Tag: love

My Daughter

So bittersweet, the moment was.
You called for me.
That sweet face, my little baby girl peering out at me with glistening eyes. Mama, I need you.

Earlier, your eyes glinted with exasperation when I offered to help you with your hair. You’re old enough, you don’t need me. You can do it all yourself.

A while later, you caught my eye, I saw your face. You mouthed the words, to come with you. So vulnerable you looked.
I hold your cherished face in my hands. Wiped your shocked and surprised tears. Reassuring tones from my heart to yours. Yes, my sweet, a little piece of childhood is done, but it will be ok.

I feel the little piece of ice pierce my heart.
My baby, my baby. My heart.
Now before me, no longer the child playing with dolls.
But the beginnings of a young lady. We can not go back from here.

You still reach for me. My baby. You are crossing a threshold, we acknowledge together. You squeeze my hand. And thank me, for helping you feel safe, loved and supported. I am grateful that this is how you feel entering this transitional moment. That this is the space we have created together.
I wanted to cry, to lament, please bring back my baby, what if there were things I did not teach, what if I missed important things. How is it over so quick?! How can I guide her when I’m not ready?!

Yet….. My heart swells with pride, this sweet, funny, talented, kind, young lady was growing into her promise as a human. Gracefully, inquisitively, loved.

But my babe you will always be, in the eyes of the woman you will become.

Fae For Show

There was a dark Fae named Aubergine. She had healing magic, the ability to spin a tale or two. Her heart was kind, her soul gentle. The spirits of the Wood could whisper in her ear. She could call the dark or light, depending where balance was needed. Content she was, to be in the trees. To read the stars, to listen to the symphony that the Mother has made. 

She had her admirers, she had her users too. 

He would come, lay his heart at her feet. Shy offerings of love to win her favour. She alighted to him. The house became a home. 

The walls grew thick, the air dry. Her sparkle grew dim, the magic muted. Resigned to grey. But the spark never died.

Air began to blow on the spark. Cradle it she did. The glow became too much to hide. Her wings began to expand.

He looked high and low to find what now must lie at her feet. For he remember then Aubergine, as she glowed, not the grey. What he found at her feet was a reflection. Greys streaked with chains of red. He remembered what he believed was his.

Gilded bars of protection, erected in pride. For all to bare witness. Behold, the wild she. She is mine, no better will it ever be, no love to ever match. 

Behold the wild Fae, how much she is mine. How lucky I am. 

Now at her feet lie the bloody offerings of proof that he, and he alone be the air, water, fire and earth she need. That spirit will be shared. The tales be spun when it is deemed convenient. But if the Wood, and Stars wanted to speak. If the Mother sent messages to build the light. Explained it had to be. Justified. 

Quiet she sits in the castle build for her. Everything she is told she needs. With loving pride, what a good man am I?

She knows, Love is the motivation. Fear is the cause. Her voice lost to the Ether. Airless perfection until it isn’t. What shall happen to the blessed Fae?

why is expression so hard

I have always felt things intensely.
Joy, sorrow, love, pain, even the most mundane of emotions like boredom have a technicolor hue.
I know many people out there, us Empaths/Artists if you will, feel life as intensely as I do.
The gift/curse I have along with that is a love and decent talent for words.

Gift? Because it helps to get the intense feelings out of my head when I can explain them. Even the real good emotions, if not allowed to be expressed fill me up to the point of popping.
Gift? Because I know I have been able to entertain some as well. Sometimes even been blessed with being able to help others find their expression through my own.

Curse?
So easily I am misunderstood. Big, deep intense words get thrown around. Is she crazy? Depressed? She needs help if things are that dark, deep or off the rails. She should not express her feelings of admiration, love or connection so deeply to so many, there must be inappropriate things going on. She’s so angry. She’s too happy. She feels too much for too many.

I struggle. Between being the natural me that can express the orgasmic moment of eating a fresh cherry, how my heart fills at conversation, how kindness can touch my soul, cruelty rips at me.
And the me that feels the need to shrink, loose color so as to not make others uncomfortable, misunderstand or be able to make imaginary things out of what I say or write.

I have been shown both of these things. I have been told my expression as admirable, welcome, anticipated, appreciated.
I have had to face that these same words can be twisted, weaponized, used against me and others. Used to question intent because I express in big, deep colourful and powerful language.

I am me. I mean no harm. I find love and life to have many shades, I will not apologize for that.
I should not have to apologize for what’s in my head, for what I want/need to share. Yet today…….

Today I question. I question how and to whom I share. I question what is heard and interpreted. I feel myself watering down my expression of love for my Village, even though those feelings stay bold. Diluting the descriptions of my experience, I feel like I’m receding,
even though the quote that speaks to me is
‘I must write to empty my head or I shall surely go mad’ – Byron

Why?

Today my thoughts are tossing around various comments and questions I have been asked about what and why I do what I do for others.

