The Circle

Come closer. I'll show you what I'm made of.

While you laugh behind my back and discard me like a piece of trash, I get stronger. I remember how they hated Jesus, first, for no good reason. It unnerves little people when you don't need them, when you don't worship them. I bet you want me to care, to care that you don't include me in your orbit. I want to say to you, oh nasty one, you can't handle my light. You're too dense, grotesque, and small. 

Not me.

What do I need any of you for when I've got Mary in my circle? Sometimes, she gives me that look when I step out of the circle to retrieve my sword. She quietly tells me to let it go. I insist I just need a bit more time.

So I grab hold of my sword that looks abandoned laying by an oak tree. Do you know how good it feels in my hands to be holding this sword, despite its heaviness? It's as though it was crafted just for me, for someone like me, for someone built like me. 

I drag it in my usual way across the lush green grass on top of a hill I still can't understand how I got here. I overlook the landscape. What I see out there is what resides within. Peaks and valleys. I'm more than okay with all of it. It's never boring. There's so much to observe, to experience, to feel, in this place. 

Do you think I need someone like you here? It's clear you don't need someone like me over there with the rest of you. Good. It's good. I'm good. You're good. But, not that good. 

You're such a stupid child, you and your boorish face. What did your husband ever see in you? You treat him like a dog and he stays silent and obedient. I often wonder when he's going to lose it on you. But maybe he enjoys being pushed around that way. 

I dream up all the ways I won't have to lift a finger for karma to do its job. I just have to keep being me, to keep being kind, to keep minding my own business, to keep creating and let others be whoever they are or want to be. I can step aside, a bit to the left or a bit to the right and get out of whatever shit's coming my way. You can't touch me. You can't hurt me with your words. Eventually, they'll all come back to haunt you, like they will for each of us. And I'll be smiling in my usual sweet way...because...I'm back in the circle...with Mary. 

Thank goodness for Her. She's going to replenish my Well so I never go without.

So Mote It Be. 

Empty Vessels

I'm the common denominator in this case...but, I'm also the good guy....through and through. I think of Jesus. Or any other person who was shoved in a corner because the world didn't understand them. Today, it's not about being misunderstood. People are too shallow for such a noble attempt. They're simply jealous and threatened and ultimately, they lack feeling, lack heart. 

They know what's right. They know what hurts. They know how to inflict pain. They know they're doing it. They know how it feels. But, their lower parts are much more powerful than they are. And these guys think they're making a point? Just more proof that slaves are running the show. Fools!

I'm going to shift perspective here. There's nothing wrong with me. I'm too deep for these folks, whose blood courses through my veins, too. They can't hold a flame to my name. They may not encourage bad behaviour but they do so by association. We are the company we keep and I have no time for small-minded, petty, unkind people who only care for their own, who only give to those who sing and dance to their tune out of some kind of misplaced obligation. I do not and will not accept any of these people into my orbit just because life is short. Yes, life is too short and that's an excellent reason why not to waste my time with them!

No hard feelings. They don't want any part of me and I don't want any part of them, either. Do you understand what this means? Not a single part of these people resonates with any part of me. Because they've mistaken the illusion for the real! They can't handle the essence that is me. They fill their mouths with gossip and cruelty but, they betray themselves each and every single time. Empty vessels. Please don't let me become an empty vessel, too. 

These days, I walk with my head up high. I sort things out in silence, on another plane, high above this one. They can't touch me there. Their influence is inconsequential but mine is not.

Mother

I grab my package of dried rose petals and head for the sancuary because there, I have access to water and the sound it makes when it hits the bottom. 

I light my lavender scented candle. I'm pleased to know I crafted this beauty. I handle it with care, the way all things ought to be handled. 

I love how the flames flicker and the warm light that emanates when I'm not relying on electricity. The ambiance, the atmosphere in this space is heavenly. 

I try to hang on for as long as possible. You can't fathom how hard I try to expand this single moment in time knowing this will pass. This moment will evaporate. It'll go up in smoke, just like a burning flame. 

What wishes will reach heaven? How many on the other hand, will dry up without a chance?

