tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36725878412780810982024-02-02T06:22:19.089-08:00 The Art of Being YouJocelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02222629927957366787noreply@blogger.comBlogger76125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3672587841278081098.post-1955794007485571372018-03-21T23:44:00.001-07:002018-03-21T23:44:26.816-07:00AskSunflowers<br />
<br />
My declared flower<br />
<br />
Easy to like<br />
<br />
Without asking<br />
<br />
Without demanding too much<br />
<br />
Without needing enough<br />
<br />
All this time<br />
<br />
When I am a surprise delivery, two dozen roses, with a heart-stopping, knock-me-on-my-knees note, heart erupting wanting of a woman.<br />
<br />
Wildflower?<br />
<br />
Shower me with a goddamn garden.Jocelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02222629927957366787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3672587841278081098.post-39044300542114976202018-03-20T23:36:00.005-07:002018-03-20T23:36:49.926-07:00Mirrors<br />
I want to travel to the farthest corners of the untouched Earth, so that one day, I may meet the Universe herself; face to face.Jocelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02222629927957366787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3672587841278081098.post-59311048165779680982018-03-20T23:34:00.002-07:002018-03-20T23:34:12.549-07:00Refugee<br />
I am a refugee. I come from a place where I am no longer. I have traveled for far too long and thousands of miles from where I began. I have been pushed by an outside world to move my roots. To sever my lineage in order to survive. <div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I have been told that I am not enough to be the keeper of this skin. I must find a home elsewhere from the spirit the ancestors brought me in. Discomfort with the unknown, I tell them. This is why you fear. I am pushed out all the same. My voice is muffled by my tolerance for adapting. I leave my heritage to find another. To silence their tantrums. To silence my voice so I may save my body. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I am a refugee. Looking for a home. Adopted everywhere I go, and knowing I am the only home I will ever need. It is my choice. Mine has been forgotten long ago. I am a refugee. I carry my home. And try to see Home everywhere I go. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Loud noises disguised as power, push us out. They are much too weak to sit with their own disdain. They dress us in their disdain's costume and then act horrified at the sight. Lashing out and pulling history's roots. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
They don't know our blood is in the soil. </div>
<div>
They don't know we are the nucleus of this breathing organism. </div>
<div>
We are refugees on the surface. </div>
<div>
We are the source of all in the underbelly of this life. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I am a refugee. Mother Earth moves me. She is asking us to wake man up. To heal her for our own good. She cannot nourish our bodies and souls while we abuse her. Don't they see that pushing source leaves darkness in their wake? What is left when Earth herself becomes a refugee from the land you steal?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I am a refugee. My soul freed itself from your economic enslavement. Seeing beyond your nose is the most assured way for flourishing. We are not here for you. We are here for each other. Global citizens. We will devour your boundaries with the love we have for each other. We will rise up and settle into lands wherein our souls answer to song. Our roots run deeper than your greed. We are forever connected and solidified in integrity. You cannot destroy us. We will rise taller. Louder. United. The only suppressed voice will be that of darkness. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Yes, we are refugees. Not victims, but refugees of your broken systems and greedy policies. We are refugees of hatred and short sightedness. We are refugees of small hands that will not extend to lift my brothers and sisters up. We are refugees of all inhuman acts. We are refugees, kept from our home and from each other long enough. We have had enough. This is our planet. These are our sacred lands. Our sacred waters. Our divine ecosystems and animals. Our sacred relationships with one another. Our HOME. </div>
Jocelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02222629927957366787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3672587841278081098.post-48821093500822895352018-03-20T22:56:00.001-07:002018-03-20T22:56:07.331-07:00Aging <br />
This tenderness of aging. <div>
<br /></div>
<div>
A communion of surrendering into self. </div>
Jocelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02222629927957366787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3672587841278081098.post-45540114503036323942018-03-20T22:53:00.001-07:002018-03-20T22:53:10.451-07:00Walk Through <br />
The time has come, darling<div>
Your restless desire has grown too vivid to pretend those patterned ways are necessary </div>
<div>
The call is clear</div>
<div>
And this time; This time, you shall cross</div>
<div>
You will leave the staleness of your imposter behind and finally answer the beaconing heart</div>
<div>
Expand those lungs to quell anxieties of constriction </div>
<div>
They will life and float your rooted feet</div>
<div>
Dare to open that heart beyond the borders you have drawn</div>
<div>
It is time to honor it</div>
<div>
The heart is designed to hold so much more you have ever entrusted it to hold </div>
<div>
Only then will you trust the vastness of another heart; to finally melt and be held. </div>
<div>
Give in to the clear longing for love that consumes</div>
<div>
It is the only love worth fully surrendering to </div>
<div>
Offer your soul as the artist it has been begging you to be </div>
<div>
Life awakens with your devotion </div>
<div>
It brings offerings in recognition of the undercurrent of your veins </div>
<div>
Towards a life you have tasted in your secret desire </div>
<div>
A life you have always wanted as yours</div>
<div>
