A kiss on the cheek
Soft and sweet
Or tongues deep
In secret communion
A hand to hold
While walking down the street
Or tightly between the sheets
While watching movies
A shoulder to lean on
A shoulder to offer
For whatever reason
Or none at all
Light cool rain
On a warm summer day
The way you glitter and shine
Any weather that keeps me in
Next to you
Tracing the curve of your spine
That sexy “Ssss”
With fingers or tongue
To places made for pleasure
Those incredible exotic spots
That cover you in constellations
Like a leopard
Your random mewl always makes me smile
And your purrrrr
Man I love your purr
There’s no question what you were
In a past life
Long nights in rockers
Chattering about rock stars
Dogs with sirens on their heads
There is no limit to the chatter
Making love all through the night
The scent it leaves on skin
Warmed by touch that never fades
Locked in eyes that never age
Held by love I freely offer
But my favorite thing of all
Is the place I keep
Image by Pille-Riin Priske
I left Mobile with a smile late in the afternoon yesterday after a last reshuffling of plans and unpacking/repacking of the car.
The original plan, based entirely on cautious habits acquired over the years, was to bring everything with me in case things didn’t work out.
I’ve gotten very good at eliminating all but the essentials. When I left ND to come here I left a fully furnished, down to silverware, toilet paper, and made bed house behind.
This time something had changed. I found myself wanting to load up everything and that wasn’t going to happen because it seems that when the wiring harness in my SUV melted down a few months ago it took out my trailer lights and I wasn’t about to risk another meltdown by attempting to repair them, which meant I couldn’t rent a U-Haul.
There was no way I was going to take everything with and that bothered me.
It wasn’t until a friend stopped by to send me off with a hug and a smoothie (Thank you, Professor!) and began pointing out things that I shouldn’t bother bringing with that it all began to make sense.
I was attempting to pack up something that is impossible to get into a box or a bag and I could spend the rest of my life trying to squeeze it into every available space I could find and never get it all in because its is larger than a $20 blanket or a rug I picked up from the curb:
I’ve spent so many years without a home that I forgot what it felt like. I even developed this inner philosophy that said wherever I go I’m always going home because the only sense of home I had for so long was the one I carried with me.
Over the last dozen years every time I’ve headed off to a job in the oilfield it eventually lead to another. Then another. And another. Until I ended up alone and isolated.
These things I’ve felt over the last week, the things that have kept me up at night, that frustrated and irritated, aren’t there because I feel alone.
I am not alone.
I have made strong friendships and have the support of people who love me as much as I love them.
The feeling isn’t that of being alone but of becoming alone, again, which is something that scares the crap out of me and keeps me up at night.
I had forgotten what it feels like to belong somewhere. I never would have guessed that place would be Mobile, Alabama and maybe it won’t be forever, but there it is, home.
So I unpacked everything and moved it all to the attic of the mansion I rent rooms in, much to the delight of the owners who were so honestly relieved and happy to know I would be coming back that they hurried to help me.
I left later in the day than I wanted but made it to Missouri around midnight.
When I looked in the back of my little Rodeo I saw that I brought so few things I had room to arrange a makeshift bed. I walked Brown Dog, the best traveling partner I could ever ask for, offered gratitude to the powers that be, shifted a few things to make enough room to stretch out in, then lay down and slept better than I have in days.
With a promise
You press softly
Against my cheek
Your dewy nectar
Sweet and musky
Fills my senses
Drives me on
To higher pleasure
Fingers touch and probe
To unfold the petals of the flower
Revealed before me
A delicate treasure
Open and inviting
In carnal sighs
Escaping parted lips
Honeyed tears flow
Urging me on
Burning with desire
Our lips touch
Tiny sparks of living passion
Arc between us
To light the secret space
That only we can travel
This night is ours
You pull me tight
With a shudder
You let go
But one of many
The rest will follow
Picture taken at Bellingrath Gardens.
Life is all about discovery.
When we are born we discover the most amazing things: the world develops before our very eyes and as we grow it expands as if we, ourselves, are the gods that create it moment by moment.
In our teens we discover complex emotions that threaten our very existence: rage, pain, immense joy and sadness, and, for the very first time, even though we may not recognize it for what it is, Love.
