Padma. Purity of the body, mind and spirit.
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The Verse
The Roundtable
Ashes to ashes, dust… on Final Advice- Rosa on Regrets Yvonne Raphael on …and other stuff goin… Yvonne Raphael on a few small things The Life Of An Intro… on introverts -
Feed Me
I surrender to another because I want to be taken to that place where reason and thought disappears, where the world folds up flat and spins away into its own corner and there's nothing left but what I'm feeling.
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Feed Your Body
Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.
~Kahlil Gibran~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Feed Your Heart
Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.
~Mark Twain~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Where there is great love, there are always great miracles.
~Mother Teresa~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There are three things that are important in human life. The first is to be kind. The second is to be kind. The third is to be kind.
~Henry James~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Feed Your Mind
The quieter you become the more you can hear.
~Baba Ram Dass~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Out beyond the ideas of wrong doing and right doing, there is a field; I'll meet you there.
~Rumi~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As a single footstep will not make a path on the earth, so a single thought will not make a pathway in the mind. To make a deep physical path, we walk again and again. To make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives.
~Henry David Thoreau~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave, find your eternity in each moment.
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~Henry David Thoreau~ -
Feed Your Soul
Compassion is not a relationship between the healer and the wounded. It's a relationship between equals. Only when we know our own darkness can we be present with the darkness of others. Compassion becomes real when we recognize our shared humanity..
~Pema Chodron~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Joy has no cost.
~Marianne Williamson~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
To know what you prefer, instead of humbly saying Amen to what the world tells you you ought to prefer, is to have kept your soul alive.
~Robert Louis Stevenson~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Desire & Intent
I, with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me naive or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman.
~Anais Nin~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Friendship
In the sweetness of friendship; let there be laughter and the sharing of pleasures. For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed
~Kahlil Gibran~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Love
‘A’Ole E ‘Olelo mai Ana Ke Ahi Ua Ana Ia.
Translation: The fire of Love will burn as long as it has something to feed on.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the kingdom of love there is no competition; there is no possessiveness or control. The more love you give away, the more love you will have.
~John O'Donohue~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Do not seek the because - in love there is no because, no reason, no explanation, no solutions.
~Anais Nin~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There is no remedy for love but to love more.
~Henry David Thoreau~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lovers don't finally meet somewhere. They are in each other all along.
~Rumi~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tapping Creativity
I’m quite sure now that what previously pushed me to write anything at all had little to do with the desire to do so. More and more it seems that the exercise has always been cathartic in its entirety, heavily linked to short excessive highs or very long, and very deep lows. I’ve always known I tend towards depression, especially in the winter months.
Cocoon
Encapsulated within strong silken threads
Safely bound
Resting
Insulated from the elements
Suspended in time
Waiting
Emerging on the other side
Dreams
She feels the slight but unyielding weight of the small metal ball that feeds a constant twinge of desire.
Is the feeling of her arousal not unlike the twitch that starts the swell of his cock?
Her nipples harden around the thin rings as his hand slowly slides up her back with increasingly steady pressure and draws her into his heat. She concentrates on the growing wetness and maddening pulse deep between her legs. Her eyes narrow to a lizard like slit as she raises her head to match his slightly mocking gaze and whispered word, SLUT. She hisses in return, It takes one to know one, as she simultaneously impales herself on his now hard cock…
Because
…I feel like it…
Incorrigible
…Like you, he knows how to make me drop my panties anytime…
Insatiable
…I would drop to my knees in an heartbeat…
Slut
…You have to give me clear boundaries otherwise I will break every single one of them…
Incorrigible
…I am a hedonist after all…
Insatiable
…It takes one to know one…
Slut
…I’m comfortable with it…
…Some things may never change…
*grins*
An Offering
To the Goddess Protector of Woman
Who, in her wisdom
Allowed me to smell the antifreeze leaking from the heater hose before it spilled its slimy, green guts onto the asphalt and caused irreparable harm to my beloved Subaru
And placed me ½ block from the auto parts store
And had the proper tools at my fingertips
And blessed me with two beautiful children:
A thoughtful daughter who stopped on her way to work to give me her house key just in case. Who in turn called strong brother to come by and make sure Mom didn’t need an extra hand.
And provided a store clerk who cut the hose to the exact length and said, “No charge. Have a great day!”
And the same daughter who comp’d Mom a very large frozen Marg along with supper at the hotel where she works, when the job was done.
I light incense and candles in your honor for your infinite wisdom and the blessings of wonderful children..
My Wiseass Children
At the beginning of April, my Most Favorite (and only) Daughter offered up the extra bedroom in her place while I prepared for my move to Hawaii. It meant sharing space with her, her boyfriend, and my youngest boy child. What the heck…it’s only for a few months, right? I mean…I’ve lived with them for much longer, right?And I Love my children. Really I do. But there are times….well, all I can say is that their saving grace is a great sense of humor.
Living with my two youngest and her boyfriend for the next two months is going to be a real challenge. And sex? Don’t even ask. I haven’t had to bite my tongue for quite some time, lol.
This morning’s conversation:
Me: Where’s my comb? Anyone seen my comb? I had two combs in the bathroom.
Girl Child: Mom, I don’t use a comb.
Youngest Boy Child calls out from the kitchen: Hey Mom? I used it to comb my pubes.
HAHAHAAAAaaaaaa.
Girl Child drops to the floor in a fit of laughter and manages to spit out: Nice one, Bro! HAHAHAhahaaaaa.
