Maybe I am just a speck of dust , soon to be vacuumed up by the hand of Life. But while I am here I’d like to make my life matter. Perhaps over time I can join the grains of sand that become pearls. One thing I have learned is that in order to be efficient I have to allow for times of grief. I feel as if I have been fighting this tidal wave over the past few weeks. My energy has been low. I have been much lazier than normal. I have allowed my feelings to get hurt. I wallowed in the mire. I have had horrible miscommunications leading me to fall face forward into the mud. The difference being however, is that I allowed for myself to be petty, agitated, and grumpy. I blamed it all on Father Winter, or should I call Winter a wicked Step-Mother.
Normally, I revel in the extra time to read, bake, be with the kids. But this past month, I have felt more like a puppet on a string. And then a few days ago, it was as if something inside me started to glow again. I thought maybe I am remembering to be grateful. Maybe I was hormonal. Maybe I needed to be humbled and so attracted drama into my life. All of the sudden, the cardinal on a snow laden branch bursts open my heart.
I have started singing again. My husband and children are beautiful. I was forcing myself to be grateful for my loved ones to try and get myself out of my funk. I was meditating on the grace and beauty of my friendships as a life line back to myself. All of which was helpful. And then I found out that YES< MERCURY WAS IN RETROGRADE!
There has got to be something to it. All of the sudden I can mediate on the crystalized beauty in front of me again, and the gratitude is sincere. I don’t have to borrow from my past feelings of love. The love is again with me in the present.
Nothing is useless. Every single human being has the potential to sparkle. We need to take more time to witness each other.
I needed to grieve the end of a friendship. I honored it with my tears, and after a week of feeling bad, and the weight of the planets on my shoulders, I have rebounded so much lighter and in love again.
Jut as my daughter found the beauty in these, um, wine corks, laying around, I can find the beauty in my contradictions. I can find the beauty in allowing myself to briefly visit being ugly on the inside and my realization that I don’t like it there.
I can remember who I am, and my poem for any of you who also may have forgotten:
A Reminder of Who We ARE
We are earth.
Our curves like the hills and valleys,
each unique, each sublime.
Our very flesh and blood
one day returning
to the womb of our mother.
And like the earth
who bubbles up
the burning passions
of her center,
we too erupt.
We are that same fire
that extinguishes itself
through its giving completely to warm
the weary and disheartened.
Sometimes devouring everything around
to transform into a blanket of ash.
We are water.
Our tides pulled
by the very moon itself.
Our endless wanting
like the eternal ripples
of waves on sand,
until we swell up
crashing down upon
the grains of our desires.
We are the air that we breathe,
an invisible essence
creating gentle breezes
from our whirlwind of care taking
turning and turning
into a tornado of selfless fury.
It is our very nature to swell,
to fall, to devour,
and yet with the
constant emotion of life,
the giving and the taking,
we are beautiful.