Tag: Spirituality (Page 2 of 4)

It is Coming, It is Here.

July 16, 2013 / Tom

I am clearing space in my life. I’m not sure for what, but I am sure that for some reason I am making room in my life for something that is not currently present in it. So, I go dutifully about my business instinctively, much like a bird making a nest or a wolf creating a den, without knowing what is coming or when it will arrive.

I wonder if I’ve always done this and am now simply aware of it, or if this is something new. I wonder as I watch the fruit fall from the tree of my life if it soon will be my time to ripen. In the silence of my breath I wonder quietly if I am the fruit at all, or simply discovering that I am, instead, the roots of the tree deeply connected with the Earth around me. Am I feeling the Earth as part of me now in a way that has never been? Or am I realizing that I am the Earth; Her streams, Her mountains, Her valleys, Her oceans and Her deserts?

I feel the sky in my stillness. Am I no longer just the blossom, or the fruit, or the tree or its roots, or the Earth but also the sky? I feel myself as the breeze, the clouds, the raindrops, and the starry night sky. I feel lighting come from my fingertips, and heat from my eyes. I feel the Sun burning from my heart and the moon from my Soul.

I feel as if I am the Sun. Just being me, destructive and life-giving, loving to some and painful to others. All I can do is burn, in the way I was created, in the way I have become, and light the sky for some while burning the ground for others.

I sit here for a while, enjoying the warm light from within, the stars surrounding me, the emptiness engulfing me. In the green-hued mist of my stillness I feel it all, and I remember. Yes, I remember it all. From seed to sapling, from sapling to tree, from tree to fruit, from fruit to root, from root to Earth, from Earth to sky, from sky to Sun, from Sun to here. I feel the Universe blanketing me, surrounding me in full emptiness and beautiful aloneness. I can’t feel any separation here, only truth that I am all of it. The sounds of silence tempered by the beating drums of eternal heartbeats fill my Soul with the rhythm of life, and I realize I am.

Now I return as that entirety sinks into that tiny Being we call “me” once again. I realize now that I am no longer just rooted in the Earth, but in everything I am. I love the scorched ground on which my light has shined just as I find joy in the lush meadows that would not ever have existed without me. I walk with a smile in the cracked creek beds that have dried in my presence and swim happily in the oceans teeming with life just because I am. I can make no apologies for either, for you are the creator of your own judgments on the matter. I can only be and let everything fall where it may.

Yeah. I am instinctually creating space in my life. Something is coming. I don’t know what, and I don’t know when, but I can see clearly in my steadfast foundation that when it arrives I will be ready. I can’t make excuses, I can’t make words to describe what it is, but I feel it all around me as I bask in the light I was created to shine. I feel the puzzle fitting nicely into place. I feel the warmth and cold with equal love, and I feel the day and the night blanket me with equal care. It is coming. It is here.

It is the Sunrise

June 12, 2013 / Tom

There is a vile moment in your experience when you realize, for the first time, that she is not the woman you thought she was. The antidote for that poison is the awesome realization that you are not the man she thinks you are. The smile that crests your lips is the Sunrise.

There is that sickening moment when you realize that the one you’ve trusted most knows your every weakness, and is suddenly allied with those parts of you. There is relief in that beautiful moment when you realize that your weakness has always been your greatest strength. The tear that trails down your face is the Sunrise.

There are those moments when you miss the ones you love and you’d give anything for one more hug, one more kiss, one more “I love you.” There is comfort found when the ones who love you hug you tightly, kiss you with joy, and scream to the listening world “I love you!” That comfort is the Sunrise.

There are those moments when you look back at certain times in your life filled with sadness and despair and begin to feel them again. There is joy when you return to this moment and find it was all worth it. That joy is the Sunrise.

There are those moments when you are filled with anger and your thoughts are focused on vengeance and retribution. You find strength when your breath returns and the gates of your heart open widely to let the love return. That strength is the Sunrise.

There are moments when you feel so lost that you are not certain you will ever find your way again. Find peace in the moment you realize just how found you are. That peace is the Sunrise.

Before every Sunrise comes the darkest part of night. Don’t wake up for the Sunrise, wake up for the darkest part that makes the Sunrise explode into your soul. Feel the coldest part of night before the warm light touches your skin. Know the dead silence of night before you hear the songbirds of the brand new day. There is so much beauty in those places we think are oh so ugly.

And the beauty we find? Well, that is the Sunrise.

Peace.

