The Awakening Of My Spirit

(Author unknown)

A time comes in your life when you finally get it…when, in the midst of all your fears and insanity, you stop dead in your tracks and somewhere the voice inside your head cries out…ENOUGH!
Enough fighting and crying and blaming and struggling to hold on. Then, like a child quieting down after a tantrum, you blink back your tears and begin to look at the world through new eyes.

This is your awakening.

You realize it’s time to stop hoping and waiting for something to change, or for happiness, safety and security to magically appear over the next horizon.

You realize that in the real world there aren’t always fairy tale endings, and that any guarantee of “happily ever after” must begin with you…and in the process a sense of serenity is born of acceptance.

You awaken to the fact that you are not perfect and that not everyone will always love, appreciate or approve of who or what you are…and that’s OK. They are entitled to their own views and opinions.

You learn the importance of loving and championing yourself…and in the process a sense of new found confidence is born of self-approval.

You stop complaining and blaming other people for the things they did to you – or didn’t do for you – and you learn that the only thing you can really count on is the unexpected.

You learn that people don’t always say what they mean or mean what they say and that not everyone will always be there for you and everything isn’t always about you.
So, you learn to stand on your own and to take care of yourself…and in the process a sense of safety and security is born of self-reliance.

You stop judging and pointing fingers and you begin to accept people as they are and to overlook their shortcomings and human frailties…and in the process a sense of peace and contentment is born of forgiveness.

You learn to open up to new worlds and different points of view. You begin reassessing and redefining who you are and what you really stand for.

You learn the difference between wanting and needing and you begin to discard the doctrines and values you’ve outgrown, or should never have bought into to begin with.

You learn that there is power and glory in creating and contributing and you stop maneuvering through life merely as a “consumer” looking for you next fix.

You learn that principles such as honesty and integrity are not the outdated ideals of a bygone era, but the mortar that holds together the foundation upon which you must build a life.

You learn that you don’t know everything, it’s not you job to save the world and that you can’t teach a pig to sing. You learn the only cross to bear is the one you choose to carry and that martyrs get burned at the stake.

Then you learn about love. You learn to look at relationships as they really are and not as you would have them be. You learn that alone does not mean lonely.

You stop trying to control people, situations and outcomes. You learn to distinguish between guilt and responsibility and the importance of setting boundaries and learning to say NO.

You also stop working so hard at putting your feelings aside, smoothing things over and ignoring your needs.

You learn that your body really is your temple. You begin to care for it and treat it with respect. You begin to eat a balanced diet, drinking more water, and take more time to exercise.

You learn that being tired fuels doubt, fear, and uncertainty and so you take more time to rest. And, just food fuels the body, laughter fuels our soul. So you take more time to laugh and to play.

You learn that, for the most part, you get in life what you deserve, and that much of life truly is a self-fulfilling prophecy.

You learn that anything worth achieving is worth working for and that wishing for something to happen is different than working toward making it happen.

More importantly, you learn that in order to achieve success you need direction, discipline and perseverance. You learn that no one can do it all alone, and that it’s OK to risk asking for help.

You learn the only thing you must truly fear is fear itself. You learn to step right into and through your fears because you know that whatever happens you can handle it and to give in to fear is to give away the right to live life on your own terms.

You learn to fight for your life and not to squander it living under a cloud of impending doom.

You learn that life isn’t always fair, you don’t always get what you think you deserve and that sometimes bad things happen to unsuspecting, good people…and you lean not to always take it personally.

You learn that nobody’s punishing you and everything isn’t always somebody’s fault. It’s just life happening. You learn to admit when you are wrong and to build bridges instead of walls.

You lean that negative feelings such as anger, envy and resentment must be understood and redirected or they will suffocate the life out of you and poison the universe that surrounds you.

You learn to be thankful and to take comfort in many of the simple things we take for granted, things that millions of people upon the earth can only dream about: a full refrigerator, clean running water, a soft warm bed, a long hot shower.

Then, you begin to take responsibility for yourself by yourself and you make yourself a promise to never betray yourself and to never, ever settle for less than you heart’s desire.

You make it a point to keep smiling, to keep trusting, and to stay open to every wonderful possibility.

You hang a wind chime outside your window so you can listen to the wind.

Finally, with courage in you heart, you take a stand, you take a deep breath, and you begin to design the life you want to live as best as you can.

Enduring Love

At the break of day ,

and by the morning light you cling to me.

In my prickly moments,

You bring me peace and harmony.

When day is done;

With tight shut eyes I see your adoring face before me,

And feel your trembling, midnight lips upon my burning flesh.

