Everyone Else's Perfect Lives

I have lately been finding myself filled with the desire to shatter glass, and tear things.



It is not so much that I want to literally do these things as the satisfaction I get from imagining the sound of the glass against something hard or the sensory experiencing of tearing perfect cloth up its seams.

You see, everything falls apart.  And sometimes I question the strength of this world to hold us, to hold me and my thoughts.  There comes a time when even my faith is peeled back to the barest of bones, and I am left to wonder what will be contained in the marrow. 

And it's those ideals of perfection that lock us in cages, and keep us afraid to say that yes, we have also wondered, and you know what else and you know what my desires have been?  We nod our heads to things we don't agree with, just to keep the peace or the pretenses, but you know what I think:
Maybe you want to shatter glass too? 

But we're perfect, aren't we?  Everyone else? 
You and me, in each other's eyes?  Yes, no?  
Everyone else is better?  They have more peace, patience, prosperity, joy, love, time, courage, creativity - but how do you know?  Why do we think so?

They sit down to family meals together, after having a prayer time in which every child participates, no one is rolling their eyes, and all chewing of food has ceased.  They have it all under control, when their children misbehave, and no one in that house ever yells?  Gourmet meals are prepared for all to enjoy, and they never eat Wal-mart's popcorn chicken?  Every morsel is made from scratch with organic ingredients, isn't it? (insert smiles and winks)

I have made bread from scratch and think it's a fun process, but I do it maybe a few times per year.  I enjoy baking and have some excellent recipes, but I don't have time to do more than throw ingredients in with a boxed mix or stir up melted marshmallows and Rice Krispies for the football practice bake sale.  I have never attempted to make my own raviolis, but there are people who probably think I do just because I might have mentioned I thought it would be neat to try once, years ago.  Oh, me.  Want to come over for dinner for a week to see how it is truthfully?

My favorite movie during high school years was Quentin Tarantino's Natural Born Killers.  The comment by my freshman year of college English teacher in response to that?  I thought you were much different, so quiet.  I listen to almost all types of music, I have had the words to Dwyck and songs from Naughty by Nature memorized since I was a pre-teen, and it still makes me smile when I hear Bone Thugs N Harmony because I used to listen to their songs at night to go to sleep. 

I am not conservative OR liberal; I don't vote across a certain political line regularly.  I like to think about things and view issues from every side of the angle.  I may not shout out loud that hearing Pitbull's song "Crazy" at Zumba gets my blood pumping, or that sometimes I listen to Phish's "Run Like an Antelope" (out of control!) and want to do what it says...  But there are a lot of things you may not do that you want to do either.  So we have got something in common.  Oh, and after doing some intense writing, it helps me to listen to Rusted Root's "Back to the Earth" and dance to the beat.  And my son rolls his eyes at the dance moves I made up to Rihanna's song "We Found Love," but I can't imagine why (he rolls his eyes that is...)  Writing all of this is making me feel giddy!

There is a lot that we don't know about each other.  And that is alright with me.  If I'm not perfect, will you accept my flaws and all?  Will I be able to shatter my ideals of your perfect life as you share your truths with me?  Will the cracks in our lives let more light in, and bring us closer together? 

I am not perfect.  And because I'm not perfect, I know that no one else is either.  I'm also free to change, and so are you.  This idea of perfection is one that I continue to shatter and shred into tatters, because it constantly creeps in telling me it's true, and that I cannot compare to this one or that one because they are so much better than me, and I will never get there.  I do not find the need to turn everyday moments into confessionals, but when I find the hint of a thought about me that totally doesn't fit, I just hope I have the awareness and wherewithall to uproot it.  And I hope you do, too.

My code words are going to be these:  shatter!  shred!

So if you hear me saying this when we're talking about home decorating or gardening or who makes the best sand castles and gets gifts and flowers from their husband and updates their facebook status with pictures and posts of their fabulous locations and weekend plans, and who makes the biggest snowman this coming winter on days when I don't wanna get out of my pajamas, and....  (insert deep breaths here, because you know I could keep going...)

Well, I'm just gonna say it, because we have to remember this - we're not perfect and no one else is.  So let's honor ourselves for who we are and stop comparing because there's so much that no one can do like you do, or like I do, and it's those small things that really matter, the ones no one else really sees, and YOU are irreplaceable, you are beautiful, and you, my dear, are loved.

And you are enough.

And me too.

