Say What~

Just yesterday I got an opportunity to meet a friend in Maui, all expenses paid. * Ask me if I took the offer?* (Duh!) I packed my backpack, then proceeded to coax and cajole my battered bug along the Kamehameha Highway…heart excited and bent towards the promise of a fun-packed, carefree weekend getaway. I arrived and met my friend.

Memory lane was traversed….in actuality, it seems more like ‘skipping’ would describe our chosen state of mind/ mode of transportation into the path of our pasts. The short, inter-island flight literally (and figuratively) flew by as we caught one another up on present day shenanigans and what-nots.

I soon realized, however, that underneath this peaceful and poised exterior, there lied a pained and bleeding spirit. After several hours of conversation *and just as many (okay, if not more) glasses of wine,* I had heard the full story. I had gone over in minute detail the plot that pained my friend so much. I felt I had met them there, had practically memorized the sorrow-filled script that had brought them to the islands in search of an escape.

My initial instinct when I see friends in pain is to want to fix it…to make that pain stop…to obliterate any hardship and suffering from their entire sphere of being. Yet I remembered something that a friend had shared with me in my past emotional purgatories. I remember I was in the middle of a breakdown * tears, Kleenex, runny nose, asthmatic wheezing, blithering…(you get the picture)*. I mean, I was really going at it, letting myself ‘speak truth’, allowing free reign to fully ‘FEEL these feelings’ and giving myself permission to ‘release them’ * oh, with gusto! * As I looked up, naively expectant of being greeted with sighs of sympathy, a heart melted, and a compassionate countenance, I was instead met with a fixed, expressionless stare (straight through the core of me did her eyes slice,) and a bold, monotone: “Well, that does suck Andy…SO NOW WHAT?”

As this flashback reverberated in my brain, the remembrance of its healing (albeit shocking) quality (and my reluctant acceptance of this reality of responsibility to move towards positive action) bolstered me towards my own brash move…

I repeated this same question to my friend. The scene played out in response was eerily familiar. I received the same shocked silence....followed by that momentary mulling of the mind (I imagined a spout of steam tufting through earlobes as I waited)…the sharp intake of breath (I believe as the pain of hearing hard truth is processed and compartmentalized)…the exhale of realization/ resignation/ acceptance of the reality that is…and then…then… the eyes raised to meet my gaze (as if my own mirror). To meet me here (wherever “here” is)…to look that daunting question square in the eye:

So.

Now.

What?

We don’t usually know right away. I sure as hell don’t have the answers…but I do know that there is always room for this question…with every breath…in every moment…a challenge for growth, a spur towards change… a catalyst championing forward motion.

I head home today, back to the life I love. I am happy and hopeful…yet have a newfound awareness….

I am responsible.

I go now...the next what awaits~

Changing Room~

It has been one month now since I have returned home from what most have dubbed my “journey round the world”. It is an eerie feeling to return home after being gone…to purpose oneself towards reassimilation---towards reintegration into what is actually YOUR world. It feels strange. It feels surreal. And (of course, in any transitional process I seem to encounter of late) it feels SCARY.

I find myself pushing; rushing towards an idealistic return of yesterday’s sentiments, cherished friendships, and familiar feelings—when in reality, I wonder if I mightn’t just relax and receive a welcoming today? Yes, I know, I think too much….and I might also * perhaps * analyze things to death, or at least until there is no outwardly visible semblance of breath left within my imagination’s mind *it having been running wild all day most likely *. However, with thought comes contemplation….and, hopefully, such contemplation creates change.

Change. I shudder at the mere word. Shivers run down my spine at the thought of the unkown arriving at my doorstep—uninvited—unannounced—and most assuredly unfamiliar to my acquaintance. Most of my life, this is how I have viewed change. A scary, unwelcome visitor crashing in (uninvited I might add) upon my peaceful, domestic bliss—disrupting my everyday routine—and in doing so, rocking my little boat as it was merrily rowing along life’s (predictable) dreaminess.

