Overcome

You have many options in life,
giving up is not one.
You will overcome,
Among all the current strife.

Offer it up to the Most High,
Envision that you will get by.
It takes much effort,
Sometimes it will hurt.
Take your time; stop and reflect –
allowing your Spirit to reconnect
With the Divine Life-giving energy
Bringing confidence that you have plenty.

Enter a meditative place –
Opening your heart – creating space,
Practicing resilience – that exercise
of not giving into the lies
That so often creep into your mind.
Reminding yourself that you are on time.
You are right where you need to be
and holding on too tightly
prevents you from being free.

When you choose to improve
your Higher Self shines through.
When you make the choice
to hear Truth’s voice,
you grow stronger,
you can press on longer.

It’s okay to feel down
You don’t need to let that stick around.
It’s up to you
it always has been
you just haven’t known.

Let go…
Float on with the springtime Breeze,
right along the honeybees;
Working hard for the common good of the hive.
Don’t ever think you need to hide.
Letting go of pride,
put the ego aside.

Plant those seeds,
watch them grow,
love them so,
remember to let them know.
And most importantly…

*breathe*

During the sunshine. it’ll be fine.
Let the rain wash away the pain.
Breathe in the air with the intention of care.
For yourself, for others
It’s to be found in the life around
that love is always surrounding,
sacred and grounding.

Remember all you are worth
from the energy that emanates from Earth.

You will overcome.

---

Offering
Vision
Effort
Reflection
Confidence
Openness
Meditation
Exercise

The Story of the Black Sheep

When I was a young lamb, I didn’t quite fit in. No matter how much I tried, I never seemed to belong among the other sheep in my flock. I wouldn’t say that the other sheep hated me, although they did not seem to like me or understand how to play with or talk to me. Whenever I asked why, they would say it was because I was not like them. They would all look at me and say that I was different. When I was an adolescent, I was often referred to as the “black sheep” of the flock, which confused me because I always believed that I was also white.
I slowly began to adapt this identity and, over the years, as I reached adulthood, I became more distant from the other members of the flock. I did not necessarily want to be reclusive, but it became more and more difficult to relate to everyone else. Whenever I tried to engage in group activities, it seemed as if I was intentionally ignored and sometimes told to leave. I felt very hurt by this and I eventually grew resentful of the way I was treated.
The land that we lived on was along a beautiful river. Everyone told me it was dangerous to stand at the water’s edge for long, but never told me why, so I ignored the warnings. Everyday I would go to the river, not only for a drink, but to also listen to what it had to say to me. After all, what did I have to lose? Sometimes I thought about throwing myself into the strong current, but resisted the urge to do so. I always felt as if the river was speaking to me, but could not quite make out what it was saying. I wondered if anyone else felt the same as I did. Whenever I tried to ask someone else if they heard the river speak, they’d look at me as if I was crazy.
“Rivers don’t speak,” they would say.
I would often push the thought of the river speaking to me out of my head. However, deep down within my being, there was something pulling me upstream. Not physically, but emotionally and spiritually. It was almost as if my heart and the river were connected.
One day, at the water’s edge, I noticed my reflection. I never did look at my reflection in the water before. I noticed the color of my wool was much darker than it was before. I realized something that day – my physical appearance was beginning to reflect my psychological identity.
When did I become so angry? I thought about when I was a little white lamb, playing alone and not minding my quirks and the fact that the other sheep did not pay attention to me. I was carefree and having fun regardless of their remarks. That all changed as I grew older; it bothered me everyday how they treated me like an outsider.
I felt the pull of the river again. Maybe it was trying to tell me that I needed some time away to become more accepting of myself and the way things were. Maybe there was something I needed to learn upstream; something about all of the anger that had been building up inside of me. Or, maybe, I would find somewhere that felt more like home.
“Maybe I don’t belong here anymore.” I said aloud as I looked upstream with a tear in my eye. When I said that, I felt sadness mixed with hope stir in me.
Early the next morning, I departed on my journey. I tried to tell some of the others that I was leaving, but they did not seem to notice or care that I was speaking to them. I followed the river upstream where there was plenty of shelter and food to eat. I felt a sense of danger but trusted that I would stay safe. After all, it was necessary for me to push forward on this quest.
I walked for three days along the river and slept on its banks during the night with the peaceful sounds of the rushing water lulling me to sleep. On the fourth morning, I thought I heard the sounds of other sheep. I wondered if I was being led to them by the river. I quickly got up onto my feet and walked to the edge of the woods. As I stepped to the other side of the tree line, it opened up to a big prairie, bigger than the one I had come from. I could not believe my eyes! It was filled with sheep! But, they were not the white sheep I was used to. All the sheep in the field were different colors and patterns. Blue, red, purple, yellow, polka dots, stripes, tie dye and much more.
“Hi, are you new!?” a small tie dye sheep asked me with a sparkle in her eyes.
“I just got here,” I responded shyly.
“Well, come on! Meet everyone. We don’t have anyone who is quite as colorful as you are!”
I wondered what she was talking about. I am black and white, not colorful. I asked what she meant as we walked.
“What do I mean? Go look at yourself!”
I stopped for a moment and looked towards the river.
“One second,” I said as I ran to the water. I peered in only to see a very colorful sheep staring back at me. Not only was I black and white, I was also every color of the rainbow. I was now intermittently striped with a color of the rainbow between each of the black and white stripes. Did my journey along the river transform me? I quickly answered my own question: by following the river, I was following my heart and that is what ultimately led me out of the dark; the dark of my anger and resentment. On my journey, I had slowly let go of my bad feelings towards others who ostracized me and treated me poorly. I also let go of the bad feelings I had towards myself. I hadn’t noticed during my time in the woods that a transformation of self was happening since I had been in survival mode. However, thinking back on it, I recalled feeling as if I was shedding old wool. When any bad feeling was resolved, I gained a new color.
I smiled at my reflection and looked back at the quirky flock I found. Many of the other sheep soon surrounded me and asked me questions about where I had come from and how I had gotten to the prairie. I shared my story along with my thoughts and new discoveries and they all seemed to understand.
Finally, someone who understands and listens to me.
Many of them even told me about their similar experiences. Every single one of them had followed their hearts to the prairie; whether it was in the form of the river, the wind, the birds, certain trees in the forest or even just a feeling. They had all been the odd ones in their flock who didn’t seem to quite fit in and all of which now considered this prairie their home. I, too, considered it home, despite the short period of time I had been there. I felt it deep in my heart that I finally found where I was meant to be. 

