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Sweet Child

Published August 4th, 2008 in Uncategorized. Closed

Good night sweet child and stay

Your anxious words. For the

Night has come, with her charms

That twinkle and melodies so

Delicate. She sees well your

Heart bursting with the fires

Of hope and life – but the dawn

Has not yet arrived, little one

For you to release the dreams

That are birthed within your soul.

Just wait sweet child, until the

Night’s soft embrace is close

And warm; when your shining

Eyes can stay open no more.

Rest will come to free your

Fantasies and visions, that

They may soothe the wildness

Inside your imagination. The

Time for prudence is still at

Hand, my darling babe – until

The burning glow of the sun’s

Rays can grow your new spirit.

what’s love got to do with it

Published August 4th, 2008 in Uncategorized. Closed

“Love like you have never been hurt”
 

Love is such an amazing and powerful force – it can have the strength of worlds, and also be so fragile that a few words or one action can break its bonds in a mere moment. But yet, it can also only take one word (or act) to restore those broken pieces as whole again. Yes, love really is wondrous.

Someone recently sent me an email that included the statement above…it stuck to my brain like one of my friend Chris’ post-it notes and got me thinking on the subject of love. It is possible that we do not give Love enough credit.  Perhaps we view her as an emotion for the sappy and hopeless romantics? There are a good number of men who feel that showing love is actually a sign of weakness.

But the truth is that to love is to be rather courageous. It take a lot of guts to open your heart to another. I believe one of the bravest acts you can ever do in your life is to love.  And not just romantic love either – but compassion and empathy for the unlovely that may cross your path. Contrary to what some may believe, Love is neither blind nor naïve about the darker side of humanity; she just chooses to try and shine her light to chase away that darkness.

I might need to take back what I just said…the bravest thing you can do is not necessarily to love someone else, but to be able to love the person staring back at you from the bathroom mirror each morning.  We can find it so easy to love everyone else in the world ten times over, but we struggle and often fall short when it comes to loving ourselves. You have to love your own darkness for there to be any light inside yourself at all.

According to the Bible, Jesus love every side and shade of mankind enough to die for us. But what He did can not have any meaning for you as long as you refuse to love yourself. He chose to love us like we had never and would never grieve Him. That is some powerful love. We are our own worst judge and lover – because we can never seem to forget our wrongs. But you not only have to be willing to love others with all courage (like no one has ever broken your heart), you must love yourself in the same manner…like you have never broken anyone else.

Another good saying: “Being love so much should make a difference in your life; remember the one who loves you and be different because of it.”

 

something like an epiphany

Published June 22nd, 2008 in Uncategorized. Closed

I was recently sharing stories and experiences from my past with a friend.  Some of them occurred several years ago, but I could still recall almost every detail. As I was describing events and conversations, there was a tiny light bulb from somewhere within…deeper than just my mind…my soul perhaps that demanded to be heard. You can still remember this? Why would you even want to? Why are you still holding on to all of this? What does it matter now? When your soul speaks, it is usually a good time to listen to it.

The past is so alluring…the victories, the good times, the hurts, and everything in between. There is a big part of me who wants to scream “Enough!” to those old thoughts and memories. I want to forget it all and go on. It is rather masochistic how many times our past pain is actually a source of comfort, like a thorn covered security blanket. It hurts, but we have had it for so long that we would not know what to do without it.

Truth is, letting go can be scarier than we want to admit. Than I want to admit. But how can I ask for integrity from others when I refuse to demand it of myself? To the degree that you are willing to be honest with yourself is how much you can heal and move on with your life. We can be honest to everyone except the person looking back at us in the mirror. It is much easier sometimes to remain victimized within ourselves.

I am tired of being scared and keeping an emotional distance because of something that happened to me in the past. Sure it was a big deal, but was/is it go great that I will allow this wrong to dictate my life? It is like I swing too far either way; not opening up at all or spilling my guts (which is what I did). There is a happy medium somewhere in there…just need to locate it. There are time when I feel as though I have almost found myself. But she can be a fleeting nymph, so the chase is still in progress.

But my voice and my pen…seems I have managed to coax them from the shadows. Maybe opening up all of the web covered doors in my heart and mind was a way to really let everything out, and the nail the doors shut. I used to be so hopeful…of life and of people. I miss that. I dont want to be jaded anymore.

Flood the corridors of my soul with rays of

a dawning hope that can free my mind to bathe

in the seas of creativity and breathe the sweet

aroma of life.

fingers, blocks, and reflection

Published June 22nd, 2008 in Uncategorized. 1 Comment

For the past…probably few weeks, I have been grappling with an unusual form of writer’s block: my penmanship. I am neither completely old or new school when it comes to my work…I am a little bit of both. I write almost everything on paper before typing it…a way to help me lay out my thoughts.

In a somewhat weird exhibition of perfectionism, I am rather anal about me how my my words look on paper. If I make too many mistakes, I will tear the page out and re-write it. Yes…it wastes time and kills trees, but this is how I work for now. Possibly it is my crutch…either way, I cannot seem to write as I used to. I don’t know if it is a phase or something else.

My fingers feel like they are filled with lead as they rather clumsilt grasp my pen and flounder awkwardly across the page of notebook paper. It is like I have a clogged pipe somewhere in my brain. A saddening side effect has been the silence of my poetry voice. (sigh) Poor penmanship may not seem like much of a dilemma to most people, but it is bothersome to me. Maybe this is what baby birds feel like as they are being pushed out of the nest…

The funny thing is how this seems to be quite reflective of the present condition of my life. I have been staring at the end of the tunnel that was my marriage for almost two years…and now it is finally finished. It is an uneasy mixture of sadness and relief. I have needed closure so that I could move on, which is a big part of the reason to resume the use of my maiden name. Is it practical? Not really…I have so much that needs to be changed…from my social security card to credit cards to the title of my car.

But I need to do this…to gain back some part of myself from before I was Mrs. Lutz. And the sadness…well nearly nine years ago I vowed to love someone for the rest of my life, to be joined to them. This is not how it is supposed to end. I am glad it is over, but divorce really sucks…no matter how you slice it.

So do I give up writing until my fingers are freed from their lethargic bonds? I did manage to compose this blog without writing it out first, so there is hope. And I had a fleeting moment of poetic inspiration….

In the sweet essense that fills my heart

is the gentle stirring that beckons

your warmth and enrapturing love.

 

 

renewed interest

Published April 15th, 2008 in Uncategorized. 0 Comments

Pieces of my spirit are scattered at my feet as

I sit beneath the ever swaying willow trees in

my mind. Old tears have created a flowing river,

and new ones bathe the fresh grasses like a blanket

of dew. My mourning had almost claimed what was

left of my heart. And this meadow has become both

my refuge and my prison. And now there is you…

There is the warmth in your touch and I am so

hopeful for your love. Soften my jaded heart

and kiss the broken parts of me that you are

holding. This is a strange and uncertain road that

I am peering at. Let me see once more through

your opened eyes. I can smile knowing that the

sun will soon rise and light the way into your arms.