Overlooking a shiny new Mercedes on the highway next to the commuter bus I am traveling on I had the following epiphany:

I want a nice fancy car, not to drive but to be driven in.

Hmm… a simple thought, a little dream.

I grabbed the thought before it flitted away because it’s bigger than that simplicity. That’s a big dream. Don’t let it slip away.

Dream Big.

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Identity is hard
Acceptance is hard
Belonging is hard
Finding your way is a journey
Keep going
 * Love and Light – KP *

Runaway

I constantly feel like running away. It’s the weirdest sensation because I know it means I’m looking for something, aching for something but I don’t know what. Or maybe I do and I’m just not listening. 

As Deepak would say: “What am I hungry for?”

Maybe the real question is “What am I afraid of?”

Mind you by runaway I mean get up and go somewhere but I’m no teen. I could go… to live, to love, to stay, to grow? I’m not sure but I don’t want to stay put. 

What would you do? Where would you go?

Him again…

She was tingling. It was him.

He would slip in behind her, where ever she was and slide his hand across her belly.  With the slightest pressure he’d hold her to him, all things familiar, protective, and possessive.  She knew she should relish in their moment together, or should she?.

Her mind ran through the gentlemen she had encountered, images always dim, always who she already knew, always wrong.  Who is it? Who are you? She wanted to know but she knew not to turn around.  But, she inevitably always did.  Maybe it was instinct to look.  Maybe it was hope that this time would be different.  But each time – like the time before – he’d disappear.  He was there and then he wasn’t.  She was there and then she wasn’t.

She hesitated before opening her eyes.  Once she did, she sat up and stared past her nightstand to the window, sunlight filtering in through the blinds.  She shook her head and sighed to chase the tingling out of her body.  “Not again.”

(Untitled)

Drafted February 12, 2016

You’ve got 10 minutes. Just write.

Write about the love you wish for and the love the priest spoke about at mass.  A portrait of love is what you envision but getting there is another journey in itself.  Which way is left right, up, or down, I just don’t know.  The Father said that lent is about Love of Other, yourself, and god. Alms, Fasting, and Prayer.  You wonder how you’ll do it, how you’ll be a better catholic, a better person. Listen, learn, and grow.  “Don’t need to be scared”
Is it red? Is it blue?

I think I know what I want but then again I’m afraid to admit that to HIM, myself, or anyone else.  How to get past that? Don’t wait. Waiting too long.  My fears gnaw at me, forget the recesses of my mind, but along the dark walls calling out the potential, the worst case, the heart wrenching potential that things don’t go your way. My way.

Let’s be friends.  How long can we play that game? Show some affection, no? It’s that easy, no? Don’t wait. Why hesitate? I’m never sure what to do, and I think back and think of what I should have could have done differently.  It is what it is; there is no going back but what about next time? I don’t want to run out of time.  I don’t want to let anyone else swoop in and give the affection that I’m dieing to give. I couldn’t take it. My heart couldn’t take it. Commit to be that person, the affection giver, the intimate, the lover.  Make it me.  Choose me.

Still there are questions or am I blocking my blessings.  It’s right here, in my hands, in my lap, in my face.  Am I asking the wrong questions?  How do I steer the conversation in the right direction? Focused conversation.  Let’s get to the Heart of the Matter.  How can I feel so good when I’m with you and doing nothing but talking and laughing.  Preserve it, keep it safe, I’ll be the safe, you keep the key. We could be unstoppable together. Is it all in my mind.  Istn’t that where everything starts?  Love is built in the mind.  Why not choose love, here? With him? And HIM? Seeking guidance and affection, I pray to see what I need to see and listen to what that teaches me.  Are my blinders on?

Emergency Contact

Drafted July 12, 2016

Sirens blaring/ lights flashing/ EMT asking

“Ma’am are you okay?”

“Is there someone you can call?”

Someone you can call?

Someone you can call?

Someone you can call…

Who you gonna call? When there’s an emergency.  Who can pick you up when you’re down on your knees? Elbows scratched, knees scraped, she might need stitches but otherwise she’s safe,

We’ll keep her overnight for observation but yes thank you for coming forward

Who’s going to be there when you wake?

Who’s the name on your sheet?

Jane Doe you are not but it can feel like that.

Who do you have?  Who’s your emergency contact?

Settled in your sheets, they moved you to another room, the girl nearby has been humming some tune

She’s fidgety, alert, the opposite picture of you but when someone bounds through the door she’s suddenly calm. The energy exhange is clear.

Who’s your catalyst? Who’ll be there to pick up your energy or mellow you out? Who’ll be bounding through the door for you?

Tears

Where do tears come from? Welling inside from some unknown spout. You can feel it coming but you don’t know why. Pressure behind the eyes. Sniffling before you realize you started, nose releasing in time with your eyes. How did it effect you so? Why did it?

Happiness, sadness, despair, loneliness. 

Fear, anger, excitement, awe.

Most of all… love. 

Love makes us cry sometimes. Love for yourself. Love for one another. Love for truth maybe Love for the liar.

No matter why we cry it’s part of our human makeup. And though we may question it when it comes, there’s a message in our tears. Let it clear our page and cleanse our sight. Until we can go back to shining our light.