Where are you oh heart of mine?

Rescue me

I want out

           I hate this darkness

Follow my voice

I'll guide you

           Where do you want to go?

Anywhere

I'm scared

            Not there           

Just start walking

           No 

You can find safety

           No

Move towards the light

           No

         

I'm here

           Why won't you help me?

I feel your pain

           I can't

You are not alone

           You can't make me

Remain

Resist

If you always do what you've always done...

Curled up and crumpled on the floor
Emptiness marks the absence of light in your eyes
Take me back to safety you whimper

But there is no going back
You will find only a false sense of security there
Go forward
Find sanctuary somewhere new

A grand gesture
A drastic choice
To save yourself

Be brave
Freedom awaits

I can't move the mountains for you

There is a door that's been open
But you run into the wall instead

You are almost at the top of the staircase
But you stumble and let yourself fall

I'm holding out my hand
But you're holding too tight to what will destroy you

I watch you broken hearted
But you turn your back

I want to hold on tighter
But know I can only let go


let go
let go

breathe

let go

tiny beautiful things

Words of wisdom from Cheryl Strayed in her book Tiny Beautiful Things. Just read it.

"She'd have to find a way within herself to not only escape the shit, but to transcend it, and if she wasn't able to do that, then her whole life would be shit, forever and ever and ever. I told her that escaping the shit would be hard, but that if she wanted to not make her mother's life her destiny, she had to be the one to make it happen. She had to do more than hold on. She had to reach. She had to want it more than she'd ever wanted anything. She had to grab like a drowning girl for every good thing that came her way and she had to swim like fuck away from every bad thing. She had to count the years and let them roll by, to grow up and then run as far as she could in the direction of her best and happiest dreams across the bridge that was built by her own desire to heal."

"Each and every one of those people rose at a moment in their lives... and at that moment they chose to tell the truth about themselves instead of staying "safe" inside the lie. They realized that, in fact, the lie wasn't safe. That it threatened their existence more profoundly than the truth did."

"This is not your responsibility, but it is your problem."

"The story of human intimacy is one of constantly allowing ourselves to see those we love most deeply in a new, more fractured light."

"There aren't three options. There is only one. As Rilke says, 'You must change your life.'"

"Some things are so sad and wrong and unanswerable that the question must simply stand alone like a spear in the mud."

"But compassion isn't about solutions. It's about giving all the love that you've got."

"Just close your eyes and remember everything you already know. Let whatever mysterious starlight that guided you this far guide you onward into whatever crazy beauty awaits."

"You don't have to get a job that makes others feel comfortable about what they perceive as your success."

"You have to pay your own electric bill. You have to be kind. You have to give it all you got. You have to find people who love you truly and love them back with the same truth. But that's all."

"You will learn a lot about yourself if you stretch in the direction of goodness, of bigness, of kindness, or forgiveness, of emotional bravery. Be a warrior for love."

"My grief is tremendous but my love is bigger. So is yours... You're grieving it because you loved him truly. The beauty in that is greater than the bitterness of his death."

"We are here to build the house. It is our work, our job, the most important gig of all: to make a place that belongs to us, a structure composed of our own moral code. Not the code that only echoes imposed cultural values, but the one that tells us on a visceral level what to do. You know what is right for you and what is wrong for you."

"You're covering your wounds with a classic it's-okay-if-I'm-fucked-up-because-everyone-is-fucked-up canard. It's a lie you've told yourself that has flattened down whatever hurts. But what hurts remains... And until you heal it you are going to have to open and patch and cover and deny that wound over and over again... Its an invitation to do the real work. The kind that doesn't pay a dime, but leaves with a sturdy shelter by the end."

"Understand that what you resolve will need to be resolved again. And again."

"I never believed the boys were angry. I believed they were hurt and anger was the safest manifestation of their sorrow."

"I had that feeling you get - there is no word for this feeling - when you are simultaneously happy and sad and angry and grateful and accepting and appalled and every other possible emotion, all smashed together and amplified. Why is there no word for this feeling? Perhaps because the word is "healing" and we don't want to believe that. We want to believe healing is purer and more perfect, like a baby on its birthday."