I. Love. Just. Being. Me

June 5, 2013 / Tom

There was once an ideal so great it seemed indestructible to me. It stood tall in the landscape of my life, and dominated my horizons even in those moments when I felt small and cold in its shadow. I measured my worth in its presence, often wondering if I could ever stand as tall as the person who had dominated my life.

Ultimately, I failed her and her me. It is remarkable what one can discover when the velo di amore is lifted from the eyes and replaced with la nebbia di avidità.

That is often where we find ourselves when a great promise becomes a lost ideal. I found myself a rudderless vessel unsure of each footstep and lost in an abyss of yesterdays, tossing and turning in a vast sea of uncertainty often sailing against the winds of my own heart. The very moment when you watch everything you once cherished and idolized become consistent with everything you wanted to remove from your life is the very moment when the ideal is lost, and often the very moment when you realize your life is no longer the dream you once held dear.

I had no idea what I was in for in that holy instant when the rains came and the flood waters descended upon my world. The walls closed in on me, and my heart sank into the black depths of despair. Gone are those who said you were their son. Gone are those who only hours before had said they loved you. Gone are those who called you brother, and gone is the one who promised you an eternity.

Everything goes. Everything vanishes. Everything returns to the dust on which it was built. Your life ends, or so you think.

I felt as if I was helpless, alone, and that I’d been left hanging in a place of which I had never been, in a way in which I had never experienced. I cried tears so salty that they dried my body of its substance, and sobbed so loudly that I had stirred the gods from their deepest slumber. I searched for reasons, and although I was told why from her, I realized that nothing I had ever believed in was real. I soon lost my sense of who I was and what I was doing.

It is, however, a moment of great opportunity. Some of us seek distractions and support from religion, others seek the same in substances. I simply wanted to watch and to learn. I wanted to seek out the illusions I had constructed in my life and end them. I wanted to suffer in order to end my suffering. I wasn’t going to find my joy in a Bible, or in a bottle; no I would have to find my joy in a place few of us journey into deeply in a way I had never tried before.

That is what I had decided to do. Search. Watch. Learn. Most of all I worked hard at not interfering with the process. Soon I began to see patterns that failed to serve me at my highest place. I saw my consistent need to blame myself for the failures. I saw the mistakes I made in not standing up for who I was and what I wanted in my life. I saw the error of not loving myself, and in not simply accepting my fears, my desires, my needs and my loves as wonderful manifestations of who I am. I allowed myself to be suckered into living a lie; her lie, their lie, and my lie. I followed my heart that said “I love you” without testing the waters in her mind to see if they were too shallow, too cold, or simply not aged enough to dive into. I allowed myself to believe her lie, and soon began living it as if I owned it. Worse, I began admitting to it as if it had really happened.

I began seeing the pedestal I had constructed to place her and them on. That pedestal was a dangerous construct, it puts others in a place of being worshipped unjustly while placing me in a place of worshipping others unfairly. I failed to see my worth, my value and my sense of divinity. It was no wonder I couldn’t see them for who they were.

Mere dust. Nothing more.

There came a time, though, when the proverbial flood waters receded and my ark came to rest on a mountaintop. The rainbows appeared and I let my cargo go free to wander those places I had never seen. It is there that the veil itself begins to unravel, and it is there that the pedestals crumble and the dust blows away. I began to see less with my heart and more with my mind all the while beginning to see it all with something I once searched for but had never truly found.

That part I was always seeking was, truly, that part that was always seeking me.

I began to see that there is truly nothing more valuable to a human Being as the relation I have with my Self. I began to see the things I once held so dear as nothing more than illusions. I began to let go of those swirling dust-devils I once held as gods upon a pedestal and they, in turn, began revealing their truth. I was never what I was told I was, and I was never what I wanted to be. Because I wanted to be it so badly I believed it so easily. In the end the lie was revealed, as was the truth. There is only I, and I am beautiful in every way.

They are just people, and not always just people. They are having their own experience as they have every right, and I have no real need to interfere with that which does not interfere with me. I don’t need their love to feel love, and I don’t need their acceptance to feel accepted. That was a losing proposition that I started years ago, and the faux me could never live up to the ideal that the real me had never agreed to.

So, now all I promise is me…in the flesh and in the spirit without pretense and without some false sense of what you want. You will either love me or not, and I don’t pretend to be able to make that choice for you. I love me, sincerely and without hesitation, as a man with perfect faults and incredible potential. I love what I am doing right now; taking a whirlwind of feelings, translating them into words, and sharing them with anyone who has the fortune of reading them. I love exploring parts of me that were once oppressed and hidden living up to ideals not mine and am often ecstatic about what I find in the process. I love jumping out of proverbial airplanes and free-falling, often unsure if the parachute I packed will ever open even while being sure that I was the one who packed it and no one else. I love being alone when I want, in great company when I can, and in exploring the liberation I’ve found in the broken shackles that now lay littering the place where the pedestals once stood. I. Love. Just. Being. Me.