Finally declaring the mystery and the always-known, in time to greet you</div>
<div>
As yours and yours alone </div>
<div>
The tender meeting of yourself </div>
<div>
Walk through, my sweet</div>
<div>
Walk through </div>
Jocelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02222629927957366787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3672587841278081098.post-69634694812451325072018-03-20T22:43:00.002-07:002018-03-20T22:43:16.640-07:00Yes<br />
We are more afraid of feeling fear than navigating the heights themselves. We hesitate to allow mysteries of new sensations. Not because it is difficult or loaded with strife. Not because it is a painful threshold to cross. Not even because we have no guarantee of our hopeful result. <div>
<br /></div>
<div>
No. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We pause and stare at the unfolding ahead because we know it is an effortless surrender; and in an instant, the familiar would forever change with our whispered, and oh so excitedly declared, 'yes'. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I keep coming back to this: </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
What is there to fear when we are so deeply rooted to this Earth? The highest of heights will be our new shelter. The ground will rise up to meet our feet. It is nothing new. Simply that time time, this season, it is. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Our spirit has always held us at our landing and it will never stop encouraging us to fly. </div>
Jocelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02222629927957366787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3672587841278081098.post-34322383484760954832018-03-20T22:17:00.002-07:002018-03-20T22:17:23.104-07:00AgainYou'd do it again<br />
You'd try again<br />
Even though you lost the idea of what you had<br />
Even though you landed on a different planet<br />
You'd try again<br />
Kicking and screaming, you would<br />
This time<br />
This time you would lean back<br />
You recognize that there are no reigns to hold<br />
No powering through<br />
Show up softly and clearly<br />
Be present when life steps forward<br />
It will<br />
<br />
It does every time<br />
Show up with knees knocking and heart pounding<br />
Show up with spirit yearning and eyes thirsting<br />
It won't be what you think<br />
It will always be better and smarter<br />
It will be exactly what you need<br />
and nothing like what you would have done for yourself<br />
<br />
Do it again<br />
Living, really living, demands it<br />
<br />
It will feel like madness<br />
Footprints you have never left before<br />
Unexplored lands<br />
Under the new sensation; it's still you. It will always be you.<br />
You will never be lost enough to lose the traces on your hands or the map in your eyes<br />
<br />
Open again<br />
Try again<br />
Be Loved<br />
AgainJocelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02222629927957366787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3672587841278081098.post-68395785684568358882018-03-14T23:53:00.003-07:002018-03-14T23:53:52.830-07:00How could I? How could I be this naïve to ask for love?<br />
To pray for its softness and fire so that I may melt all of me, finally into you<br />
How could I be so foolish to ask for love when I wouldn't know love other than a fantasy?<br />
A dream I dream every night and most days, because the more I unravel and see of myself, the clearer you get<br />
<br />
How could I dare beg of the stars and study the tides for your coming, when I have never felt your arms around me, fingers intertwine, or my head on your chest?<br />
When I can hardly remember how it feels to find home in anothers' heartbeat. <br />
<br />
<br />
How could I? How can I possibly sing or write or color the pages of a wish for you when i haven't felt the kiss of your mouth upon mine?<br />
When I haven't lured or been lured into another's soul properly and feverishly<br />
<br />
I know nothing of love<br />
I beg the Gods of its grace but I know nothing<br />
To anticipate your love is a disservice to it<br />
Asking for an idea of a force far greater I could conjure, and yet it is a human's condition to salivate at the thought of food<br />
<br />
I have wondered about this deep love<br />
A thirst quenching messy hair lost in heaven kind of love<br />
Shake life alive again<br />
That kind of love<br />
And here I go again, giving words and context to a person, a spirit yet to declare itself<br />
<br />
Thanking you before you have even obliged.<br />
<br />
How could I be this naïve to float at the thrill of you when your entrance has yet to be made?Jocelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02222629927957366787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3672587841278081098.post-51977218901218318702018-03-14T23:37:00.001-07:002018-03-14T23:37:28.662-07:00Desire <br />
Oh, Desire. <div>
You propel me forward and my impatience plays its tricks. </div>
<div>
I question your arrival. </div>
<div>
I question my worthiness of you, pointing to the time it has taken to receive you. </div>
<div>
The expectation, questioning a Divine inevitable unfolding. </div>
<div>
Measuring my value against the mounting expectations between sun rises and sets.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Then again, creativity can only live where unfinished process exists. </div>
<div>
As I am. </div>
<div>
As we all are; Divinely unfinished</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Creativity is given life in the space of the unresolved. </div>
<div>
Isn't the defined, where possibility ends? </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
If we are to meet our desires, may it be with an exhilarating reflection of the endless possibilities in each of us. May we only know of our desires by following our overflowing joy of unearthing curiosities. May we fall in love with our mysteries. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The greatest desires meet us as though we have known them our entire lives; and they simultaneously become a gift far greater than we could have designed for ourselves. </div>
<div>
