Your abundant heart

I watched you sleep quietly. 

If there is a face for my prayer, your sleeping face was it.

You are the prayer, the answer too. 

A gift, a message, a blessing.

I listened to your faint breathing.

Why aren't you breathing deeply, why aren't you breathing loudly, why so quiet?

Take up space! Fill up your lungs with life. Soar... 

Your eyes twitched a hundred times, you smiled too.

My heart smiled with you. 

I thought I couldn't love you more in your usual full chatter mode, and then came your sleep and still mode. I melted a little.

A promise to myself to get a little bit less poetic, as soon as the novelty of learning about your existence has faded away. 

In the meantime, I prepared my achy heart to fathom the richness of your being.  

Show me more, I can take you, all of you. 

Show my heart a matching abundance.

I thought I was alone...

and then came you.

May you have the most deepest, most peaceful of sleeps. May the most soothing and heart filling dreams visit your mind. May your soul know limitless joy, in your sleep, or waking. 

Bird poop

The rain is here, it stayed, so did birdie. It flew away in the morning, making flapping sounds which woke me up. 

The floor where it stayed is covered by poop, I'm used to cleaning that up at this stage. It feels both weird and nice to have these visitors. 

The rain is here, it stayed, making my chest expand with so much joy and gratitude. 

The rain is cleaning and cleansing, another harsh summer is behind us, a new passage, a new chapter, and beautiful clouds enclosing me, for repair. 

The rain is here, it's staying, for a good while. 

I will rejoice. 

 

Petrichor

It rained for the second time few hours ago. More rain poured down this time around, and for a longer period. It was oh so beautiful, and the smell, heavenly!

A new bird lays on the balcony again, he / she came a couple of hours before the rain. It's resting in the corner of the balcony floor now, the angle opposite where I sleep. I have the curtains wide open, and the window ajar. The clouds are nice and bright, thanks to the full moon. The air is fresh and clean. I will give in to sleep soon, I hope the bird enjoys the view. 

September is bitter sweet... 

The aftermath

I swat profusely last night. Odd, very odd, especially considering the weather drastically changing. 
I haven't had a good night sleep in so long, napping is proving to be tricky too. Everything is messing up with my mind, disrupting my inner clock, compass too. 

There's a cricket on the balcony on his back, he's dying. I've had good few of those lately, and I get excited over the idea of keeping them to use later on in art projects, but they seem to always disappear. I'm assuming the birds are eating them. 

We've had many birds visiting lately too, at one point, a bird stayed throughout the night, till the morning. The floor was covered with bird poop. I tried to read into it, I got different clashing inputs from different friends. The same with the praying mantis last year, it stayed on our balcony for more than a weak. 

Summer is officially over, the morning air is so fresh and beautiful, the crickets slowing down on their singing activity is leaving room for the birds songs to be heard again. 

The sun doesn't shine fully through my room anymore, it covers a little part of my bed in the morning, soon enough it will be out of sight totally.

I'm so grateful and thankful I made it through summer, now however, the aftermath. 

My nervous system is out of whack.

I need resting. 

I'm ready for the rain. 

Full circle

When I focus long enough, I could almost see you. You're sitting on a chair on the balcony, your back to the mountain, you're facing me. You're looking at me lying on my floor bed, you see it all, my pain and the bruises.

I could almost see you now, father, and I feel your stare, and I'm hearing your silence.

How fortunate have I been to come from you, to be like you, to long for you. What blessing, what bliss. 

I'll bare this new pain courageously, it's enough for me if only you know, if only you see.

I miss your very heart, your mind, and your hands. Oh how just how I miss your hands.

I'll cry myself to sleep tonight. I'll hum a little tune, will recall your scent, your face, and the touch of your most warmest, most safest, most generous hands, and will drift to sleep.

Carry me in the dream please, I need your strength tonight, if only just for a brief moment.

Weaning

The hardest thing to write today would be the truest. 
Heart is oh so heavy, though it rained. 
14th September, first rain, and a new cat. 
New and old pain, new and old ways, new and old realizations. 

The truest thing to write  today would be that I am shattered.
I need comfort and warmth and thoughtful gestures and loving actions, and the realest and most genuine of intentions, and the most honest of words, and meaningful wordings.

Heart feels like a soft dough that went off, having expanded but now shrinking.

