heart

Is it pride, experience, reason or heart? Who do you listen to most often? Is it serving you? Hmmmmmmm, too may hard questions for a Saturday? (Wink)

Food for thought.
Big Love,
Xox

Half of me was wondering: Am I awake? But the other half KNEW it was a dream.

It was vivid and lucid. I could smell the dankness that hung in the air.
I could feel the powered sugar softness of the dirt under my bare feet.
I had entered a cave of some kind.

My hands ran along the cool, damp, uneven walls as I slowly made my way, back, back, back inside, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness.

There he stood, at the end of this narrow, winding,descent; a very tall figure in a black hooded robe.

I stopped. And stared. ‘I hope this is a dream, or I’m screwed.’

He put out his hands in a friendly way, beckoning me forward.
I walked toward him slowly.
“Show me your face” I said.
“In time” I heard back.

He started talking to me, telling me this and that about my life at the time. I just stood there, listening intently.

I was 26 years old, freshly divorced and in a new, rambunctious, highly sexualized relationship with a twenty year old boy/man who had saved me from having to think seriously about my future; and then after a summer of love, had left for college.
Deep down I knew what that meant, I was almost twenty seven after all, but I wore denial like an ivory cashmere shawl. It was cozy, and it made me happy.

“This relationship you’re in, is going to end.” he said after lulling me into complacency.
“Nooooooooo” I whined, not wanting to face the truth.
“That is not the direction your life must go. He is not your destiny.”
My heart literally hurt in my chest. “But we’re so happy.”
I swear he said, “Not for long.”

Asshole.

I put my head in my hands and started to cry.
There was so much misplaced sadness there inside me, so many tears I hadn’t given myself the time to cry. I had run away from a seven year marriage without missing a step. I hadn’t looked back, I’d only felt a combination of freedom and elation. I had never shed one tear.
Yet, having to leave the arms of this young lover, who felt so misguidedly right, hurt like hell, and I sobbed like a blubbering, sex crazed idiot.
Tall hooded guy stepped forward and enveloped me in a full body embrace. I barely came up to his neck.

When he did that, it unleashed a torrent of sights and sounds that my brain was having a hard time keeping up with.
I suddenly had ALL KNOWLEDGE. 
Past, present, future.
My life. ALL life.
Earth, our galaxy, the Universe and beyond.
I knew the answer to every question that had ever been asked…and some that hadn’t been asked…yet.
It was all so simple. ‘Why did we make things so difficult?’ I remember thinking in a blurrrrrrr.
I knew the cure for cancer, the end of hunger and I saw lasting peace.
War seemed barbaric, as a matter of fact, so did humanity.
The twentieth century felt like the movie Braveheart, inside those arms.

He was right, I had strayed off destiny’s path. This dalliance had to end, and I had to start going inside to look for love.

It was over in a second. He dropped his arms and the rush subsided.
I came back to my present. To the cave, with this man.
I had no words.
He turned and started to walk away, his work here was done.

He’d broken my heart and then sent me on an amazing journey to explain why he’d come.
“Turn around, show me your face!” I yelled. I was smad (combination of sad and mad)
He was far away, I could barely hear him now, “In time” he said, never turning around.

I woke up to a bright, hot summer morning in my shitty apartment, feeling such gratitude. The phone next to me was ringing.
“Thank God, that was just a dream.” I chanted over and over in my head, still processing my “know everything” moment, as I rolled over to pick up the receiver.
“Hey” my beloved’s sleepy voice said on the other end, “we have to talk.”

My heart sank as tears immediately filled my eyes. They’d been waiting there for a long time.

I knew what was coming next. No more fucking around. 
Somtimetimes, before a big life shakeup, the Universe gives you a head’s up, This was mine.
It was time to start living my destiny.

Xox

This savage heart is wild and un bridled,
wanting things that can’t be named.

This savage heart behaves like a child,
running barefoot and untamed.

This savage heart won’t choose the road,
that the other hearts have tread.

This savage heart won’t make it easy,
it won’t let itself be lead.

This savage heart is filled with passion,
that drives it forward hard and fast.

This savage heart will daily command me,
inside this life which I’ve been cast.

This savage heart will go on beating,
until all desire is a thing of the past.

This is a reprise of a popular post from earlier this year. It’s a cautionary tale in the form of a poem, about that rascal Ego. Have a great Sunday!

XoxJanet

When Ego whispers in your ear,
“Psssst buddy, come on over here.”
Quick; turn and run the other way,
’cause he’s got nothing good to say.

He’s not a chum, he’s not your friend,
His words won’t have a happy end.
He’s only got himself in mind,
A more selfish dude you’ll never find.

What ego thinks is a good idea,
Will fill you later with dread and fear.
You don’t want hear what he has to say,
Just tell him nice, to go away

The Ego has a strangle hold,
on those who do what they are told.
He has sold his bill of goods,
by selling “wants” and “needs” and “shoulds”.

It just won’t play, it won’t suffice,
when heeding Ego’s bad advise.
To say you’re “feeling” anything,
To this bad guy, the head is king.

His dictums are complex and sly,
You must beware if you comply,
he’ll lead you down the garden path,
then laugh as you suffer bad choice’s wrath.

He has an agenda all his own,
his methods are proven, his skills well honed.
You needn’t curse, don’t waste a good cry,
he’s doesn’t care, he’s not that guy.

You can try to beat him at his game,
Living with soul can end his reign.
It won’t seem fair,
He isn’t nice, plus….

The Ego gives really shitty advise.

What sound does your heart make when you enter a room?
Is it pinched tight like a bud, or ready to bloom?

Is it a singular sound, high pitched and shrill,
that transmits stress against your will?

Is it a layered tapestry of sound,
where an abundance of different notes abound?

Is it buried too deep and low to hear?
Beneath the surface of a hard veneer?

We enter a room to find a match,
A heart to which we may attach.

So pay close attention to your heart’s broadcast,
If the notes feel old, you’ll repeat the past.

The song of your heart will synchronize,
To the beat of another’s,
Don’t compromise.

Pay attention, be diligent, delightful and wise,
Listen to the hearts of others,
You will be surprised.

People watching is a wonderful pastime.
Isn’t it amazing the variety that exists in the human race?
Tall, short,
male, female,
Heavy, slim,
blonde hair, red hair, dark hair…no hair!

There are some people that look at others and see animals.
“he looks like a weasel”
“She has the hands of a sloth”
These are not compliments.
They are imaginative, 
but they are generally hurtful.

What kind of filter do you see others thru?

Do you, in your head, think
“She’s too skinny,”
” He needs a shave”
“They look ridiculous”
“He’d be cute if he lost 25lbs”
“She looks old”

Do you want to know something that will change you?
EVERYONE is doing the best they can!
and EVERYONE has their story.

“She” is skinny because her boyfriend is always mentioning her weight,
she would love to eat normally, but he’d leave her.

“He” forgot to shave because he had to rush out of the house to 
pick up a sick child at school

“They” look ridiculous to you because they are marching to their own drum, 
not yours!

“He” has struggled with his weight all his life, but his wife adores him
as he is, he is cute to her already!

“She” has lead the life of helping others, she has never taken an interest
in her own reflection, she is held in high regard and loved by many
and THAT is what matters to her.

Become aware of how you look at others.
You would hope others look at you with kinder eyes.
Remember these words and make adjustments to your thoughts,
when you gaze at the beautiful personified story of another,
and all you see are the flaws.