Your Cart is Empty
There was an error with PayPalClick here to try again
Thank you for your business!You should be receiving an order confirmation from Paypal shortly.Exit Shopping Cart
Close to my heart
|Posted on November 4, 2013 at 1:34 AM||comments ()|
A woman lay in a meadow gazing up into the evening heavens whispering wishes into the darkness. Tentatively she asked "Star, come and feel the moist soft grass with me?"
The star answered. "I am..."
The woman said "Star, come and feel cool gentle breeze with me?"
The star answered "I am..."
The woman said "Star, come and listen to the crickets and owls and sounds of night?"
The star answered "I am..."
The woman frustrate said, "But you're not! You are millions upon millions of miles away and I am alone and lonely, come and share the night with me."
The star only responded "I am..."
Angry the woman grab a rock and threw it towards the night sky. She paused then heard a soft thud as the stone landed in the darkness echoing her sense of isolation.
Feeling denied her wishes, the grass felt wet, the breeze was now cold and the sounds of the night were jarring and harsh.
She felt miserable and abandoned. The night had been beautiful within the hope of sharing it.
It was in the thought of loss and separation that it change.
One last time she pleaded to the star "Please join me?"
The star then answered "I am... I am a part of you, in every essence you are made from me, before your imagined beginning to beyond your imagined end I am with you... I am in the grass and the breeze and in the heart of the sounds of the night...
and you are in me.
You were never alone, it's only your thoughts that have made it so.
The woman felt her skin tingle. She began to be aware she was vibrating, a high singing vibration that made her feel weightless, almost transparent. As the resonation grew it was if the whole universe was collapsing into a single singing bubble around her.
Everything was vibrating through her, in her, like cords in a vast symphony.... the grass, the breeze, every flutter, every movement. Deserts and oceans, mountains and streams, the stars, the moon, galaxy upon galaxy... All within her reach. She saw herself in it all and all of it inside her.
She slowly rose as if in a dream, her eyes wet with tears. Her heart was so full that it overflowed into every essence of her being. She felt every atom dancing... there was no beginning and no end. Like starlight, she was beaming a soft gentle glow. She did not speak but only raised her face to the heavens and breathed in the night air. She was bathed in starlight and it danced within the reflection in her eyes. If you looked closely, there you would find universe upon universe inside her.
|Posted on June 21, 2013 at 6:59 AM||comments ()|
You are the bravest person you know.
I know you don't believe me...
Whether you are soaring over mountains or buried in a hole.
You are the bravest person you know.
No one can completely understand what it's taken for you to get to this moment in life,
but your courage is just that, yours...
You are heroic.
|Posted on June 21, 2013 at 6:55 AM||comments ()|
I love authentic people.
I love people who do not craft their words to their best advantage
but let their words spill from their lips and their heart.
Full of ums, ahs and searching eyes or racing and fumbling with the urgency of a story to share.
When they speak I can see right into their eyes and down to their soul and I know them.
These people are gorgeous and fallable and perfectly human
and I can't help falling in love with their hearts everytime.
|Posted on June 21, 2013 at 6:51 AM||comments ()|
If we surround ourselves with people who think just like us, atrophy sets in.
We close tighter and tighter around shared beliefs
and people outside those beliefs become a threat.
We cement stories of right and wrong,
good and bad until those stories become our reality.
We are left unchallenged
from the infinite combinations of beliefs and ideas held by our diverse world.
|Posted on June 6, 2013 at 11:22 PM||comments ()|
Plunking me on top of the fridge as a child…
he showed me a change of perspective is profound
and a little risk is good.
Racing around on all fours through the house,
his growls drowned out by his little girl’s giggles,
he taught me that having fun
is more important than looking good.
Answering my questions with part of the answer,
then asking me a question back,
he made me think critically,
take ownership of my learning
and experience the success of my own discovery.
Dad always wanted to make it better.
He would visit my home and the first order of business was “What needs fixin’”.
From the best way to roll a garden hose, to what to use on a squeaky door,
he didn’t just want it fixed.
He wanted you to learn how...
just in case…
he wasn’t around…
he’d know you’d be okay.
He needed to share his loves.
Heck, he just needed to share anything and everything that was exciting to him.
And new things popped up every day.
He would “suggest” you read an article in Aviation Weekly.
If you did not read it then and there,
you would elicit a glimmer of dejection and a hint of a pout.
He shared his smoked rib recipe…
along with a new smoker
the correct wood chips
so you could make them right away.
A particularly good Hagar the Horrible comic strip would be passed over to you with a boyish smile
and a chuckle
as he watched in sincere anticipation of your laughter.
Over the years he fed the fish in the lake for a week in advance of a visit
then contently relished the squeals of delight as his grandchildren caught fish after fish.
He loved to share his joy.
He just loved to love.
It shone out of him like a warm reassuring sunbeam.
That's why his mother called him Sunny. Because he was a ray of sunshine.
There is no question that he lives on through me.
His lessons, his loves,
are now my lessons, my loves.
Laughing with my children until we cry,
singing off key at the top of our lungs, making silly faces…
All are Poppy living through us.
I believe he is still here with me now,
and he has a knowing…
a glimpse of something that eluded him in life…
I am safe,
I am protected,
and I carry him with me always.
|Posted on April 15, 2013 at 6:56 PM||comments ()|
The ties that bind are broken.
They whisper in the wind.
Let go My cherished little one.
There are bigger things to tend.
You may feel like you're falling.
But I hold you in My arms.
I've set a place before Me.
To you will come no harm.
So fall as though your flying.
Lift your face up to the sun.
I will guide you gently.
For you My Will be done.
|Posted on April 3, 2013 at 8:37 PM||comments ()|
One day in my early 20's I was visiting with my mother and as scheduled I pulled up the "blame train" and started to unload onto her all the reason I felt she had failed me in my childhood. It was thick with anger and resentment. The usual ritual was that she would apologize and I would be indignant.
But this day was different and her words would free me and humble me to my core.
She took an exasperated breath,
and then spoke to me gently.
"Love, if I could go back and do it all differently I would...
but all I can tell you is this
I did the best I could,
with what I knew,
at the time."
And it was true
I could see it all.
She was beautiful and perfectly human and she had loved me with everything she had...
|Posted on April 3, 2013 at 8:27 PM||comments ()|
Sometimes people's stories about you are so big that there is no room left for you in them.
It's like standing in front of a huge movie screen waving your arms and all they see is a small distortion in their projection.
When you let go of trying to be seen,
to correct their mistaken view of who you are,
it makes room for you to just be...
|Posted on March 26, 2013 at 8:19 PM||comments ()|
I love the fallibility of our humanness.
Insecurity is a precious sign of vulnerability.
But I have no patience for head games.
They exhaust me.
I have no interest in being pulled into them.
I will not return a serve or counter a volley.
You will find the other side of the net empty except a racquet that was never picked up.
I will love you enough not to play.
|Posted on February 25, 2013 at 8:55 PM||comments ()|
My parents told me I could be anything,
So I never picked a box, you know the box, "if I do this job, I wear these clothes, have these friends, drive this car, live in this house, in this part of town, say these things ..."
I think lots of people are being "not a box", it's made us an amalgamation or like a disco ball,
depending on where you stand you might think I am
rebellious or conforming...
But I'm not any.
The best you can find is a reflection of your own beliefs, values and assumption.
So enjoy the reflection, check your profile, fix your hair and ask yourself if who you're looking at is you, or a story box version of you.