Sunday, March 29, 2015

Home

Written; May 16th, 2014



Appreciate your home extra hard for me today.
Don't make your bed just roll around in it.
Have a movie marathon in the living room.
Read on your front steps.
Shower comfortably. 
Put your clothes away.
 Hang them up in your closet.
Hang lots and lots of pictures.
Lay down on the carpet for no reason but to relax. 
Walk around in your socks.
Make dinner. 
Have desert.
Sit on your counter tops.
Do a cross word at the dinner table.
Run around just for the hell of it. 
Sleep in a bed of your own and don't get up until you feel like it.
Do all of this for me while I can't. 
Do it and love your home with its pile of dishes and dust bunnys. 
With carpet stains and dirty bathrooms. 
With soft couches and messy closets. 
With privacy and no check out times. 
With toys and socks under everything. 
With your little gardens and dusty outdoor chairs. 
Love your home for being the place to go to at the end of the day.
 Love it hard for me today, please.

Monday, March 9, 2015

Exhausted

The exhaustion will seep into your bones 
and it will feed you restless nights.
 It will deliver no patience. 
You will want to sink into that waterbed of numb bliss: DON'T. 
Do not lay your soul to sleep.
 Do not let fear deteriorate all that you fight to keep whole.  
Do not let yourself fall 
in hopes it will catch you. 

Whatever you do, my love. 
Do not trust the exhaustion. 

Sunday, March 8, 2015

Friendships.

You sit on itchy grass with the sun beaming straight on your back and you eat homemade cake with lots of frosting. You hug and you talk. You look around to the many peoples that invite you to life over and over and OVER again then you catch that beautiful chaos and tuck it away in a crack in that heart of yours. Yes sadness and yes pain but also YES to celebration and nicknames, hugs, stories and PEOPLE. Because no matter how much we convince ourselves otherwise we will need other people. Theres healing in friendship, yes that.


Sunday, March 1, 2015

Lullabies...

I read this piece at my churchs fundraiser and wanted to share it here.
Sadly, no one took video or pictures but whatever right?
Pfft, not like I would've like that or anything.

--------------------------------------------------------


I believe in the lullabies the universe sings to me
in the pleasant drops of kindness splattered all around my life
Me; believing in the confessions of time
and in natures hum of peace
lullabies that sound like stuttering honesty
and the oceans symphony
lullabies like soaring I love you's
and the music in-between the uncomfortable
Songs made up of effortless laughter
the sound of awkward conversations knee deep in vulnerability
Life sounds a lot like
I don't want to's but I have to's
it sounds like screaming children
and crying hearts
and a helluva lot of I don't knows
but there's kindness squeezed into the mess of reality,
it's in tight hugs
and loving gazes
It's in the sharing of pancakes
and cheesy pasta
those savory things like late night chats
and validating, 
I see you's

Life is perfectly engineered chaos
and kindness is the whip cream 
and warm pie

Oh, and time with its confessions.
Time confesses to me in revealing closure
and scabbed up wounds
that I continually pick at
all with my crooked hope
and ragged faith
I discover confessions at the root of my growth,
it all watering my expansion

But nature, 
a gift no greater
Bold and Beautiful
and ME,
walking its dirt paths that somehow create,
a momentum for healing
Mother Nature,
fierce and unapologetic
at a constant death and regrowth
with trees, 
tall and proud
YES,
I want to be like that
You will know me,
constantly blooming 
and never surrendering

So you see, I do believe
in the lullabies that lay my demons to rest
I believe in the lullabies that posses my soul to come alive
I have no choice but to believe in the confusing,
unpredictable ways of the universe

And so when I tire 
and begin to fade out
I will remember the sharing of pancakes
and the sacred kindness in eyes
I will hold up,
my crooked hope 
and ragged faith
I am bruised 
but fighting to stay whole
and even as bent as I know myself to be
I will be,
a kind of,
Bold and Beauitful

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