~Cultivating Life~

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Evening Compline~





Perched high above the hum of the city, nestled in this castellar fortress. Among the trees, a wind whispers. The birds sing their farewells to February, and watch among the branches as the world whirls by below.

She looks up wistfully, her breath catches at the haunting halation captured as the sun slips into the shadows—the brilliant last light too beautiful to be caught and held more than a moment—she lets it go with grace, and follows its fading gleam—past the charnel, with its costly carcelage.---Away from the angry glare of lights too bright….burning her blue eyes---stinging her salt-water streaked cheek.

Rung by rung, she climbs…ascending up---away. Higher and higher she goes…each new step birthing a hope and prayer for a shining, chimerical sign—a sign of peace—a promise of provision—a reconciliation of hearts—a healing.

Arriving at the apex of this fairy dell in the sky, a ceremony of chasmogamy is born. And, in the moonlit gloaming, with each petal’s preening—reaching ravenously among the stars—petitioning the Maker for that manna from above, this flower’s compline commences.

And there is sustenance in the twilight—as the morning makes its bed to rest, and rise again~

Sunday, February 26, 2012

White Lightning!


After what seems like a month of mornings marked by question after question... after question …I woke today with an entirely new set of inquiries:

1) How do I take my coffee?

"I’ll take my coffee poolside, thank you."

2) Who will now wake me with a kiss?

"The estate’s resident spaniel’s smooch is unabashedly offered on the daily (provided I, in turn, barter with a promise of abundant hugs and cuddles throughout the day)."

3) Who/what can I be totally immersed into now?

"That sparkling pool peeking just outside my balcony beckons…"

4) And the stroke of preference today?

"FREEStyle, naturally"~

5) When one finds oneself alone, on a Hollywood Hills estate, in a private pool…what DOES one do?

"BLIND THOSE BIRDS WITH A STREAKIN’ FLASH OF UNFETTERED FAIRY FREESTYLE…" *bringing new meaning to the term: white lightning~

6) And the soundtrack for this skinny dippin’ sesh?

"Praise songs….all day long~"

After almost a month of endless questions….I am finding some answers…and they aren’t half bad~

Thursday, February 23, 2012

The Golden State~


I ran away from home today….

I’ll not stay…

I just need some time.

An ocean in between…

Some moments to pray…

A forum to play…

*So I’m Headin’ to that Golden State…..

Gonna put on that party dress.

Break out those dancin’ shoes.

Listen to some live music.

Walk in the wine country (like sample?)

Drive with the top down.

Bike down the boardwalk.

Venture into Venice, just to see what I see.

Swim in the sun-dappled pool outside my front door.

Wander around that writing world.

And reconnect with those who first saw me sparkle and shine.

Making peace with a past long pushed aside, City of Angels…I’d like to re-introduce myself.

So nice to see you see me again.

What you got, maw ma?

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Reading by Fire Light~


I believe in love. And yes, I believe in monogamy.

Call me a prude….old-fashioned…behind the times…I joyously accept all of these if it means a lifetime shared in the constancy of one, good, solid companion.

I believe in the sanctity of husband and wife…that it is a beautiful—and not binding bond, and that the sacredness of intimacy with one is not a limiting trap---but rather makes us limitless in the safety and trust of that one person….caught and held securely in the cushion of commitment—the comfort and peace of knowing….knowing….knowing…you will never walk alone.

I understand now why it is likened to Christ and His love for the church. The give and take that feels nothing like tug of war. The sweet sacrifice—that because it is not abused---does not return void, will not leave one depleted, and is never wasted. The solace offered through stability--of something so sacred that, no matter what arises in the day….or descends upon us in the night….holds steady…remains true….and chooses unwavering gratitude for the gift of one another, and fierce faithfulness.

I realize now this dream---this glorious vision of purity, passion and growing in grace and peace together as one---is only possible if God is fueling the fire. Otherwise, the flames are beautiful to behold….they will keep you warm enough to lull you to sleep—and in your waking dreams you will get a small, shifting sense of sweetness in the smoke….and, as the embers glow…and the flames fade….you are left with smoldering ash.

