Tuesday, November 17, 2015

Fear and Love in a Modern World

I was a fearful child. I was easily spooked, easily convinced of creatures lurking because I could see their movement out of the corner of my eye. I startled awake at a dog's bark, certain that intruders were closing in. I saw aliens in the night, in the form of bee-like swarms, hovering over my bed and ready to invade me. I had recurring nightmares of Nazi war crimes. I lived in my head and in my stories and a rampant imagination kept me on edge.

 With a preacher father and a Scripture-laden home, there was surely a verse for this ailment. My parents had a verse for everything. I used this one as a mantra: "For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind." And as a fearful girl, would mutter it in a long unbroken string of sound, much like Jenny on Forrest Gump dear god make me a bird, so I can fly far, far, far away...  It was like the beads on a rosary, rubbed smooth and reflexively. I would shout it in my head, pronounce it firmly to my racing heart - hoping for peace and a quiet mind.

Fear exists to be tamped down, to be put in its place. To be shoved aside and railed against.

We are shoving it aside right now, in our home. The local media alarms us that Atlanta is on the list of terror attack locations. A sleepless daughter whispers she is afraid. She is afraid there will be an attack and she will not be with us. She is afraid her school may be on the list.

I think back to my fears; I look deep in her eyes and tell her we all have fears. And then I confidently demolish every spoken fear with logic and assurance and overall, love. I lie face to face on her pillow and I hiss fervently of protection and power, whisper of evil in the world that will try to press fear upon us. We will not accept it. I choose not to live in fear. Having tamped down imaginary boogeymen my entire life, I am armed for bear. I speak in fast, unbroken cadence as though my words will draw the fear from her head.

L'amour gagne toujours L'amour gagne toujours L'amour gagne toujours
Love always wins Love always wins Love always wins

It is the only battle cry for me. There will always be a sea of troubles to take arms against, but I do not fight on that battleground. My fight is in every ounce of love and light pushed toward our leaders. In every step forward, refusing to give up liberty and live in fear. My fight is in raising compassionate children that will one day be compassionate adults. Adults who still see the endless possibility for peace in our world. Who accept the flaws but do not dwell on them.

Be strong. Hold fast. Don't give in to boogeymen.
The only way a small minority wins is through the overlay of fear on the majority.

Tuesday, November 10, 2015

Burn Notice or Not

"There were no hot beverage sleeves in those wild days. It was ok to burn us without warning."

I'm writing today and I'm really into this line. It is saying many things to me. I am saying many things to myself. Most of them are a kick in the pants. Others are gentle sweet murmurs of encouragement. I think I've read too many time travel novels and have slipped under the notion that time doesn't exist. It's the only explanation I embrace.

Here, have another line:
"Grown-up minds think the top shelves are safest; childish minds go straight for the top, certain that Things Worth Finding will be up high."

See? We don't even mean for our thinking to change, but it does. Constantly. When do we go from hiding things in truly good places, to simply hiding them up high? Any good Thing-Finder knows the tricks to finding things. (I hope your children are reading the brilliant Pippi Longstocking, she speaks their language.) And even more, knows the knack of valuing what they find. 
That's the banner of the day, friends. Value what you find. In yourself, in your friends, in your words, in your world. This must be what is called a gentle kick in the pants. Or a murmured kick of encouragement. Go out and be dear!


Tuesday, October 27, 2015

Something True

Tell me somethingTell me something true...

I have a lot of true things rolling through this brain these days. It's like I've lost the filter, you know, the one that tells you pretty lies. And reassures every little worry. Was it just me all along? Does everyone not have that filter?
Then let me tell you a story.

Sometimes, in some places, there is a girl who lives without anxious hurry. She believes the best about people; she believes in life and the wheel's potential to bring good things. She believes time will allow for many desires and goals to be fulfilled.

This is why I have begun asking friends what exactly composes a midlife crisis. This is more of a midlife evaluation, no? I am digging and brushing away chaff, and I am looking for substance. I am pushing away the pieces of life that hold no interest or value to me, and I am swallowing whole the experience of no filter. No hiding from myself. 
I am experiencing 39.
In classic style. 

Examining emotions
Considering angles
Implementing change 
Dissecting paradigms

Fun, right? 
Come along and join me. Tell me.