I take off my clothes. I'm excited to be reunited with water, with my emotions, with this cup I need to empty out before it can be filled again. 

I enter the vessel. I let out a sigh when I feel the heat of the water and find a comfortable position. It's true, the sacred can be found in every moment. I seem to find the sacred a little bit easier though, by water and candlelight.

Then, as the water fills up the tub, I take a handful of rose petals and place them on me and around me and let the water move them however it pleases, while I watch and listen.

The pops of pink and red against my skin are so beautiful. I suddenly feel different. I'm taken by surprise. I have power here. Sensuality is rising up from the depths of me. I see in a unique way.

I swear I can hear music. Well, it's the sound of a waterfall, really, against the backdrop of a noisy mind the heart is aching to get quiet. 

It does get quiet, finally. I pick up a few pieces of petals and feel them between my fingers. My body feels alive here. I'm alive here. 

Nothing can touch me here. I can't be defiled by man and his small brain. I can't be influenced by money. I can't be tempted by, what we will all eventually discover to be, illusion.

I let myself be moved by imagination with a capital 'i'. I need to spend more time here in this sacred space. Oh the things I can see, hear and feel when I'm communing with the elements...Oh my.

May Mother hear my prayers.

The Lucky Ones

They'll be talking about me in the future to family members I'll never meet, the way I talk about my siblings now to people who don't care.

They'll say things about me, how I used to do this or that thing but they'll fail to see how they missed the mark or didn't try hard enough to know me.

I speak of my ancestors now, wondering who they were. And, I've got living beings near and far, who are not in my life. Just like I can't blame them for not trying to know me, they can't blame me for not trying to know them either.

It's ironic, how I miss the dead - whom I've never met - but I don't make an effort to be with the living, who are right there.

The past and future unite in this kind of back and forth dialogue. It's hard not to be jaded. It's hard not to see the truth of things. If I had died when I was mugged, I could see my siblings, especially the older one, honouring me in the best possible way...

Everyone would admire how strong we were, how we appreciated one another in life, how he was a good brother and I was a good sister.

Or, he might say how he wished we'd had more time together, how he'd been a better brother, a better man, more attentive. You know how it goes...And life would go on in the usual way.

I'm not impressed. Maybe I'd feel differently if I'd had children. Though I may have had more resolve in my thinking.

It's always about me, me, me...We think we're good people because we take care of our children. Because we tend to our own. "Our own" isn't such a noble endeavour. It's our duty, actually. There's no sacrifice in that. 

It's like listening to a fortunate woman who's always wanted children, complaining how tired she is raising her child. I say fortunate because she doesn't need to work to make ends meet. Her husband supports them all. 

Her full-time job is raising her child. She's super lucky to be able to do that. Period.

Here To Feel

I thought that was it. When you walked away after we hugged. I knew what would come after. I knew a few weeks ago. Despite wanting the day to come, I also knew what that meant...another chapter closing.

I know life's made up of a series of endings. The ultimate end between partners when the curtain drops. Endings in between jobs when we're making plans. Endings between people in casual relationships. That three week vacation. Your wedding day. The birth of a child. And on and on it goes, ironically.

I was so sad and yet, so grateful. This bittersweet taste of longing, I know this too shall pass.

A thought popped into my head after you said the company was paying for lunch...I suddenly had a sinking feeling. I heard, "Oh, this is all it is. What's so special about this? Just something he's going to write off." Literally and metaphorically.

And that was that, as we gathered our things and made our way to the sidewalk on a glorious November day, heading back to the building, my home.

You're such a talker, the way you move without a care in the world. I was mostly quiet, walking by myself, aware you seemed not to want to walk next to me. I get it. I get it. I really do.

You give yourself away at times, like me. You'll mention her. I'll mention him. But, there are pockets, spaces, when mentioning them feels like a secret you want to keep to yourself out of fear you'll hurt the other person's feelings. Why do we do this? Are we being cruel? Protective? Who are we protecting? Them? You? Me? Who?

I know why I do it. It must be why you do it, too. 