What is my takeaway from this experience? That one should listen to their heart and follow their intuition. I had once felt so alone, misunderstood and even hopeless. I used to wake up everyday wondering what the point of being alive was. I was unaware that I could ever feel so loved and have a purpose. The most important lesson I have learned is the one about forgiveness and of loving oneself. Each summer, we shed our wool and weave it into a giant tapestry, representing how we have grown. Our coats come back slightly different each time, signifying that we have learned more about how to love and what it means to be alive.

Mountain Spring

Some of my thoughts on love and our journey on earth. Followed with a story I wrote based from a prompt Aaron gave me. It turned into a collaborative piece with him writing the ending. Writing this short story was a blessing to me, I felt the need to share it sooner than later even though I haven’t completely “finished” it yet.
I have somehow become too busy to commit to my writing sessions. In revisiting this I am reminded that I need to make time.

Love one another. A lesson you must learn. Love for yourself is what comes after, but love for God comes first. However, these all coexist with one another. Your love is not full with only one and not the rest and when put to the test – push onward and believe. Learning how to love is a lifelong journey; loving in all humility and sincerity. Another lifelong journey – learning to be humble, in all aspects of life.

There are highs and lows in the journey
It’s not all travels along ridges or walks across the balds, with spectacular views, partly cloudy skies and a slight breeze carressing your body.
It’s downhills with aching, shaking knees and sore ankles, through thick forests and descents to open valleys.
It’s the neverending meadows with often no shade from the scorching sun.
It’s abrupt temperature changes, sometimes feeling like your own personal hell. However, remind yourself that you must walk through it all to get to your destination. You can see those glorious peaks in the distance and you will reach them in due time. After crossing over the well awaited river in the valley; the river that pours from the mountain spring.
“Mountain spring
Pour into my soul
When my days are tiring
I am empty, you make me whole”