We go through school being taught pointless rhetoric: math, science, history. All the while being taught none of those things that could lead us to deeper paths; mindfulness, loving kindness, compassion. Those are supposed to be taught by our parents. Parents who never learned those things either.
Learn them. They will lead you farther than you imagine.
Later still, we discover that we wished we had learned more of those worthless ideas. Paid closer attention. What was that formula for finding the volume of a circle again? That will come in handy later. I promise you that. So pay attention if you can. But there’s more.
We discover the value of money. Of friendship and of hard work and of possession. We go into the world discovering fine food, good company, bright lights.
Too often people don’t make it past those last discoveries. They base their lives on the hedonistic values of life: a big house, a nice car, good clothes, physical pleasure. Discovery ends. Life has been explored and all that it offers has been found.
Discovery continues despite that belief. Our friends die. Our loved ones leave us. Our investments fail us. We discover loss, suffering, disappointment.
Those discoveries become empty. Meaningless. Superficial. Life becomes meaningless. Emotions become an intolerable consequence. A side effect of life.
If we are insightful, or have a fortunate predilection for it, or have a loved one willing to force our awareness, or we are just plain lucky, or unlucky, we push deeper. Struggle harder to find meaning.
Our path of discovery narrows to two distinct paths: inward or outward.
The outward path leads us to medical discovery. To miracle cures. To pills that end our suffering. To gurus and healers and shaman. The path can branch over and over from here but it always leads us to the discovery of the inward path though very very few can make that transition.
If you find yourself at that transitional fork in your path I hope, I truly hope, you find your way to the inward path. Reach into that place and you will find a hand willing to lead you farther than you ever imagined. I promise you that.
The inward path leads us to ever deeper discovery: understanding, self love, honesty, acceptance, awareness, unity, Love. True Love.
Discoveries that lead us to higher planes of existence. Planes where loss and suffering are accepted as simply a part of life and where the value of a single breath, drawn long and slow while listening to and feeling the beat of our own miraculous heart connect us to the very soul of the Universe, is beyond measure.
What we discover there can never be fully expressed in words but in that place are experiences outside the realm of comprehension and yet understood as if we were once again children creating, moment by moment, the very fabric of our own distinct, yet combined, reality.
My wish for you is this:
Continue your journey. Never cease in your struggle of discovery, because even further beyond that point lay infinity: a point of chaotic generation and regeneration of life where the distance between infancy and eons are but fractions of moments of the life of a single drop of moisture on a spiders web and all that we have discovered between birth and true life, the life that always awaits, that bekons and welcomes all, are a single reflection on the surface of that dew that shimmers a while before dropping into an endless ocean that rises as mist to condense on the web over and over again.
In that chaos of constant re-creation resides the Divine where She rests on this, the Seventh Day, with arms wide and welcome, to bring us into Her embrace.
It is a place of constant discovery and awe and wonder where a word as simple and complex as “Love” or “Gratitude” can define our very existence.
Though I tend to speak of it in terms of enlightenment and higher planes of consciousness it is not some mythical place reached only through lifetimes of deep meditation and study. It does not require the use of psychoactive compounds or healers or teachers.
It is here.
It is Now.
It awaits your discovery.
Close your eyes and breathe.
Image: “Infinity” by Tue Bengsston
Now is all we ever have.
But in this moment,
I can’t help gazing into the future
to see us,
looking back on us,
“Keep moving forward.”
We hold the keys to that future.
Unlocking that door
is worth the effort.
The day will come when we are together,
looking back at us,
“All you have is Now.”
Here at the edge of the world, where men reach into the the sea with heavy line and glittering tackle attempting to join the massive Oneness of the ocean by removing from it those that truly belong, I find a sure and sudden calm as if sedated yet awake and aware. Fully aware.
I have spent so little time in my life by the ocean though I have always heard its call. A gentle tugging. It is the lure, I am the fish, and it is trying as hard to be a part of me as those men standing on the edge of this expansive pier are trying to be part of it.
