Grace

Posted on Saturday, 17 September, 2011 by Rosa

Grace comes not by the force of a push or a pull. Grace is the candle that remains lit through the storm. Grace is the candle burning in the night, warm and bright. Grace is gentleness that radiates from our soul and allows us to accept the human condition in each one of us.

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balance, forgiveness and complicity

Posted on Friday, 16 September, 2011 by Rosa

I walk along the edge of the sword today. On the one side of the sword is forgiveness,
the other side if the sword is blame. The longer I walk the edge, the deeper the cuts on my feet.

It’s easiest to forgive when we examine our own complicity. Where does my part begin? Where does my part end? My part is not taking all the blame. And where my part ends it is not an assignment of blame to another. It’s simply an acknowledgement of “not mine to do something with”.
The forgiveness is not about anyone but myself and my part of being complicit.
To do otherwise is still blaming another. I forgive YOU for doing this TO ME.

I remember one time about 3 years ago. He broke the agreement between us to never have another woman in the house with me there without my consent, or giving me an opportunity to find something else to do for the night. He bought her home late that night after their date. And woke me as they fucked in the next room. So I left to walk the beach, coming home only after he called to say she was gone. The next morning saw sadness in each others eyes. He did not blame the alcohol the night before on his choice. He didn’t ask for my forgiveness. He gave me the right to be angry. And then I felt myself make a conscious decision to just let it go. Intent ceased to matter. Nothing mattered except that I loved him unconditionally. It was my heart.

Can I do this here, is the question I face today. Can I find my heart with the hurt? There is one part I am stumbling on. The assignment of blame to me and a perceived refusal to allow my feelings; right, wrong or otherwise. When someone tells me another makes them feel guilty, my response is that they need to look inside themselves first because maybe it’s their heart speaking. When someone tells me I make them feel they are always a disappointment to me, my response is that maybe they need to look inside and question if they are in fact a disappointment to themselves.

Don’t assign me power I do not possess.

Or is all of this chatter rationalizations and assignment of blame back on to someone other than myself? Validation wanted for my view, and the acknowledgement I feel I am due anything as a person, a woman, and a friend? A refusal to consider his view? His feelings? My refusal to be considerate and respectful of another’s wishes?

There is a part of me that thinks so. And then, there is a part of me that thinks I am harming myself taking blame I feel isn’t mine and trying (as I always do) to do something about it where nothing can or should be done.

Part of me wants to beat his chest until I fall, exhausted onto the floor for pushing me away when I risk my nakedness before him. For being honest. For being loving. For being patient.

I want him to let me acknowledge it without tears and in his presence as raw and animalistic as it needs to be. And then I want him to tell me he understands. He will not. He cannot. He should not. It’s not his dues to pay to me. It is patently unfair, no matter how I feel. It’s not examining and owning my complicity. It’s not owning what is really in my heart.

I need to fall on the side of forgiving myself before I cut the feet off my legs and cannot walk the sands of time….It wouldn’t serve me….

Posted in Burning Bowl, Journal Entry | Leave a comment

trinkets in the sand

Posted on Friday, 16 September, 2011 by Rosa

Morro Bay Beach

carry me to your shores
let the water heal my wounds
and cleanse my soul

carry me to your shores
let me gather
trinkets in the sand

carry me to your shores
feed me the fruit
of your heart
before I go

carry me to your shores
set my sail
for a distant land

Posted in Dreams, Journal Entry, Traveling Lady | 1 Comment

mirror of darkness

Posted on Friday, 16 September, 2011 by Rosa

give me your dark,
your dirt,
your cruelty.

the rawness of you
me
we
them
swirls on the edge
undercover,
hiding in shadows.

in the recesses of the mind
standing face to face
we run from what we see
misunderstanding
how monsters
are banished

we are the mirror.
the wretched
the tortured
the filth
yearning for light.

every look away
from the mirror
of our soul
is another turn away
into the dark.

Posted in Along the Continuum | 1 Comment

the cost of friendship

Posted on Thursday, 15 September, 2011 by Rosa

You wouldn’t be heartbroke if our friendship ended?
REALLY???
It means that little to you?

Words can warm the room or burn down the house.

My sanctuary just burned to the ground…

Posted in Along the Continuum | 3 Comments

undercover and in darkness

Posted on Thursday, 15 September, 2011 by Rosa

she left this for me. or something close. wish i had copied it because my memory is fuzzy when it comes to quotes. it sums my life completely right now.

I carry a little piece of bread and meat in my satchel. I go by the light of the moon, undercover and in darkness. I know I must leave the village for a time for I am dying inside. This path I must walk alone in darkness to find my light…

Posted in Along the Continuum | 5 Comments

Tomorrows

Posted on Wednesday, 14 September, 2011 by Rosa

Next week I travel again. This time I am taking a break to see a very special and close friend; my spiritual mentor. There is no one on this earth who heals me and protects me like he does. Gene is a longstanding ex; ex-b/f, ex-landlord, ex-roommate, ex-dancing partner, ex-drinker of dark beer and shots of tequila, ex-walker of the beach with me in Hawaii, co-conspirator, keeper of secrets, and partner in crime. Oh the trouble we’ve gotten in together over the years. Mostly over the jealously of other women and their rank misunderstanding of our love. There are two things he will never be. He never has and never will be an ex-friend. He never has been and never will be an ex-lover. What was that old movie with Mary Tyler Moore? Where she and her lover meet once a year, every year as they grew old. Yah, that’s me and Gene for the rest of our lives. It’s a rare blessing to have an Anam Cara. We are bound forever through time.

