Nectar of the gods

Ahhh...nectar of the gods...that drink above all drinks. Brought to my trembling hands on the wings of an angel. That sweet concoction that makes my spirit sing. The soothing elixir for my aching soul. My enemy may surround me and threaten me but as soon as this liquid passes my lips, all is made aright. People may say things about me, some are true but many are not, but then why bother with regaling on my assets? They take my pain and make a farce out of it. But as soon as my cherub brings forth my divine nectar, life is worth living again. I shall recline and savor my mind calming potion. Life is good and all is well

. Ahhh my nectar of the gods....

Revenge only damns

Indignation is rearing its monstrous head. I know I am in such a better place but this flood of resentment comes at me out of no where. It is as though it stalks me and waits for that hesitation in my soul, a fleeting thought, and it attacks with a vengeance. Why attack me? Was I the dishonest one? Did I skulk around to devour the innocent? I still have my honor. I may not be perfect but I am who you see. Why do I suffer from these attacks of self pity when I am the victor? You say "you are only human" but I say "so is my attacker." Does that render the hurt void? So I stoically raise my head, I arm myself with my shield of resistance and I will live my life. Justice is fleeting and revenge only damns me. I refuse capture. I will overcome this obstacle and live to tell the tale. And we will all live happily ever after.

A Thing with Feathers

I saw a film once. Its purpose was to "scare my soul to salvation." Really, all it did was put my soul in a hopeless place. If that film was right, then all the atrocities were at hand and there was nothing I could do about it. I felt dead inside. Then something extraordinary happened. Spring came. My soul gasped at the sight of emerging life. It was spring again. That is what brought me back to the land of the living. My mother says that she doesn't like autumn because everything dies but all creation needs a naptime. Maybe that is what I have been doing. Restoration has been taking place. I have found a garden in me and it has been resting so that it can grow into something beautiful. My hope has returned. I am believing beyond today. I have weeded and fertilized and the seed has been sown. Hope grows eternal.
"Hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all..."
- Emily Dickinson

Shedding skin

I feel like a snake that is shedding its skin. I have let people get "under my skin" for so long so now, begone with you. I can feel the tightness of that lingering oppression start to loosen. I am not going to hold on to those people that have been against me for so long. I want to feel life, feel the passing breeze on my cheek that caresses me as that of my love. I choose to shed this ill-fitting skin and all the nastiness that lies underneath.
"I am the master of my fate;I am the captain of my soul."
-- William Ernest Henley

Voluntary displacement

What have I done? I have thrown away my maps. Not hidden, not misplaced, I have thrown them away. Is this what they call voluntary displacement? I have put my hiking shoes on and I am out the door. What made my life secure was making me miserable. That wasn't me so here I go. I've never been this way before but if I veer off the path or take a wrong turn you will look for me won't you? My mother always told me, "If you get lost, stay there and I will find you." I'm not really alone because I have you to care about me and want me to be the best I can be. I will keep my compass handy but my maps have been thrown away. Wish me luck.

Ordinariness

Sometimes it is the ordinariness of our lives that we find our peace. When trials and drama come along I need what I think of as "everyday stuff" to be able to focus on. Isn't it funny how something as simple as an iron could give me comfort? I remember when my mother would iron our clothes and linens. The smell of the steam and starch, the sticky warmness that belched out of the iron, it is this ordinariness of my life, the simpleness of being a child full of wonder, that gives me peace. I must be patient and embrace the waiting. Focus.

It's never too late

George Elliot: 'It's never too late to be what you might have been.' I feel like I have woken up from a bad dream. I am coming out of a cave of darkness and the warmth of the sunshine feels so tremendously good to me. I can breathe again. I did it. I quit the job where I was not wanted and I feel relieved. I didnt realize how intense the whole situation was but I feel like I can do anything now. I am free to be what I might have been if I hadnt quit school way back in the day. If I hadnt let "life" get in the way. "I coulda been a contenda" No I am a contender. Rejection is always hard to take but I have the best husband who has been in the "dark cave" and who believes in me. He wants me to be my true self. Isnt that what true love is? OK let's see what I can do with this wonderful opportunity. Just feel that sunshine!