The truest thing to write today would be that I miss you, and the losing myself in you, and the harm too.

This is how damaged I am, I miss you, and I learn how to let you go of my world, a little bit more with every new day. 

You used to be sun and moon and all the seasons, and now I pray for the seasons to wean me off you, and heal me from you. 

Fade in

Count the blessings, remember. 
Walk the talk, listen. 
Fade out, then come again. 

Birth,
nurture,
give,
surrender. 

Surrender, 
surrender. 

Open the door,
Let the sun shine through that cracked window,
do not fear. 

He is Sun, and moon, 
Earth and sky,
life and death,
the reason, the seen, 

and the unseen. 

Cry, if you must, 
but no more bleeding.

Stop,
the scar will heal,
He will heal it for you,
Just like He does your aching heart, 
just like He did,
all those many times before.

Remember,
you as a child,
you as a baby, 
you as an embryo,
remember, you were never alone, 
just remember.

He's there, 
now too,
Him and his, 
remember,
surrender. 

It's OK to cry,
weep if you must,
but...

Surrender,
to the pain.

Accept the healing, 
receive. 

He's salve and salvation.

Just breathe.

You...

There's loving you,

and then there's the longing, the waiting to be with you. 

I love the very longing, though it pains me. 

Your face when I see you... 

I love the very waiting to see your face. 

The anticipation thrills me with joy and sadness. 

But there's always your face, makes me remember and forget oh so many things. 

How could you possibly be so unique this way, and all the other ways.

I love the very resisting of you too... 

Everything in between

Today I don't want to write the words, I need for the words to write me. 

I'm fluid and soft and sweet, I'm tender and flowing. 

Today I wish to surrender to the misty morning breeze. 

The clouds are pretty, they promise of Autumn. 

I need pretty, and clouds. I could do with fulfilled promises. 

Today I'm warm and nice, today it's warm and nice, and flowing... 

I'm earth and land and sweet little things. 

I'm colors and textures and flavors. 

Today I am mother, and child. 

Today I am gestation,

and embryo. 

Today I am life, and death, and everything in between. 

Today I am manifestation, 

and the dream. 

The light, and the tunnel

The anniversary of our last move was two days ago. On the 28th August 2020 I moved with Yasmina to our current apartment. It has been a healing home for us, I am grateful for all that lead me to being here, at this time and space. 

We didn't celebrate, a cake usually would be the staple thing to get for such occasions. Though we seldom need an occasion really for cake, cake is life! However, I have been cleansing on the inside too, which meant eating much cleaner, and refraining from emotional / binge / comfort eating. When I get the cravings these days, I turn to healthier foods and ingredients. It almost feels bad how luxurious this is now, as prices of things have skyrocketed lately, and keep on doing so exponentially. Nothing makes sense in this country anymore. Still...

The price of my self sabotaging has been quite high, and drained me for so long. I find myself once again face to face with harsh realities, re-evaluating things, concepts, people, lessons, results. I'm at peace with where I am now, even though it could be temporary, even though it could be a passing phase...

Another stage of cleansing has been purging, removing Chris even more from my system. I managed to throw away jewelry pieces, documents, files, letters, recordings, writings, and much more that I simply could not have parted with before - nor thought was ever needed. Clinging to last bits of memories, feel good trinkets, and bitter sweet sounds.

I am grateful for all that has lead me to here and now, and for that misty morning breeze that promises of colder days, and cleansing rain. Two days away from September? Heart is already joyful! 

There are still mornings when I open my bedroom door and look at the floor and imagine how things would've been if cat was here; the excitement for the morning sun, the balcony, the birds, the privilege of access to the forbidden corners, the morning cuddles, the kneading, the purring. I'm convinced the thinking of cat is much more rewarding and hassle-free than cat herself. Life is strange, and beautiful in its own way. 

I'm trying to no avail recalling how the first morning after our move felt like, people, events, details are missing from my memory, save from one very striking incident, on the second night of being here. It was a heartbreak, a new one, of a new kind too, by a friend, a close one. Did it really take me a whole year to finally come to terms with how to truly treat mistreatments, judge misjudgments, stop, refuse, reject, return to sender intentional harm? 

Yes, and it could have taken me much longer too, and I could have (might have still) lead a rather naiive existence, believing like an innocent little child that love would prevail in the end always. 