Though time and space is etched with fire upon my soul,

it matters not for me.

I do not question why,

Nor would I ask or answer this.

For you are too my strength, in time.

For you are truly

my enduring love.

cbruce

What is it that I love

What Is It That I Love?

If asked why I love her I would say

It’s the sway in her hips,

the thickness in her thighs.

It’s the lust in her lips,

the love in her eyes.

It’s the softness of her skin,

the silk in her hair.

It’s the twist in her walk;

it’s the sweetness in her talk.

It’s the way she loves me

that makes me love her each day.

That is what I would say.

- Justin Hutchins -

Seventh Heaven

As the heavens swirled above our heads,time stood still..

Only the sound of our breath sturred the frothly silence and the thump of 2 hearts beating in perfect harmony gave rhythm to the hot summer's night.

cbruce

The Hunt

What is this idea of a perfect love?

In what hidden place does he so cleverly reside?

Where is this perfect love that is found within me?

In what corner of my heart does he so cleverly hide?

How does he appear?.. I ask..

Who can describe this tenant that I might require that he show himself ?

Instead he taunts from his reclusive place with fleeting images without a trace.

Yet he shows not his face to me,

nor does his presence nourish me.

I will hunt him down with dogs..if they will hunt!

Still they bark and sniff but he is not dislodged.

I will command to no avail.

And all is silenced beneath the clatter of the hunt;

Torrents washed this fateful trail.

And so I am still here astride my steed.. prepared to hunt..

And yet… there is no track or trace

to lead me to this hiding place.

cbruce

The House were I was Born

I remember, it was a morning, in summer,

The window was half-open, I drew near,

I could see my father at the end of the garden.

He was motionless, looking for something,

I could not tell what, or where, beyond the world,

His body was already bent over, but his gaze

Was lifted toward the unaccomplished or the impossible.

He had put aside his pick and his spade,

The air was fresh on that morning of the world,

But even freshness can be impenetrable, and cruel

The memory of the mornings of childhood.

Who was he, who had he been in the light,

I did not know, I still do not.

But I also see him on the boulevard,

Walking slowly, so much weariness

Weighing down the way he now moved,

He was going back to work, while I

was wandering about with some of my classmates

At the beginning of an afternoon still free from time.

To this figure, seen from afar, moving on its way,

I dedicate the words that cannot say what they would.

(In the dining room

Of the Sunday afternoon, in summer,

The shutters closed against the heat,

The table cleared, he suggested

Cards, since these are the only pictures

In the childhood house to satisfy

The needs of dream, but he leaves,

And when he does, the child clumsily takes the cards,

He puts the winning ones in the other’s hand,

Then waits feverishly for the game to begin again,

And for the one who was losing to win, and so triumphantly

That he might see in this victory a sign, something

to nourish some hope the child cannot know.

After this, two paths part, and one of them

Vanishes, and almost immediately, forgetfulness

Sets in, avid, relentless.

I have crossed out

These words a hundred times, in verse, in prose,

But I cannot

Stop them from coming back.)

The house where I was born (07) by Yves Bonnefoy

Note:
The inspiration for this drawing came from Domenico Ghirlandaio's Old Man and Child in the collection of the Louvre, and an affectionate snapshot of Bill Durks with his young stepdaughter, Dorothy. In the original painting, an old man with a nose distorted by rhinophymic growths looks down at the tow-headed child in his lap. One might think of the painting as a meditation on youth and old age but I think it is an expression of love that transcends physical appearance and knows no reservation. For me it demonstrates the intrinsic purity of a child's love. I have seen this for myself and have been touched forever because of it.
I was at the home of a woman who was a burn victom. She had healed but had been burned on 90% of her body. Her scares were horrable. Her once beautiful face now layers of scar tissue; but as we talked over coffee in the kitchen I forgot about the scars and listened to her recounting aspects of her life with much respect for her courage and bravery. As we talked her little daughter ..about 4 years old came bounding into the room. She asked mommy if she could go into the yard and play. Mommy said she could go and spontaniously the little girl put her arms around her mother's neck and kissed her on her mother's scared face.

There was no reservation from this mother and the little girl saw only the beauty of her loving mommy. Togeather they were, in that moment, in perfect harmony.  As for me I never forgot that demonstration of love, as in little Yves switching cards or as demonstrated in the drawing above, that spoke to me that day. It seems we never know when our lives will be touched in some profound way and sometimes we do not realize the full extent until our experiences are left to marinate for awhile. 
cbruce