Period.

I love writing about what I want to write about without worrying about being censored by someone who doesn’t accept me and who will never defend what she can’t accept.

I love that I am no longer afraid.

I love that I can experience this life in the way I wish to experience it without caring about the judgment of others.

I love that I no longer see the “old me” as bad because I no longer see the old me at all.

I love that I can now live in the present moment whenever I choose, undaunted by the desires of others to resign me to the box they created years ago.

I love that I can explore my journey while looking in the rearview mirror, unafraid of the judgments some will place on my experience, and without needing their approval.

I love the fact that sometimes I am deeply saddened by missing those I once called “family” even as I am extremely happy in the knowing of the love I have for them.

I love my children and the relationship I am forging with them. I love that they love me, and that I am acutely aware of the awesome miracles that they create in so many moments, in so many ways.

I love the friends I have discovered, both new and old alike. I love seeing the world with them, and in having our experiences together when the present themselves.

I love that I can be alone for days without worry and without despair.

I. Love. Just. Being. Me

Oh yeah, I said that already. Oh well, I hope to say it many more times before my time here is through. After all, there is no better proof that I love myself then in my ability to love you even if I can’t be “with” you. I love the fucking rain. I love the humidity. I love the cool breeze now lightly caressing my back through my open sliding-glass door. I love my cat who is now rubbing her body on my leg. I love the other one who is watching to see if I’ll pet his sister (they are competitive that way).

I love the fact that I am pro-peace and not anti-war. I love the fact that my oldest wants me to teach her meditation. I love the fact that I love.

And, of course, I. Love. Just. Being. Me.

As you can see, the experience of suffering can be a great friend. Losing something you love can also be a wonderful experience. Seeing what others are doing while also seeing who they are can be a wonderful experience. You soon see that they are just like you, having an experience, and even if you don’t like how you feel in what they are doing you can always find love for them because they are just like you. Even if they pretend to be better.

Take care of yourself and let them go. Those who don’t serve your purpose will drop away like rotting fruit from the tree to serve another purpose. Remember, that fruit is only rotting to you, to others that fruit will be a deserved feast, a welcome meal.

In the end what will only be real is the love you have for you. In the end, the only reality you will have is that you are a wonderful part of the Universe designed to manifest Its beauty. Adore yourself, and become your best friend.

Peace.

If You Can’t Take It With You, It Doesn’t Mattter

May 29, 2013 / Tom

I have been fortunate in my life to have been challenged by many people along the way. This story is an example of such a challenge.

This is a conversation I had with a conservative Christian woman who was slightly older than I am. It began as a group conversation about the checkered history of Christianity, to which I was offering factual accounts of atrocities created during that history.

The woman walked up to me afterward and said, “I’d really like to continue our conversation. You kind of peeved me a little bit.”

I’m pretty used to that reaction, so it no longer offends me. “How so? If I may ask.”

“Well, you seem to quickly point out the evils of Christianity, but you don’t mention that all religions have such issues in their history. Why not talk about that?”

Without wanting to get into a much deeper discussions of why it seems all religions have such a tortured past, I stuck to the subject at hand.

“I don’t believe that’s true. I don’t seem to remember much history of Buddhist atrocities, or of Buddhism’s evil side. I haven’t read where there were Buddhist inquisitions, or Buddhist crusades, or forced subjugation of people by Buddhists. It may be there, but have you ever heard of any?”

“No, I haven’t. But give it time, Buddhism isn’t that old.”

I kind of blinked strangely at that comment, and she must have seen it.

“Right?” she added.

“Actually, it may surprise you to find out that Buddhism is about 500 years older than Christianity. And it’s killed far fewer people. In fact, the vast majority of people who have died because of Buddhism have died because their Buddhist.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that.”

“Check it out if you want, but I think you’ll find it’s true.”

“Ok, so let’s go with that. I can also say with some certainty that Buddhism doesn’t contribute to society. At least Christianity does that.”

“Can I ask you some questions,” I went on. ” and would you answer honestly? Keep in mind that I am not asking questions to compare Buddhism to Christianity, but rather want to see if Buddhism contributes to society.”

“Yes, ok, go ahead.”