Monday I fly to his place in Sausalito to be warm and safe in his arms, and present with his mind. He soothes me without touch over the thousands of miles that separate us. I need the safety right now. My energy flies willy-nilly across the universe as it pulses and surges out of my skin. It’s a physical pain I cannot soothe myself. Meditation only pushes it away for a time. I have been stripped bare and cannot shield myself effectively anymore. He will allow me to dump my energy without harm.

Thursday I fly to San Luis Obispo, rent a car and spend time at Pismo, Avila, Morro Bay and Montano del Oro. It will also be a feast for my soul; miles of beaches and the sound of the ocean, crab and avocado cocktail, picking sand dollars just after high tide, jade for her from Montano del Oro, a new hat for a friend from the hat store on the Embarcadero in Morro Bay, creamy clam chowder in a bread bowl, sailing boats, terns, mudflats on the Pacific Flyway, seals, the taste of salt in the air.

I will also look for a small place to rent there. I see no reason to stay here in Colorado. At least not today. I will probably choose to break my promise to never cut and run, and run. Nothing good can come of it. Nothing. I was a willing participant.

There is nothing to forgive, I too made a conscious choice to participate, and my love is unconditional. I’m not angry at him. Our relationship the past 5 years will never be a regret. I don’t do regrets. But right now, I am without hope. And my heart hurts.

I am thinking of selling everything I own and starting over again. Anonymously….

I cannot cut the string alone without doing serious harm to myself in the process.
I want to feel nothing at all but I cannot….

Posted in Along the Continuum, Life Interrupted | Leave a comment

in my heart

Posted on Tuesday, 13 September, 2011 by Rosa

as i speak

my eyes change

for i speak from my heart

as i write

my words contain

the songs of my heart.

my eyes

are my heart

for you to see

my words

are my heart

for you to read.

my eyes

my words

my heart

are me

for you to see.

Posted in Passion, Poetry | 8 Comments

Predicated on Perspective

Posted on Tuesday, 13 September, 2011 by Rosa

Everything is. Predicated on perspective of the individual. We may take others perspectives into account, give the validity where we need or want; but what it comes down to is when all is said an done, it becomes our perspective.

It’s been a little over a year now that I stopped writing here. Oh, a few posts here and there but nothing consistent with the past 6 years when I started writing aloud and well over 4 since I started this blog in this place.

Careless phrasing here so as to not reveal names lead to part of this blog being copied and thrown back in the face of another with questions about trust. Not intentional, but intent doesn’t matter when it stirs the turds. I took the blame. All of it. I was ordered to erase all mention of my best friend contained in these pages. All references to Muse, friend, lover, etc., had to go. So insecure and threatened by the impending loss of a friendship that meant so much to me, I painfully complied. I combed through over 350 posts and removed those references from my life. And then just as painfully closed this place down because after all, how can one erase 5 years of life in a blink? How can one erase one of their closest and most respected friends from all memory? It was not his directive to close this down but he made it clear he never again wanted to read what I wrote here. I was heartbroken. Suddenly my writing was unwelcome. My writing is ME. Good, bad, sloppy, creative, funny, sad, passionate, bittersweet, heartfelt warts and all of ME. Me was now being rejected out of hand…..

I tried to journal on paper. I tried to journal in word docs. Neither worked so I shut myself off completely. It’s been a year in hell. Writing is clarifying and healing. My process. And the process includes being fearless with putting myself out there for all to see.

This weekend I decided I had enough self imposed exile. My words are my heart and soul and always have been. I’ve written journals since I was a teen. Burned most of them in disgust and anger over the years. I have never written for anyone else. And while I’ve occasionally written to others through my words here, the words were my process; and were always, in time, spoken *to* that person, in person.

My mistake in all of this was taking all the blame assigned me. Letting another be unreasonable with me. And predicating my life on what served another instead of myself. I thought I was being gracious and loving by complying. So threatened by the loss of love, I copped out. I stopped an integral part of me. I stopped loving a part of myself.

Now, one year later, I find I was right all along. The action was nothing more than dart for dart and dagger for dagger. Thankfully, that is recently healed. There is no more pissing or dagger throwing. And I have no time for unreasonableness or demands with the loss of friendship thrown in my face as the ultimate punishment.

I don’t need to argue, or beg or plead. It’s my perspective and I am entitled to it.

Predicated on perspective. And this one is mine…..

Posted in Along the Continuum | 6 Comments

Come….

