Category Archives: freedom

Tomorrow’s Outlines

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This is my first poetry duet with Hastywords and hopefully not my last.  She is truly a talented writer and beautiful person.  I’m sure you’ve already clicked follow on her blog, but if you haven’t you are missing out!

~

I found myself wandering aimless

between several different worlds,

in and out like a homeless ghost

my mind splitting, fracturing

and my perspective splintering

Lost in a cavern of realities

whispers of promise echoing

taunting, just out of reach

unsure of which path to choose

I float in a sea of uncertainty

bleeding colors

The colors of my past are bleeding

hiding lessons learned in a foggy gray

feelings and emotions are muddled

until I feel I may drown, breathless

inside all my lost yesterdays

The canvas of my life stares blankly

looking back at me with ambivalence

urging me to lift my head

beckoning me to not just tread water

but to thrive and embrace what lies beyond

Before despair takes me asunder

I focus only on paths ahead, determined

blurry lines begin to sharpen, harden

into black and white, new outlines

new paths, waiting to be colored in

~

(image credit: Stina Persson)

Word Cloud Wednesday

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I’m not sure why this particular string of words entered my head.   The story seems a bit dark.  This post is in response to Word Cloud Wednesday on We poets Show it.  The post should be written with only the words in the cloud.

word cloud

Friends knew. Nannie guessed. Mama talked.

Poor kid – dumped, barefoot,

hands holding little, began tired wander.

“Lightning” later sprinkles farmhouse.

Fireflies. Memorable time,

memorable conversations melting.

Black.

Friends open arms, holding magic – new house, new mama, new daddy.

Journey back to me

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It was a collaboration week for me last week and this time I put some words together with TwinDaddy from Stuphblog.  I’m sure you all know him and if you don’t, you are missing out!!  Take a few minutes to check out his diversity and genuine talent.  Here is what we came up with.

Journey back to me

I put you up there

not knowing that you would fall.

The pulse of the rain matched my heart beat

as I watched you tumble from that pedestal I put you on.

When our love ended, you had further to fall.

 My illusion of you faded.

Your ruse succumbed to reality

as softly as a leaf falls from its tree.

That pedestal floated gently to the ground

when at last you unveiled your true self.

Although my heart was shattered,

it was easier for me to pick up the discarded pieces.

I recognized those parts of myself that I lost,

eviscerated pieces of my soul that you took.

I could finally begin to rebuild the person I was.

Piece by piece, brick by brick,

a new masterpiece painfully crafted.

A new me, a stronger me

able to withstand torrential emotions,

lithe enough to dodge abusive traps.

Your journey was a plunge to the death of the disguise.

My path was a quest to rebuild what was taken.

I emerge stronger, my scars will heal.

I take back what was rightfully mine.

I put myself up on that pedestal.

pedestal

Fragments of myself

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I have been reflecting a lot lately – looking back at the phases of my life where I defined myself in terms of my relationships with other people.  I even introduced myself with those titles.  I was always a daughter, a sister, a step-mom, a wife (now ex-wife) and it has only been recently that I have begun to describe myself in terms of who I really am – me.

All of those monikers are still a big part of who I am, or was, but they are only pieces of my bigger puzzle.  I have found new ways to describe myself that truly incorporate the essence of me and not just how my being relates to other people.  After years of missing the most integral part of who I am, I have found the proper words to define myself.

puzzle-pieces

(image credit: loridennis.com)

In the past, I had deconstructed myself and put smaller pieces of me into everyone else’s puzzle.  I was happy to be the daughter or the sister.  I didn’t feel lost nor did I feel any sense of being an incomplete person.  I merely slipped into the shadows of the lives around me.  I became an extension of them and the fault of that circumstance was all mine.

After many months of contemplative thought I have become aware of a new sense of self – a confidence to simply extend my hand and introduce myself with only my name.  There is no longer a follow-up delineation of how I relate to anyone other than myself.  I am, in the simplest of definitions, me.

Those fragments of myself constitute a big part of my life but they are no longer words I use to acquaint myself with anyone new in my life.  Eventually those pieces of my puzzle will fall into their rightful place but that place is not the definition of who I am.