So, I asked her how many people Buddhist monks have murdered, or of people who have been murdered in the name of Buddhism.

She replied, “none to my knowledge.”

Then I asked how many nations Tibet has invaded.

She said “none.”

So I then asked her how many Buddhists the Dali Lama has ordered to attack non-believers.

She said “none to my knowledge.”

“Then haven’t Buddhists contributed something to society? Isn’t peace something we all can contribute?”

It appeared she had no choice but to say “I guess so.”

Not satisfied with this end, she then started with the clarifiers. You know, the “contributions I mean are jobs, money, income, wealth, prosperity.”

“Can you take money with you to heaven when you die?” I replied.

“No.”

“Can you take your house, your car, or your TV with you when you die?”

“No.”

“Can you take any part of your wealth with you when you pass on?”

“Nope.”

“Can you take peace with you?”

“Yes, I hope so.”

“Then isn’t the very thing that Buddhist monks contribute to society the ONLY thing you can take with you to heaven?”

She again seemed to have no choice but to agree.

“Does it seem strange to you that the very place your faith says you can take peace but not wealth is called “paradise”? Doesn’t it seem ironic to some degree that the Master you believe is the Son of God is also called the ‘Prince of Peace’ and not the ‘Prince of Job Creation’ or the ‘Prince of Sound Finance’?”

She then put her hand on my shoulder, said “thank you” and walked away. I’m not sure what, if any, effect the conversation had on her, but it seemed to confirm in me what I’ve seen since my earliest memory. Peace is the answer, and love is the way to peace.

We all have our own personal Bodhi trees, and for me mine has been the many times I’ve sat simply watching. Watching others. But mostly watching myself. Watching myself in moments of suffering. Watching myself in moments of ecstasy, or regret, or sorrow, or joy. Watching myself when I am challenged and when I am not.

It isn’t easy being a human, or another other physical being on this planet. Yet it can be. We just have to set our sights on that star of Peace and Love and hold our course even when the wild winds blow and the waves try to crack our hulls. We can…

So maybe we need to consider something taught as a matter of life by even the lowliest of Buddhist monks. It we can’t take it with us in our passing it really doesn’t matter. If we can’t hold on to it when we close our eyes for the last time perhaps it isn’t worth holding on to beforehand. Perhaps we have been taught incorrectly, and perhaps each of us, if we listen, can change.

And Now I Write…

May 28, 2013 / Tom

And now I write.

Having been blown away by the solemn wind of something other than this world, I write. Having fallen from a spot on which I’ve stood toward a hazy-blue tale of the unknown, I write. Having found the lost sense of purpose on which my heart does beat, I write.

It’s those eyes. Where have I seen them before? How do I know them? What commands my heart and soul to speak a truth my mind cannot yet fathom? What compass points to my true North which is not heading north at all? I do not think here, for reason has no place at this table. I am lost and found, completely at odds with my thoughts while knowing so certainly that what twists and turns outside my head is right.

To what paradise do I see when falling in those eyes? Only heaven could have pushed me from the cliff on which I’ve clung, and only Love could have gently forced me from the perch on which I’ve stood. I spread my mighty arms and soar through air that I once feared, now knowing the dream I’ve dreamt a million times as a new reality.

To you I fly,

my sweet lullaby,

To tear this mind apart.

And though I try

I can’t deny

That sweet and gentle heart.

And so I write. Onward and endless flow the eternal words from the deepest part of me. Harnessed intentions I see in the moving clouds and hear in the rustling of the leaves that are seldom dormant in my mind. It is a truth. It is the truth, and a purer diamond you will not find in the entirety of our Universe. Hold it. Keep it, and view the world through its perfect eye.

Goodbye, for now, as I will write again when the winds stir me to that hallowed estuary.

Peace.

A Warrior’s (Writer’s) Prayer

May 28, 2013 / Tom

Ah, the night, that time when the mind refuses its call to slumber, that time when rants and raves fill the heart with a desire unique to the tortured soul. Alone we stand even in good company, tired and crestfallen in our belief that we are deserved of something more rather than openly embracing that which we have chosen to ignore. It is here I pray, and in here I find the answer.

I beg of you, be silent you tortuous bastard! Let the body rest and let my flower bloom. Let the stars align and remove the clouds that hide them from my eyes. Clear me a path to heaven’s gate and do not stand in my way. Allow me in, and let me make a mockery of it all with the snap of my finger as my eyes open and reality once again sets in. Let me know that in the great God’s absence I am the Creator, and let such blasphemy fall upon the ears and lips of those too afraid to step outside of their cave. Let the light be seen by all, and make such fear blow away with the clouds that keep me from my Moon’s sweet light, and my risen Sun.

