Connection

Self-confidence

Being self-confident is hard.
I grew up in a culture that treated
Women’s bodies as objects.
Objects of men’s desires;
Objects in need of change:
Change in size,
Change to be fashionable
and contort my body to fit into current trends.

Women’s bodies were objects
That had to be managed
In how we moved,
How we behaved,
How we led our lives
And presented ourselves
To the outside world,
And how we treated our bodies
In private when no one was looking.

It is hard to be self-confident
When society bombards you
With messages that you are not enough,
You are falling short and failing
To an unrealistic standard.
(And who set up this system to begin with?)

I find my self-confidence gets easier the older I get.
Life experience and the inherent lessons that come with age
have taught me that acceptance is present and available
Only I hold the key to what is possible.

My reflection in the mirror is unique.
It is mine alone.
And I choose to love who I see in the mirror.

I choose to remind myself that
these negative messages 
do not reflect who I truly am.

I choose love.
Today and this day forward,
I choose to treat my mind, body and spirit
With gentle, loving acceptance.
Connection

I open the window of my heart

I accept the ever changing season.
The pendulum swings
From extreme heat to bitter cold.

I accept that among the cosmos 
The entire planet is smaller than
The dot in the letter i

I matter.  I belong here.
I walk the earth gently.
I smile upon those I greet
On this shared path.

I accept that this moment
is fleeting.
It always is.
And then the next.

I allow myself to fully accept
that which is out of my control.
I cannot make the icy wind chill go away
Nor stop the tide from crashing onto the shore.

And since the earth is but a dot,
My comings and goings hardly go noticed
And I accept that too.

My very existence means the world
To my family and friends
And that I do not take for granted.

When I feel surrounded by love
For myself and others
I open the window of my heart
And let love in.

Inspired by:
“Close your eyes and open the window of your heart.
Only when you have no more need for acceptance
will everything you do be accepted.” RUMI
Connection

I come from there (volume 2)

I come from there
With the spark of
Light, life and love.

The light that emanates
From my windows
And the voices that echo
Through the walls
With play and song.

The seasons come
And shape the landscape.
The house is warm, aglow
Or cool and dark.

The space we occupy
And call home
On this double lot
Of land with
Double driveways
And a large lawn for
Running feet
And space for the swing.

The hearth and place
For childhood memories,
Of love and stories
Made believe and real,
For connection
And friendship,
A gathering space
For family and friends.

The house may
Be small and
Feel confined
At times
Within these walls.

But love
Rules the day
As we read
Our bedtime stories
And share our
Nighttime rituals.
We kiss and hug
A love that lasts
More than space or time
Could ever endeavor.
And I, too, am aglow
Because I belong
And I proudly
Come from there.

abundance

This house

This house of ours
It is with love
that we share 
the memories,
the appliances and
the furniture.

We invite our hearts
arms open wide.
I am yours
and you are mine.

The furniture may change
through the years,
Along with the appliances
and technology.
The love is constant
like the walls that
shield us from
the storms.

When I am with you,
I know true acceptance.
There is no place 
for shame or blame
of past circumstance.
All are welcome to
embody this place.

The walls may hold
all the memories:
the proposal,
the wedding,
and contain
our growing family
as our hearts swell
in this shared space.

It may feel small at times.
When we feel there’s an
overabundance of toys
and gadgets.
There just doesn’t seem
to be any free space
to just be.

It is a manifestation of
our abundant love and
ability to provide our
children with 
cherished memories,
A foundation of
that security,
A love they can carry
with them 
into their own
future houses.
abundance

Open the window to love

When I open the window to love,
I let in more than just
fresh air or a better view.
There is love in the air.

A love of autumn
Bright, true colors shine through
Surrounded by the abundance of harvest.
Juicy apples and round pumpkins
to delight with flavor and
possibility.

The aromas, the sights, the sounds
of squirrels skittering and kicking
up brush, a treasure in its mouth.
It is survival instinct
to save for a cold winter's day.

I take a mental note and
decide to write what I'm grateful for
to reread for myself on a hard, cold day.

The harvest full moon rose last night
and I watched it take its usual
path across the night's sky.
In my mind's eye, 
I am looking at its face
as it kisses me across the cheek.

Such wisdom and stories it holds.

self-care

Remember

Remember the scent of the lilacs.
How the air just embodied their aroma
and drifted it into the windows
into my lungs.

Remember when they were teeny tiny buds.
How 5-year old Lilly marveled at their small size. 
Little purple bumps bursting from the green.

Remember the Easter lilies
and this was the first year
I got so low to the ground
I could actually smell them for the first time.

Remember the towering orange iris. 
Remember the hearty rosebush. 
Remember the mimosa tree that
once stood proud, colorful and fragrant. 
Now an empty shell.
Bare branches.
The weakened trunk sways with a gentle push.

Remember the dogwood’s white blossoms
and Lilly called the neighbor’s pink blossoms 
“flower snow” as they fell
and covered the ground in small piles of soft pink.

Remember the woodpecker, the cardinal, 
the new birds that decided to stop by for a visit.
Remember the bunny rabbit, like Old Faithful, 
arrives around dinner time 
looking for her evening meal as well.

Remember the hawk perched on top
of the playset as a squirrel huddled
and hid under the child’s chair
unmoving and the hawk ever patient.

Remember the blue jays that harassed 
and chased that hawk away
and the squirrel that timidly crawled 
commando style and lived another day.

Remember the sweet breeze from the ocean
even reaching here not so close to the shore
and how I marveled at the salty refreshing air.

Remember the first kiss.
The special rock overlooking the bay
and our life began together.
Remember that tender beginning love 
is still here under the surface.
A beloved memory but always here in my heart.
self-care

Why are we here?

Why are we here at this moment in time on this small blue green planet?

They say we too are made up of the stars down to the smallest molecule. It can feel so small when the universe is so vast. How can I affect change as such?

What I know is my life has meaning. The answer is always connection. The root is love. So how did I live the answer? I must have lived the question first.

What I didn’t know is I was being led by invisible forces, situations, people and opportunities which became my challenges, my lessons, my guides.

How to live a life well lived and loved is the question. It took me 40+ years to come to the realization and to accept even if the universe is so vast and my actions seem so small and individual, there is a ripple.

If I too am made up of the stars, I have a light inside. A unique heart like an emerald when the light hits it a certain way. I do not know who put it there or where does the light originate from. I can accept that it’s a part of me and we each have our own illuminated hearts beating in our chest. Not so narrow and individually separate. Our hearts can be in rhythm like the collective breath that illuminates the soul.