Clinging to a life – Trifecta challenge

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Orbs of white light,

phantom spirits circling,

lingering, clinging to a life they once knew,

a life they chose not to leave.

The pull of emotion, of attachment,

keeps them here in physical world

longing to prove they still exist.

They travel with us through darkness,

longing to reach out, to touch flesh.

They reside with us in sleep.

They hover, watching us during our slumber.

They bathe in the light of our life force,

pausing  in the shadows,

unseen by the human eye.

They reveal themselves in pictures,

longing for us to feel their presence

and know that they are still with us.

They cloak us in comfort,

their love too strong to let us go,

too strong to pass fully to the other side.

orbs

~

(image credit: greatdreams.com)

Written for the Trifecta Challenge: Now, onto this week’s prompt. We’re still not totally spooked out by you guys yet and we’re a little way from Halloween proper so get your ghoul glad rags on again this week. If there’s anyone who puts the ghoul in ghoulish, it’s you lot. Have fun and, as always, make sure you use the THIRD definition. This week we are back to entries of 33-333 words.

PHANTOM (noun) 1   a :  something apparent to sense but with no substantial existence :  APPARITION      b :  something elusive or visionary      c :  an object of continual dread or abhorrence 2 :  something existing in appearance only

3 :  a representation of something abstract, ideal, or incorporeal – See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.QecVLKnT.dpuf

The Silver Lining – 100 Word Challenge

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“What will Heaven be like?”  Her youthful eyes looked to him for answers.

His breathing tubes got in the way when he tried to speak to her. “You know when you see a really dark rain cloud and most of it is black?”

She nodded her agreement.

“Well, Heaven will be like those glorious slices of silver light that radiate around the cloud. Those little pieces of light give everyone hope for something better.”

She curled up under her Grandfather’s arm and held him as closed his eyes. She knew he was on his way to find that silver light.

clouds 008

Written for the 100-Word Challenge over at Julia’s Place.  Photo credit is all my own.

I am simply me

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I am me.  There is nothing more or less to me.  When you look at me you see me at face value and I am truly the sum of my parts.  I will never change to be anything other than who I am.

I-Am-Me.001

(image credit: sekutenetwork.com)

I have a great capacity to live my life the way I choose and no outside force will alter my path.  Some may not understand my journey but my path has been laid before me to follow and I do so willingly and without hesitation because this path is taken with the knowledge that I have carved it myself.  My road is created from a belief in who I am.  My road is paved with an understanding of my true identity and I am comfortable having my feet follow its winding path.

My road does not define me, I define it.  It is not sculpted from pettiness or jealousy, nor is it furrowed from frustration.  My road is simply an open path to my happiness and I follow it knowing that this is the journey I was meant to take.  It may not be the road chosen by many but this artery of life is meant for me.  It is unique and the fellow travelers I meet on this stretch of highway were meant to cross my path.

My journey to be me follows the beat of the incessant drumming only I can hear.  The mellifluous sounds keep my compass pointed in the right direction and I am happy to continue putting one foot in front of the other.  I will never again stray from my path because this passage allows me to be the truest version of myself.  It allows me to simply be me.

Ashes to ashes – Trifecta Challenge

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After surviving ten years of an emasculating marriage, Jake had reached his breaking point.  His friends made many jokes at his expense and he was tired of being bullied by everyone.

She would be expecting an extravagant anniversary present so, after extensive research, he booked a trip to the Babuyan Islands so she could bask in the raw beauty of nature.  As anticipated, she complained about the coach seats on the plane.  She complained about the oppressive humidity.  She profusely disapproved.

Her obituary was poignant and sad.  Who knew she would have met her fate in that volcanic chasm?

babuyan

(image credit: lastwildplace.ph)

Written for the Trifecta Challenge – This week we are giving you a page from the Oxford English Dictionary.  The ninety-ninth page, to be exact.  (Click to enlarge.)  From this page, you can choose any word, any definition, to use in your post.  (Please type your chosen word in bold, so we know.)  And instead of our typical 33-333 word limit, we are asking for 99 words exactly. – See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.8OvMgQVR.dpuf

Now leaving your comfort zone…please fasten your seatbelt

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This post was inspired by this post.  Thanks Guap for getting the wheels turning again!