Two days later, after two nights of a kind of suffering I can't really describe, I see a message in my inbox. I don't recall having placed an order for anything. 

Had you always had this gift for me? 

I should have called. But, I'm too shy, too self-conscious, too aware, too afraid of what it might feel like before the hang up. You know, that small space between moments when it's time to say good-bye. What if you closed the gap too quickly? What if your tone was one of indifference? That would have killed me.

Better a text then...it's easy, more dreamy, less direct, not so invasive, more gentle. We're both still in our lanes. No place for demands.

I hope you keep your word again though I dare not hold my breath. I know how long it took to keep your word this time - at least, 6 months!

Thank you. For helping me see. For helping me feel. That's why I'm here...to feel. 

His Shoes

It's just a turnover of younger and younger people. Why do I come here? They're stupid and naive. Some can articulate and discuss but their ideas aren't fully formed. So the moment they try to argue, you can see the holes...only because you remember yourself in those moments many years ago.

It's just the nature of things. To think you know everything and then to wake up one morning and know you actually don't know much of anything at all! Knowing and understanding are not the same thing. 

You can know something and not understand how you know it. And then you can understand something and know it to be true. Understanding is key and it requires engagement from ourselves. I think it involves different factors, which includes being in another person's shoes. 

Oh the things you can see when you imagine yourself as someone else. You can hear all the things they don't say. You can see where they fall short, how they beat themselves up, how dark and lonely they can be.

Sometimes, the ego shows up to suggest that if they only do a, b, or c, they'd be better off. The implication is that YOU or I would behave differently because we're smarter or know better. That isn't the definition of compassion though, is it?

Judgment, between you and I, should not take up any space. But, it does. It takes up too much space. It covers nations with clouds of angry fuel. Even the sun fails to penetrate through all of that.

Gosh, if we could only take up space with what is good, can you imagine the ripple effect? 

Traitors

I know I shouldn't wish for such things and my wavering over the years about whether to stay or go, has proven I'm more lost now than ever.

I don't think I've ever despised someone as much as I despise him. The part that really sucks is that I've never liked him. I thought he was a weasel and immature right from the start. But, I stayed with him because I felt he was the lesser of two evils. Overall, I know I made the right decision. Yet, I've paid in other ways with my sense of self-worth taking a dive, forced to battle someone else's issues and controlling, bordering on obsessive, behaviour. 

I know this moment can't be any other way than what it is now. I know it's just more fuel for me to get this show on the road! 

I remember hearing about some old man who got a rolex watch for time well served and thinking to myself, "He got a rolex watch after doing time in prison!" And in my gut of guts, I saw the horror of that reality - how easy it is to be thrown away in an upside down world when no one has anymore use for you. That what most people are striving for is retirement, speaks to the truth of what I'm trying to articulate here. To be retired is to be dead. It's not an accident that these two words are inextricably linked. 

Oh G*d, don't let this be me! I beg this of Thee! Every coach from life coaches to any role under the sun, one can play for money, is selling you what you have to be in order to be successful. The framework is founded on money. It isn't connected to anything higher than oneself. The goal is money. Success equals lots and lots of money. It sickens me. That's why the corporate world and those who make it their god - on so many levels - has joined the rat race. How can people not see this? Because money is their god.

Well, it isn't mine. 

I'm tired of working to build and materialize someone else's vision while I'm made to feel guilty for receiving a 'stable' income or while he gets paid the big bucks no matter whether he deems it a 'good' month versus a 'bad' one. I'm not entertaining his need for greed. That's his problem!

But you know what really sucks about working for someone for as long as I have? Discovering they don't have your back. Discovering you're really not part of a team at all despite their words to the contrary. Nothing but empty words...words that never lead to any real action. I'll never accept how he threw me under the bus, for undermining me in 'private' to a client - never. Clearly, I was meant to see this email he had tried to conceal from me. 

I'll have my say. He'll never use our weekly meetings to vent about his problems ever again. I'll make sure of it. I'm not his sounding board. I'm not his opportunity to be used as a scapegoat for his failings. 

What an insecure fool to give himself away so carelessly.