Tag Archives: inspiration

But really…

Sometimes
when I feel so much and don’t know how to form it into thoughts,
so much I don’t know what to say,
so much I don’t know what to tell myself,
I read poetry.
I find the light and I find inspiration, I find meaning
in the passed great poets who have formed into words for me how to feel.

Bukowski wrote “We are here to laugh at the odds
and live our lives so well
that death
will tremble
to take us.”

Thanks for those words Bukowski.

May I laugh.
May death tremble.
May I tremble.
May death laugh at me.

What is your biggest fear in life?
What is it?
It’s not really an easy question to answer, is it?
We all have our cursory fears: heights, sky diving, black cats, spiders, clowns, ghosts.
Then we have our deeper fears: being mugged, raped, kidnapped, shot and murdered.
But what about those fears
that we will never say
that we never let touch our lips
that we hide so deep down they are in the bottoms of our shoes,
they are practically not even ours anymore, 
but those bottom of our shoes, never touch our lips fears are always there.
And I feel like its always going to be there. And that, that scares me.

So what is it? What is your bottom of your shoes, never touch your lips fear?

I’m not going to tell you what mine is,
because I don’t think I truly know.
Maybe one day, hopefully many many years from now
when I’m in my grave, because, no one ever pictures themselves actually dying, right?

I don’t picture myself in a terrible car crash dying of internal bleeding six years from now.
I don’t picture myself lying in a hospice bed when I’m 90, breathing out of one of those tubes stuck up my nose holding the hands of my children and my children’s children.
I don’t picture death that way – and let me be clear – death, is not what I fear. I will get to that.

But I picture death as having already died. I see myself, pale skin, closed eyes, lying in a silver coffin,
with my arms folded on top of my chest,
and God I hope that whoever dresses me for my burial
puts me in a really hot dress and heels.
And when I picture death, when I see that bright light shining around me,
because God, I hope there’s a God
because if there’s not then what’s all this trying for, god,
and when I picture death, I imagine
an opening of the curtains, a Ringling Brothers Circus, revealing of all the questions, all the decisions I ever or never made,

all the things I lost,
all the people I lost, displayed there, right in front of me.
In front of my cold dead face, in hot red dress and heels.
I imagine that is when I face my greatest fear, I didn’t have my first kiss until I was 16 years old. I was sure there was something wrong with me, but really, I don’t think there was.
I was just like all the other girls.
I didn’t have sex until I was 21. I was sure there was something wrong with me, but really, I don’t think there was.
I was just like all the other girls.
Now I’m 28 years old and I have never told a man that I love him. I’m sure there is something wrong with me, but really, I don’t think there is, I wrote this resolution to my self: start 2017 strong, start everyday strong. I’m 28 years old and I have never told a man that I love him. I’m sure there is something wrong with me, but really, I don’t think there is. I am not ashamed. I am not afraid. I am empowered inspired and strong. I have never told a man that I love him. Sometimes I am sure there is something wrong with me, but really, I am not like all the other girls. 


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Advice to my Self in the New Year:

Start 2017 strong.
Start every day strong.
Be yourself.
Be kind to yourself.
Be kind to others.
Stand up for yourself.
Say what you want to say.
Have courage.
Fight for what you want.
Be brave.
Be gentle.
Be real.
Stop being afraid and trust yourself.
You will be okay.
Let others in.
Wash the dishes.
Don’t apologize for feeling.
Be okay with being by yourself.
Create your own happiness.
Take care of yourself.
Learn new things.
Don’t let yourself down.
Create.
Write.
Read.
Prioritize the things that make you happy.
And above all, be your best self.
You can be the person you want to be.

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I am enough

Sunday.

This week, I am going to choose to be happy. I am committing, now, to making a choice or a decision or doing something special and particular once a day for the next five days that *I* want to do and that will make *me* happy. This is a practice in self care, in self love, in trusting myself, being okay with myself, and being proud of myself. This is a practice in being the best me. This is accountability to myself. This is learning and growing. This is being strong. This is me living life. This is me learning to cherish myself. This is me teaching myself that I am enough. 

Each day, I’ll update this post with what I did to choose to be happy that day:

Monday. It made me happy to me kind to the other people in my life, and I challenged myself and put myself out there by going to a write-in for National Novel Writing Month and meeting new people. The healthy beet salad I had for dinner also made my happy – it was delicious!

Tuesday. What a day. Election Day. I got to vote for our country’s first female presidential nominee. It was a powerful and beautiful feeling that filled me with joy. I also did a short run and it felt good to be active in the sunshine and in short sleeves in November.

Wednesday. It was hard to be happy this day and I cried many times. I got very angry, and not only at the election. But seeing how much my friends and the people in my life were there for me and for each other, seeing how the women – and some of the men too – that I know where banding together, standing up strong for what they believe, and offering to help others – that gave me hope and made me find happiness in all the sadness.