If this year has taught me anything, it would be to the lesson of never losing touch with the reality of people, which is very different than mine. Never forget that good and evil, which concept I was never truly accepting of, is indeed embedded in everything humans see, touch, say and do.  

I remain to lead a life that stems, and root for, the light, but now I know to be wary of the dark, for it has consumed so many people, and what's worse yet, is that they have forgotten about it even happening at the first place. 

"If you want to change the world . . . love a woman — really love her.

Find the one who calls to your soul, who doesn’t make sense.

Throw away your check list and put your ear to her heart and listen.

Hear the names, the prayers, the songs of every living thing —

every winged one, every furry and scaled one,

every underground and underwater one, every green and flowering one,

every not yet born and dying one . . . 

Hear their melancholy praises back to the One who gave them life.

If you haven’t heard your own name yet, you haven’t listened long enough.

If your eyes aren’t filled with tears, if you aren’t bowing at her feet,

you haven’t ever grieved having almost lost her.

If you want to change the world . . . love a woman — one woman

beyond yourself, beyond desire and reason,

beyond your male preferences for youth, beauty and variety

and all your superficial concepts of freedom.

We have given ourselves so many choices

we have forgotten that true liberation

comes from standing in the middle of the soul’s fire

and burning through our resistance to Love.

There is only one Goddess.

Look into Her eyes and see-really see

if she is the one to bring the axe to your head.

If not, walk away. Right now.

Don’t waste time “trying.”

Know that your decision has nothing to do with her

because ultimately it’s not with who,

but when we choose to surrender.

If you want to change the world . . . love a woman.

Love her for life — beyond your fear of death,

beyond your fear of being manipulated

by the Mother inside your head.

Don’t tell her you’re willing to die for her.

Say you’re willing to LIVE with her,

plant trees with her and watch them grow.

Be her hero by telling her how beautiful she is in her vulnerable majesty,

by helping her to remember every day that she IS Goddess

through your adoration and devotion.

If you want to change the world . . . love a woman

in all her faces, through all her seasons

and she will heal you of your double-mindedness and half-heartedness

which keeps your Spirit and body separate — which keeps you alone and always looking outside your Self for something to make your life worth living.

There will always be another woman.

Soon the new shiny one will become the old dull one

and you’ll grow restless again, trading in women like cars,

trading in the Goddess for the latest object of your desire.

Man doesn’t need any more choices.

What man needs is Woman, the Way of the Feminine,

of Patience and Compassion, non-seeking, non-doing,

of breathing in one place and sinking deep intertwining roots

strong enough to hold the Earth together

while she shakes off the cement and steel from her skin.

If you want to change the world . . . love a woman — just one woman.

Love and protect her as if she is the last holy vessel.

Love her through her fear of abandonment

which she has been holding for all of humanity.

No, the wound is not hers to heal alone.

No, she is not weak in her codependence.

If you want to change the world . . . love a woman

all the way through

until she believes you,

until her instincts, her visions, her voice, her art, her passion,

her wildness have returned to her — until she is a force of love more powerful

than all the political media demons who seek to devalue and destroy her.

If you want to change the world,

lay down your causes, your guns and protest signs.

Lay down your inner war, your righteous anger

and love a woman . . . 

beyond all of your striving for greatness,

beyond your tenacious quest for enlightenment.

The holy grail stands before you

if you would only take her in your arms

and let go of searching for something beyond this intimacy.

What if peace is a dream which can only be re-membered

through the heart of Woman?

What if a man’s love for Woman, the Way of the Feminine

is the key to opening Her heart?

If you want to change the world . . . love a woman

to the depths of your shadow,

to the highest reaches of your Being,

back to the Garden where you first met her,

to the gateway of the rainbow realm

where you walk through together as Light as One,

to the point of no return,

to the ends and the beginning of a new Earth."

 ~ Lisa Citore. 

Scared, saddened

Another day on this cursed land, my heart is heavy with so much pain for the people. A tragedy after the other, a roller-coaster of bad events that doesn't seem to be slowing down any time soon.

This is the land of no man, because men would've stopped this madness, men would've stood up for themselves and the weak, mean would've fought for the vulnerable, and spoke up!