Posted on Monday, 12 September, 2011 by Rosa

Come. Come and sit with me awhile, child.
My bones are tired today.  Rest with me for a spell while I speak of Long Ago…

The two of them sat whenever they chanced to meet along the winding path between their village and again during each of the Ripe Moon Gatherings.

The child settled into onto her favorite mossy boulder. It formed a perfect seat amid tall tress and lacy ferns deep in the forest.  The last vestige of the setting sun cast shadows in long lines across the forest floor creating alternating patterns of light and dark. The coolness of the forest breeze sighed against her cheeks.

The child, small and lithe, was in her 7th year. Long, chestnut brown hair graced her shoulders. In a tan, rough woven sack she carried packets of herbs, spices and cures to and from the villages to others in need.  Her mother was both revered and feared in her knowing of local plants and their magik. The child learned to be quietly observant when dealing the small packets to the villagers. Her gentle yet quiet demeanor created comments of “Odd” and Queer” and “Peasant Witch”. Most folk left her and her mother to themselves.

The Old Woman with her sharp, hawkish features, deeply lined face and long silver hair worked a small farm just off the main path between Here and There.  No one could recollect when she came to the area, or to whose kin she belonged.  They only knew her as Old Woman Speaker who told the stories of Long Ago.

Perched comfortably on the short stump of an ancient log belonging by right to the eldest storyteller, she began to speak….

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2 Women & A Dragon

Posted on Monday, 12 September, 2011 by Rosa

They stood more than arms length apart eying each other warily and pretending the smiles were genuine. There was no hate in their hearts, only grudging acceptance. And so they continued like this for many moons, dart for dart, dagger for dagger. The volley was never intended to be fatal. It was simply territorial marking accompanied by small bloody wounds as a sharp reminder of where not to step.
~~~~~
Unbeknownst to either of them, they had each privately asked for the chance to heal their heart with the other. A chance to grow by peeling away years of scars of insecurity, jealously and attachment, and erasing the boundaries they themselves had so carefully created to keep them safe.
~~~~~
As they had asked, they would receive. Their paths would cross again. One and only one chance was granted to start a process of healing. A kind word was received with a heartfelt hug. Each woman gently wiggled their fingers inside the other to find no shields or walls. For the first time, each saw the other in the blaring spotlight of willing to risk their heart. Of willing to find commonality within their own individuality.
~~~~~
Another two moons and a half passed. Each took the time for the other without expectations or obligation. One left a trinket for the other to find. The other left a treasure in return. Emails filled the void with kindness and love. They shared the tears and laughter of hopes and dreams. And again, plans were made to be together as family. Only this time there was no test for them to pass, no watchful eyes, no competitions to win as they join hands and step off the ledge…
~~~~~
In coming to the table they have found their strength and unabashedly admitted to the weaknesses of their humanity. Threads of silver and gold bind them together in the intricate tapestry of life. They have the same dragons to slay. Together they hold the key. A whispered promise of support and strength. Failure is not an option.
~~~~~
There is no moral contained here. This is a telling, my telling of changes in my life. Of letting go the old and welcoming in the new. Together we step hand in hand in Grace and Beauty. Together we walk a shared path of slaying the dragons and standing victorious for no other reason than it serves us to do so.
~~~~~
**dedicated to b with Love**

Posted in Along the Continuum, Life Interrupted, Mastery Through Accomplishment, Relationships | Leave a comment

animal unleashed

Posted on Monday, 20 December, 2010 by Rosa

let me,
make me
fuck you
thru the pain.

you should have
let me,
make me
fuck you
hard

you should have
let me,
make me
fuck you
like the animal
within

i am the animal

you unleashed…..

Posted in Along the Continuum | Leave a comment

moved:

Posted on Tuesday, 14 December, 2010 by Rosa

moved. forwarding address unknown

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Inside Outside

Posted on Wednesday, 1 December, 2010 by Rosa

Outside
harsh winds of life blow.
In the night
one light shines
as my guide.
I am hesitant.
I knock
seeking inside,
hopeful to find an open door.
~
You offer
shelter from the storm
by the warmth of your fire.
You feed me
a bounty of gifts
with outstretched arms.
Conversation for the mind
laughter for the heart
tenderness is the dessert
for my soul.
~
Softly now
you offer
the gift of self
unprotected
and vulnerable.
~
As you give
so shall you receive
my gift of self
unprotected
and vulnerable,
for no harm shall come
inside the circle
of strong arms.
~
Inside me
inside you
linked
I sleep.
Content,
Sated,
Easy.
Dreamless
without
need
to
run.

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Jumped

Posted on Wednesday, 17 November, 2010 by Rosa

No longer do I slumber
waiting,
afraid to jump.

I have awoken
to claim my right
as a woman
with power.

You have not crafted me
into an image of your liking.

You have watched me
evolve,
gently carrying my power
within
while I slept
unaware and refusing
to believe
who I am.

More than the sum
of my parts
scattered amongst
stars above

I am
the sun
the moon
and the stars.

I am the sea
washing clean
your shores.

I am all that there is.
I am everything
and nothing at all

I am
yours
for the taking.

I am
awake.

Oh yes,

I am

Posted in Along the Continuum | Leave a comment