Flower Moon

calla moon

In a few days I will be loading up my car once again and heading North for a short while. The decision isn’t an easy one, there are many reasons for me to stay put; this is my home, my heart belongs here, I belong here.

But it is something I need to do if I am to continue forward on my chosen path.

I wasn’t aware of the Astrology involved when I made the decision to briefly return to North Dakota, but I am not at all surprised to see such strong energies in play.

May 29 the moon falls in Sagittarius and will rest between the Heart of Scorpio (Antares) and the Eye of the Bull, Aldebaran, which rises under the influence of Gemini.

It is the Flower Moon. A time of growth when the flowers bloom. A time to expand your thinking and extend your will, to learn new things, explore new places, take steps to improve yourself, and be open to opportunity. If you want a different life, a better life, then this is the perfect time to do something about it.

Truly, I could not have chosen a better time.

I have loose ends to tie up. Most of what I own was left in storage there, including my camper van and boat, and those things are dividing me, delaying my progression, holding me back. In order to move forward they, and the past that the situation represents, must be dealt with.

I have given myself a budget to work with and schedule in which to achieve attainable goals and when I return I will be fully present. Undivided. That will make my next steps easier and more meaningful.

It feels a little like I’m going backwards, and in a way I am, but sometimes in order to go forward one must take a couple steps back to settle the past. 

 


 

Image: “Calla Moon” by JMGreff

 

Sleep now, Love

Sleep now, Love
Forget the troubles of the day
Leave behind your worries
Fears and struggles
Fill your mind with memories
Of the pleasures that we share
With the joyful laughter
From the stories that we tell
Feel now only
The slight warm pressure
Of my hand upon your neck
Drawing you back
As I kiss you from behind
And whisper in your ear
Lay here next to me, Love
Let the fingers of my soul
Melt into you
Let our breathe
And the beating of our one heart
Become a song
That makes the gods weep
In envy of our humanity
Let our bodies touch
With hot serenity
Keeping passion kindled
To burn again at dawn
And as we drift, Love
Let our dreams weave together
A peaceful tale
Where the horizon
Never ending
Lit by both
The sun and moon
Is filled with sounds and colors
Indescribable
And we float among the clouds
Together
Sleep now, Love
I am here

Monday/Tuesday/Etc

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Monday: I woke this morning filled with a sense of purpose. I danced while I made breakfast for no other reason than to feel the joy of dancing. My intentions, pure and simple; love and gratitude, lighting me from within.

I got in my truck still smiling as I thought about this new spring unfolding before me and how life ebbs and flows with the seasons but never really ends, it just rests for a while.

Then I put my truck in gear and drove out from under my trailer, leaving it on the ground behind me. I am certain I locked the fifth wheel pin on Friday. I even had a second pair of eyes on it. At least it happened in the truck lot and not on the highway.
So now I have the day off, which is good because I can use the time to catch up on some of those things that need catching up with.

Tuesday: I woke this morning filled with a sense of accomplishment. The long list of tasks mostly complete. I danced while I made breakfast for no other reason than to feel the joy of dancing. My intentions, pure and simple; love and gratitude, lighting me from within.

When I got to my truck I noticed I had no trailer. It’s pretty hard to miss that. 40 minutes of phone tag and texting later and I find out I was supposed to meet the shop manager here at 7 am. I was here at 5:15.

So I took the time to clean my truck, catch up on emails, and do a little writing. All on the clock since the boss said to write it up as downtime.

So here I am, writing. It’s going to be a great day.

I’m going to make a prediction for tomorrow…

Wednesday: I woke this morning filled with a sense of [insert feeling here]. I danced while I made breakfast for no other reason than to feel the joy of dancing. My intentions, pure and simple; love and gratitude, lighting me from within.
[Then some shit happens and I’m okay with it]

——-

Picture taken at Gulf Shores.

No tears for Big Brother

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You see that black box in my truck window with the red light? That’s a dual facing camera. It captures nearly everything I do. We’re supposed to believe it protects us as well as the company but it rarely feels like it. It mostly feels like an unwelcome intrusion.

Especially on days like today because today I am feeling overwhelmed and would like to yell and cry a little but, with Big Brother observing everything I do, including tapping this out on my phone, I find myself holding it in instead.

You see that green outhouse in the picture? That’s where I’ll go to shed a few silent tears for now. The yelling will have to wait until later because it can raise eyebrows in an outhouse.

There’s no particular reason I feel like this. Just life in general. I sometimes feel like I set myself up to fail. Or that for all my good intentions I keep missing the mark. Or that the changes I’ve made in my life after awakening are just too little too late. Or that my body is betraying me. Or that I will never be “good enough”.

Today I feel a combination of all those and more. I know it will pass, and I’m grateful for the insights I gain from exploring these feelings, I just wish I didn’t have to hide in an outhouse to do it.

Simple

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The wind in my face on a hot day
While I strain and swear
Wrench in hand
Making repairs on those things
That seem ever broken
Because my wallet doesn’t weigh enough
To spread the wealth
The salty sweat as it touches my lips
The water that tempts and taunts
The icy brew that lightens the load however briefly
The sun behind the limbs
Of the giant pecan tree
That gave up the last of its nuts and leaves
Long ago
Yet still provides
Even in its final days
Shade and shelter
The sound of music
Through the abused speakers
Of a radio new before cell phones
The phone I tap with fingers calloused
From too many hours
Of work
And play
It’s bright screen repeating my words back to me
Scribing the love I feel
Always
That makes me smile or cry
That drives the words that escape me
While listening to songs I don’t know the words to
Wrenching on broken things under the shade
Of love itself
Simple

 

 

Note to Self

Recently, I was introduced to the term “imposter syndrome” which is defined as “a concept describing individuals who are marked by an inability to internalize their accomplishments and a persistent fear of being exposed as a fraud.”

Since I don’t feel like I’ve actually accomplished anything yet I argued that it really doesn’t apply to me (“that’s the point” she replied in silence). I am, however, quite intimate with the “fraud” part.

There’s so much I want to say. So many things I want to write about. I have a passion in me that has been ignited in a way that is impossible to extinguish. Nor would I want to extinguish it.

But the words won’t come.

Instead all I hear is:

“Fraud!”

“Charlatan!”

“Liar!”

“Pretender!”

How can I write about those things I feel and the lessons I have to share if I am unable to create and maintain them in my own life? Why should anyone listen to me? Why do the people I know continue to come to me for advice? I have had no success in love (or in life, really) to point at as an example and what I have learned I have learned painfully.

Rather than expose myself as that fraud I have written nothing but in doing so I prove that sense of failure because what I write about most often is hope and gratitude.

Some time back I read an article in the Buddhist review “Tricycle” by the Zen monk, Shozan Jack Haubner, who says:

“The only thing worse than trying to look younger than you are is trying to look wiser than you are.”

So I remind myself that my only failure is in thinking I’d be wiser by now and forgetting that I am only as wise as I allow my experiences to make me.

It is the suffering that has taught me the things I write about and though I don’t write about them in a “woe is me” manner does not mean I am pretending, it simply means I am learning.

Today I recommit myself to sharing what I have learned and to expressing the fire that burns in my soul because to hide it, or to hide from it, would truly make me a fraud.

As Shozan says, “…we all must commit wholeheartedly, moment after moment, to the life we have…”

This is my life. I will live it to the fullest. Even if that means pretending a little.