Light has forsaken this patch of earth. Evil in many different forms and shapes keeps creeping up on the people.

It's a country that has forgotten what it means and entails to be human!

I'm scared and saddened, and preparing myself for the worst that is yet to come. 

A curse

Our country is drowning and fading into total darkness, while our men watch, silent, idly.

I'm forced to remember similar days around the wars and afterwardw, and I can't help but to remember father's composure, resilience, actions... Mostly his actions, during the war. What a man, a hero, a legacy. I was young and naive, grew up thinking men are like that... In a sense, I'm glad he's not around to see these jokes of men, tearing our country apart. 

I could never fathom when and how it started, this stagnation sickness, creeping up on our people, eating their souls away. Their hearts are cold and hard, their minds vacant...

What nightmare is this, what days, what times!

What a hell of a cursed land this is. 

Melting

Could you hold my face between your hands? I wish to bury my head in your lap. Please play with my wet hair, its a hard week, I need to cry.

Would you hold my hand, maybe squeeze a little? In fact, why don't you place both hands on my face, I need soothing, and warmth.

Please whisper to me nice little things, like the dreams I see you in, and the hopes of childhood, and my father's face.

Would you feed me please? I'm hungry, I need nourishing, and nurturing. Not the emotional kind of eating, but the one where you carefully and lovingly cook nature into a hearty meal, I need to eat your energy, your intention, your love. 

Please, please forgive my emotional state, I'm weak today, it's a hard week, but autumn is near, I promise to flourish again. 

I long for the light rain sounds, and your breathing. 

Can we go to bed soon? I need the sound of your snoring, like a baby needs a lullaby. 

Can you crush me inside your chest please? I've been too big for too long, make me small and little again, I miss us. 

I love us. You found me. What were the chances?! 

I'm hallucinating, maybe I have a fever, or maybe that's just the heat. 

Love me in August please, it's when I need it the most. 

Promise to make it up to you in the winter days, I turn 41... I still feel like I'm 1. 

Hold me and never let me go, for now, for a little, for as much as it's comfortable. 

i love You. 

Full sun

Daughter doesn't like it when I use the term "full sun". She's adament it's only ever just full moon, there is no such a thing as full sun. I explain to her in vain what it means to me when I use such expressions, and that we can use words and combinations of them to express anything at all. Language and communicating my thoughts, feelings and ideas are crucial to me, but the world doesn't care much about them, or me. 

I keep leading a very intense existence through this 2021, without being able to commit to posting daily like I said I would back in January, and boy do I miss the high spirits of that time of the year! 

These days, full sun is having its toll on me. It feels as though my mind is melting in the heat, but what concerns me the most, is my heart. Heart keeps expanding wanting to explode with love and everything grace and empathy and compassion and care, all year round, year in, year out. This crazy little thing in the center of my body is pulling all the threads in my life, dictating how naive I come across to some, good-hearted to others, soft and easy to some, and mere crazy to others. It is indeed crazy to lead a life with such fire within, continuously burning, warming, igniting, only just to go to waste. 

The most truest thing to say today would be that I feel as though my whole existence is going to waste. This is the very reason of my feeling depleted, depressed, saddened, angry. I have been feeling like this most of my life, often times confusing it for some sort of chemicals imbalance in my system! The imbalance is coming from the extremes, being too warm / hot, in an environment that is way too cold. 

I met with few different people recently, I made new friendship, let's see how long it would last before all pretenses come down. I met with old friends too, they drain my very soul, but what can I do but try and be out in the world once in a while, for fear of losing my mind totally. 

The most sweetest are the starved ones, they put effort, they show emotions, they reveal their truest thoughts, they share their ideal scenarios, dreams, intentions, and their hopes. If it comes with pride, it's even more luscious; the opening up is tasty, the resisting is alluring and enticing. Don't I know this type the most? Aren't I one? A pride starved mama bear alpha wolf woman damsel in distress? 

I'm holding my heart and carrying it through these most intense summer days, I'm praying for pain free nights, I'm counting the days for autumn, I'm longing for winter, I will come a full circle soon, and I hope I would have salvaged some dignity this time around, breaking a vicious circle, I broke a good few this year so far, more about that in another post. 

