Song for the weary…..

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There is a place
in each moment,
a soft,  gentle space for breath
to unfold slow
and deep and safe,
where ample rest welcomes and waits
like a tall glass of lay-me-down
and it whispers welcome
to every lift and settle of my heart.

And there is a stream there,
a place for tired feet to go bare against cool,  smooth pebbles
glimmering songs of here and now and love that fills
and of rest that presses it’s weight against the weary of me
like honeysuckle kissing evening air
and it nourishes and calls
and I can answer if I will.

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Cause sometimes I wreck this heart by rushing,
wanting to flop down into the finally of having everything wrapped up done
and it’s crazy how my mind can wedge me into stories that steal away my peace
and set me to running from rest,
flying scared because I get to thinking
that it’s the push and squeeze that saves me.

Some days I forget to remember
to respond to the living rest
that lifts me from this weary way I sometimes keep,
to remember that
rest is a brave place to be.

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“Love turns work into rest.”
-Teresa of Avila

I have missed coming around to visit you!  I’ll be climbing the steps to your porch
in a little while.   Big wide spaciousness to each of you,  friends,
with a whole heap of love.

tripping the light fantastic….

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I want to believe in rest,
the kind that finds me when I’m true,
the sort of peace that soaks through honest
to the real  of me
and it’s scary still
because it can feel like stepping into fog on a ridge
that may give way if I step down the full of me solid.

Rest is so like trust that way.

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But I want to believe in it,
especially when I’m feeling driven to please
and hungry for sanctuary,
my molecules charged with rush,
jarred to attention,
soul strings strung tight
and plunked too hard and fast.

Do you ever get like that?

Codependent.
I’ve re-learned,  healed,  developed, and come a long way,
but sometimes I feel dragged
back into that strange and strangling undertow.

When I begin to remember what I’ve forgotten to love
and care for
(do you sometimes  forget yourself,  too?)
I’m swept back into the real deal,
that healing,  balancing,  life-giving dance,
tripping the light fantastic.

 

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“Healing may not be so much about getting better,
as about letting go of everything that isn’t you
-all of the expectations,  all of the beliefs
-and becoming who you are.”
-Rachel Naomi Remen

The winner of this week’s giveaway
is the beautiful and soulful Liz Adams;
my handmade zine on the way to you on loving wings:)

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getting gritty……

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Can I tell you why I’m here each day this month?

A cluster of white clouds scroll across an uncanny blue sky
as I lay still,  skywatching,   for a brief brush of bliss.
It’s a rare slice of glory,  these lay-me-down moments;
I’ve been working hard this month to rest and heal the tired of me.

For many months I’ve wanted badly to lay some of my work down,
feeling so deep the need to re-set to rest,  body and soul.
But I’m in debt.
The kind that doesn’t feel fair,
and I’m in because of a million reasons
that are both good and clumsy

I finished July tight with ache  needing to grieve it out,
feeling a bit as if I was dangling, white knuckled, over despair.
So tired.
I’ve worked hard to live simple and want even harder to let the writer in me lead,
to earn a living making art that doesn’t need pruning or get yellow jacket nests
or disappear if it gets too dry or too wet.
But this business that  I love and hate with it’s hard work,  and lots of it,
seems a necessary dailyness in my life right now until I can see another,  truer way.
(Thank God for tomorrows).

So August loomed before me threatening…..the heat, humidity, hormones,
my resentment, my fatigue,  my big gaping need
….it felt like it would roll me.
What could I lay down?
One night as I wrestled and tossed and tagged heaven in,
the idea flashed by my mind like a deer darting past my window
“…..just do a little more,  instead”

“Dive down deep and write it out  daily and post to keep accountable.
The goal is rest and I’m a mess…..what if I write more,  not less.
Go exploring to find the truth of how I got here,
lose the blame and actually learn something.
You know,  get some forgiveness done,  some healing,  some help,
figure out how to thrive in even this.
Cause even though I’m feeling chained,  we carry our freedom inside ourselves
and that’s where I’m exhausted,  so go there.”

August has been work harder and more and also
show up to this slow,  awkward,  painful act of liberation
and put it out there for someone else to read
so I can’t hide in self pity and excuses
and you know what?

I feel rest.

Even though I’ve not vacationed and the work remains the same,
I’ve a lighter heart than I’ve ever known
and seeing more clearly what I’d been sleeping through before
And it’s sweet thick grace to not live helpless and exhausted and mad
and to grow from mistakes and maybe share some wisdom in the falling forward.

…..your comments and messages have been light and breath to me.
I’ve loved it,  each time you come around:)

“debt,  n.  An ingenious substitute for the chain and whip of the slavedriver.”  -Ambrose Bierce

“A man in debt is so far a slave.”  –  Ralph Waldo Emerson

Coming home to myself…

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Every day I’ll be sharing here this month,
kind of  coming home to myself,
a season of rest from the overwhelm
that my life has become.
Somehow I got a little lost
in other people’s lives
and gave myself
too little room
on my over- crowded plate.

Have you ever done that?
Forgotten,  for a while,  to live your own life?
I’m taking the month to come untangled,
get loose from the noose,
be  free from the buzz of the be
in my head….

be (overly) productive,
be responsible (for more than your share),
be a fixer,  a saver,  a rescue-maker.
And faster,  please.

No,  I think I’d rather not.

Today I choose instead to be
simply me,
and oh so glad
about it
.

Care to join me?

(I’ll be here every day this month,  tending this space that helps
grow the quiet and glad in me.)

“Overinvolvement of any sort can keep us in a state of chaos.
If we’re focusing our energies on people and problems,
we have little left for the business of living our lives.
And there is just so much worry
and responsibility in the air.
If we take it all on ourselves,  it overworks us
and underworks the people around us.
It doesn’t solve problems.
It doesn’t help other people.  It doesn’t help us.
It is wasted energy.”
-Melody Beattie

hugging the brave of me….

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Would you like to have a sit with me?
Maybe just take in slow the sky,
and let the silence fall around us  soft
while we  keep the quiet together.

No need for words.
No room for rush,
breathing in the fresh sweet hum of grace;
breathing out the stuff of heavy hearts
into the strong and steady hands
of light,
light that loves us like a song.

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Let’s just be still
and surrender to the sound.

Thanks for that.
I’ve been tired,
the kind of tired that comes from doing something scary,
still kinda shaking in my boots
and grinning that I stared it down,
the intimidation that comes
from un-pleasing people.

It’s a good kind of tired,
like when you break up hard ground
till it’s ready to plant.
My plow tip feels a little bent
so I’m resting deep inside
and hugging the brave of me.

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I think we’re both a little braver than we think.

“Another Monday comes and I just wanna breathe
’cause it’s a long, long  week for someone
wired to please.
I keep taking my aim,  pushing it higher.
Wanna shine bright,  even brighter now
Wish I would tell myself

Don’t try so hard……”

-Amy Grant and James Taylor