We trust the wonder at our feet. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm learning. Desire, I'm finally learning. </div>
<div>
Allowing a timing that shocks our logical minds and inevitably knocks our socks off. </div>
<div>
Allowing to keep growing with space and connection; </div>
<div>
silence and touch. </div>
<div>
The unknown and felt. </div>
<div>
Living and breathing. </div>
<div>
Never fully arriving. </div>
<div>
Forever unfolding...</div>
Jocelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02222629927957366787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3672587841278081098.post-23516300897279620012018-03-14T23:22:00.004-07:002018-03-14T23:22:48.468-07:00As It Was - As It Came to Be <br />
Don't let the voices steer you away<div>
Especially your own </div>
<div>
Do it now</div>
<div>
Before you are even close to ready</div>
<div>
At the onset of the vision </div>
<div>
Do it all too seemingly prematurely </div>
<div>
That is where you allow the magic to find you</div>
<div>
Where the reason is most pure</div>
<div>
Directly connected to your essence </div>
<div>
Where the heart is loudest </div>
<div>
Before the virtue of the mind takes over and alters its form;</div>
<div>
stagnating all opening</div>
<div>
Honor the Divine calling in its glory by obliging </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
A moment's pause in pondering the outcomes will only vanish the possibility. </div>
<div>
And oh, what a bitter taste and robbery of a heartbeat, when the moment has passed. </div>
<div>
The moment, leaving you, just as you abandoned it by waiting in vein. </div>
<div>
Regret is a muddied tunnel, useless in visiting. </div>
<div>
A mouthful leaving you hungry. </div>
<div>
Lest when its ghost insists on paying a visit, as a gift for the next time you should hesitate to taste the dream dripping from your chin. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
What I could have been. </div>
<div>
How tall I could have grown. </div>
<div>
How gracefully I could have lived. </div>
<div>
I ignored the best parts of me. </div>
<div>
I clipped my wings. </div>
<div>
I sewed my tongue. </div>
<div>
Music for on one else to hear; turned into factory inspiration hymns. </div>
<div>
I hid. </div>
<div>
I hid my one precious spirit. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Have I forsaken you? </div>
<div>
Tell me how I can love you. </div>
<div>
How can I begin to repair the silencing I have made of you? </div>
<div>
The oppression I projected onto you. </div>
<div>
How can I proclaim your beauty to the world? </div>
<div>
I hope I can help your fair skin trust in the sun again. </div>
<div>
Tell me were to begin again. </div>
<div>
In the delicate sweetness of ripe nectar already lived. </div>
<div>
Guide me to raise the ground to meet your footing. </div>
<div>
I am here. </div>
<div>
I am finally here. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This balance; Acknowledging as life is here now, dancing with this friction. </div>
<div>
The questioning of what could have been, pulling away from what is. </div>
<div>
Back and forth, pulling away from feeling unsettled. </div>
<div>
Only to someday notice that this seemingly backwards force, was actually positioning for a trajectory towards your evolution. </div>
<div>
Finding yourself elsewhere where you thought you would be. </div>
<div>
Finding yourself where a soul more expansive than you had envisioned</div>
<div>
You were destined to meet this moment now. </div>
<div>
Where the tenderness of what could have been, bows to life as it was. </div>
<div>
Where with every breath, you discover yourself allowing a new life to happen for you. </div>
<div>
In your honor </div>
<div>
As it came to be</div>
Jocelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02222629927957366787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3672587841278081098.post-10312481600783686552018-03-14T22:54:00.002-07:002018-03-14T22:54:20.739-07:00Honoring OurselvesMy son was born an artist. I've felt it long before I had the proof by watching him. Before we met, I knew. He is a wonder. Feed him love and watch him fly. He comes alive when he expresses himself. He lights up. When he creates by playing a part, or speaking in an accent, or making up a song, there is no right or wrong. In that moment, his life is his. His spirit is untouchable. His Universe belongs to no one else. He hides it from no one.<br />
<br />
He's been drawing lately and he's good. Remarkably good. This isn't just mama talkin'.<br />
<br />
Lately, his head has been interfering with his process. He stops, gets frustrated, shuts down, and starts measuring his value. He says he can't draw. He succumbs to the questioning he's confronting. He does that with math. Always a right and a wrong answer. His heart doesn't speak that language, you see? He overwhelms himself at the thought that he needs to be a certain way under certain subjects. It's not natural to him. It's not natural for any of us. We have just forgotten.<br />
<br />
My heart breaks. It breaks because I can easily relate to the feeling. I realize that it's my adult relating to the growing person inside of him. I recognize that I'm observing my child filling with fog, we adults work so hard to clear. The fog of questioning and worrying about our worth. The fog that freezes us from being freely us. We become experts at watching it come and fanning it thinner. If we even find the courage to try at all.<br />
<br />
It becomes my duty to remind him. To open a window. To bring him back to what will always be true. This is the child we need to continually nourish and listen to. The knowing voice we must allow to lead the way.<br />
<br />
You are enough.<br />
<br />
Please make art with your life and tell us about it. Surprise yourself. You are a wonder. A continuously unfolding masterpiece. Let the unknown guide you. an exquisite life is in living the questions. Playfully. Imperfectly. A child does not measure how much they don't know. They laugh at the nonsense of mistakes. They find themselves in awe of what they discover at their feet. May you bow to your inner child; always in awe by what is at yours.<br />
<br />
