Showing posts with label Just Writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Just Writing. Show all posts

Thursday, September 2, 2010

And So We All Grow

the days go by slower and slower,
and still they seem to be gone in a swallow.
the sun rises, the sun sets,
the tides ebb, the tides flow,
the moon waxes, the moon wanes.
the same cycles over and over again,
and yet,
we are never the same person,
over and over again.

we say we haven't changed,
but we always are,
we always do.
we say we want things to remin the same.
we say we want stability.
what we want is change because what we want
is growth.

but remember when we were growing up
and our bones hurt
because they were growing
and changing?
that's the way of life.
it's not meant to feel good all the time,
it's meant to be lived.

we go through life standing up and sitting down
and building up and tearing down
and sitting still and standing tall
and raising fists and raising masks.
we are who we are each day and on and on,
and that person is never again
the same as we are right now.
we are like the glass of wine that is different with each sip,
as each moment the air changes the flavor of the grape.
the layers are exfoliated by oxygen and movement,
and oh so are we.

something is wrong when we want things to stay the same,
when the status quo is enough,
when it's all we strive for.
something is right when we're in search of something more,
something greater,
something different.

we are not unhappy with who we are or where we are,
we are simply curious beings, and want to know what else is out there.
we want to know how things work,
understand the meaning of the unknowns of the world.
this does not make us pessimists or unfaithful,
this makes us the curious children we were born as,
and maybe some of us
just forgot how to be curious.

maybe it felt good to know something
and so we got stuck in knowing
and being inside the box of understanding
what was happening.
and so we got comfortable and set up camp
and forgot it was camp,
and stayed forever.

we are living in our mud walls,
thinking they are concrete.
the walls of our minds are not concrete,
they are matter.
they are fluid.
they are ever changing and curious.
they are always seeking more.
they are always hungry for what's next.

and we are not dissatisfied when we are curious about what else is out there,
we are in fact so satisfied,
that we can't help but want more of that satisfaction
of finding out
what else will work
in our lives.

i believe this with every fiber of my being.

so this is the way of the world.
curiosity.
the river flowing, up and down and in and out.
the river dries up, the river overflows.
the river beholds an ancient truth of allowing what is to be, and seeing what else is up around the bend.
the river is all knowing and wise.
and it is fed by its mother,
the ocean,
and it feeds its mother,
the ocean.
and it all comes from the same place,
the wonderful vast universe of water and evaporation
and clouds and rain,
the cycle that began it all that we know almost nothing about,
it would seem.

and so we wonder,
what is next
and because we don't know,
we have fear
because we have forgotten what it's like to be
curious.
we have been taught to fear the unknown,
rather than embrace it.
we associate the unknown with dark alleys
and scary men with no boundaries.
we associate the unknown with lies and bitterness
and fake smiles to take something from us.
it's not that we ought to believe everything we hear,
or walk down every dark alley.
it's that we ought to trust ourselves,
our gut,
our intuition,
and still
move forward.

maybe it means choosing a different walkway or person to work with,
but it can't mean choosing the same old familiar things
day in and day out
simply because it's what we know.

when we set out to strand ourselves on an island of the unknown,
bring with us those things, those people that are familiar to us,
that give us comfort.
and so we still grow,
we still change,
and we grow
with those familiar people,
with those comforts of home,
and so they grow, too.

and so we all grow.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

750 words write mind

this morning i did a little word-association exercise via 750words.com.

as i read through the 750 words, some combinations made sense while others seemed to come out of nowhere. i tried not to repeat any words, but even after reading through the list a couple of times, i began to see words melding together and my thoughts drifted to other words i could have used instead. the mind of a writer, indeed.

