Living loved or driven…..

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I wrangled out a post yesterday,
pushed it through the sieve of some sleepless hours
and tried to coax some juice to share.
Because it was time and I wanted to find the lovely
and serve it to you here.

Then I dumped it in the trash
because it felt forced,
driving me,  and then I felt them like a song,
the words I scrawled on the console of my old work truck
in red lipstick,
wrote them down bold so that maybe my heart would hear it stronger
in the wounded place where I sometimes go bloody
in the heat of a small day.

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Because sometimes my hungry places want to carve it somewhere big
“I am here”
“I matter”
“Do you see me now?”
As if only something beautiful or important enough
might repair the holes I hide.

Like the lipstick on my console,
I’ve decided to just leave them to the light.
Let the guy at the garage scratch his head and puzzle:)
Lay my unloved places bare
so that Love can find and heal and fill them there.

It’s risky business,  leaving yourself open to love.
But I’d rather live loved than driven.

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The words scrawled in red lipstick across my gimpy parts:

“You don’t need to justify your existence.”

– Don Miguel Ruiz

(big glad honest sigh)

I’ll be sending out a package of handwritten love to Lisa Moreland this week.
Gonna plunk names into a hat again this week to draw for
another little personal love bomb
from my heart to yours.
Thanks for coming around:)

 

May be something new….

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I’ve been pouring gallons of tea on the ground,
a happy concoction I make for the gardens I tend
and with every splash of the fertile,  watery goodness
I feel strength find it’s way to roots
and it does this May thing in my heart
’cause it’s so much fun to pour on life
so,  mind if I splash, splash, splash
some fertilizer over you,  too?

Okay,  hold still…

May these be days of open doors and soft dappled light,
of warm southern breezes and lids lifted off,
a waterfall of birdsong pouring down
washing weary things clean.

May this season find you
and fireflies,  too,
with new dances and next steps in even old places,
new touches and brushes and whispers and spaces
and fresh grace to live close to your belly.

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May you lose the “it’s not worth it”
and feel it fluttering inside that you matter,
that you’re loved with a love
that isn’t lost or weak or sleepy,
a love that is leaning in and moving toward you,
meeting you more than halfway
with freedom to spare,
freedom to share
and fresh hope thumping joy inside your chest
with new rhythms.

I feel it for you,
your life growing into fresh new shades
of beautiful.
Drink it in….you are worth every drop.
.

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“Well I’ve got a hammer
and I’ve got a bell
and I’ve got a song to sing all over this land.
It’s the hammer of justice,
it’s the bell of freedom
it’s the song about love between my brothers and my sisters
all over this land.”

-folk song by Lee Hayes and Pete Seeger