'...to the child whom this grown-up once was. All grown-ups were children first. But few of them remember' ~ Antoine De Saint-Exupery ~ The Little Prince<br />
<br />
I hope you allow yourself a lifetime of rememberingJocelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02222629927957366787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3672587841278081098.post-4308747438247001222017-01-01T20:56:00.001-08:002018-03-14T22:23:32.487-07:00Bohemian <br />
Choose again.<br />
<div>
Begin again.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
With your open heart. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
With your brave love. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Create what you want to see. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We are free. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We don't need to compensate for a past that is no longer. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Start anew. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Equipped only with knowledge that experience brings. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Let that be your guiding light. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This life you have tasted. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Gather up the art you desire. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Decorate your world as you've dreamed it. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
You were born for this. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Not for the life you lived yesterday, but for the breath you are given right now. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Begin again. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
With every breath, begin again. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Much Love, </div>
Jocelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02222629927957366787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3672587841278081098.post-20055385295102704352017-01-01T20:39:00.000-08:002017-01-01T20:53:08.125-08:00Steps<br />
One step in front of the other.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
That's all. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The rest is not up to you. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Now go. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Let that beautiful heart of yours lead the way. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The universe will say yes, darling. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Every time. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
All you have to do is ask. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Ask and show up for your answer.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Much Love, </div>
</div>
Jocelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02222629927957366787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3672587841278081098.post-87163656027497324072017-01-01T20:35:00.001-08:002017-01-01T20:35:56.228-08:00Dear Love, Dear, Love. It is there. We will meet in that space where we don't seek. The timeless place where we don't work or perfect. It is where desire becomes a curiosity without attachment. It is the playground of visions and admirations, free from burdensome results or voids to be filled. A space where I actually forget all about you, love, by the purposeful distraction of living joyfully.<br />
<br />
I cannot seek for you when I am pouring my heart onto the page before me, and living in abandon of any time and measure. This holy space, where I give of myself free from the hesitation that judgement brings. You see, it is the same hesitation that has stalled our love. I release it and live in the lightness of experience without strategy. It is where the flow of life captures me and I willingly unravel to its unknowns. There, where love intoxicates my breath, with all of its chaos and uncertainty.<br />
<br />
Our art is a rebellious laugh in gratitude that spirit is finally leading the way. It is there, in that space of clearing where we shall meet. Because in that liberation of celebrating what brings us life, we can see for miles. And though we may have exchanged many times in passing, this my sweet, is the sacred space where love becomes, us.<br />
<br />
<br />Jocelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02222629927957366787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3672587841278081098.post-75581222270008115212017-01-01T20:27:00.003-08:002017-01-01T20:27:19.509-08:00Future <br />
I'm flirting with the notion of falling in love with not knowing.Jocelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02222629927957366787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3672587841278081098.post-81596453749425384662017-01-01T20:26:00.001-08:002017-01-01T20:26:31.899-08:00Thanksgiving <br />
Today is your day. To those who have crossed my path. The gratitude I celebrate is because of you. You are my friends, and by virtue of your love, my family. Home. <div>
Today is all about you. Your second birthday. Because this friend would not be where she is without you. And life is particularly amazing with you in mine. </div>
Jocelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02222629927957366787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3672587841278081098.post-45434921067498535052017-01-01T20:24:00.002-08:002017-01-01T20:24:35.207-08:00Light <br />
The healing power of light, surrendered laughter, and untethered love. <div>
<br /><div>
Without your permission, joy evaporates the heaviness. Turning the load of the impossible feat you carried, into nothing else but finding yourself here. Now. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
These moments, no matter how small, have been known to give freedom to hope. They have released the declaration for good! Despite the thick surrounding, giving way to the light still in you is an assured reminder of its shameless power. Joy sends you off with a smirk and a calm knowing, you will move forward. You will take a mightier step, right where you left off. </div>
</div>
Jocelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02222629927957366787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3672587841278081098.post-75859722589015293442017-01-01T20:20:00.002-08:002017-01-01T20:20:23.912-08:00I rise Out of the huts of history's shame<br />
