Time spent wisely …

Moving is such tedious work. However, now and again you’ll find something worth looking at whilst packing.

This afternoon I found old pictures of my family.

It’s odd to think that at one time we all lived under one roof and called this place home. We were a unit – a whole.

How strange to think that at one time my parents were married and that I shared a bathroom with an older sister. It was a simpler time in some ways. I knew what to expect on a daily basis. I knew that when I woke every morning that I would do so to a house that was bustling with life, routine, laughter, wonderful pets and of course love.

When did everything change? How have the years passed so rapidly? When did i become an adult with adult responsibilities?

Time is strange, it usually feels as if it’s passing much too quickly. Yet it’s always the same.

There are moments, when I desperately long to recapture my youth. I want to sit quietly on a Saturday morning eating Apple Jacks while watching The Banana Splits on a great behemoth of a television. I long for the sweetness of our family dog and cats. I desire the simplicity that was childhood, even though at the time, it seemed anything but simplistic.

But don’t we all now and again?

So, I allow myself a bit of dwelling, and then I pull myself out of the reverie, with the thought that yes, sometimes being an adult is difficult. Then I walk to the kitchen, find a bit of cookie dough and eat it for dinner (something I would never have been allowed to do as a child). And once again all is right with the world.

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Connections (Written in 2007, yet it seems somewhat fitting to share it once again at this moment in my life)

To me a connection is soulful. 

It is the moment that two souls realize they share a bond, whether it is from the past or present.

I believe that small connections are made on a daily basis, and that these small moments shape our minutes, hours, days and lives.  Yet we just don’t realize it at the time. 

Our  days are filled with noise, commotion, deadlines, stress and other mundane issues that insist on our attention.  So who has the time to truly see the infinitesimal moments that help to create the energy of who we are.

Then there are the larger connections,  the ones that we immediately realize will profoundly affect us in some way. 

The electrical currents that run from one individual to another for reasons that we are unaware of. 

When we unconsciously decide to share our self with another because we feel that magnetic pull. 

Walls are slowly lowered, lives are spoken of, secrets revealed and emotions shared. 

There are mental, spiritual, sexual and metaphysical connections that can be made with others.  But what happens when all of these different aspects are present? What does it mean? 

I once loved a man so deeply that I truly knew his thoughts or at least felt them.  I was aware of his needs without him ever verbalizing them.  I knew his presence from afar, even if my back were turned towards him (I could feel him and it (his energy) would cause me to momentarily stop breathing) I simply knew..

When he touched me, the entire world fell away and all I knew was a floating, warm sensation that enveloped me.  I would melt ~

His voice, his breath, his scent, his touch; it’s all I knew. 

And I was happy to know only these things, for somewhere inside I knew the beauty that we possessed ~ deep soul moving connection.

I realized recently that this is what I search for  ~ a deep soul stirring fit. 

Tonight at dinner with a friend we discussed this kind of spiritual relationship and I wondered aloud if it’s possible to find it again.  Or are we destined to love only one individual this way in our lifetime? Are our souls meant to wander this life hoping to collide with a known energy? Should we settle for something that is less than soul stirring to feed other desires? Or are we better off simply living our lives on our own?

I long to feel alive again and breathe in the essence of another and know that easy just being feeling again.

I do not share, yield or love easily…

I have walls; Walls that have been built not to keep people out but to see who will have the courage to climb them so that they may get “inside”..

But will anyone have the courage, willingness and desire to do so?  Will they crave the soft, sweet, swirling core of me enough to try?

I am patient.

Live my life with no expectations.

And surround myself with gentle silent faith ~

Gratitude day 5 …

Pink.

It’s not just a colour but a feeling.

It’s happy, girl like and at times quite sparkly (or it simply elicits a feeling of sparkliness).

While out and about this evening I ran across an entire area devoted too the pink and precious.   One item in particular caught my attention: it was a pink ceramic poodle.  Why did it catch my attention? Because when I was very young my mother bought me a ‘sick prize’.  This was a gift given only when I or my sister had been under the weather.  One day after one illness or another my mother and I found ourselves in Swenson’s Ice Cream Parlour. And, in the midst of all the wonderful sweets and sparkling treasures I found mine – a small ceramic poodle that I named ‘Pink Puppy’.  To this day Pink Puppy resides not only in my heart but in my treasure box as well.  So, in honour of day 5’s moment of gratitude, I am grateful for all things pink, pretty, sparkly and somewhat princessy.  And of course, the memories of childhood, sweetness and delight.

All hail the p.i.n.k.

Sentimentality …

Sentimental pieces.

An unsent card –

receipts –

a

dancing ballerina –

memories of moments shared.

I don’t know what to do with them all.

Currently they reside in a neat pile

next to pink leather.

Sometimes I wonder what it would feel like

to be heartless.

Without the inclination to keep happy – Summer windswept bits.

But if I was, would I be the same?

Not likely.

In the place of warmth

a

frosty maiden.

Cool and controlled.

In the next life?

Perhaps …

Pieces of life …

I’ve begun to pack away bits of life

Crystal pretties – ducks and bunnies

Voodoo dolls

Shells with memories

Artwork saturated with sweetness

A pink memory book that holds one finished page

but is littered with notes, receipts and sparkly pieces,

that still wait to be fastened.

Wanting to belong.

Yet somehow knowing they never will.

A dried flower falls softly to the ground – undone from its hidden place..

Books with earmarked pages

all gently wrapped  and placed in green bubbles and brown cardboard.

One soul defined –

and

heart remembered –

stored

but

not forgotten.

Time after time …

When I was younger I never thought about time.

It seemed endless and forgiving.

But as I grew older I realized time is finite.

And I wondered, how does one go from being a ingénue

to a blossomed 40 something?

The years seem somewhat dream like.

It’s as if one blink brought me forward 3 decades.

When I was 16 I longed for eighteen.

When eighteen I longed for 21.

And, at 21 I simply had longing …

Now, at 42, I desire –

a life filled with purpose

a heart full of love

passion

moments of beauty

and

unadulterated joy.

So, I now know that I must forge a mindful peace with time.

And, in doing so, I will relish every second, minute and hour that the universe blesses upon me.