tired. weary. gray. hot. slummy. wild. heart. brilliant. being. ornery. flagrant. foul. chicken. bugawck. lenient. principal. order. way. stuff. turkey. thanks. many. lots. parking. beach. sand. ocean. waves. baseball. sports. announcers. costas. rica. quote. letter. blog. paragraph. seo. daily. new. keyword. adword. google. adhere. blunt. brief. point. boxers. hanes. shirts. bacon. wrapped. present. christmas. mom. dad. cancer. life. death. grandma. grandpa. old. new. baby. twins. boys. born. living. still. calm. peace. tranquil. serenity. movie. lines. ropes. carpet. red. pop. corn. blue. chips. stock. market. store. ralph. grocer. butcher. play. kids. playground. swings. summer. swimming. pool. lifeguard. station. hut. ramp. on. off. freeway. lion. cage. roar. anger. freeing. liberation. 2010. y2k. bozos. earthquake. water. shutoff. valve. gas. fire. burn. ash. smoke. cigarette. stink. lungs. rot. decay. cay. timoty. island. trees. palm. coconut. frond. pineapple. hawaii. vacation. surfing. honolulu. relax. chill. solitude. massage. warm. cozy. cove. rocks. salt. fish. shark. dolphin. anew. seek. ice. fall. pick. battles. wars. wage. economy. down. south. north. pole. arctic. bears. polar. iceberg. warming. global. earth. planet. green. cycle. bike. walk. carbon. footprint. reduce. around. high. crack. home. less. restrict. aware. awake. arrest. police. car. truck. suv. trip. drive. road. asphalt. concrete. jungle. monkey. chimp. words. sign. language. shift. thinking. believe. animal. nature. instinct. intuition. gut. wrench. plumber. pipes. clogged. twist. snake. swamp. aligator. crocodile. chocodile. junk. eat. ack. hack. vomit. sick. heal. meditate. mind. brain. activity. stagnant. bliss. achieve. excel. blow. corporate. exact. enough. never. much. always. depth. need. skill. cohesive. communicate. swear. passive. agressive. type. keyboard. click. tap. nudge. push. pull. ebb. flow. speed. meth. capital. washington. dc. comics. books. cartoons. daffy. duck. bugs. bunny. wabbit. elmer. glue. hold. together. smile. laugh. one. all. we. us. our. common. ground. electric. youth. elder. generation. x. y. chromosome. genetics. healthy. disease. decide. choice. pregnant. not. early. late. embryo. life. rights. taken. away. afar. women. man. stick. stone. break. bone. fix. necessary. no. leave. now. alone. free. bird. fly. plane. superman. superhero. out. crowd. afraid. allure. magazine. pages. rip. shred. tear. up. aloof. sacred. feminine. genuine. real. authentic. you. yourself. have. pink. nose. edge. inside. outside. fear. claw. scratch. door. foot. wedge. butt. pant. leg. naked. truth. elephant. room. lie. white. slave. driver. daisy. miss. pushing. under. six. feet. grave. digger. shallow. rain. feel. drink. one. more. grace. gone. camera. canyon. left. sunset. rise. occasion. falter. help. hand. finger. nail. head. own. responsible. child. latchkey. pots. pans. cook. self. alcoholic. mother. cows. moo. hill. pout. shit. lip. steal. thief. heart. whisker. thick. poke. through. me. jog. mile. eight. seven. countdown. celebrate. party. 1999. over. under. gamble. lose. nothing. back. shirt. shoes. flip. flop. waver. waiver. clause. contract. deal. card. cookie. crumble. behave. consequence. yawn. teeth. growl. bark. carve. name. love. knife. sword. daggar. cuts. deep. seated. set. broken. doctor. nurse. soccer. bask. glory. raise. arms. glee. sing. pop. culture. cult. classic. shining. jack. dull. boy. donor. marrow. plates. blood. family. ties. thicker. bleed. red. rant. rave. reviews. moral. judgment. ethic. vote. judge. save. constitution. civil. case. hook. sinker. comedy. show. tell. ask. don't. realize. blinders. horse. ass. tail. swat. flat. tummy. saggy. boob. tv. program. remote. control. authority. fought. law. won. johhny. cougar. melons. camp. tent. stake. mallet. mullet. lame. hair. trim. lesbian. landscape. brow. furrow. gag. spoon. shoplift. pootie. jerry. tom. couch. crazy. misfit. mishap. weave. web. charlotte. genius. bar. draught. beer. lite. miller. case. pillow. fight. cat. dog. jax. clean. floor. termite. gross. expensive. homeowner. overrated. adulthood. middle. school. junior. senior. college. exam. pass. fail. learn. succeed. grow. align. forage. plunder. blunder. mistake. con. pro. football. american. rugby. hairpiece. trying. false. sense. security. guard. shot. heard. round. gimme. putt. tee. fairway. chunk. shank. alley. dark. lit. bounce. baller. sorbet. champaign. mimosa. sunday. morning. ease. bed. enjoy. sleep. flail. try. cling. blanket. belong. curse. goat. bambino. little. tiny. teeny. weenie. button. penis. nah. fold. over. comb. iron. towel. toss. salad. dressing. showers. benches. hurdles. marks. slim. chance. go. 200. dollars. cash. cool. dirty. money. rich. wealth. health. self. esteem. colleague. boss. blink. tipping. jeans. tennis. billie. holiday. paid. month. year. sail. around. bay. idea. lab. science. major. english. minor. math. journal. accountant. log. irs. tax. honor. values. pilot. force. army. navy. marine. biology. bigger. aware. mindful. action. authentic. reality. dreamy. mac. book. author. wannabe. gogo. stage. cheer. friends. core. abundant. everything. willful. disaster. wonders. plight. mankind. neanderthal. study. discovery. national. international. worldly. trotter. basketball. dribble. wipe. moist. cake. chocolate. vanilla. creamery. cheese. house. indeed. ownership. wood. fence. glass. ceiling. feminist. movement. classy. broads. understand. seek. knowledge. accept.