I was tired. Taking a rest on a fallen tree, I told myself I wasn’t prepared for this yet. However, my longing for the water was strong, my desire deep. I was only six miles into the forest with about three more to go. I checked my watch – 2:27. I had made good time thus far, and did not have much time for a break. The sky overhead threatened a storm – those of which I had heard could be potentially life threatening if one found themselves caught in it. The rain would pour and accumulate out of the reservoir uphill, only to be released down in a fury of water. It was the same reservoir that was filled from the spring I was searching for. I finished my lunch and, a bit energized from my time sitting, pressed on up the trail. I had a second-wind.
I kept my eyes open for a shelter: one that would be safe from the storm. Another half-hour passed me by and I felt a raindrop tap against my nose. I stopped for a moment to look up. The sky darkened overhead as the rain increased, creating a pitter-patter sound on the leaves. The storm was knocking and I had no choice but to let it in. The rushing water would find me soon.
I continued with haste up the mountain with confidence that I’d find a safe haven soon. My thighs and lungs burned, my whole body begging for another break. I denied myself, I had to. Two miles to go, I whispered to myself between strained breaths. The rain became more aggressive within a short amount of time. Thankfully, my gear stayed dry. I was somewhat prepared for this, I suppose. I had been told that approximately a mile and a half to the top there was a hiding place. I had to press on through the rain, despite the possibilities of being washed out. I had no choice. Despite the undeniable danger of the storm, the rain remained magical, resembling a cleansing of sorts. A cleansing… similar to that of the one I would receive at the spring.
This was just the beginning, I reminded myself as I climbed as quickly as I could manage. My progress was gradual with the rain, the mud, and the incline, not to mention the elevation gain and my drenched shoes. A small creek was accumulating on the trail and I sensed that it would soon turn to the river I was warned of. My heart beat increased more so as my fear built up. Would I make it? My mind raced, questioning my efforts. Doubt began to creep in to my thoughts as I remembered something important – the berry bushes.
They said berry brambles occupy both sides of the trail, making it impossible to avoid the descending water. An obstacle on the trail, but they also promise the upcoming shelter. Hope began to swell in me. And then I saw it! Through blurry blinking eyes, I found the alcove carved into the rockface. I had to climb up to it and the slippery surface proved that challenging, especially with a heavy pack. I considered leaving it behind but I couldn’t be without it on my lengthy return to the base of the mountain. I said a prayer and grabbed onto the grooves in the rock formations. This had been done many times before. It was evident, as if a trail had been carved by those who had come before me. Tricky, but a trail nonetheless.
And then I heard it: the river rushing. The source of life, but number one cause of death on this trail. My heart pounded. I scrambled upward as carefully as it was possible. I reached the nook. My arms shaking, I managed to pull myself up and I was safe with perfect timing as I witnessed the most violent river rush by me, taking fallen branches with it. Thunder echoed through the leaves as lightning lit up the forest. It was powerful; unbelievable.
I removed my shoes and pack, and huddled under my blanket. I managed to start a fire, thanks to those who stocked this haven with dry wood. My adrenaline was intense and I knew I needed to eat but somehow didn’t have an appetite even after all the physical strain. I watched in disbelief at the phenomenon that was occurring, astonished that I was a bystander, not a victim. It is said that half of those who attempt to reach the spring either give up or… or don’t make it at all. I was not part of that half. I made it this far and now await the storm to pass. All who make it to the spring must endure the storm and by the time it passed, the sun was at the edge of the horizon. I was spending the night in the nook; a long night it was, with my mind racing and body still in survival mode. It was clear that I was, in all reality, prepared for this.
As the sun rose, I returned to the trail and consumed my share of the fresh berries before finishing that last mile and a half. I also spent several minutes foraging for fallen wood to replenish what I used. Terrain and situationally speaking, it was the easiest part of the hike. On the contrary, I was in a state of exhaustion. My entire body ached, my eyes drooped, my shoes were still damp. My pack somehow felt heavier even though it was lighter. My head in a fog, I navigated over the roots and rocks.
I reached the treeline shortly after sunrise, opening up the view to pink and orange skies. My eyes immediately directed towards the spring and the light hit it in the most glorious way, illuminating the source. I stood in awe of the water flowing out of that rock. I removed my pack and, more importantly, my shoes. I slowly proceded. The reservoir glistened as I approached. I touched the water.
The moment my fingertips made contact with the crystal clear surface, the chill of the water pulsated through my body and began to bring my senses back to life. In that moment, I realized that the water was alive. I reached my hand and, cupping my palm, I brought the medicine to my lips. I consumed the water with the reverence of my first communion. I looked up, my eyes now feeding off the becoming blue sky. I breathed deeply and thanked the Creator for not only the reward of the water and his protection but also for the obstacles he placed in my path in order to build my strength and as a reminder to not take life for granted. Suddenly, I heard a voice so close it seemed it was a tree who spoke with the words: “drink child.”

