In His Name

I see you among the birds and the trees.

Or standing by a wall drawing closer to someone who’s taken a handful of pills.

Sometimes, I see you hovering over addicts. You wait for them to look up knowing it could be the last time they look down, for good.

I see you in temples and synagogues.

And, communing with Buddha by the steps of a cathedral.

You’re never with the rich unless they’re rich of heart.

You’re not the man in their posters, the man they dress up to look like them.

You’re the man standing next to the woman deciding whether to abort. She looks up and that pleases you, while she brings her hands close together in humility.

Who is the man they think is on their side?

I tell them in my nightmares, “It’s not Him. That is not Him.”

It’s cold where they stand. 

It’s dark where they congregate. Even when the sun is shining bright.

I wonder often how your light is not able to penetrate the hearts of man.

You’re here with me as I write this.

You’re with my sick husband.

You’re with every trans person who struggles with injustice.

You’re with the beggars, the liars and the cheats. Because there’s a chance. There’s a chance they can turn their lives around.

And with the poorest of the poor, because they haven't forgotten they can always look up to find you right there.

You’re not with the hardened men and women who spew judgement and especially with those who do it in your name. You lay your hands instead over those who are powerless so that they may rise above the brutes of this world.

You tell them to turn the other cheek but to carry a sword in one hand. To be sweet and kind like sheep but to be fierce and bold like wolves. Because these are strange and difficult times and the world is upside down and people more than ever still do not know what they do. 

You tell them to leave forgiveness to you. You understand it’s impossible to forgive evil...in your name.

I see you on a winged horse coming down from stormy clouds.

I hear the words about love and neighbours. I wonder how people decided you meant that we only love the people we ‘like’.

You’re with a childless woman like me and not a pig like that man who spews filth about women like me...in your name.

You’re with a childless woman like me and not a pig like that man who defiles women like me...in your name.

You’re with a childless woman like me, like me, who whispers to pigs like them, “You’ll be sorry someday.”

You were with me when I drew my first picture.

You were with me when I witnessed how cruel children could be.

You were with me when I struggled with being human. You know I still struggle and here you are illuminating my mind because my heart is heavy.

How do you tolerate what people do in your name against those who just want to love and live a life on their own terms without the oppression of evildoers? How?

You remind me, “That’s not I over there, standing in a crowd of hatred and righteousness.” 

You remind me, “I’m here with you when tears roll down your face. I love you for helping me carry this cross for you are one of the peace-keepers of this world.”

He continues, “Not all will have the eyes to see and the ears to hear. And those who do shall feel burdened but let them not fret for I am with them.”

He knows I’m a sinner too and not quite so pure of heart.

He knows I secretly relish in the thought of their comeuppance. I imagine what their fall will look like right after their pride.

I imagine people dragging their bodies into the streets and spitting in their faces.

I imagine people throwing stones after they’re dead. Not while they’re alive. For that would make me a hypocrite. But, surely there are crimes and deeds worse than others?! Like the ones they commit in His name!

But, even I digress.

He insists, “You’re all brothers and sisters who've forgotten why you’re here. It is my eternal mission to remind you.”

.

Blessings In Disguise

It's so easy to offend someone. No. No. People are easily offended. That's exactly right. My fault is this incessant desire to be normal, to please, to play the game. But, you don't have to play games with the people you love and trust. No. No. You don't have to play games with the people who truly love and trust you. 

You're free to be exactly who you are. You don't feel a wall going up. Because this wall subconsciously goes up when you're not entirely comfortable. You can tell yourself you'll try harder, harder to be...comfortable. How stupid is that? Why not trust and observe that this wall going up is what needs to happen for you to realize some folks are not good for you?

I'm rattled when I open the door to certain family members. For years, I do fine. Then they reach out and I'm sucked right back to a time I do not miss or have any kind of nostalgia for. It doesn't matter that twenty years have passed. They are not 'my' people. I experience the same feelings of isolation and rejection as I did before. It dawns on me like a ton of bricks over the head that I do not need them. It's not that I don't belong. It's that they do not belong with me.

"Oh yesterday came suddenly..." I long for yesterday, too, but not in the way you might think. There's nothing I would change except for one thing. If I could go back to my younger self, I'd tell her to keep her head up high. To let people be. Let them talk. And to never ever throw her pearls before swine. 