751: want.
752: more.

Monday, July 26, 2010

words, dying to come out will not be kept at bay

words, dying to come out will not be kept at bay.
shared with you they hold water like salt,
kept from you they hold water like cracked dams
killing the dense population of my mind.

________

core burns hard within
singes paper mind
healing happens outside me

________

stumbles alone quietly
through the night dream air
i own reality

________

among brilliant cats drinking
everglades from gators
harp indigenous jowls kept.

labor mars naivete
offers prayers quick
resolves sore time, used venom

willful xenons yearning zeal.

________

the great thing about poetry is that it means something different to everyone. we see the words on the page, the screen differently. we share the experiences in our mind with what we see in front of us and we say, oh that makes sense, or i don't get it, or i just can't think about this right now. we hide under the covers, we blow them off, we creep tentatively into the daylight, wondering how we'll be affected, afflicted, inflicted, infected, reflected, rejected. we make up words, signs, wisdom in our heads so when something goes wrong we say, see i told you so, even if just to our inner child who tried to dream one last time.

and in the end, you're still the same you, and i'm still the same me, and time moves on as ever it does, as ever it will.

we will survive. it's all we know how to do.

Thursday, June 24, 2010

i am

when i find myself in playful soul respite and relief, i write…

playfully, reality, rawly, really.
i write my truth.
i write my soul.
i allow my self to come out and play.
i cease from hiding and move into being.

i can relax and enjoy the writing without feeling like
i have to
need to
got to
get it
done.

i can let the words roll off the tips of my fingers and live on the page just as they like.
just as they are.
just as i am.

i am free.
i am alive.
i am.

Monday, June 7, 2010

Truth Speaks

my truth says…

my truth says,
you are not alone.
my truth says,
you are big enough,
you are just right.

my truth says,
you are powerful beyond words.
my truth says,
you are powerful with your words.
my truth says,
you are powerful when you
speak your words.

my truth says,
you are perfect.
my truth says,
you are brilliant.
my truth says,
you are already
something;
you are already
someone.

my truth says,
you are brave.
my truth says,
your courage is beautiful.
my truth says,
your tears wash away
what no longer is;
the feeling is bliss.

my truth says,
you are all that you need to be;
you are growing.
my truth says,
just be you.
my truth says,
you are worth it.