I have been fanning a similar fire, loving its warmth, believing in its beauty, and now, as I look at the embers…I fall to my knees…curling my tiny body as close to the glorious glow as I can, and beg for more warmth….praying for renewal of the flame….searching in vain for a match that would rekindle its radiance…and denying in my heart of hearts that this fire…this flame…this beautiful warmth—is a bastard child—no father laying claim to it—for never did it ask for His name.

I made this fire with the one I love. Yet I forgot to invite the One I most love (or should have) to help us along the way…to show us how to light it, and fan its flames to where it will stay strong, provide warmth that lasts, and light that illuminates our lives. I still pray for redemption—of myself, of the one I love—and yes, of that fire that could be so beautifully built between…..yet I know now, today, who must light and sustain it….and why it is so~

Today, as everyday, I pray for miracles….with an open hand I free those I love to choose their path….and I follow the only path I know as true, and good, and lovely~

Sunday, February 19, 2012

As Capulet Commands~


As Capulet once commanded---directing his daughter, from that orchard across the ocean...

Just call me Juliet~

Friday, February 17, 2012

State of Being~


When you feel the rug has been pulled out from under you….and the role that you saw yourself fulfilling in life has been cast to another…it is a strange state to find yourself in. I liken it to Kansas, or perhaps Nebraska? A state that in and of itself would not be the worst place in the world…had you not been born in say, Hawaii—or the rolling, wine country of California.

Yes, here I am….in Kansas….its arid air and flat roads stretching before me---with nothing but miles and miles of fields on either side. It is hard to not loathe these lonely lands….I never did like corn, and dust makes me cry--often. I prefer my ocean and beaches…the warm sun on my face…the salty air upon my cheek…and endless stretches of sand to curl my toes into—wriggling away my worries with each fairy step.

I believe the hardest part, is that I still feel very much a citizen of my former state…I do not believe this alien status I am now presently experiencing is my true destiny. I do not belong here…yet, hereI AM.

I look around me, no lion in sight…Aslan himself even seems absent, save a whisper in the wind of a love once warm upon my skin—I wrap the threadbare throw ‘round my once soft shoulders…careful not to pick the fraying fabric on the blades' jagged edges. This fairy…I must remind myself is fragile, yet fierce. And faithful….how faithful is she now…as she will remain…unwavering.

This state has new laws….which she will abide…yet she knows…back in her world—reverberating with every fervent beat of her foreign-born heart—her truth must pulse and pound with veritas--channeling its energies into goodness abounding. And, although she does not recognize many things these days…she does know one thing, she remembers it well---this, her offering…

Words, ruminating on a page---perched precariously in pregnant pauses—building a blessed bridge between the present__________the promise~

Monday, February 13, 2012

~Red, Revisited~


Because…so much does depend on one simple pair of scissors, and a tiny tube of goo.

And, yes, because this fairy knew deep within her bones, there was great need for a renewed declaration of independence (from expectations), a peace treaty (with herself), and a pint-sized middle finger raised~

Rockin' the red.

*Woo Woo*~

Saturday, February 11, 2012

Cardiac Rehab~


I remember when I was growing up in our small, Southern town, the local YMCA would have this group exercise class called “Cardiac Rehab.” It, as the name would be fitting, was geared specifically towards those who had had some serious, life-threatening health event occur such as a heart attack or stroke, that had left them in need of gentle, muscle (in this case the heart), strength and endurance building. 99% of this crew consisted of what I (so diplomatically at my mature 15 years of age) termed “old farts” and “Gerries.”

I remember distinctly, as I ran my laps around the second-floor, indoor track—looking down and taking in this scene (what looked to me more like torture) with horror---and also a healthy dose of pity. All my youth-lidded teenage eyes could see was sagging skin, slow-motion, and staggering towards an unseen goal that will never ever put them back quite exactly at their same status—their lives had all irrevocably slowed….stalled even.

This thought made me shudder, and I would look away and will myself to pretend that these damaged vessels were not there in my existence—that all there was in my world was motion—power—sprinting with strong legs and a kick that caused my heart to burst with effusive energy--bubbling over with such gratitude that I was at my prime---unblemished--and on my way…never looking back on those unspoken of underlings.