 

xoxoxoxoxo with love and hugs xoxoxoxoxoxo



What To Do?

 

What is there to do

when you find yourself

groping,

without realizing,

until the Voice on the still wind,

(the overcharged, stale air) 

leads you to find

the words of the prophet

that say we all do this,

"We grope along the wall like blind men,
We grope like those who have no eyes;
We stumble at midday as in the twilight,"

and you let out a sweet breath of release.

At the end there is hope,

a covenant that won't depart.



What do you do

and how do you begin

to live again

when you realize

that it is guilt,

it is shame,

that are the wrong ways,

the harmful rays

that need to go away;

NOT you,

or your life.

What do you do

when down is up

and up is down,

and you realize

what you have always really wanted to do

is slide down waterfalls

and drink rainbows,

happily -

and

happy -

that is what you have

always wanted

to be.
 



Adding this Sara Groves song, after realizing the words
"Sometimes this has left me groping in the darkness,

hoping in the darkness, I will run into you again,"

were contained in it.

"So I'll turn my back to the black and fall;

and pray for the mystery to rise up and meet me..."

Listen

If I listen closely, I can hear...

 

 

~callings, from beyond~

~whispers on the wind~

~ancestral songs, footsteps, imprints~

~further existence~

~things being made new~

 



 

~my heart beating~

~breath, in & out~

~You, with me~

~unbroken peace~

~strength rising, from within & beneath~

 



 

and if I listen closely,

I can see the spirals,

and hear the song singing,

"listen for noises that have no sound"

 

{journal prompt

from #27 of August

@ The Art Journaler}

The Wood Duck

It was at Women's Wellness Weekend that symbols from

the in-between fell into my path. 

And I received.

 

 

 

 Kim held a workshop, a wellness circle, with the topic "no coincidences".  All of us who participated had stories to share of times in which we followed the leading of Something Greater without fully understanding it; but fully trusting that it was the right thing to do.  Meredith shared how she met her husband by traveling to a tiny town in Ecuador which someone shared the name of - she went to the smaller town of the same name, but there was obviously a reason.  Emily shared how she stepped out into the unknown by participating in a group gathering for women in business and met someone who became a great encourager to her.  Muni shared how she met her husband, who had come to Brazil to minister to the Baha'i faith community, and how she had dreamed of him.

 

I shared about the items I found over the last day, small things that were in my path and I collected, wondering of their deeper meaning and messages.  One was a wooden bead found under my bunk as I placed my suitcase and shoes underneath it.  Another was a safety pin, found outside on the dirt path leading to the hall where we ate our meals, attended workshops, and danced for Zumba.  The last was a little yellow wooden duck, obviously used for kids' crafts at the camp, which I found on the path leading down to the lake on my way to check out the archery and BB gun range. 

 

 

"I believe that animals can be spirit guides," Kim explained, after suggesting that the bead could serve as a reminder that I am part of things (which means a lot to me.)  I took this piece of information in my pocket as I left from the weekend, planning to research it more.  The bead also reminds me of the infinitesimal, which holds great meaning for me.

 

I believe that God, by His Spirit, sends us messages through the in-between, and that we can read the messages if we care to.  Think about dreams, the symbols, numbers, the word or bird that we keep seeing, that seems to be looking at us right in our face.  Think about why we are attracted to certain animals, like my grandmother who loved giraffes, or my grandmother who loved owls.  Why do we connect with them so, what does this tell us about ourselves, what we are striving for, seeking, and the characteristics that we connect with?

This yellow duck looked like a rubber ducky.  What could it possibly mean?  When I made the connection - it is a wooden duck... A WOOD DUCK!!  And it's YELLOW - colors have meaning!  I was then able to extract much more from the messages I was reading on the websites I searched and gleaned from.  The wood duck WAS featured as a character all its own on websites that gave insight into the meaning of dream symbols and of Native American spirit guides, totems.  There is much connection to a world beyond here.   A world in which the Spirit, very much alive and speaking, has not left us to navigate this world alone but has left us with "The Friend, the Holy Spirit whom the Father will send at my request, will make everything plain to you. He will remind you of all the things I have told you. I'm leaving you well and whole. That's my parting gift to you. Peace. I don't leave you the way you're used to being left—feeling abandoned, bereft."

I know I am being spoken to, taught by, and guided by the One with whom I have entrusted my life.  And my desire is to keep my eyes and ears open to the message being sent through the in-between, the world beyond, and I will hold on to the meaning of the symbols that are sent to me.  I will listen to the messages being whispered in the silence.