Friday, June 4, 2010

I Wonder

i wonder…

i wonder what needs to be said. i wonder what needs to be heard. i wonder what fears lie beneath.

i wonder.

i wonder.

i wonder where i will go next. i wonder where my writing will take me. i wonder what questions are dying to be asked. i wonder what’s dying to come out.

i wonder what i know but don’t say. i wonder what i say but don’t know.

i wonder what’s next. i wonder what a-ha is lurking in the underground. i wonder what’s been left unsaid. i wonder what’s been silent. i wonder what silence will be heard.

i wonder what piece of me is dying inside. i wonder what piece of me is thriving. i wonder what piece of me is feeding off the fear that has hold of my heart.

i wonder when my heart will let go. i wonder when my heart has had enough. i wonder when my soul will step in.

i wonder when my writing will be my soul. i wonder what writing is my soul. i wonder what writing is at the center of my heart, the center of my soul.

i wonder what’s deep. i wonder what’s raw. i wonder what’s inside.

what do you wonder?

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

The Place I'm Meant To Go [Updated with Video]

I wrote this yesterday in one of the camp fires over at Julie Jordan Scott's Writing Intensive Camp.

the place i’m meant to go with my writing and my words is….

deep. raw. inside. what i think people won’t love me for. what i think people will judge me for. what i think people will hate me for.

the place i fear the most. that fear guides me into the fears of others and calls out to come and play, what would stay underground and unheard for years.

where i have feared to go. where others have feared to go. where others have no idea.

the place no one else can get to. the place only i can see. the place only my intuition can shed light on. the place we all need to go.

the place i need to be. if i focus on nothing else, i ought to be focused on what’s dying to come out.

the place i’m meant to go in my writing is the heart. the soul. the center.


[Updated with video below, also as seen on Authentic Realities 6.1.10]

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Tommorrow's Sun

Day breaks and clouds part slowly as the rising sun fills the sky with light from the heavens. Most days, I feel good. Most days, I feel like the parting clouds disappear at just the right time, the rays of sunlight are just the right brightness and temperature to keep me moving fluidly throughout my day. But not today.

Today the dark clouds loiter and take me over. Today the dark clouds soak me into their gloomy existence. Today the dark clouds become me.

I don’t fight the clouds, I let the wispy molecules surround me and hold me to the ground. The wind pushes us around, the sky holds us down, the sun is nowhere in sight.

Today the clouds rule the earth, and I doubt the sun is anywhere behind them. Until she peeks out briefly, as if to taunt me.

I lay in bed and close my eyes again, unwilling to brave the darkness beyond my closed eyelids. Tomorrow’s sun will just have to do.

Sunday, December 27, 2009

Keep On Keepin On

I've been doing a bit of reflecting of late, and realize just how much growth there's been for me this past year. Not just for me, but for the book. This year the book went from concept to paper to being read to being edited. It's not that there's nothing left to do; there's plenty left to do. But the growth I've had this year gives me a sense of urgency for getting the book finished and published and out there into the world.

I keep having this dream (even when they suck, I hate to call them nightmares) that I get the book published and no one buys it. Or that two people buy it and they both tell me it's crap. Or that five people buy it and they form a group to come TP my house because they expected more out of me. I hide inside while I see rolls of toilet paper flying hither and thither, and people from the neighborhood join in on the egg throwing and the toilet paper tossing while my dog looks at me in contempt and refuses to protect me. Dreams are stupid. At least the ones I refuse to call nightmares are.

I know this is just fear of working for years on a project that doesn't relate to anyone. And I know this fear is unfounded. Everyone I've handed the book to has been touched. The greatest compliment I got from handing the book out to my cast of feedbackers was that most of them cried. It's not that I was trying to make anyone cry; I just told my story. And while my story is written around the cancer that took my father from me, the basis was the relationship between my father and I. I guess the story's not for everyone, but I've realized that I'm not really writing it for anyone else; I'm writing it for me.

Without this book and the last three years of writing it, I might not have ever learned a thing from my father's death but that he's not coming back. By reflecting, by writing, I've been able to connect with me. Who I was then, who I am now, and who I'm on my way to becoming. I've learned more about myself in this past year or four than I have in the my thirty years prior. I've been able to connect with myself in a way I never knew existed, let alone thought was possible. I guess that connection is what people relate to, not the details of my story.