“Life begins at the end of your comfort zone” ~ Neale Donald Walsch

Risk and reward.  Two words that represent how life really begins when you take that chance and step off the ledge of your comfort zone.  Life in a safety bubble is just that, safe.   No adventure tale every begins with the lead character being stuck in the confines of their comfort zone.   With risk comes adventure and the potential for really harnessing an energy that you never knew existed.

We create and shape our comfort zone for a reason.  It brings us the solace that we crave.  But frequent trips outside of that comfort zone can open up a world of possibilities and give us a sense of freedom.  It can allow us the opportunity to perceive things about ourselves that we never would have otherwise discovered.  And it doesn’t have to begin with a great leap of faith.  Small changes in our routine can lead to a monumental swing in our level of acceptance and can eventually increase the size of our comfort zone.

It is a given that stepping out of that comfort zone will lead to some anxiety and discomfort but the small pains we face to grow our experience will be well worth the gains we appreciate on the other side of the journey.  We need to re-wire the built-in mechanism that regulates our level of apprehension when it comes to trying something new.

Change is frightening but change is also cathartic.  Real personal growth can only occur if we allow ourselves the opportunity to expand our horizons, to go beyond the constraints with which we bind ourselves.  Reaching beyond that level of comfort will allow us the chance to gain more confidence and gain a sense of power from our attempt to evolve.

Take that first step towards the ledge, and then take another.  Slowly you will gain the confidence and know that the precipice that faces you is not as daunting as you first thought.  The fear that you embrace can only hold you back from finding out what awaits you once you take that plunge.  Perhaps the thing that scared you the most will hold the key to you truly feeling like you can conquer the world.

The countdown begins

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“Do not let the behavior of others destroy your inner peace.”

~ H.H. The Dalai Lama

It never ceases to amaze me.  Human behavior, whether good or bad, has enough energy to directly affect our own sense of self.  I am a calm person.  I have always had a great sense of peace about me and am quick to find the good in situations and in people.  But my faith in human nature takes a strong nose-dive when tourist season begins.

When you grow up in a small town or a small community, there is a true sense of peace knowing your neighbors and being familiar with those around you.  You learn to expect a certain level of camaraderie and happiness.  The members of the community embrace you and are quick with a smile and a genuinely warm hello.

With the arrival of the Canada Day long weekend, that seems to have changed.  No longer will you find the locals out shopping at all hours of the day and carrying on conversations as if nothing were more important.  Now those locals are hidden behind the doors of their homes, emerging only in the early hours of the day to do their shopping to avoid the onslaught of tourists.  The freedom of being able to enjoy our tiny town has vanished.

crowd

(image credit: theinertia.com)

I ventured out too late this morning and became caught in the vortex of that familiar angst and cynicism that seems to travel North on Highway 400 and vacation here during the months of July and August.  Everyone is in a rush to get everywhere and tempers are short.  I arrived at my familiar grocery store, exited my vehicle and my eardrums were pierced with two unfamiliar voices arguing about the angled parking  job of one of the overwhelmingly expensive vehicles in the parking lot.  I guess the memo about relaxing while on vacation was never sent!

We, as a community, have 10 short weeks to ‘make hay while the sun shines’, as the old saying goes.  For as much as these tourists treat us as an inferior breed of humans, they are a grand part of our existence.  So we grin and bear it….and we begin the countdown to Labor Day Monday.

Like animals emerging from hibernation, we allow ourselves to come out of our homes and once again greet the land and our surroundings after that glorious September long weekend.  We take deep breaths of fresh air and greet our friends with a smile, having survived another two months of insanity.  The local pub patios are packed with locals happily waving at the cars as they make their way back to their concrete jungle.  On rare occasions, streakers have been known to hit the streets with signs, wishing the tourists a safe ride home.  (well, it may have been worded differently, but you get the idea).

Until that day comes, I will do my best not to let the stress of these visitors infect my happy disposition.  66 days to go….but who’s counting??