While I've always gotten along with everyone, it never meant I wanted to walk their path. I'm a lone wolf. It can get lonely but I wouldn't want it any other way. Inviting certain people into your life just because they're blood, is not a good reason to keep them there. Drama follows some people as though their lives depended on it. This drama, inadvertently, becomes my plague. I can't have that. It's poison to my inner sanctity. So, stay away! And lucky for me, it doesn't take much to keep these little rascals at bay, either. I thank my angels for these little blessings in disguise. 

No One To Be

I love moments like these, when you have no where to go and no one to be. I can take off my masks - employee, wife, sister, cousin, friend, consumer - and the everything is okay one, too.

People grasp for moments like these. And, here I am. I recognize them. I am them. They are me. I'm sighing and I know why. If I examine this moment too much, I'll lose the magic of it. Is this what they mean by a perfect moment? Because I'm living it right now.

And just like that, it's gone. I'm still here but not all of me. Parts are at home thinking about this evening...a moment that hasn't arrived, that I haven't walked towards except in my mind, and this moment does not yet exist.

I want to come back here again and feel the whole of myself. In this moment, I encapsulate all things and these things encapsulate me. Do you know the drugs people have to take to have an experience like this?

Through the right approach, I want for nothing. I love this feeling that's rooted from deep within. I love how only I can get there. I love how I can access it anytime I wish to. I love how nothing or no one can destroy it. It's mine. It belongs to me. It's my ticket out of here. Or rather, out of there...

Because here, in this place, in my castle...I don't want to leave or part from it. It's so beautiful. The textures and colours, oh my. And the way the light shines through the curtains? You can't fathom such beauty. 

It wells me up as I sit on a chair no one makes anymore, in a dress I'll never wear even if I was invited to the most glamorous of events. But here, right here, I can feel the material against my skin. I love how I feel in it. The length touches the floor. My hair is black and braided in Targaryen style.

I know what they say about needing people. But, I don't need anyone here. You can't need anything or anyone when you're experiencing a perfect moment...

...unless your perfect moment requires an other?

7 of Swords - 10 of Swords - Magician

He failed to take a chance. He failed to act. Instead, he tippy toed out, like a thief in the night...

There's something so dishonorable about this combination. Why am I always so right about certain things and so wrong about others? I called it from the beginning. Some people are all talk. The way the ego oozes with self-importance and self-flattery turns me off to such an extent, anything that might redeem such person thereafter, is rendered useless.

I operate on a spiritual level. That's where all my work is done. I set things up to see...to see what I might mean to the other. Maybe it's unfair. I don't think so. You can't outwit the gut, instinct or intuition. People show me I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. 

If you live an unexamined life, you have no place in my world. And if you puff up your feathers over some perceived slight, you're a waste of my time, too. The lack of depth from which people live their lives, guised as some kind of meaningful existence when anything and everything they do, is rooted in superficiality, is a blatant and total disregard for all that is real and true in this world and beyond it.

So, go love your children and tell yourself, you're doing your part. Let me give you a hint - loving your children doesn't count. It is your duty! Loving them well? That's a different story...

He thinks he's the only one who's been hard done by. That he's the only one who knows how to be vengeful. That he's some god you should bow down to. He's an idiot like the rest of them.

That's the thing about actions...or a lack thereof...they will always speak louder than words.

Tiny Wounds

You can't feel great about yourself. I've been trying to put my finger on what bothered me so much about our brief interaction. 

I should have just sat there amused and surprised to see you in my neck of the woods as you crossed the street. Why am I always so sincere? Then again, why shouldn't I be someone I am? 

I realized I'm just that woman from the building. Endless chats about this or that with you still puts me in the "stranger" category. Let alone, acquaintance.

You looked nervous. I wondered when you were going to open your arms to give me a hug in your usual way. You never did. I felt a wall go up...though it could have been mine, too.

And you crossed the street, like your life depended on it. I should congratulate you for being such a loyal worker. I mean, why would you make time for me? Well, on the streets of Toronto, anyway? 

I would have made my way back sooner but my pride was stronger than any desire I might have had to speak with you in the safe zone.

I heard your voice but went back outside and around to avoid an encounter. You know I'm a woman of integrity. I chase no one. And desperation is not becoming...

I had a feeling you waited as long as you could. But, to me, you had already been too late. There's no way I was going to show my face.

A birdie told me you mentioned you'd seen me and that I had called out your name. Yeah, I know you waited as long as you could. I know you figured you weren't going to see me again that afternoon. And as far as you know, I thought it was your last day on our premises.

Now I understand what bothered me so much. It was a stench of ego and arrogance. It was ever so subtle but there, nonetheless. It came off as some kind of "dick rule". Who has time for nonsense like that?

Not me.