We're all human. We all feel. We all have relationships, whether they work for us or not. Those relationships all need tending to. And at some point all of those relationships will cease to exist, whether we like to admit it or not. By change, by circumstance, by accident, by death. I want to create as much learning, as much healing as I can in the relationships that haven't yet ceased to exist.

I guess I'm still trying to figure it all out.

In the meantime, I'll just keep writing.

What about you?

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Inspired

always too long since the last post. the thing about blah blah blah is blah blah blah. it's all the same thing. i've got to get back to being connected to writing. i've got to get reconnected. and i've got to realize that the connection is never lost. this is not like a magnetic field that gets interrupted, this connection i have to my source is all powerful, all abundant, and so is my ability for keeping things invisible. like my good state of mind. it's always good but sometimes i think it's not because i hide it from myself. where does it go, my good state of mind? it goes in the closet, out the door, left behind with the shoes i wore last week on a run, or maybe in the grass where jackson peed while we were on our run. he looks so free when he takes off running without me. i let the leash down and tell him, go 'head good boy, and he runs and runs and runs as if he'll never come back and then he reaches that point, that same point every time, only sometimes it's 5 yards, sometimes it's 50 yards away, where he stops and turns around, looks over his shoulder to make sure i'm still running behind him, still trying to catch up with him, and then takes off for another sprint way. and all the while i see myself in him, longing to have that run to be free and let myself loose with each moment of each day. only i feel like i can't be that free, i can't be that loose because there are bills to pay and mouths to feed, bills to feed and mouths to pay. oh jewel, where are the days when you wrote a good song again? but songs won't reconnect me to writing. or maybe they will. maybe that's what i'm missing is to turn on some music and get myself inspired, like the blog told me to. i read a blog this morning that told me to read newspapers and magazines and blogs to get inspired, and to listen to music and the radio to get inspired. hogwash. inspiration comes from beauty and i don't feel beautiful right now. i feel horrid. and cold. and disengaged. and there is no inspiration from where i'm sitting, but i can't seem to choose to get up. the cold keeps me here, staring out a window that surely holds beauty on the other side of it, but I can't for the life of me figure out where. and so i sit here, waiting for inspiration to find me, inspire me, take hold of me and toss me around like a rag doll until i am shaken and stirred, like a dirty neat martini on a friday night.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Lather, Rinse, Repeat (Or: Holy Crap)

I just finished the book. My emotions are all over the place. I cried this morning because Erin walked past me as she got ready for work. Which is what she does every morning, but this morning I wanted her to stop. To stop and look at me. Notice that tears were welling in my eyes. Notice that my emotions were too raw for her to get ready for work. I walked around the house. I fed the cats. I sat on the bed. And when she walked in to get dressed, I could barely get the words out, "I'm feeling a little emotional today." I cried in her arms and didn't know exactly why I was crying. Guess I didn't need to know.

This morning I printed a copy of the book and handed it to a friend to give me some feedback. I'm headed to Kinkos as soon as I'm finished with this blog and printing off six more copies. One for Texas, One for Orange County, two for Long Beach, one for Studio City, and one for Venice Beach. Some are giving me technical feedback of, "take this out, put that there, add more here," and some are giving me real life feedback of, "this really spoke to me, wish there was more on that."

My emotions seem to be bred from fear. Fear that it's all crap. Fear that I just spent three years putting my soul on paper and it's not going to amount to anything. Fear that I'll get ripped to shreds in the feedback that I've gone and asked for. I realize the fears are unfounded, even irrational. The important thing is that I'm processing through it. Feeling the fear, addressing the fear, and moving forward anyway. It's the only way to let the fear go. It will come up again, I'm sure of it. No life is sans fear. And when it does, lather, rinse, repeat.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Not What It Always Seems

I like to think of myself as an organized woman. Somehow this gives me the warm fuzzy that my mom would be proud. Which is really to say that my mom's psychosis of needing me to do what she said so she could feel loved and respected worked. I'm learning to let go of that, which makes me happy. I do so love things being clean and neat and tidy, but there are some things that just need the space to look and feel and be lived in. One of those spaces is the dresser in our bedroom.