A land with no fences

Another throwback from 2015. Still remember when I was walking on the land I reside on when I thought of this.

 

I now roam a land, a land so vast, so open
A land with no fences, no boundaries.
Time and distance are no matter; they were only a portion of my imagination in the life before.
The paths my feet walk on are illuminated, the grass glows and sways each way in the gentle breeze, the same breeze that caresses my skin and flows through my hair.
The trees here are more majestic than the ones I once knew, the reflections of them stand on the crystal clear water before me.
I realize that I can no longer differentiate the sky and the earth – there is no up, there is no down; gravity does not exist here, nothing holds me to the ground.
My body is lighter, my vision is enhanced, my senses increased.
I encounter strangers I feel I once knew, but no longer recognize.
The one that I recognized, I have longed to meet since the day I was born. A familiar friend, a teacher, a leader, a hero of mine – I always knew within me, but never did see face to face. He approaches me, as tears of joy swell in my eyes. He says to me, “Hello friend, I am glad you are here. Welcome home.”
I am unable to speak, unable to move – except falling to the ground and weeping, but this time not in sorrow. This is the first time I have heard the words “welcome home” and felt it to be true. I am the happiest I have ever been.
“Stand; look at me,” a gentle voice speaks; a soft hand on my arm raises me up.
I look him in the eyes and with a light heart and a free spirit I say “Thank you.”

He told me: “I knew you before you woke up. Before your soul became conscious, I saw you, I held you. When you were conceived was the first time you awoke, birth was the second. Every year, at the same time, you opened your eyes more, until you reached death – now you are fully awake and you are truly alive.”

Floating through the forest

Original from December 12 ’15

I was floating through the forest, the bare trees surrounding me, my body small compared to their great stature. Dried leaves crinkle beneath my feet, my legs effortlessly carry my weight through the woods. Forward and onward. The sun peaks through just enough to work my skin. This is what I miss – finding freedom in the outdoors, surrounded by the Lord’s perfect art. In this setting, nothing more matters than the land to explore when the chains around the soul break and all desires and worries outside of these woods vanish. All I want is this.

The serenity, the unknown. The unending adventures that lie beyond.

Which ones followed are up to you. This is what you once dreamed of. There is much opportunity – just take the first few steps forward and the rest will come naturally. After you begin walking, even when you feel stuck, confidence keeps you going. Be relentless, wanderer, the less you give up, the more you find.
It’s courage that gets you over that first hill, fear that holds you back. The climb leaves you feeling challenged, don’t look back, that only going to slow you. Sometimes the downhill seems easier but only puts you at where you first began. Move on and over it. You won’t get far with those chains around your ankles, be free of them, be free to move.
Now you ascended from the valley, you are on the first ridge. Life is like a mountain climb, take it in segments, step by step…and most importantly, don’t forget to breathe and take time to soak in the views.

My mind wants to create

From… Sometime in 2015. Original, unrevised.

 

As I gaze amongst the vast plains,
A blank canvas set before me
My mind longs to create
To wander in different realms
Travel to distant lands
From the high mountains, to the low valleys
To the deepest depths, to the chasms and caves
Of the dark space that once appeared as an abyss, never ending, uninhabitable
I descend to the bottom and discover that it contains hidden treasures,
Treasures of my soul, of once unimaginable inventions within me
They stir, in powerful whirls,
as they push me forward and upward
And as I am ascending from the floor, flying out of the cavern,
Clouds of steam and glowing, glittering light surround me
I see the sun again, beyond the clouds
Illuminating them with all of his glorious life
I see the sun again, shining on me
Soaring in beauty and grace above all gravitational pulls
Which I once succumbed to in sedentary solitude
I am alive, I am free