Tuesday, October 20, 2015

The Love Song To Words

If indeed our time here is spent
On a track riding a circular rail
like a roller coaster loop-de-loop on repeat
then I have surely seen this view
and made these choices
ramped up for the next Big Idea
and sat down at these keys
I've played a love song to words
have looked off into the trees feeling them
whisper through my mind
Woken in the night to snatch a dream onto paper
Gathering my words and torn scraps of ideas
come onto the track with me
We spin through time
and maybe I'm leaving a trail
capsules of times
Amuse-bouches for the mind
Listen for my scream on the final turn


Sunday, September 27, 2015

Availability for fate

Being available to fate is a celebrated thing. Imagine the setting; it is one we all pay lip service to - being in the right place at the right time. But we are so small and self-absorbed! How can we manage this! We might be distracted by a beautiful scarf or a latte or a street musician, and miss our window for fate's meeting! We might simply scroll through our twitter feeds for a few moments more, and if that act is a guilty one, then good luck fate.
We toss around the concept and acknowledge it when cool things happen. And though I believe it is swirling around us waiting to make connections all the time, I also believe we are strong-willed and independent creatures and not often easily led in the most auspicious directions to connect with The Whimsy of Fate.
Hi, I'm here to talk about fate today.
Have you had your fate today?
Eat it up, yum yum good!
I know this much for sure. When fate orchestrates an event in your life, call it. Shout it. It gives us all the hope that sweet fate will swirl around us and lend an inside tip. A hand. A shoulder. A love. Fate has many names, but no-show ain't one of them.

Monday, September 14, 2015

City Snapshot

I saw a photo this morning in a collection. A girl stood looking out a window, with a 30th floor view of a city.
I knew that view. I stood there once, in a midtown hotel in New York. Stood there with my face against the floor-to-ceiling window, taking it all in. Feeling like one face among millions, all of us falling in love with the city. My eyes shifting from landmark to avenue, admiring the flow of it all. The lights in different colors; the architecture of the Chrysler Building; the streets dwindling to a maze along the south side. The warm certainty of anonymity, like a craving.
A different slice of the city from my usual, that of a second story alley-view.
But still, that echo sits in me, that love of being unknown. Being swallowed up whole by a place and welcoming it.
Maybe I've always been fighting myself. Armored against being known, by the sheer willingness to be unknown. I've been in the market for an invisibility cloak all along. I've run away from the small places and hurried to the large places, desperate to be a stranger.
On weekends I want to leave my city and go to a city that is completely new, an area I have never walked and cannot be known. It is my version of wanderlust. The nothingness.
Maybe that's why I anchored myself with family.
One for each point of the compass.
In case I wander into the wind and sand and the pure comfort of a new experience each and every day.

Sunday, September 13, 2015


I've started dozens of posts in the past few months. But I'm losing my words.
After a decade of this
Worlds to words to ?
The code of stories is cut off from me
and I communicate in dashes and dots
a semi-colon, or on a sad day, a comma punctuates my parenthesis
The lines that ran through my head
beautiful words and expressions
have become emoticons
How do I feel
How did I feel
How will I feel
I am less I am more
I am
I am becoming

Thursday, May 28, 2015

Stealthy at night

Tonight I will steal away
my breath will hitch silently
and my feet will curl down lithely as I hurry in the dark
Don't find me
I need to wander and listen
I need to hear the rain and wander

Tonight I will drink sweet coffee
and steal, steal away while the fire is in me
I want you to miss me
Like the rain misses the waiting earth
I want you to ignore my absence
as though I still stand
A statue forever bent and tending
Someone small and needy

Tonight I will take out my pages
and I will tend them
I will care for the words and I will feed them extra syllables
for dinner
And I will discipline the unruly nature
of the spilling lines
And then I will wash the pages clean
and start a fresh day

There is always something to tend.

May 2015

Saturday, April 18, 2015


I want you to live on my street
so we can wander around
and lurk under trees
I want to walk barefoot into your kitchen
and feel the grit
and we can't care
I want to whisk you away
for hours
so we can laugh until our faces hurt
and all I do is make a face and you dissolve
into hilarity
I want that
That meaty filling part of life that is helpless laughter
and sublime enjoyment
And the certain knowledge that it will

XOXO for my Greenway Therapist


Friday, April 17, 2015

Pensacola Beach

Well, as you can see, we survived the Great Beach Trip and did not see a shark. Or die. A blast was had by all, and you can tell by my parting words: "Let's plan the next trip here. How soon can we come back?" Usually I need about 3 years between vacations. Pensacola Beach - our new favorite beach!

I love this... morning on the beach... 

Sand pits for all!

 A hug after Isabella convinces Phoenix it's ok to go deeper than his ankles... 

Everybody jump on Dad & photo bomb Isabella

Phoenix's first words every morning - "When can we go to the lazy river?"

The Holiday Inn resort was very nice, the restaurant was good, and the beachside tiki bar makes the best Bloody Mary you will ever find. Garnished with two jumbo green olives, a lemon wedge, and 2 green beans - and a dab of horseradish. Mama likey.

I had a story brewing this morning, but beach photos distracted me. Maybe this weekend when it rains I will make some writing time.