Since I have been home, and have found it to be (although not necessarily tangibly changed) different than what I had maybe expected to see, feel, and even “be”—I am attempting to approach this whole idea of change with (if not a warm, fuzzy welcome) at least a reception not including a necklace of garlic, or a silver crucifix.

I came home early. I had had enough of world traveling and foreign seeking. It is good to be home. I do not desire to be anywhere else in the world but here. Yet, in my heart, there is something I cannot quite place. A feeling. Not regret, no, definitely not that. Not quite resignation (for I am too happy to be here for that description to hold true).

Restlessness? Ah, yes. That must be it. Restless with home? No. Restless with myself? My life? My circumstances? –A startling, first-time-ever answer of “NOPE!” shocks even me to utter—but no. I know it to be a restlessness WITHIN the change. DURING the change. Minutes, to days, to weeks, to one month now….of transition. Today, as each day before, I am pursuing the peace within the process.

Most days, like today, this peace finds me--holds my shaking hands, and quiets my quivering heart.

Other days, it seems to shun me, and I am left feeling cold, unsteady and unsure.

Every day, I know I will be a part of this process whether I like it or not…so today (as I pray each day to come) I choose to engage…to face forward…to stand rather than cower…and to trust…understanding as I do now, that peace is not always palpable~

Waken to Sunrise~

Although this is based alot on my personal experience...I imagine all you Adams and Eves out there...you lions and fairies...males and females alike, have all felt as I have; looking into the future and the unknown, and trembled...I hope you feel not so alone after reading this, and are somehow blessed and encouraged~

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Lions in winter,

Hawaii sun sells summer.

Remember Springtime~

You Fairies in flight,

Europe's moon whispers "Autumn,"

Remember Springtime~

Lions, you charge them!

Those waves of worry; self-doubt.

Our Mother, Reveals~

Fairies, you fly them!

Sunshine and rainbow-filled skies.

Our Mother, Reveals~

For strength and vigor,

Look, Lions, when you feel weak,

Our Father, He heals~

For peace and courage,

See, Fairies, the clouds clearing.

Our Father, He heals~

As evening tides rise,

Listen, Lions; Love lingers.

Waken to sunrise~

Through thunderous nights,

Hear, Fairies; joyful singing.

Waken to sunrise~

Selah~

At Second Glance~

I woke up this morning and looked out my window. It was cloudy, rainy and windy on the North Shore. Boo….big Boo. So, I did what I do best…ran AWAY from the darkness and ick!!! Ran far, far away * okay, DROVE far away .* I decided I would drive and not stop until the sun shone again…which, if you live in Hawaii, you know isn’t too difficult to find. My wheels rolled towards the rhythm of the seas…finally making their way to Waikiki. And, ahh, the sun was resplendent! People were out in full force, thoroughly enjoying the day. Good call, AB, good call.

I knew I should write an entry today, yet I have a rule with myself that I can’t write anything I don’t FEEL—or that is really authentically tugging on my heart or mind. And as of 8-friggin’-AM this morning…not much of ANYTHING was I “feeling” to write about J So….I decided to take a run, praying that along the way something would speak to me (this tactic has never ever failed me , by the way…life just seems to happen and inspire when given enough time and room).

No, it never fails. I was running along the path in this amazing park right on the water. It is a popular venue, making it a fantastic place to people watch. As good as any airport I have ever been in, hands down.

As I ran, I noticed a familiar sight…or familiar event(s), I should say—Wedding Photo-Paloosa! Everywhere I looked, it seemed, there were blushing brides and glowing grooms! To the right, to the left, flanked on all sides—by frills! The lace, the bouquets, the tiaras, the satin, the bows, the chiffon, the BLING!

A smorgasbord of sensory overload….the blinding white garments glistening in the sun as the photographer extracts every emotional image possible from the cooing couple. * Click, click, smile, laugh, GAZE--oh GAZE!-- into each others’ eyes* --and repeat.