April 2

I wrote this poem April 2nd and 3rd

The meaning is sinking in still, and I am learning from it.
I often times write things to myself, sometimes unintentionally. The words just come out and I take it as a sign of perfect design of the way life works. Writing has been a beautiful gift, I’ve learned much about my journey of depression through it. I’ve come more in tune with my soul and am seeking more. Oh, I have so much more to learn…

 

I’ve felt deep in my soul,
The need to project.
I’ve felt in my heart the pull;
But the necessity to protect
The constructive thought process of my mind.
To open up and let my words flow.
Experiencing life of a new kind;
Expressing why we need to let go

Let go… of our troubles, our worry.
When our brain is running a dark race,
Caught amidst a violent furry…
Slow down to a peaceful pace.

Born from the dust,
Remove your shoes and be one with your mother, earth.
Take a leap with trust…
Experiencing a new birth
Out of the womb of your past.
Moving on and accepting grace
Creating something that will last,
Exposing your true face.

Becoming aligned –
Mind, heart and spirit,
perfectly timed.
The voice is calling, can you hear it?
You’re a warrior,
Built to survive!
Ready for more,
Ready for the dive
Into a positive life.
Learning to be content
Amongst all the strife
Following the path from this journey of lent.

Sometimes you need your own space,
Sometimes there is a need to vent,
But put your complaints in their proper place.
Make your tongue a tool of love,
Not a weapon of destruction.
Put focus on the light above,
For without it you would not function.
Look towards that ascending dove,
Leading you with internal instruction.

Be aware and be fair!
The ones who hate you,
Love them even more;
Because agape love conquers all!
It has every time before,
Still remaining strong and tall.

Listen to the songs that your brother is singing:
Hopeful melodies.
And now you are fully believing
That the poems and music have the remedies
You have been craving.

So sing songs,
And dance along!
Because your heart is at rhythm
With a voice behind the beat,
it longs to be music, too;
To be poured out into beautiful notes,
To be words spilled out onto blank pages,
To be the sounds that fill the empty air…
Sounds that heal
and bond me to you;
a bond that brings us together.

Next time you feel blue,
Remember the nights spent on the porch…
Writing and listening.
To the frogs
And the crickets,
Singing along.
Here, how could you find anything wrong?
With faith continuously growing strong.

Gazing into the sun,
Preparing for a new day,
Intentions to make it a good one.
Only reciting words necessary to say,
This journey has only begun.
Everything will be okay…

or even better than okay.
and although I prefer it that way,
when I come to a day
when I feel torn apart
and don’t want to leave my house,
there is still a tomorrow…

and that tomorrow is today.

Good Friday

oh, much deep sorrow
that is experienced when
your people are torn

our hearts are forlorn
to us a savior was born
but we still chose war

yelling, “crucify!”
we sent the lamb off to die
from him was no cry

while he carried us
heavy burdens in the form
of his Holy Cross

with a new hope that
the nations would finally
unite in the light

within the silence
with kindness, he approached me
and spoke to my heart

“follow me,” he said
“speak softly and walk humbly;
practice forgiveness.

control your own tongue,
be mindful of your own speech,
learn how to listen.”

psilocybin

Found this gem while going through an old journal, and thought I’d share.
“I dug my fingers in the mud, feeling each and every small pebble within the soil
I reached down deep in the ground to find you, underneath the surface of the earth
I peered down the path before me as I sat naked on the fallen branch
My spirit surrendered as the forest closed in on the trail
The trees on either side danced as they reached for one another
They twisted and distorted in all sorts of different ways and shot out beams of light, side to side, up and down
I felt weightless, floating almost
Tears swelled in my eyes and I was happy
Smiled. Wide. Full of joy.
Because I am here on the earth that wants to love me all the time.
It wants me to feel it.
The atmosphere wants to embrace my body.
Colors among colors, subtle and vibrant.
In the multitude of layers in the sky.
Everything lives, everything breathes.
The rocks in the dirt, the bark of the trees, the stray branches and the moss blankets.
It is all living. It is all connected.
The earth itself is a connection to God. The earth is part of God. Yet we distance ourselves from what makes us feel real, what makes us feel alive.”

– Amanda Joly (Earthen Heart) 12/13/14