Give me strength to press on even in the darkness of my illusion. Let me shine the only light I see into the frayed corners of these darkened rooms and under those places where I pretend to rest at night. Give me the power to fly above the valleys of my own creation toward those great heights that await me, and do not give me cause to rest when there is so much work yet to be done. Harden in me that which is soft, and soften in me that which has hardened.

Let words be my sword and experience be my shield. Allow me no safe passage where none exists, and allow me no safe harbor in those dry lands of my own design. Let me not pass my cup to others unless it is their will to quench a thirst of which I have no judgment. Allow my shoulders to be strong to carry the crosses I chose to bear, and allow my hands their strength to shed that wood that no longer serves me well. Give me strength to suffer in silence when I must, and the power of voice to scream a prayer when it serves the fires burning deep within my soul.

This I beg. Allow this warrior to not pass without his mark clearly stamped. Let not his body rot lest it feed a forest, or his blood be spilled lest it find a meaningful place to land. Make his sweat that holy water of legends, and his story a fabled treasure for those who have lost their drunken minds.

I accept it all with an open mind, an open heart and a waiting soul.

Amen.

Lessons Learned in Letting Go

May 25, 2013 / Tom

It felt good to let go, to watch her walk freely into the world on the path she had chosen for herself. Her smile was evidence of a just Universe, her life since then proof of something wonderful. Yes, beautiful things can come from the ugliest of places.

Letting go wasn’t easy for a man who loved her so. Her soul spoke to him in a language he had never heard before but, somehow, easily understood. His heart beat out her name not only in the most silent of moments but also in the middle of the storms they had created together. It was their minds, however, that could not reconcile to the music they were hearing.

He had become a willing student of observation and what he observed in the process of letting go was a formidable truth. He could see the tricks his ego would play on him, the anger his mind would create as a method of self-protection. He could also hear the requests of his heart and feel the pulsing glow of a love that was true from the moment he saw her. The choice, he knew, was his. He could listen to either.

What he believed she had done became irrelevant after a while, replaced by a simple belief that all things spoke a truth all of their own. What had bothered him as their minds battled one another wasn’t her, it was the truth that in the divine trinity of human love their minds simply were not meant for one another in this lifetime. He could love her deeply in his soul without hesitation. He could caress her in his heart for eternity. He could not, however, dance with a mind that was hearing a different song.

She was not wrong. She was not at fault. She was her perfect self whose mind danced to a beat of a song he could not hear. Her dance was perfect even if he could not follow the moves, and it was perfect even if he found it impossible to learn. As the dust swirled around him he lost touch with her soul and could no longer hear her heart beating in his chest and anger filled the vacuum. He was angry with himself, falling to the common ledge of self-loathing and doubt. He filled the void in the only way he knew how, and he could feel his mind and body slowly falling into the ego’s trap of fear. He began to resist everything, and in doing so he began to attract even more things to resist.

Life had taught him to observe, and it had also taught him the value of experience. He knew he needed this experience even if he could not say why it was necessary. So, he simply went where the currents took him and watched. He could see what was making him unhappy. He could see where the weakness was, and even if he decided not to change his condition in the moment, he was discovering the value of the experience. No tear was wasted, no moment of anger was spent in vain. He knew that one day he would tire of walking in shoes that never seemed to fit on a path that was either too rocky, too narrow or too boring for him to enjoy.

Sadness was created for the experience of joy. Once we experience sadness we understand the value of joy and we can choose which path we wish to take when presented with the option. This expression we call “life” is nothing more than a series of options given to provide us with experience, and we are the Master of our own destiny; the Creator of our own reality. We often fail to realize our own power as Master and Creator, but once we not only realize that power but observe it in action we begin to see the error of blame and judgment. As he began to observe his own dance and how perfect it was, he began to see hers as perfect too. As he began to see the value of his own independence, he began to see the value in hers. As he began to see the perfection of his own needs he began to see the perfection in hers.

What he discovered was probably the greatest discovery of his life up to that point. Letting go is not about forgetting. It is not about anger, or fear, or hatred. It is not about being wrong, or being right. It is about remembering. It is about love. It is about acceptance.

He had discovered that when one finally accepts himself he cannot help but accept others. He had discovered that when one finally loves himself he cannot do anything but love others. It all began to make sense to him finally. The Jesus of the New Testament did not command us to “love one another” for the neighbor’s sake, he did so for our own. He did not “so love the world”, he so loved himself that he could not help but love the world. All of it. Even the tax collectors. If we choose to see God as “Love”, then the Jesus written about certainly was God’s son sent to remind us that we are, too, Love’s children.

