinny dipping). They were my therapy. While I was never in danger during the incident, I can fully appreciate that soldiers are and soldiers in theater don’t easily get that break for R&R. Meanwhile, I do and I’m still dealing with many after shock.

Bands of rain fell in sheets
Washing the pavement clean
Blood mixing with rain
Wishing the water could
clear away the fears, shock
and the pain, all the same.

He’s been handling firearms
since before I took my first breath.
He was leaving my house and somehow
when holstering it, the Glock .9mm fired.
The bullet hit his calf.
I didn’t see the gun until after
he was “on the bus.”
Though I saw the muzzle flash,
it confused me, having not seen the gun.

Dizzying moments. where is my phone?
The kids are safe, inside, upstairs in
our new home. Calling 911. Applying
a makeshift tourniquet with his belt.
Keeping my neighbor in line, “have him
focus his eyes. Wave down the Fire Department.” And my
fave, “no! we’re not cutting his pants off!”

She told me to put his leg down when he started
to pass out. So glad I remembered some things
from when I was 16 years old. He called me
an hour later to thank me for being there
(I insisted on following him to his car to get
my guest parking pass back, what if I hadn’t?!)

Now to help my kids feel ok again in our new home. So
frightened they were that they called their father
via their tablet to his phone as I was talking with
the police officers about what happened.
Good to know they can hail outside help when needed.

I noticed the pool of blood after he was gone,
thinking I would need to hook up the hose to
wash it away. Not needed, rain fell today.

Bands of rain fell in sheets
Washing the pavement clean
Blood mixing with rain
Wishing the water could
clear away the fears, shock
and the pain, all the same.
I could have lost a friend on this day.

Grateful today and everyday for those who have served.

Believe

When we believe ourselves unworthy of Love, we settle for those who can only partially meet our needs. We do not believe we deserve better, so we rush in and take what we can get.

When we know our true value is infinite, we know we are worth the wait…and those who enter into our lives are worth the wait, too.

“…Now I’ll be bold
As well as strong
And use my head alongside my heart
So tame my flesh
And fix my eyes
A tethered mind freed from the lies

And I’ll kneel down,
Wait for now
I’ll kneel down,
Know my ground

Raise my hands
Paint my spirit gold
And bow my head
Keep my heart slow

‘Cause I will wait, I will wait for you…”

 

 

 

Painted Memories

I painted over my memories of you
sometimes in gold, mostly in blue
I changed my image of you, Picasso
Or maybe it was more like Matisse

Jagged edges, or displaced features
all in 3-D. Maybe some Van Gogh or Dali, too.
I’m learning now how not to paint over you

doing my best to keep it all as was
washing away the black washes
memories held in small swaths

hard to be a true witness of my truth
when i change the past and how i feel
about what happened based on
current circumstances

allowing the memories to remain
just as they were without being tainted
by the emotions that swirl and twirl
like snow in a globe,
around my paintings of you.

image: google

Ego’s Shadow

Outside of erotica, this feels like my most provocative post thus far. For me to see this aspect of myself, I almost went into a state of shock. 

The Ego, in the title, refers to the part of us that separates us from The All, that fears lack and that fights to defend itself ~ the survivalist. Many in the spiritual community work to eliminate or suppress the Ego. Personally, I believe that fighting against the Ego (or anything for that matter) just makes it stronger. Here I begin to surrender to my Ego. You can see my partial acceptance of myself as I repeatedly switch between first and third person…

The Darkness exhaled
reveals new layers
of armored protection.
The Shadow’s Game:
Complete Independence.
Rely on no one.
The facets of me that
cast long, dark shadows
when viewed. Her mantra:
“F-ck off! I don’t need you.”
The desire to be
Completely Independent.
Free from your opinions, deceptions,
orders, and freedom from my need of all of you.
To see me is to make me vulnerable.
The power felt within
has been utterly intoxicating.
Hearing her battle cry while she beats
her sword rhythmically against her gilded
shield. she’s taunting you to come near,
blood is her sport.
Peeling back the armor,
tender flesh afraid to fail.
Translucent thin skin,
vulnerable from within.
thus no one truly gets in.
For to open to you, to be true,
she gives power over to you.
Past manipulations still fresh
Tendons pulled like strings
by puppeteers. She sings,
“Never again to be a marionette.”
Her need for you makes
her vulnerable, she believes.
So she seeks to protect
me from you
(or you from me?)
Her strength is her libation.
She drinks deeply from her
own well. No, she doesn’t
want to want you.
Can you tell?
Yet she is battle worn.
No longer wanting to
alone cross the Rubicon.
Defeated & angry she retires.
There must be more to this life.
Folding inward, avoiding
falling on her own sword.
Her heart tender, her
desire: to be adored.
My own blood on her hands.
The good fight is found
in giving up the protection.
The good fight is found
by no longer fighting oneself
nor my need to need others.
~~~
In accepting this part of me, I am also noticing a greater sexual freedom: less sexual shame and a release of society’s rules about body image, sex, gender and sexuality…hopefully I’ll post soon about my changes in views regarding feminism. That might be a burner.
Image: Pintrest

 

Breathing Life

~Breathing in is called inspiration. It allows us to give birth to new ideas and emotions.
~Breathing out is called expiration. It allows us to release old ideas and emotions.

Like the tides, it is best when breathing is more or less balanced.

Sharp out breaths through sighs are an attempt to avoid feeling. It is an attempt to push something away that we do not want to either let go of or we do not want to experience feeling. It also prevents full inspiration.

The exhale needs to be soft and gentle like a whisper. Soft enough to avoid disturbing the scales on butterfly wings. Soft enough to release without forcing.

So now I work to slow down my out breath, feeling and allowing the old emotions and ideas to die, while recognizing them as best as I can. This allows a deeper in breath, as well.

Balancing the breath through having an equal time and velocity to the in and out breaths (inspiration ~ expiration) allows for a greater presence in the moment. This also builds less friction, creating fewer charges. There is less resistance to receiving new ideas through inspiration and it allows us to let go of the things which no longer serve us, through expiration.

It is hard to breathe in if we have not fully exhaled.

Namaste.

Dissolving Walls

walls built in protection

avoiding acidic experiences

where the protection from feeling

creates the very thing.

time now to dissolve the walls.

with each block removed

a release of energy,

a softening into trust,

a new vulnerability,

within renewed faith.

a budding Love for all

of existence and

the connections renewed

as walls dissolve;

an ability to move

further into you.

~~~~

Photo Courtesy of Tina Phillips at freedigitalphotos.net

Skin

Labored breathing

as the scalpel sinks in

going deep, beyond the skin

separating the truth from the sins.

time once again to shed skin

the anger and hatred, run deeply

along the veins.

painful at times to separate

the truth from the lies.

ancestral wounds carried forth,

inherited over by the next generations

how much anger is there?

the shadows of death lurk

about within the metastasis.

time to remove the skin,

revealing once again,

the beauty of truth within.

blood flowing freely, no longer bound

in lifeless energies.

shedding the skin,

basking again in the light within.