There's the candles on the edge that give a cozy feel to it, knowing that at any moment we can light the candle and thus give life to the bedroom by creating the fire. There's the the self sufficient succulent which needs watering only every 3-4 weeks, but still needs watering or else it will die. The framed picture of love and smiles in the snow: even when it's cold outside there's warmth in the heart and seeing that always reminds me of just that. The cases for our glasses, which is just a part of life that we've accepted: sometimes we need help to see things clearly, and there's nothing wrong with a little help. My favorite pair of sunglasses which belong put away (as well as the other pair right behind them), but there they are, out on the dresser where they don't belong and which won't give me anxiety for at least another hour. The money on the dresser that may or may not be salvageable after Jackson decided $20 bills were his chew toys of choice. The money we budgeted for and did not spend and therefore set aside to spend in Vegas as a reward. Fat Bob, who's housed said budgeted and unspent funds until he no longer could fit anymore. A necklace which doesn't belong there but will sit there until it gets moved to its rightful place, be it around a neck or in a drawer, and until then will not give me anxiety because I refuse to let it. Three tubes of Chapstick because apparently moisturized lips are very important to me. And my very first business card proclaiming my status as a writer and where one can find samples of various parts of me and my writing. 

I look at my dresser and I no longer see clutter, but I see a life that is lived and a room that is lived in. These things will all find their rightful homes in good time. They will keep there until we need or want those items again, and then the cycle will repeat itself. Sometimes things get put away, and sometimes they don't. I worry less about the appearance of being neat and tidy simply for the sake of appearing neat and tidy. And I listen more to the importance of just letting life be what it is. And what it is is sometimes messy, sometimes clean and sometimes in between. But it's always lived, whether for outward appearance or inward reflection, only we can decide. 

Thursday, April 30, 2009

Struggle Is Me

The past couple of days I've struggled to find myself. I've struggled to find who I am in my writing, in my self, in my coaching, in my world. It just happens that way sometimes. I wake up in the morning and I don't know who I am or how I got here. I live in this beautiful home near the beach with a beautiful girl and amazing animals that give me unconditional love and food in the fridge and dishes on the shelf and money in the bank. And I wonder how I got here? I'm sure I didn't just land here. I'm sure I drove myself here. I'm sure I walked myself here, crawled myself here, cried myself here, died myself here. This is all me and I'm okay with that. I'm not here to understand the how, I guess, just the me. This isn't someone else's life happening to me, no matter how much it feels like that sometimes. This is my life and I accept that. I like that. I love that. I am grateful for that and for all that's in it. So if I'm struggling to find myself, just look in the mirror. Like me or not, I'm right there. 

Friday, March 27, 2009

Fear In The Sky

I'm trying to honor the fear. The fear of everything. The fear of nothing. And where do I go from here? What am I moving towards? I get in a space where I'm comfortable and all I want to do is just sit here and be comfortable. How do I get out of this space? How do I get ready for the next move? How do I put one foot in front of the other and just move? Move forward. Move backward. Sidestep this. Work around that. Can't I just move forward? It all feels like a step back sometimes. It all feels like it just can't be good all the time. I don't understand being happy all the time. There has to be some despair. There has to be some texture to this life. A blissful life is glossy and clean but it slips away from me like I never had it to begin with. I feel greasy and grimy like I’ve never been clean. Somewhere in this is my brilliance, but the needle. The haystack. The bull, the ox trying to find nothing in everything and everything in nothing. I feel so whole and lifeless. And then it passes. The light shines, a spark catches. The cold, dark fire turns red hot and burning. The desire to move again is here. The desire is here. Must. Take. Action. I see the mud ahead and somehow I know exactly how to move through it. Move through it. Through it. Through. It. I don't move around it or over it. I move through it. This must be what life is about. There must be something to this life and moving through it not around it or over it. Trying to figure it out doesn't seem to work. I just need to move, keep moving, keep on moving, moving, moving on up to the deluxe apartment in the sky.