It seemed that what Buddha had found was not the rejection of attachments as a path to enlightenment. Instead, we find peace when we accept everything. That’s real love. Forgiveness is not an act of loving someone else despite themselves, it is in loving yourself despite yourself. Self-love is not a sin, it is a wise mastery of everything around you. Self-mastery is not about discipline, it is about acceptance. Forgiveness is nothing more than an act of acceptance, of love, and soon it all becomes one big non-thing.

It all becomes about selfishness. No, not the type your parents warned you about. Instead, this type of selfishness revolves around the focus on self. He had found that when he was happy he had great ability to make others happy. When he was not, he could ruin the best of moods. He began to see himself as the pebble and the universe around him as the lake. He could create ripples, and he could change the Universe around him with one thought translated into one action. He could ruin a field of bluegrass with one dandelion, or he could plant the daisies that brought the world to life. So he began to focus on self, to become more selfish, because his experience and his Universe depended on it. He began to see the meaningless of his human condition even if he wanted to experience it. He could choose which he would experience and which he wouldn’t, and as he began to change his mind, he began to change his world.

There is great strength in each of us, a great power that often goes unrealized in this experience. We don’t just use only 10% of our brain, we also seem to use only 10% of our power and most of that is often wasted on living in the dreams of others. You will begin to see this the moment you decide to be selfish and to take control of who you are and the life experience you are having. The Sun does not have such great power because it is trying to be the moon, and you will never find yourself in the hearts, minds, or opinions of another.

He could remember the moment he had found her soul again. He could feel her heartbeat once more when he closed his eyes and felt the silence all around him. He could see her smile and laughter in his mind’s ear and he knew everything was perfect. It was at this moment that, with a slight exhale, he let go. Not of her, but of that part of him that held on to the egoic ideal of what should have been. As the smile and laughter of hers blended into a smile and laughter of his own, he knew. He had let go of everything in that moment, a moment worth remembering.

If it is true that one cannot add to a cup already full, he was happy for the experience as he emptied his own. Experience is nothing if never exercised, so in letting go he also found the desire to move on. He had smelled the flower whose fragrance would forever remind him of possibility. A wave retreats to make room for another, and he had found the desire to splash in the surf again even if he would enter the water as if for the first time. With that he entered in the direction of the Sun a place greatly affected by the moon knowing that he was exactly where he wanted to be.

Peace.

I Once Believed

May 21, 2013 / Tom

There was a time when I believed in something.

I believed that they were my family. I believed that I was their son. I believed that I meant something to them. I believed their words. I believed who I was to them. I was more than just some guy brought into their family. I believed I was loved. I found importance there, and I found meaning.

I believed that they were my friends. I believed that they liked me. I believed that they laughed with me and at my jokes. I believed they saw something in me even if I had not yet seen it in myself. I believed they had faith, that their smiles were genuine, and that their friendship was based on who I was. I found peace there, and I found importance.

I believed that she was forever. I believed that the scars would heal, that I would be “fixed” and she would forever be there. I believed in the power of love even if I had no real idea of what love was, and I believed in the imminence of forgiveness even if I was uncertain of how to forgive. I believed she could make the pieces whole, and that the power I had found in the beauty of her smile would make the dream real and the nightmare over.

I believed that I was broken. I believed that I needed them to fix me. I believed in the guilt that I felt with every breath, and the surety of failure that was my constant companion. I believed I needed them to show me strength, to prove my value, and to make me something more than I felt I was.

Yes, I believed. I believed I was nothing. I believe I was something the ground would tread on. I believed in the darkness and I only dreamed of the light. I repeated the mantra of weakness as I gave others power over me. I abdicated the throne given to me at birth, and I let others control the kingdom of my life.

I believed in them because I did not believe in myself. I needed them because I did not know who I was. I feared being alone because I did not know the awesome company I keep in myself.

Now, in their absence, in their denial, in their outright rejection I find a beautiful sunrise. I find health. I find peace. I find a strength unimaginable yesterday. I realize they are not gods, and that it is patently unfair to expect others to give me what I cannot give to myself.

Most of all, I find a love for me. I find a joy in being with me, and I find those things make me able to love those in my life without need for definitions, of roles, and of a commitment that neither feels right nor feels necessary. I find the power to be honest not only with those in my life, but with myself. I find a great acceptance of my flaws, of my strengths and of my humanness. I find my center easily because my focus is not diverted out there.