Frustration

I hate feeling frustrated with people.
It feels like knots in my stomach, tightness in my throat, agitation in my limbs.
These body feelings are followed by swirls of self doubt:
          Do I have any right to be frustrated?
          Is the problem really theirs? or am I in the wrong?
          Do they care enough about me to want to hear my feelings?
          Will talking about how I feel result in a bigger conflict? a broken relationship?
I'm uncomfortable with the way things are now
and I'm uncomfortable with the potential consequences of making it different.
I'm stuck.

breathing through it

breathe in through the nose --3 beats--
hold --3 beats--
breathe out through the mouth --3 beats--
hold --3 beats--

repeat repeat repeat

until the heart unclenches

Accept the things I cannot change...

I feel desperate for him

I can see his potential
for a bright future
a meaningful life

I can see the road being taken
dark and broken
an unfortunate end

I want to save him

He is not mine to save

Nature & Nurture & the Trajectory of Life

I spent Saturday afternoon reading at a bakery in uptown
A young man arrived for work, his dad and little siblings trailing behind him
"Tomorrow is his birthday" they told his boss "18 years old"

18 years old, holding down a job at an upscale bakery, holding polite and intelligent conversation with the customers, brought to work by his dad, loved by his siblings. So different from the 18 year olds I see - abused, forgotten, struggling. They might work just as hard, be just as smart, but they were born into the wrong circumstances.

There but for the grace of God go I.

Building a Mystery

I've been pondering the mystery and complexity of humanity.
Our soul is inherently a contradiction... both heartbreakingly fragile and fiercely strong.
Each of our actions and words has a meaning that is true only to us based on our individual life experiences - the people we've met, the places we've been, the things we've witnessed.  As I attempt to bear witness to people's lives always asking "what does this tell me?" in the face of what they reveal I realize that the answer to that question is a complex puzzle.  I stand in awe of how experiences that happen outside of us create chemical reactions and electric impulses that fire around around our body resulting in a beautiful mess of thoughts and emotions.
We are a mystery.
God made us in His image.
Nothing is more mysterious than God.

Unfair

Who raises these men?
These men who dare to take what isn't theirs
                  who audaciously enter where they have not been invited
                  who tear at clothes and hearts
                  who ignore noes and shatter safety
These predators
These pedophiles

Did no one teach them the sacredness of the body, how precious the heart?

How do we teach girls to be strong and courageous
if to keep them safe we have to instill some fear?

The Post-Student World

We've all had a season of our lives when our identity focused around the role of student. We all live out this role for at least 14 years, I've lived it for 21 years (so far). When it came time to leave school and join the "real world" I was so tired of student life that I could not wait for a job with regular hours and a regular pay cheque. There was a period of adjustment but eventually I got into the groove of being a working girl. However, almost two years out, I'm realizing that there are some patterns of my old student identity that I have not found new patterns to replace.

While in the student world there is a magical measurement of time called a semester. No matter what is going on - how difficult the class is, how much you dislike your teacher - it will end after four months. Every four months you get all new people, new topics of study, a new schedule, basically a new life! Two years later, I still get itchy for a life makeover every four months. However, since I am in a steady job and apartment and friendships its a little hard to get the semester effect. It leaves me feeling a little bit trapped.

As a student I always new what I was working towards, whether it be a grade on an assignment, passing a class, or a diploma. What I was working towards was measurable and I was handed back my work with percentages on it telling me how I did. I always knew specifically where I stood and where I was going. In my job I have the goals of always learning more and doing the best job that I can, but these goals aren't particularly measurable and they are ongoing so will never really be achieved. It leaves me feeling lost and wandering.

So how does one adjust to post-student life? What goals do I set for myself? And how do I motivate myself to achieve them if there is no consequence to simply putting them off until tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow?

Imagine

Imagine not being frightened by any feeling. Imagine knowing that nothing will destroy you. That you are beyond any feeling, any state. Bigger than. Vaster than. That there is no reason to use drugs [or any form of escape] because anything a drug could do would pale in comparison to knowing who you are. To what you can understand, live, be, just by being with what presents itself to you in the form of the feelings you have.              -Geneen Roth