I rise<br />
Up from a past that's rooted in pain<br />
I rise<br />
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,<br />
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.<br />
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear<br />
I rise<br />
Into daybreak that's wondrously clear<br />
I rise<br />
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,<br />
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.<br />
I rise.<br />
I rise.<br />
I rise.<br />
<br />
~ Maya Angelou<br />
<br />
I give myself. I extend my hand. I offer my sweat to lift the chins of those who have kept their down for far too long; for those who get through he day to afford their survival.<br />
<br />
I offer my gifts inspiring purposeful living.<br />
I loudly brave my heart, bowing to the meaning through my art; i will lift you until you find some through your own.<br />
<br />
I give my voice for those who have lost trust on its landing.<br />
<br />
I will speak loudly for those whose hearts' whispers have been muffled by posturing speakerphones.<br />
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I give myself.<br />
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I give my humanity.<br />
Though it's been tested and battered. My spirit stands taller than my bones.<br />
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I shall rise above the prostitution of integrity chose for the mirage of safety.<br />
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I shall rise above the reaction of fear and the intimidation against equality.<br />
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Noise cannot dampen my wings.<br />
It will not disturb my peace.<br />
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This thunderous spirit will emerge to meet yours in our healing.<br />
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Love will overwhelm to the mind's doubt and to the heart's surmise.<br />
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I rise.Jocelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02222629927957366787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3672587841278081098.post-4230908368999154712017-01-01T20:12:00.000-08:002017-01-01T20:12:07.785-08:00Be a Blessing in Someone's Life <br />
Be a blessing in someone's life. <div>
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You will ease any questions relating to your purpose on this planet, when you lead with this intention. You will never know how many living beings have been deeply touched because of you. You may never truly grasp how expansive the wonder you radiate. </div>
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It is not for you to quantify. </div>
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Your magic is sparked by your trust. </div>
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Be a blessing in someone's life. It is the heartbeat of all meaning. </div>
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There, you will find the blessings in yours. </div>
Jocelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02222629927957366787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3672587841278081098.post-36947475703398223892017-01-01T20:08:00.002-08:002017-01-01T20:08:41.629-08:00Questions <br />
A question is the birth of a whispered answer, yearning to be seen. <div>
Listen. </div>
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Trust. </div>
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It will appear. </div>
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Let Silence find you. </div>
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Or better yet, be so overwhelmed by noise, yours or external, that you seek the richness of quietude. </div>
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Allow my restless mind to find peace so that my heart may speak its purpose. Oh gentle heart, remind me that opening is the only way to see and to be seen; to love and to be loved. </div>
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It is the epicenter of our existence. </div>
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In the despair of the discomfort, remind me that my body responds as it is told. </div>
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In silence, the whispers of intuition can melt the brick and mortar I carry around as a body. Noise makes for heavy wings. And flying deems a lightness and a conviction, leaning into the unknown; leaning into those relentless winds. </div>
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Embody your questions and brave an answer. Hesitation delays our experience of your medicine. Radical love is needed. Declared empathy and compassion cannot exist without your oxygen. Our presence of light must be louder than the shadows of fear.</div>
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Love can melt steel. </div>
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Love can transform. </div>
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We are starved for it, and aching to give it away. Live the exchange now. It is how we shrink the suffering. We must stand united in the transformation of uplift and compassion. Loudly. Mending wounds. Deflating darkness. Creating a new possibility. </div>
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We are the answer. A supported collective. Honoring life by creating with the same paint brush that created us, and all living beings. We are the call to any question. </div>
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Jocelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02222629927957366787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3672587841278081098.post-85677953819006989822017-01-01T20:01:00.003-08:002017-01-01T20:01:47.653-08:00Risk Your Tender Heart <div style="text-align: center;">
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<i>Risk your tender heart</i></div>
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<i>I promise it's worth it </i></div>
Jocelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02222629927957366787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3672587841278081098.post-38351227175493565692016-09-21T21:18:00.001-07:002016-09-21T22:48:14.028-07:00Beauty in the Marrow <div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i>Your experience with beauty is a reflection of what resides within you. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Beauty offers layers to the senses. It provides pleasing, light physical responses. Beauty can also seep under your skin, conducting hairs to stand on ends, and instantly awakening the most silenced places of you; handing you back your spirit on a grander scale. Beauty does that. It is not merely there to give. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i>Beauty is there to meet you where your safety ends, and where desired territory begins.</i> It is meant to race your heart rate and flush fresh life into spaces you had forgotten exist within you. Beauty awakens the spirit; empowering it with a magnificent validation of its existence. It is asking you for your participation. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">There is the perception of beauty and then there’s the actual experience of it.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We can draw such sweet nectar from our flirtation with Beauty. Taking from it what we seek, to fill our hunger in that moment. Imagine if our relationship with the beauty we perceive or actually experience, is a direct correlation to where we stand in relationship with ourselves. It is a lure for our spirit to connect. First with ourselves, so that we may then feel another. Beauty can overwhelm our love if we allow the exchange. If we allow our place in its dance, beauty will remind us that which is truly seen, must be felt. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i>I say, go on. Be overwhelmed. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">At times, there is a separation. We perceive our focus through innocent and young eyes. Observation in a swift scan admiring what has shown up for us. This sort of youth carries a beautiful existence of living on the surety of inexperience; dancing in the narrow spotlight of the visible. It is a state of being, without truly knowing its juxtaposition. It is trust without questioning its value. Seeing with the eyes reveals a beauty that comes with a confident faith that exists without resistance, questioning, or leverage. There is no intimacy with faith when we are seeing at face value. We call it beauty even still. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">With a slight pause for opening however, beauty senses your invitation. It offers you no option but to dance with it until you speak. It will sit with you until you say, ‘yes’. It is relentless in it’s quest to realize that what you see is the innocence and magnitude of the small child within, poking the tenderly protected grown up you have become. There is more to observe. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Before you can even begin thinking you have control, beauty has already swept you off of your feet and claimed your heart. Not without your permission, of course. Beauty will meet us as far as we are willing to meet it. It is a living energy engaging our senses, and touching us only as much as we are willing to be touched.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">As truth-teller, activist for change, and mentor of mine, Sean Corn, says <b>‘See the Soul’</b>. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i>There is no denying what the heart can see. When you see the soul, beauty is in the marrow of everything. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The true observation of another is love. What do you see? Ask yourself again after each answer. What do you see now? Each question triggering your version of the object’s experience. Compassion surfacing the surrender of bias and assumption. And now what do you see? Each question valiantly soft in the acceptance of what is right in front of you. Each question, a step closer to a direct connection between you and another soul. How you see, reveals what resides within you. Are you willing to risk getting to know yourself? </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">See the Soul. It transforms you first. See the Soul. Compassion is fostered, and a gateway to a richer understanding opens. See the Soul. Love now has the unobstructed space for exchange. You stand equally as transparent as the beauty in front of you. Reflections of one another. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i>And in that space, beauty speaks. The experience of beauty begins. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">'I love you for your journey. I love you for who you are in it. I release the imposition of my projection onto you, which denies your truth. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I give you space and myself patience, to observe; To see you as the spirit you’ve held, healed, and unearthed yourself to be, in the wilderness of your life’s path. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I have no interest in fixing you. I have come to understand we are not beings to be fixed. We are combinations of dynamics we can’t fully grasp; sometimes holding our breath to seem more put together; sometimes yelling in freedom; sometimes hiding, and sometimes shining joy with the liberating recklessness of abandoning our programming. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i>So you see, I have no interest in adjusting our brokenness. I only wish to see you. I want to listen to your story if you’ll share it. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I want to love you for the trust you have or don’t have in this world. I waiver, too. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I want to feel closer to you for the human you are, and the light you carry. I want to see how it shines in the darkest corners of your spirit. I’ll show you where the embers of my trust glow when I can't see. I want to love and caress the tenderness I see that you sometimes try so hard to hide. It rises to the surface and disarms me, when I look into your eyes. I understand because I too know the fear that comes up for me, when all I want to do is melt and surrender all effort.'