And I am happy. For the first time in my life I feel truly happy.

So, in some respects I am grateful their words were meaningless and their devotion unreal. I am grateful for the tremendous loss that has brought me here. “For I once was lost, but now am found, was blind but now I see.” I am happy to have sunk to the bedrock of my life so that I could find the truth there. I am grateful for the climb out of the pit, and for the fact that she was nothing more than a hollow promise that did not exist outside of a fantasy. I needed the loss, and I needed the pain in order to discover something far greater than I have ever known in my life.

So, in letting go I have found nothing to hold on to. I have found surety in the bedrock on which I once stood that showed me the beauty around me. The hug of my children. The truth in their words that come in the hallowed words “Daddy, I love you.” The ability to stand up for my truth regardless of what others would say or do. The indescribable feeling of sitting with my children in a “family sandwich” telling silly jokes until we simply can’t think of another word to say. Then we are still, as if on cue, the three of us simply listening to whatever direction the Universe sends us in. We can find great joy in our sandwich, and we can find great joy in our aloneness because we are not defined by any of it.

I have discovered that I am whole, and that I am a perfect being even in my imperfectness. I need not be fixed for there is nothing broken. Yes, I laugh out loud at the thought that I needed anyone to be fixed. Now my choices are mine and mine alone. I no longer need have faith in anyone even though I have found faith in many. I no longer need pretend and fake a smile in the storm of false accusations and innuendo. Let them throw their stones, for my choice is to smile purely into the heart of their anger and speak my own truth regardless of what they do.

There is love here…much love, and it is now directed in the right place. Yes, there is great promise here.

Removing the Shackle

May 11, 2013 / Tom

Ever just want to scream something so ridiculously crazy that the world would just have to sit up and take notice (I was thinking “I love you” would do the trick)? Ever just want to hug the stranger next to you in such a way that they had to hug you back?

Ever just want to not eat until some idiotic wrong was righted in the world? Ever just want to stop alongside the open highway and climb that rock face that is taunting you as you drive past?

Ever wonder where the shells that you hide under were created? Ever wonder why you say “I’ll start tomorrow” the very thing you want to do now?

Who the fuck put this shackle around my leg?

Right. I did. Sure, someone else may have handed it to me. Someone else may have even taught me how to put it on. Yet the fact that I am still wearing it is all my choice. If there is a lock on it, I put it there and I can remove it. All it takes is resolve and the simple choice that I will not be tied to this place any longer. Then I have to actually bend down, remove the chains, and freaking fly.

Put down your chemical weapons, the ones you use to assault your mind and body daily, and dance freely in your insanity. Throw away your bricks and mortar, the very means you use to defend yourself against shadows, and actually risk being free. Stop seeking protection from the “powerful” and realize your own power. Stop giving others the power that you were granted as a birthright into this physical world. Make them responsible for themselves and give yourself the choice to live. Hug your lover. Make love in the rain and don’t stop until you simply cannot move. Kiss your lover in the middle of a city. Hug her in the throes of an argument. Do the unexpected. “Be notorious!”

I, frankly, am sick of being my own version of the status quo. I’m sick of the rules. I’m sick of being told fucking is a dirty word and that there is a process to everything. I’m tired of walking in the direction the signs tell me to, and I’m sick of being told where to stand and where I am permitted to stop. I’m fed up with borders and nationalities. I see much more order in chaos than I do in the mundane assimilation of my soul to someone else’s way of life.

I will live in honesty and truth not because it is expected of me, but rather because it is who I am. I will live debt free because to owe is to be enslaved. Once I have filled in a hole it will never be dug into again. I will relish life in its simplicity, and I will love hard and die when the time is right. You will not scare me. You will not deter me. You may hate me but you will never change me.

I will not fly a flag or worship a statue. I will not follow your silly superstitions and I will not fear the tales you tell. Demand I bend to your lash and I will stick it up your ass. I will not honor the manly creation of God or the Godly creation of man. I will simply experience, and I will climb the rocks I choose and hike the trails that call my name.

There, shackle removed. Your turn.

Feel Me

April 24, 2013 / Tom

“Imagine,” she says, “my arms around you, my tongue tasting you, my heart beating next to yours. Imagine the wildness in my eyes, the beast escaping my parted lips as we embrace in the wilderness of love’s sweet creation. Imagine the calm roughness of it all, the sweat pouring from our brows and mixing there, in that infinite field of pleasure we call “us”.

