Being Tender With Myself

Taking my time
Allowing the tears
Not pushing too hard
Simple walks outside
no big agenda
simply being present
Watching out the window
still or windy
birds flying by
clouds floating 
or filling the sky
taking it all in
Taking forward steps
but small gentle ones
no guilt included
Surrendering to what I need
right here, right now
a handful of chocolate chips
a glass of wine
asking to be held
letting the tears slip out
snuggled in a big blanket

Poetry
Wild Hearts
Grief, Death and Dying

Showing Up

I feel suspended in time. I am dealing with my Mom’s estate and I continue to take stock of her life. She told me in the year before her death she was a social misfit; she had no social grace. Funny thing is that is what I noticed my whole life. My mom was loud and boisterous. She laughed, loud, at jokes. She went about her life doing what she did, insisting others help her on her time, being the center of her own life. As a child, I found it embarrassing. 

Home

Home
in my husband's arms
curled against his back
holding his hand
my anchor 
Home
curled up on the sofa
wrapped in a warm blanket 
glass of wine nearby
Home
time with my daughter
laughing and sharing our lives
the connection
that spans the miles
Home
door closed
my personal space
sinking into my deepest self
allowing words to flow
Home
used to be talking with my mom
plotting garden ideas
or discussing family and life
that piece is fluttering

Poetry
Wild Hearts

For the Woman I Never Knew

You wore colors, 
oh so many colors
You wove a connecting thread
through scattered bits of family
binding us all into one
You gave of your time, talent and dollars
to help those less fortunate
and support your community
You were strong and independent
and maybe a bit stubborn
and once you made a choice
you saw it through no matter the cost
You quietly built a life
anyone could be proud of
and in the end, you left 
a legacy of love and wisdom
For me, you were just mom

Poetry
Grief, Death and Dying

Living Questions

Living questions
they are like 
agreeing to disagree
those questions
with no answers
you decide to let lie
Why?
Why did he do it?
How?
How did we get there?
Could I have anything differently?
Which thing?
Why did they hate me so much
as to want to destroy my career?
Where did this stone originate?
Why do I feel unworthy,
at times?
How do I heal this pain
in my heart and soul?
What is the secret
to a life well lived?
How do I impart my knowing

Poetry
Wild Hearts

You Are Beautiful

Image of a puppy

Hey You!
Yes, You!
Has anyone told you lately
how beautiful you are
how the light shines
just so through your eyes
how your smile
lights up the room
how your presence
makes us feel safe
like everything 
is going to be okay
You are perfect
just the way you are
you don't need some
new beauty regimen
or a big exercise program
you just need to be you
love yourself
like you love others
put down the hammer
and pick up the feather
gently stroke your cheek

Poetry
Social/Spiritual
Wild Heart

Where Do I Go When I Need To Get Away? What Does It Mean To Come Home?

Some days I love the idea of escape. Just run off and leave all the complicated stuff behind. Don't look back and keep on moving. I tried taking off for a day a couple times, years ago. I found when I got to the beach, I couldn't sit still. It didn't solve any of the problems I was trying to run away from. I quit trying to escape.

Driving My Life

I woke at 2:00 this morning with a dream.

I was driving a car at night down a highway. It was a smooth peaceful ride and then I came to a corner. As I moved into the corner, the car kept going straight. I grabbed tighter but still wasn't making the turn. I looked down and realized I held onto the gear shift with my right hand and the door handle with my left. I moved my hands to the steering wheel and tried to make the corner as I spun into the gravel. The dream seemed to end there though I was left with the impression of seeing myself land in the trees of the forest.

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