</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">This is where beauty lives. This is the peak. You’ve reached it. It doesn’t matter if the crutches were thrown out in an infuriating tantrum, or in an enlightened peaceful moment. It doesn’t matter if we swiftly accepted our need to not have to continue with our story, or if it was just too damn painful to keep at it, so we abruptly stopped. What matters is that we opened to something larger than ourselves. We found love and beauty in the process of piercing through; knowing we are worthy of something greater. We are worthy of experiencing beauty. We are worthy of recognizing ourselves in another. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">This exchange; in relationship to one another; regardless of its form and texture, is the presence of love. It is a felt beauty, seen with the heart. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i>It is connecting souls. </i></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Beauty resides there; in</span></span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"> the marrow of our spirit. </span></span></i></div>
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Jocelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02222629927957366787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3672587841278081098.post-38775863548224990992015-11-21T22:34:00.001-08:002015-11-21T22:42:06.142-08:00This is our healing <h1 data-reactid=".1.1.0.0.2.1.0.0" style="border: 0px; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Let us surrender to love, my friend. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Tell me, where is your wound? I feel the ache. We will both carry unease until we let the light in. You see, there is no separation between your cuts and my healing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">No barrier between love and the void of it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Are we not all breathing the same air? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Under the same sun? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Cradled by the same moon? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Narrow the distance so we can see we are not what we fear of each other. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">I surrender to love, my friend. </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">I cannot see without your light. </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">This is our healing. </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">This is our reason for being. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Don't you marvel how we all define joy because we share the same sensation?</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Have we all not shed tears? Your tears are made of the same elements as mine. </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Does your smile not come without thought and is its shape not the same as the lift of my lips?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Down to the detail. Down to the nails, to the hair, to the teeth, and tongue that can taste the bitterness of what is not right. It can also taste the sweetness we all crave and enjoy. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">We are all in search of the same sweetness. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">We are the same, you and I. </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Tell me, where is your wound? I feel the ache. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Let us surrender to love, my friend. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">When we stop scratching away at our own skin, we will realize that we cannot make an enemy out of a brother. We cannot blame fear on our sister. Anger and sadness is housed in our own skin. It is up to us to cleanse what we hold. We are the same. We are one organism. The disparity and separation we create is reflective of the disparity and separation within ourselves. The distance we observe in another is the exact bridge we need to build to extend our love.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Someday, you too will need a bridge to reach for you. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">We are the same. </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal; min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Rather than pushing away and creating boundaries, in times like these; at all times, we need each other most. To heal is to surrender to love. To thrive is to face the truth that there is no separation between us. Where is the wound, my friend? I too have felt it. I too have suffered. We need the other equally. It is no coincidence our bodies are symmetrical. It is no accident that we are mirrors images. We are no accident; structural and molecular walking miracles. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">We will always shed each others’ tears. We carry each others’ pains. We are freed by each others’ joys. We are one organism, finding peace within. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">We are the same, you and I. </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Tell me, where is your wound? I feel the ache. </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">I surrender to love, my friend. </span></div>
</h1>
Jocelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02222629927957366787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3672587841278081098.post-53796338268717397902015-11-21T22:00:00.000-08:002015-11-22T00:02:24.402-08:00unearth me <div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
maybe that’s what has been stalling me<br />
maybe i’ve been distracting; digging depths around me<br />
finding roots that aren't mine<br />
looking for answers in places; not of this time<br />
<br />
maybe I’ve been wedging distance from the heart of it<br />
wanting to fall in love with something outside of it<br />
asking the world to unearth me<br />
maybe i’ve been afraid of falling<br />