Thursday. Good conversation with new close friends, the kind of conversation where the hours just melt away and it feels like no time at all. 

Friday. Doing new things, and doing things you always wanted to do. Being there for your friends and being a good friend. Walking, strolling, and saying hello to people. 

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Like you write

Write with a vengeance
write like this is the last poem you will ever have
that these are the last soft spoken words that you’ll
put onto paper
write like the sun won’t set tonight
or won’t rise with the morning
write like you don’t believe in regrets
that you don’t believe in fairytales
but rather you believe in life
write from your fingertips
write from your toes
write the most truthful thing you
have ever felt
write like you are the sun and the moon
write like you are the sea
write with so much strength and
trust in yourself.

Love, like you write.

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January

WRITE EVERY DAMN DAY.
Write with whatever you have wherever you are.
Write from your heart. Write from your anxiety.
Write from your desires.
You don’t have to write well. Or good.
To hell with spelling punctuation fancy handwriting.
Write because it makes you happy
and you damn well deserve to be happy. Everyone deserves to be happy.
Write until your hands ache. Write
the truth.
Write with bravery
courage.
Write lies.
Write the past the present what you want to come.
Write to stay alive.
Write for yourself.
Write because it’s your passion. Write because
YOU ARE A WRITER.
Write because it’s all you want to do, all you want to be.
All you are.
Write.

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Truer Words

Stay golden: be the golden threads that hold
this unravelling world together. Be bright,
don’t let the weary fade you. Stay young, remember
what it was like to be carefree, to play in the mud,
to stomp in the rain, to have first kisses.
Stay true, surround yourself with those who
you feel comfortable being your true self around.
Let the gold things stay, and linger.

Be the light: be that great force that carries on
strong through the night. Be inspirational.
Let lightning stream from your fingertips, come out
your eyelashes. Be the lantern that glows
when the campfire goes out. Brighten everything.
Be the continual light for the world’s
rolled up American Spirit.

Be the crazy: feel discontened, feel abnormal,
feel everything, feel overwhelmed, feel anxiety,
feel belonging, cherish being the belonged,
feel hungry, feel passion, feel concerned,
feel curious, feel wanting more.

I am always chasing sunsets, but it is okay,
they are my sunsets. They were made for me.

I am alone, but it is okay, it is my alone.

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To accept

Realize that you made things the way they are because of how
frightening it can be to have dreams and to go after remarkable
dreams – to keep your dreams in an open jar at your bedside.

Feel disconnected. Feel like you’re crazy: just hold on. Hold on
to your mother, to your father, to the memories of your
grandmother with wrinkled frail hands – to hold on tightly.

Don’t put bravery to bed. Shake it, and wake it up. Be incredible,
be your own best masterpiece every single day. And be the best
damn street sweeper that you can be – to accept who you are.

Climb the mountains in your life, becuase when you stand at the
summit that feeling of insignificance, of catching your breathe,
of wonder and honor and fear – to accept who you are becoming.

Be okay when everything is not right, with loneliness, with distant
empty hope. Know that the longing strengthens and awakens you – to
accept the days and moments and breaths that you have been given.

To speak softly, to touch gently, to let go, and to live.

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Poetry, poetry…

One of my all-time favorite poems is this one by poet Gary J. Whitehead. I don’t recall how I came across it, I just did many years ago, probably five or six years ago by now, and it has stuck with me. I printed it out and have that folded and aging sheet of paper tucked away in random books in by bookshelf, re-stumbling upon it all the time.

I love the line “Be glad, or be sad if you want, but be…”. The poem is simple yet complex, it’s innocent but secretly daring. It’s real. I feel it. It inspires me.

So here’s my version of some Wednesday writing, inspired by Gary Whitehead:

The Leaves of Your Own Understanding

Promise me you’ll be,
you’ll always be part of something more.
That hour, where you sit and think a bit…
Go. Grasp what’s in front of you,
push past the cobwebs to the new light.
Dance down the street. Really boogie like
the blues that you never knew you had.

And be mad. When things make you angry
it’s okay to be mad and be sad.
But whatever you are being, be more,
like that sailboat when the winds have died
and the crew are sinking their oars in
and pulling back with so much desire for that
sandy shore.

Just like the sailors love the sea,
I wish you great love,
the kind that would have knocked down the Berlin wall with a wink. I wish you no fear
so that you can walk through the dark
when there’s no light ahead.
I wish you happiness, the kind that you
feel from the inside out.

Leave what you don’t like behind, take
your passions and make them burst into millions
of sparkling pieces that scatter your life.
Grow more, grow taller, grow greener, grow higher
towards the skies, towards the heavens.

Take adventures and seek monumental changes
big like France, like Africa.
Go places, see things, be a part of it all and keep moving forward and waiting for that something,
that something
that changes you for the better.

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