Why are you determined to see the best in people? Because I want people to see the best in me.

Why do you try to understand the ‘why’ behind people’s actions? Because I believe seldom are people cruel and mean for no reason. An animal in pain will react in kind. And I think understanding and compassion are a start to healing.

Why do you forgive? Because there have been times in my life that being forgiven for mistakes has made a difference for me. Forgiving lightens my load.
It does not mean forgetting, but if someone truly made a mistake and is trying to move on to something better, forgiveness can be a beautiful starting gift.

Aren’t you worried you get used? Sometimes, I am a fallible human after all. But truthfully for those that take until it seems I have nothing or those that feel entitled with no return, well it’s sad for them. My life is rich in those who love and appreciate me, and over the years it has been proven time and again.

Why do you encourage and support those that you do? I am genuinely inspired by the people I support and encourage. Every single one of them is overcoming their own challenges, bettering, deepening their knowledge of themselves and the world around them. I see into people sometimes, and the potential they have. I just want to see them get there

Am I perfect at this? No

Do I have an agenda? Yes, to learn, about me and how I relate to all of the world around me. How and where I fit and what I can do while I’m here. Helping others on their path also teaches me how to deal with my own monsters, wants and needs.

Do I help everyone? No. I’m more selective than I used to be. One of my lessons. I also try to not force it. And sometimes when I realize someone really does not want, appreciate or need it, I move on. No malice, usually, just a peaceful release.

My Dear Village- I truly appreciate you all, and I hope you appreciate each other. At the end love of self and love of each other is all we have.

Sonorant Thief

Thief!! Thief!! Give it back!!
Give back the peace 
Give back the clarity 
Give back the quiet 

No one invited you here
Your shrill drone, never ending 
Nothing important to say
Digging in, drowning out the rest

Thief!!! Thief!!! Give him back!!
Give back the humour
Give back the patience 
Give back the light

The gifts you’ve brought no one wants 
The rigid pain, lack of sleep 
No focus, giving room for past ghosts 
To wake, recall, aid in your merry terror

Thief!!! Thief!!! Give him back!!!
Leave him be
Leave us alone
No one wants your destruction here.


Finding Forward

Love each other, be kind, be open,
forgive the monsters you can,
battle those you can’t.
Support each other in love
See truth in another’s eyes
Be willing to let go the phantom chains
Step forward, for you- not me, not them,
what anyone else believes or thinks matters not. If you know your self, your heart and your truth- trust, trust someday it will be seen, loved and accepted. Trust that you are, will be and always have been enough

Motivate me please

This morning, while I drink my coffee I am trying to understand motivation. What motivates people to do what they do. Not the lifestyle stuff, eating well, exercise etc, but the motivation to be kind, mindful, or cruel, deceitful, helpful, or harmful.
Is there pleasure derived from being mean? causing harm? creating oppression? disconnection?

I know in nature animals will lash out when they feel threatened or are in pain. Aside from humans (and the occasional cat), very few species cruelly toy with each other for sport.

I think back over my life and all the experiences I have had. For better or worse, it seems to keep me more determined to be kind, thoughtful, engaged to truly see someone, to lend a hand, keep my heart open and to trust. I look at what I can be met with here, often it is joy, connection, creativity, challenge, growth, support. (my village❤️❤️)
But lately, my mission if you will, has lead me to the hard truths that my open heart, excitement, passion for connection, kindness, compassion will be misread, twisted, ignored, or turned back upon me to wound. This creates feelings of stupidity, sadness, and the wounded feel of trust being destroyed. It is here I get the urge, the urge to ‘be like everyone else’……

So what motivates me? To be seen. Not in a glorious, celebrity way, exalted, and worshipped. But to be seen for my heart, the love I offer to all, to be understood, my wounds, scars, how that has shaped me, recognized that I am far from perfect, but that I, like I believe most, just want to connect.

I am motivated by seeing the smile on someones face when they achieve something big for themselves.

I am motivated by seeing hope light someones eyes, where it was dim before.

I am motivated by the direct connection of a hug or holding someones hand, feeling the energy move between us. That direct link.

I am motivated by the relief on someone’s face when they realize that they are seen, accepted.

I am motivated to see the way I want to be seen, as a whole, flawed, worthy of compassion, love and understanding, creative being, waiting to connect.

I am motivated by love.

How do I love thee?

What is Love? As a noun- (1)profoundly tender, passionate affection for someone. (2) A feeling of warm, deep affection, personal attachment, parent, child or friend (3) sexual passion (4) A term of endearment or affection

It is a powerful word, yet too often thrown away on the wrong things. Do you really love the sweater that you saw in the shop window? Thrown in with a few ‘air kisses’ love ya!!! Easy to overuse and dismiss. But when you really say it and mean it, who is it for? Why?How does it make you feel when it is said to you?