in love with me<br />
<br />
nothing would ever be the same<br />
this gated heat; a breath away from flame<br />
I would burn flying wildfire<br />
done with silencing the breath beneath the shame<br />
oh, my wild heart unleashed under love’s powerful spell<br />
<br />
i’ve been wishing to fall in love<br />
to burst open<br />
wanting love to unearth me<br />
maybe i’ve been afraid of falling<br />
in love with me<br />
<br />
witness the unbound roots<br />
the cracking open of ground<br />
taking the first sip of sky<br />
passion beyond reasoning ideas beyond the shackles of design<br />
will beyond anyone’s need to confine<br />
<br />
don’t fear your own light<br />
shadows larger than you<br />
heart mightier than the mind<br />
<br />
maybe that’s what has stalled these yearning dreams<br />
maybe that’s what has frozen me to follow through<br />
wanting love to unearth me<br />
maybe i’ve been afraid of falling in love who I know to be<br />
<br />
i would fly so fast and far<br />
there would be no turning back<br />
if i lived for the spirit inside,<br />
i would be a recluse for change - i would take no direction and live outside this cage<br />
i would have unearthed what took years to dim<br />
i would fall in love with me.<br />
extend my hand and it would be the beginning of everything.<br />
<br /></div>
Jocelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02222629927957366787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3672587841278081098.post-21303882722823954402015-11-11T21:16:00.000-08:002015-11-11T21:16:04.709-08:00Remind me<span style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 15px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">Remind me dear spirit. Remind me when the wind comes again and I mistake the bending at my roots with weakness. Remind me that this sway and fluid body is not survival or proof that I can't keep it all in order. Remind me that it's not my job. Predictability is a staged and forced state, robbing our breath of its existence as our guide. </span><br />
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Remind me gentle heart. Remind me that when I want to surrender all effort, it is not a sign of failure or a display of life's lack of love towards me. When my heart is weary, remind my heartbeat that it is merely time to rest. I am being reminded to fall into surrender and unclench the struggle. Oh gentle heart, remind me that opening is the only way to see and be seen; to love and be loved. It is the epicenter of our existence. </div>
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Remind me of faith, graceful soul. This body hasn't carried you for very long. It forgets that the earth always cradles my body; securely firming up into me. Falling is merely an illusionary sensation. Remind me to allow myself to be held by our Mother Earth. She always has us. This body frets about the unknown. Remind me that you always know the way. Faith and trust are tickets to the next and it is up to me whether I choose to enjoy the ride or worry along the way. We end up at the same place regardless, through to the next reveal, that all is well. All is always well. Remind me, graceful soul, to embody that knowing. </div>
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When I deny my flexibility and fight for a result, remind me that the pieces fall into place for my highest good. Remind my ego that possession is nothing but a mirage of safety. Remind me, my uninhibited spirit, that it is up to me how high I am willing to fly. How grand I am willing to feel joy in any circumstance. How much light I exude. How willingly I to trust that I am, enough. </div>
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In the despair of the discomfort, remind me that my body responds to my heart. Allow my heart to lead it through always. The body responds to the heart as if it had never been held down; as if it wasn't aware that it's wings were invisible. Like a lover's gaze in awe of your magic, the body can save the world with the heart behind it. </div>
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Remind me my compassionate soul, that my boiled anger is always welcome. That these fits of tears and resistance for what is, only bring me closer to peace. Remind me that my shouting to the sky in pain is why I am here. It is a conversation with God and a prayer to myself that needs to happen so that I may catch my breath, wipe my tears, and see the parted storms reveal the forgotten sky. Remind me however you can, that this life isn't meant to mirror anything else I've ever witnessed. There is no counterpart twin to this soul's path. And so, in my loneliness, remind me that I, in fact, am exactly where I need to be. I am accompanied by everything that came before me and everything standing by my side, so that I may be me, here. </div>
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In this hopeful breath, remind me always dear light in my belly, of possibility. When my fingers are numb and my sight blurry, remind me that time will come again when excitement will fill my lungs. Remind me that waves are meant to pull me back as needed for the next surge ahead and that you know exactly how much preparation I need to welcome that in. Remind me that my longings are heard and my spine caressed as my head bows down in doubt. Remind me at my root of knowing, that I have got this. I can do this and waiting for the tide of energy to come in will get me there. Oh fire at my core, remind me when I forget, how potent my drive is and how accompanied it has always been. Remind me it is all in my favor. Remind me I can and I will. </div>
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Gracious light, remind me of who I am when I am not brave enough to look into the mirror. Lift me up and hold me. Infuse love into my veins and cradle my overworked spirit. Breathe your sun into my chest, so that I radiate the warm glow that brought me here in the first place. </div>
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Remind me. </div>
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Jocelynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02222629927957366787noreply@blogger.com0