Matters of the heart / break the spell

I was born with a hole in my heart. 
I had jaundice at birth.
As an infant, I was admitted to the hospital frequently.
As a child, I had problems with the valves, and I ended up seeing doctors frequently, being in hospitals almost regularly, often poked around for all sorts of tests, having needles and whatnot injected in my system.

At the start of each scholar year, I would hand in a report from the doctor to school stating that I can not participate in any physical education activity. 
There was a period in my life where I had to go to a nurse living in the neighborhood, to get my regular injections. My mother wouldn't give it to me herself, although she worked as a nurse at one point in her life and she's well capable of doing it. I can't begin to explain just how painful all of this has been, on a soul level, but I accepted it all gracefully. She is mother, and I loved her. 

I would faint at stressful events, stressful events often meant a crowd of people... I remember my older brother frequently being the one jumping in to take me to the doctor or hospital.
When I turned nine years old, echo scanning came to the picture, it was bad. I had been so used to the heart tests by then, but the echo meant they applied a very thick gel to my bare chest, and I have started to become so shy and conscious of my growing body. And then there was this hard hand held tool, pressing it against my chest, sliding it too through the gel, so that they could see the heart state on the screen. It was very uncomfortable and invasive. I used to cringe, feel violated, and needed prolonged hours of comfort. In my head, it was a game we were all playing. That was not what was needed truly, for my heart to settle, but I played along, what else was there to do, I was only a child.

My heart was fine really, I could feel it overflowing with love, it was just not the case with the world, and I became lost. Abundance seemed to be illness, and scarcity normal. 

I learned how to shift the sail on this journey, soon after 
My first husband's name means "heart", he's the most heartless person I have ever encountered. 
Life is funny this way.

So much so, that when a supposedly very dear friend replied to one of my statements regarding a very important topic to me with "matters of the heart are luxury", I knew this was another joke of life. Him from all the people knows just how much I'm made from love, how that making has made me go through everything I went through. He was an eye witness to how someone can suffer from loving too much...

Matters of the heart are essential. 

Love is essential.

(to be continued...) 

Trojan horse

The truest thing to write today would be the saddest. 
Must I resist the sadness still, after a lifetime of grief?
It was born with me, or I with it, and the unfolding of life's miseries, tragedies and "misfortunes" are but a mere icing on top. 
My most purest essence feels orphaned, long before I lost my parents, very short after I was birthed. People come in and out of my life, and sometimes I am more diligent in fine tuning my choices and going through my keeps than others. Sometimes people are treasures, and other times Trojan horses. 
In order to remember my essence, I had to forgo doing all I have been doing in my lifetime as an adult. I am a pure being, with less resisting, and more openness to the flow, I allow everyone and I everything to just happen and exist, and I pick and choose what I allow close to me, and I go where I'm naturally pulled. 
An orphan, though smart and diligent, is prone to being manipulated. An orphan does not have a backbone, a safety net, a support system and so be default is a very vulnerable target, and niche. 

The truest thing to say today would be that I was never loved truly. The pain that I have always felt towards people parting was the non existent interest in homing me, in me, with me, instead finding solace for their many pains, imperfections, scarcity, lack of... whatever they lack of. And that perhaps the attraction was always one of interest, of what could be gained, and doesn't my looks show it? the openness, the extra weight, the softness. People started to call me cute lately, what the hell is happening? Me is not cute, me is hardy and serious and solid, but perhaps being too tired after this rollercoster of the last 3 years, is starting to give me away. Cute is appealing, cute is dangerous, very dangerous, but what's more dangerous, is just how clear it gives people away too, using it. 

The truest thing to say today would be that I carry my home with me wherever I am, it is a heart filled existence and it eminates warmth and is inviting, and though I housed a lot in it, I am now beyond tired, for this house needs cleaning and cleansing, and there is pain in an empty house, because of many things, but maybe only just solely, simply because, I was just born this way. 

The saddest thing to say today is that I am ready to leave life, should a destined accident happen, a failure in body organs, or a mere coinsidence, and the saddest thing to write better yet, is that chances are I would be burried by the very people I lived my life avoiding, for lack of authenticity and honor. Only one thing remains solid to sum up my existence up till now, the love I have for my father, and him for me, and I miss the life when he was around, though he would leave me lead my own life, his mere presence worked as an achor, and ever since he left, I seem to be floating, and often times drowning. 