I can feel your body in my arms, my love. I can hear your sweet breath in my ears as you whisper those sacred passages uttered from the deepest parts of your soul. It is not my ears that hear, or my fingers the feel, or my eyes that see. Something else is guiding me toward that part of you no one else can see.

Give that to me, my love. Discard the burrs and thorns you have collected as you made your way here. Throw away the shields you have created to keep yourself basking in the illusion of wholeness. Open up those once-closed arms and let me nestle beside you, in you, around you. Feel that warmth of the Sun rising within you and the waves rushing around you. Feel the sudden coolness as my touch inspires you to find new heights and seek new pleasures. Do not think, but feel. Know your thoughts as passing clouds and realize your feelings are the breeze that pushes them away. Experience this and make it your religion. Know this and worship at the altar of Love.

Forget your body as the water flows out of you. Let go of your senses and know them to be the essence of Heaven making Itself known. Bathe me in who you are, and let me kiss away the scars as you drop your guard forever. Be true to that thing called “us”, and know that there is truth in what you feel in your Mindfulness Reach out for my hands and they will answer you. Claw at my back and hear me beg you for more. Let me taste you in your moment of glory and let me forever be found in those enlightened spaces. It is there that I will shine, and it is there that you will know who I am.

Your Warrior has come for you, and in the bare nakedness of our Beings we have found each other. It is not the flesh that beckons us to climb. It is not the mind that begs us onward. There is no spoken word where we stand. Rather, you will know me in the chills that run up your spine as I trace the contours of your breasts. You will know me when you feel the hardness of my desire enter you. You will know me when you close your eyes and feel the tingle starting as I beg to take a drink.

Truth is found in those moments where body, mind and soul dance together in perfect harmony. Imagine that moment when our bodies scream in pleasure as our souls splash and dance in the puddle our melting minds have created. Imagine the perfect synchronicity of our rhythm as we move together. Imagine the throbbing of our flesh in the moment we see the sparkle in each other’s eye. Then feel it. Feel it with all of your heart and make it known that feeling is the truth. Then the fog will lift and we will see each other, as the there and then become the here and now.

I am waiting for you, my love. With impatient patience I am waiting for you to crest the summit and smile in my direction. I am waiting for the lust you inspire in my heart to become the truth of our souls. I love the journey I have taken and the place I stand now because it all is leading to you. I honor the health and the scars, the wins and the losses, as words written leading to that chapter where you are waiting. I read my story with a smile because you are in it even if I haven’t gotten to that part yet. When I do, the words will flow like beads of sweat from our enraptured skin. We will find it all in that space we call “us” and in that moment we call “now”.

Take this place we are in now and cherish it as the path that leads us to that first real embrace. See the Phoenix rising above the once burning pages of this experience, and see me, the Lion, smile forever adoring the time he has spent with you. Know that as I wrote this your voice was in my mind and your essence was swirling around in the green-hued center of my Soul. Know that I do not know your name but I do know who you are and I will recognize you when the time is right. Know that as the pages turn to that place where our stories combine that we are not writing fiction. Know that I am smiling right now as I can feel you, that unknown hand outstretched as a respite from a journey hard-fought and well-taken. As you read this at some time in some place not yet seen know that I am as sure of you as you are of me even in the throes of complete uncertainty.

Perhaps we have met. Perhaps we have gazed into the starry sky together and felt the pulse of life around us. Perhaps we have never seen each other. Neither of us can be sure, but certainty will be the gift we receive the moment it becomes available. There we will float hand-in-hand in the River of Life, eating of the same fruit and dancing in the wilderness among the trees we have planted.

Be well, my Lover, I am here. There is little doubt when hope becomes real, or when a prayer is echoed in our footfalls and answered in the intertwining of our fingers. Be there, even now, and find me there. Be still and find focus for the mist will burn away in the glow of destiny. Find your truth and stick to it even when the lightning and thunder of a world gone mad distracts you, and when the winds steer you off course know that you can always look within and find that star that will guide you home.

Walk well, and in the most still of moments hear the rush of the ocean beyond what you can see. Rise up and pick the fruit off the trees that bend their branches to you. Take off your shoes and feel the Earth hug your feet. Slowly drop the threads that hide you from me until, as our paths cross, we both stand naked to no one but each other. You will, there, find great pleasure in the tip of my tongue, the movement of my fingers, and the hardness you crave as the ecstasy seems too much to bear. We will bathe in the torrents as the rains bathe the dust from our skin and clothe us in a new reality. Come, know it all and be prepared to scream your prayer as unintelligible words to an unknown god. They will be answered.