The first love I really remember experiencing was that for my Mom and my Nanna. How do I know this is my first recognized love? By the utter hole it left when they both died. I could not breathe, I deflated, I lost a beat or two of my own heart. Family love, the first ties that bind.

My first romantic love came when I was young, all of 14. This was big, tingly and overwhelming. We often tell our children that their first relationship is not ‘real’ love. But in looking back, I have a very different opinion. Is it the way I experience love with my husband? No, not exactly but in some ways it is. With both, the pulse quickens, there is an excitement (that would be the addition of sexual desire), a comfort and shelter that I feel. I think that romantic love is a fluctuating balance of sexual desire and deep, profound, tender, passion and affection. The difference between that first love and the love I have now, is it’s ability to weather storms, to ride out the fluctuations that come with how life rolls. I believe this comes with maturity to know that the feelings of sexual desire will fluctuate, and that should not be used as the only measure of romantic love. It is in the ability to have one another’s back, to forgive and at times hold accountable, it is the coffee ready first thing, and the encouragement to do and be better. I am blessed to have an incredible love, it has been strong, deep, and one we have maintained through storms and calm seas. It is one that I am home in, but still get all butterflies on date night. For that I am very lucky.

I knew pure love the moment I looked at my son, and later on, my daughter. It is like a blinding white light. The depth is overwhelming, The hold it has is soul deep. This happens periodically even to this day, my son is grown and my daughter is 10. There will be just a moment I take to observe, they won’t really be doing anything special, eating dinner, laughing over a joke or telling a story about their day, and the tremor of this love bursts it’s pure white light out, it’s blinding flash gone in a second, but it is always there under the surface.

Love of the friendship kind. This one is tricky. It is easier to express to some more than others. Each one has a depth and meaning all it’s own. I truly love the people of my inner circle. My best friend of 3/4 of my life is someone I love deeply. We have been through so much, fought hard, but when the chips are down, I know she will have my back, as I would hers. She is the keeper of the record of my growth as a human. She is the best and worst judge of me. She is a part of me. There are others in my inner circle, my tribe of women who are funny, inspiring, human, messy, bright, and ferocious. I love them so very much. I am moved by what they accomplish. I am moved by the ways in which they support each other and the ways they support me. Though the women far out number the men in my inner circle, those who are there, are there for very good reason. And yes, I have a warm attachment love for them as well. They are smart, they are strong, willing, kind, humour filled people, that represent such wonderful examples of husbands, brothers, fathers, friends, They inspire and teach me from a perspective that is largely unknown to me.

I have loved pets, to this day, I get teary over each one lost to the rainbow bridge. They each have a space in my heart for the connection we still share. There are two that stand out for the depth of love and loyalty they gave me, and the depth of love and loyalty I needed to give. My dog Princess, she saw me through one of the worst periods of my young life. My familiar, my black prince of a cat Lestat. He found his way to me, when I needed unconditional love the most. For 18 years that sassy cat appointed himself my guardian, as he did with my daughter until she was 2. I mourn him everyday.

To be on the receiving end of any of the loves, having been someones child, I know that soul pull now from both ends. My mothers love was warm, light, and for a time very safe. My Nanna’s love was the same in it’s brightness and warmth. When my children hug me, or tell the way I have moved or inspired them, well, there are no words to describe that pure moment of receiving your child’s connected love. To give love romantically, with abandon, is joy, but to receive. It can be so enveloping, safe. Add to that the spark and passion of ongoing sexual desire and chemistry and it is no wonder the butterflies still go crazy. The bonded love of a pet, there is no other, even when they sleep on your face, eat your sandwich or throw up on the carpet. The nuzzle, lick and perfectly timed snuggle is worth it every time.

But there is one love I have not touched. It is the love of self. This I believe is the hardest to achieve with out condition. This is one my anxiety has diminished in me, at times, taken it away. It is an easy one to preach, but a truly hard one to live. Large ego and narcissistic behaviour often gets referred to as ‘really loving ones self’. I disagree, I think large ego and narcissistic behaviour mask self loathing. True love of one’s self also includes acknowledging accountability, being willing to learn, playing the strengths while working with the weaknesses. Celebrating one’s victories and success, but not at the cost of another. This, well, this is where the love work really lies.

It is my practice to tell people how they affect me. When I love, adore, appreciate, am inspired by, or feel gratitude toward someone, well, I let them know. Sometimes it comes across like an unintentional freight train and it freaks some people out. That’s a thing for me to work on, but honestly, I react, describe things how I feel in that moment. And in that moment it probably is big. I will let them know why. I think this is important. Interestingly enough this generally only applies to good stuff. When it is not so good, it takes me a long, long time. This has some good benefits, and some serious drawbacks. Again, an ongoing case by case lesson. I like to know how I have affected someone. It helps me to learn, learn what I am good at, learn what I need to work on. And it really is a good building block for working on the self love area.

What is love?