Today, I have a new perspective….such a dramatically different awareness. I'd like to go back to that small, Southern town, and survey these citizens with new eyes. And that is who they are---citizens…of a unified country—a small, circle of friends, bound together by an unbreakable bond forged in battle. Their hearts have taken a hit—their lives will never be the same. Everything they do now, has to take into account their condition(s).

I believe I would see them facing their frustration, as they cycle with slow, pained circles…round-a-bout they go…remembering when they moved so freely—yet not allowing themselves to give up…rather giving themselves the grace to go at their own pace….rebuilding. I believe I would also see the friendships forged over fellowship together—tried by fire, this fellowship flows from souls sojourneying quite possibly the most scary and difficult path they will ever be asked to tread. They go~

Yes, I am sure---the sagging skin, the slow-motion, and the stilted progression will still shock me in unguarded moments…yet I believe I won’t turn away this time. I will look up and see those sprinters looking down on me with such disgust….and I will know I am beautiful…and that their shudders signify their small minds—simple worlds—and still yet to be discovered awarenesses of life happening…and all that it entails. I will gaze on my own wrinkled war-ravaged body, and will speak to it tenderly—willing it to go at its own pace—and remind it that it is not as it once was—but it is getting stronger everyday.

This morning, my Cardiac Rehab consists of good, strong coffee, the crashing cadence of winter waves, a sandy stretch of beach beckoning just outside my door, and prayers petitioned from a tiny island in the Pacific. Heal, heart. Heal.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Vroom Vroom~


Never one to do anything halfway, I am heading out today---on an adventure.

I was given the helpful advice by a loved one yesterday to simply: “Get Back In The Saddle,” and, well…why I am not exactly sure this is the particular “saddle” they were meaning…

I am taking that advice—and letting the chips fall where they may:

*** Motorcycle Ride 'Round the East Side of the Island? Why the heck not?

Face to the wind...messy hair….jeans and a tank top---scared to death (but holdin’ on tight and doin’ it anyway)....


**** VROOOM VROOOOM, ya'll~

Monday, February 6, 2012

Night Lite~


Nights are the hardest. The bright and brilliant sun—long a healing companion of mine—has retired, and darkness has set in. The moon is beautiful, yes….yet, somehow I do not feel its kiss as kind upon my brow. Something is lacking in its milky glow—the warmth that envelops during the day, just can’t be recreated beneath this silky shadow.

Yes, it’s the nights, when the rhythm and flow of the day’s busyness has come to an end….and there, after that sweet, gentle sunset….that shrill, silent stillness lies in wait.

I make my dinner--lately there always seems too much of it…pleased with so little these days--my appetite is not what it once was. Sharing was always more my style—there was no waste with you. Something about giving you what was “mine”---made me smile—watching as you gratefully devoured my often eschewed dessert---something in the knowing that I had saved the sweetest part--for you. I—with such joy—gave you my best—my portion~

I can’t quite remember what filled the nights so well—we never were really complicated people. Simple things—I suppose—hearing about the day—reveling in triumphs—encouraging in disappointments---laughing at others’ ridiculousness (and most often at our own)—listening to the waves break as life ebbed and flowed about us—softly and gently…we passed the days.

I find myself still reaching for the phone—I want to hear about your day—cheer you on—remind you that are loved—that you are capable of all things good—and that I am here, and always will be. White knuckled, I clasp the receiver—and wait.

I am waiting---waiting for the right of way. Waiting for His blessing. Waiting for beauty and redemption of ravished bodies---hollowed out hearts---and healed hands that will reach for the righteousness of what could be—so perfect--so pure—and all the while—I have held the line---praying for my pardon. Because the heart wants what the heart wants….and love is no respecter of persons.

Yes. Nights are the hardest. I long to be held. And all the scriptures in the world can reassure me that I am right in the safety of His arms, but this Mary Magdalene mourns the comfort of care from another…crushed in the encompassing weight of human form—warm breath washing over me---and audible words of “eternal” assurance.

Mo(u)rning now. I wake with the sun---read the words from the Book that has brought me thus far—gaze at the font with my frail frame and finite eyes—assuring me—I AM His delight: My new portion, shared~

“The LORD thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy; he will rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing.”