I need a big gasp of air, and proper rest. 

The truest thing to write today would be that I am lost, and though I am sometimes found, I lose myself in the very finding, for I do not know how to lead a life feeling contained, safe. The saddest thing is that the truth is ugly, cold and bare, and that people don't care for people, nor know the love language, or its essence, purpose, and ways. 

A lost, starved orphan is dangerous to him/herself.
I feel danger, 
I must escape, 
but I am beyond tired, and a hard, weighty pull towards the bottom may feel like an anchor, and I could stay a little longer in this delusion that resembles safety, that reminds of me of Him, and the warmth and the belonging. 

The truest and saddest thing to write today is: Papi, I miss you, I am lost. 

To write again, truly

The aspect of me that connects with the man in my life is missing. Perhaps I need to integrate that part of myself again, connect with it, listen to it, get to know it all over again. There usually is softness, ease, flow, and I haven't been any of those in a really long while. I've met so many people in those almost 3 years since the separation with Chris, but I haven't been with a man I could match with, on a relationship level. It's being extremely hard to get myself to acknowledge certain truths, let alone talk about it, but I grew so tired from pretending, pushing, empowering, distracting myself, and getting sidetracked. Tired too from resisting the sun, the sun is good, so is the light, just like the truth. 

I took me a good few hours to get myself to write this post, and I hope I will keep it. It's about time I write in the way I need to exist; raw.

I'm unable to tell the reasons for my hesitation, all those months and years, but I sense fear. I must delve more into that soon, so that I can remove these obstacles and allow the flow.

I'm often embarrassed of feeling too much, it has always caused me troubles, but then again, avoiding living my truth has resulted in me being utterly and hopelessly numb. 

I will start to write more often, not necessarily regularly, but as often as I possibly can. I will write as open, as mundane, as eloquent, as deep, or shallow as I could, I will not apply any judgments anymore in how things should be expressed, how they come out, how they might be perceived. and I shan't worry myself with how I am being perceived. 

The essence here is to live my essence, everything else will just fall into place. 

I've wasted so much time already. 

In a typical Chris manner when he used to encourage me to do something that might sound or look reckless, which would be exactly what I needed to do: 

"Let's do this shit, baby!"

Ocean of Possibilities

 I discovered Estas Tonne, I'm hooked. 

Watching and listening to him play is doing beautiful things to my mind. 

My heart is aching though, my soul is troubled. 

Summers are always so very tiring... I'm exhausted, beyond words. 

I need a cocoon, comfort, blankets, and softies. 

I need soft everything, for a little while anyway. 

I've been everywhere, doing everything. I need to pause, but the sun won't let me, summer days and nights are extreme. I need a little break from extreme everything, including my very own existence!

You know what happens when your only way of being is through forced resilience, out of a survival mode strategy? You lose touch with what you truly like / want / need. I've forgotten how to be at rest with things, situations, myself. 

Though I'm not doing much today, my core is restless. My inner voice is screaming madly at me, it wants out, it wants to be seen, mirrored, touched. 

Today I am sad. Being a full time mother can be crippling, and running a business even more so, and being all those things for all so many people is oh so draining!

I need Estas Tonne, like my need for breath of fresh air, and the end of summer. 

A vast universe

I could write this entry in a hundred different ways. 

I could write about the person I have in mind, I could write about encounters, perceptions, experiences, insights. 

Better yet, I could write about potentials. 

I could write about crying, over the past. 

I could cry too, I often do. 

But I will not. 

This post is about everything that I can not write about. 

There has been a massive expansion inside my chest and being. I couldn't, even if I tried, to put that into words; my writing skills and vocabulary haven't expanded as much. 

For a long while now, there has been plenty of new little sprouts and growth inside my being, I wasn't able to catch up with the documenting of it. 

I'm holding a vast universe within me, it keeps expanding, and my heart can't help but to crumble, cry and surrender at the beauty of its very existence. 

Sometimes too I fear it exploding, or I. 

I wouldn't want for so much beauty to disappear, but I'm surrendering to the notion if it all coming back again, like the mysterious ways of this whole existence. 

I am crying now. 

I often cry. 

But this post isn't about me, nor my tears, nor my perception or experience. 

It is about that magic which has decided to visit and stay a while inside of my chest. 

A vast universe indeed.