In 1917 Rudlof Otto wrote Das Heilge, which appeared in English in 1923 as The Idea of the Holy. He suggests that while the concept of “the Holy” is often used to convey moral perfection It also contains another distinct element, beyond the ethical sphere, for which he uses the term “Numinous” and defines it as “non-rational, non-sensory experience or the feeling whose primary and immediate object is outside the self.” (Thank you Wikipedia)
I won’t go into the whole Jungian psychology surrounding the archetypes and Numinous because I believe I can sum it up in this one example: An artist creates a sculpture to give form to something that has taken life inside him. What he feels is Numinous, the influence of something “other” than himself. Years later I see his sculpture and literally feel the spirit he has put into the stone looking back at me.
This is the Numinous Experience.
I look into the ocean, this beautiful and powerful creation of the Divine, and see it looking back at me. Calling me. Reaching into me and igniting a spirit within me which I release onto the page of this blog where it lives and, hopefully, reaches into you and ignites the “other” that lives within you.
Life is truly a spiritual experience if we allow it to be.
Image by JMGreff at the end of the Gulf State Park Pier in Gulf Shores, AL
How I wish you were here.
Or I there with you.
Not this distance.
This painful punishment of purpose.
Unfair actions of the Universe
creating love at distance.
increased by insurmountable odds
of our own creation.
Of my creation.
The price paid
for becoming me.
Damn this misfortune.
The Divine has no right.
If love is her intention
then why the obstruction?
Seething with silent melancholy
I step to the mirror
and gaze at that man.
See beyond those feelings.
Beyond the frustrations.
Beyond the need for blame.
I am sure.
I am loved.
I am servant to the Divine,
and have served her well,
this is not punishment.
Those are words
that describe how I feel.
They come from within.
Not from the Divine
whose only purpose is Love
I will the miles to evaporate.
Command the distance to dissipate.
Speed the flow of time.
Increase the range of my love
to envelop even from here
my love so far away
and a life I have yet to live
knowing that we will succeed.
I wish you were here.
I lay in bed and think of you
How you feel
I reach out
Draw you close
Feel your breath
Warm and sweet
The touch of your hand
An electric spark
That lights me from within
The heat of your body
The binding pulse of your heart
The fire of our souls
Our lips touch
Soft words are spoken
You slide your leg over mine
Press against me
In a slow grind
That leads to hard passion
The smell of us
Fills the room
Ignites my senses
The sound of us
A song of love
The feel of us
We are One
My lips move and you sigh
I caress your breast
and feel your hand on my chest
I look at you and see me
I long to spend the day like this
Here in your embrace
Worshipping with tender touch
To spend the night
The layers of your soul
To reveal your truest Self
Your Divine Spark
Then to carefully place
My own Spark
Life has been hard on you. It has given you challenges you never expected. Pushed you to do things you never thought you would do. It has kicked you when you were down. Stomped on you. At some point it convinced you that you are unworthy. Less than perfect.
Yet here you are, embracing those imperfections. Finding strength in courage and hope. You are authentic. Unafraid to be vulnerable. Honest with others and with yourself. Compassionate. When life knocks you down you simply get back up and proclaim, “You hit like a bitch.”
You have uncaged your wild nature and embraced the divine feminine.
You are a goddess.
You deserve the worship and love of a warrior. A god.
He will support you. Go out of his way to show his appreciation and his love in every way he can. He will dance with you while doing dishes. Kiss you long and deep without reason. Ride the stupid spirit wagon with you at your kids football game just because you are on it.
He will caringly touch and lovingly kiss all those areas, physical, mental, spiritual, that are hard for you to reach or uncomfortable for you to touch alone.
When you are down he will help you up. When you are up he will raise you higher. When life hands you shit he will make fertilizer from it, plant seeds in it, wash it from you, and put you to bed with soft words and hard passion.
He will reflect those things in you that make you a goddess without fear. You will see yourself in him and you will like what you see. You can be vulnerable around him because he will never take advantage of you. Never use your vulnerability against you. Because he is also vulnerable.
He will bring out the best in you by being his best. Only his best is good enough for you.
He will encourage and help you to grow and in doing so grow with you. Not separately. Not as competition. Together. As One.
He will do these things because he wants to. Not because he needs to. Not because he feels obligated. Because he wants to. He wants to because he loves you.
You are a goddess, you deserve to be loved like one.
Image: “The Fountain of Love” by Jean Honoré Fragonard, c. 1785