LIFE IS PERSONAL
Often I want to share what I write in my journal, but then I don't because it may be too personal. Recently, I started another journal and will share some writings from it.
Journal #22, pages s15 - 17
(My son's name)
The miracle in my life.
Resilience, tenderness, courage, strength in spirit ~
the best in our humanness.
Giving or receiving kindness lifts your spirit, lifts the universe.
No translation needed.
Imagine your life with no one in it who treats you with kindness. You never experience a person who helps you when you are down. The only way you have connection with another human being who is an adult is by abuse, and worse, neglect.
If you are not even important enough to have even negative attention, how can you feel worthy to be alive? Many children live this life. November 11, 2010
Pages 18 - 19
This I Know
So much of my experience has been either transient, let me down, betrayed me or simply been too little to fill me up and certainly never taken me to 'overflowing'.
But music has been there always for the taking and giving.
It has been a constant in my life. It has saved me from despair. It comforts me, lifts me up, inspires and been the vessel for my inspiration.
It is the vessel for my tears, my delight, my exuberance, my spirit.
For me music is a refuge in a world that isolates and tries to exile you from your own soul, at times. Music is a refuge in an often cold world.
Music is a gift that is for the soul and is born in the soul of Life.
November 14, 2010
I was in the kitchen doing something I rarely do. Cook. My son was coming and this is what I do for him. It is a meal he loves. Thankfully, because it is the only thing I have kept in the cooking repertoire.
A Hole That Weighs Heavy
It happened again today.
Like an anchor residing in my chest.
Burning hard and intense.
It has come and come again
and it doesn't lessen.
It's always the same. Deep and wide pain.
A hole that weighs heavy.
The skin around my eyes sting, my chest wells up and releases hot tear drops that I feel in the corners of my eyes. My cheeks flush with blood.
You have said the words. But I haven't felt it.
When these times come, I know.
When I stood by the apples on the counter with a paring knife in my hand, I froze and made the tears stop. I forced my face muscles to harden. Immediately, I took inventory of why I needed to be strong. Why it had to be okay that I'm not loved. But it sure feels like being loved would have healed the hole I carry around.
The hole you left me to heal.
Uploaded by Thespadecaller
There is a website - www.gratefulness.org - that as a part of it, you can light a candle for anyone, any group or sometimes I light a candle for myself. I just did that again and called the page Soul
Sometimes I name it Spirit instead.
Also, a long time ago, I started a page for Darfuris. When a page is opened but the candles all burn out (in 48 hours) and not one candle burns, that page ceases to exist, until someone starts the page anew. But the page I opened for Darfur - Darfr - never goes away, not even when no candle is burning anymore. What that means, I do not know, but I think it is wonderful that it never ceases to be, no matter what.
Where I sometimes light a candle also for
Jon - my son