I will notice that it is more than just coincidence when I log in to Facebook and see this posted, after I began to write this post early this morning...

These immature Wood Duck are a secretive bird commonly found in hidden ponds http://ow.ly/i/NRbS

Do you have stories of symbols that speak to you?

P.S.  I must share a little about what I discovered of the safety pin, too.  I read that it is a symbol of unity, and that it was used as a way for the Dutch to identify themselves when Nazi Germany was taking over their country.  The safety pin was worn by everyone who struggled for their freedom.  It was, as I read, "worn not just as an act of defiance but a symbol of hope and freedom."

 

For Myself

Notes to self; please remember -
I can't blog for anyone else.  I have to do this for myself.  I have to use this space to fill it with what I love, what I want to see, what I want to share, what I want this place to be when I come back to it for a place to be.  I can't blog hoping that people will comment or notice.  I have to be strong in me.  I have to be sure that I am authentically honoring me here in this place. 

 

Do I like what I'm doing?

Are my collections satisfying?

Am I able to share my thoughts paired with pictures of things

I wanted to capture and realized at certain moments?

Will I be delighted to share this place with my loved ones,

and myself when I am older?

Is it documenting my inner world sufficiently, to me?

By MY standards? 

Am I being myself? 

Do I like the life I am offering? 

How do I see me? 

Am I seeing me, more clearly?

Honor Thy Self

These journal pages are two that I created from prompts shared on The Art Journaler, and the following words were written for an article, which is linked to and you may finish reading at the Whole Family NEPA blog.

Just this morning in my journal, I wrote: “My mind is spinning. I’m trying to do too much, be involved with too much. I need to pause, to remember to consider myself and my needs.”   
to finish reading, click here....

Seizing Freedom

Philadelphia is full of freedom messages and art. 

My camera worked overtime during our visit,

trying to capture all I saw.  

How do we celebrate freedom and live out our rights to be free?  What are the words we live by?  Do we exchange one freedom for another?  How is it that we continue to enslave ourselves in one way or another - whether through our though processes or standards or beliefs?

"...I was not alone. 

There were many others who felt the same way."

This resounds.



And what is the experience of American freedom as compared to any other "kind" of freedom?  What is the attraction of freedom in the U.S. as compared to freedom elsewhere?  Does freedom exist in more potency here?  What is it like to live in a country, for example, that does not allow religious freedom or freedom of speech?  What is it like to live in a place that does not allow women to read great literature classics?

"...freedom is a personal and lonely battle..."

Is this because only we know what we have set out to free ourselves from?  Is this because, even though the laws of our land dictate freedom, we continue to set up invisible laws of our own that we beat ourselves up over for not abiding?

How can I use my freedom

to ensure that others are free and remain free?

No one knows for sure how, when, or why the Liberty Bell got its crack.  I imagine it has to do with the force with which it was ringing.  Ring them bells; they rung it - loud and clear.

It can only follow then, can't it, that as I continue ringing for freedom,

striving to seize it,

something is going to crack in me?

This is Art

The ability to see

that when these elements

are compiled just so,

the final outcome will be a picture
that looks like this:

As seen at the EPA building in Philadelphia, PA.

Found these interesting websites while trying to look for more information about this piece:

Crane Arts

Web Urbanist



Fray

Who am I

behind everything

that hides me?

Who will I be,

how will I find myself,

when all is stripped away -

even my faith,

and the words

emblazoned

When I'm laid bare

what will be

found left

of me

to say

I was here -

a survival

in existence

?

All of this,

all of this,

could disappear,

dissolve -

it could all

disintegrate,

tatter,

fray

 

 

Chronicle Project

There is an art project that I participated in through the Art House Co-op recently.  It was the Chronicle Project, and it was about documenting a 24 hour period of time in one piece of work that could fold up to a 4x6 dimension.  I took a ton of photos all day and then collaged them, along with words I'd written throughout the day, onto a map that could fold up into a 4x6 rectangle once I was done.  As is representative of me, you have to get close to really see.  A lot of messages of the infinitesimal were spoken throughout the day and the creation of this project.

My project, along with the other participants pieces, are on permanent display now at the Brooklyn Art Library.  I do plan to go there one day, and will update this post (or create a new one) once I am able to have that experience.

Here are close up pictures of the sections that comprise this piece.