One might think that, after every single day (and on every single jog) of being (what some would call) ”bombarded” with adoring couples left and right…that I would be desensitized to any emotional response by now….yet I am not. Like clockwork, every day, and with each couple I come across, DAMNIT!, I can’t help myself but to smile, slow my pace, and breathe it in.

Yes, breathe it in…but what is this “it” I ask myself? Is it love? * swoon*…no, not exactly, for my common sense and logic sadly reminds me that, despite my romantic feminine heart, two out of four of these couples (at least) will not even make it to their second wedding anniversary. So, no, it’s not love that I am smitten with here.

So, then, again I ask: “What is ‘it?’’ I look again at the sun-kissed smiles. I strain my ears to hear the lilting laughter, making its way to me across the sky, as if floating on fairies wings. I look again…and I see all the tangible sights; hear the audible sounds; but I feel and know… HOPE. I look around me at these couples, gazing into each others’ eyes…adoringly clasped in embraces…and know that, to me, it is more than an embrace, far-reaching beyond a shared smile; it is the symbol of what is to come…hope. The hope they have with a brand new beginning. Hope at the idea of a life ahead…together. Hope looking forward to an added chapter of their lives’ books. Hope for a change. Hope for more of the same something that is good and wonderful. Hope for possibilities. Hope for something shared. Hope in belonging. Hope in knowing. Hope in being known..…and it is breathtaking.

Webster’s defines “Hope” as: “a belief in a positive outcome related to events and circumstances in one's life…[..]…the feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best.”

So, yes…I call what I witnessed today hope.

Surprisingly this day’s display of beautiful brides does not particularly produce an intense aching in my soul…nor am I taking away from this jog a picture of love. No…. "bah, bah, rah, mama”… *unlike Lady Gaga, I don’t necessarily want a romance*…But I WILL take some of that hope, please….and thank you~

For This Year, For Life~

January comes

Thinly veiled, frostbitten firsts

of the year, of life.

Twelve chaptered novel,

Tenses shift, Plots ebb, then flow

Not much longer now.

Slow thaw, waking warmth

nudging subtlety of Spring.

renewal, rebirth.

Crocus crowns, good earth.

Fallowed ground, revisited.

For this year, for life~

Fluidity~

A conversation with a friend of mine last night sparked so many things in my heart and mind. We were talking about life and choices. Forks in the road—and atlases hard to decipher (some that are quite possibly meant to be so). My friend was quick to remind me of the perspective that, when adopted in life—causes one to see these things as negative, positive, or merely as “being.” This perspective, as he kept describing it, I recognized as what I now call “the fluidity of life.”

For so long I lived in the future…in “what if’s” and “maybe I shouldn’t s.” I was so concerned over the consequences of my choices. Every little detail of my life needed to be laid out before me…to be figured out in intricate detail. The finality with which I saw facing each decision I ever made is heartbreaking. This year especially, I have come to learn that life is about making many, many choices. Some will be spectacular, and cause such a flow of life and joy and “rightness” to flow fast on their heels. Some will just be recognized as the fitting one. But not all of them will be great—many will be downright idiotic, reckless and yes, even foolhardy (in the light of hindsight, of course). Yet (oh how I love that one small word!)…YET…these decisions will be actively made…issuing forth signs and evidence of investment in myself and the journey…of engaging in life and its ebb and flow…of being a willing and viable participant in the process of pursuit.

There is fluidity to life. I see that now. The world is open. God is available….He gives me choice…He opens doors (plural) and allows me to venture….to journey…to embark. I was scared before…of making a mistake. Now I see fluidity. I will make decisions. I will make them boldly. I will go all out (For the win!)…and I will walk in those decisions, and the light offered by them. I will recognize those that bear fruit--beautiful fragrant sources of sustenance and satiety. And I will see those that are barren…and then I will reassess. And I will live~