OH, FUCK YOU BOTH!!
Girl Child: They’re in the drawer in the hall where YOU put them.
Me: Oh. Shit, I forgot. That’s where the rest of my stuff is….
Them: Hahahaaaaaa
Now get this, as I walk into the living room in an attempt to give them some shit (despite not being close to having some sort of a comeback) Youngest Boy Child walks up to me, lifts my hand with the comb in it, peers intently at the teeth and says, “hold on a minute………oh, never mind.”
Both children collapse on the floor laughing hysterically.
I retreat into the bedroom with comb in hand and proceed to bang my head against the wall…It’s going to be a long 3 months isn’t it?
Well Hell…
Lots going on…
Moving to a new place for a few months. Tell you about that later.
Swamped at work. Could easily let the door hit me in the ass on the way out but won’t. Or at least not today. Tomorrow? Who knows.
Applying for jobs in paradise.
In the interim, I have to return the cable box so at best I’ll be surfing off any open wireless I can find. I can check e-mail from work occasionally. Well, as often as I need but try not to unless I’m having a really bad attitude day.
I’ll be reading ya all and leaving comments when time and internet capability permit. But otherwise…
I would say, Play Nice Together, but someone already tried that and it didn’t work. LMAO.
Be well with yourselves.
Posted in Life Interrupted
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Testing
A months worth of test looking for a possible cause of my stroke left me feeling drained. And my fears seemed to get the best of me at every turn…
It’s just one big test isn’t it?
Well, I’m still breathing.
Does that mean I passed?
I hope you all sleep with angels tonight *smiles*
revisiting life
This seems strangely appropriate right now as I think about life and love and leaving a space I’ve been too comfortable with for so very long…
We all meet people in our lives who affect us deeply. Loving others in any form does not detract from any intimate relationship. It enhances it.
It is about accommodation and balance. Sometimes it all flows one way and sometimes all flows the other way.
The only commitment I want is for you to live life and love doing it. Life is too short to do otherwise.
I have fears, insecurities, wants, desires, needs, strengths and failings…As do you. To be human is to embrace them all, to live and grow.
So when I tell you I miss you, it means I enjoy your company.
When I tell you I want to get to know you better, it means I find you interesting.
When I tell you I want to see you, I already know it could an imposition on your time. And that “no” is an acceptable answer.
When I tell you I care, it means I consider you a friend and I value you as another human.
When I say, “I Love You”, it means you have enriched my life. You have touched my heart.
Nothing more. Nothing expected in return.
I do not want anyone else’s heart and soul. I have my own.
[reposted in part from 15 March 2006. Written then for a lover and someone who continues to be a close friend. Now repeated for another in the hopes he too understands my heart.]
Basic to the Core
I wonder, she thought lazily while stretched out on the bed in that hazy half state between waking and sleeping. Still grinning like the Cheshire Cat from their late night escapades, is it possible to discorporate out of sheer pleasure? The lingering sensations still resonate through her body and soul.
She thought of those noises. Those noises escape her hot breath during sex. Low and guttural from the depths. Basic and core to her being. Semi-instinctual. Her normally husky voice drops an octave even with loud growls and gasps of pleasure. She thought of how she surrendered to the feeling because there is nothing else to do…Utterly present and trusting. Her body will not betray her…
She remembers her midwives telling her to open her throat as it would open her pelvic region. Yes, it did she thinks, amazed those sensations were still so fresh within her. She remembers those noises. Are they really the same? Low and guttural. Basic. Was childbirth that erotic? She remembers surrendering to the feeling because there was nothing else to do. Utterly present and trusting. Her body would not betray her.
I wonder, she muses, if those noises, those seemingly involuntary noises open me up more? It startles me. And scares me a bit sometimes. That depth. And lack of control. She grins again as the rest of her fades to sleep…
Paper Spirit
My spirit is
paper on the wind,
Fluttering lazily
afloat
on the breeze
Or swirling, twirling,
dancing
at your feet.
My spirit brushes an arm,
escapes
a desperate grasp.
Spinning higher,
comes to rest
in the
tangled branches of life.
At last,
strong currents
carry it away.
Needful
He felt good, smelled great, and tasted even better. It took everything I had not to fuck him right then and there on the floor. But, subscribing to some unknown belief I had to wait…I kicked myself all week while I anticipated getting together again. It was great until we actually got down to it.
I wonder how someone so attractive on so many levels could be so bad in bed. He just wasn’t there in a way his kisses or his touch seemed to indicate.
I’m really sensitive to a man’s full weight on me even tho I like a man to be on top. And I make this clear. I am small and I can be intimidated in that position simply because of the weight difference. But he didn’t seem to respect that. As many times as I gently suggested another position, he was climbing back on top of me.
He didn’t get it that when a woman takes a mans hands and shows him what to do, it’s what she needs and desires. And it will add to his overall pleasure. None of us are mind readers all the time. I want to let a man know what I like as much as I want to be shown what he likes. Communication comes in many forms.
I realize the first time can be awkward and there can be a bit of performance anxiety for both parties. It’s sort of like cooking a meal in a kitchen you’ve never been in before. I’ve found the awkwardness, that uncertainty dance we do tends to smooth out after a few hours. This wasn’t a short session by any means. We fucked repeatedly and for hours-well into the night and the next morning.
No, it wasn’t the size of his cock even if he had an issue with it, I didn’t. It wasn’t specifically his need for lots of strokes, although asking me repeatedly if I liked his cock was a bit much. Constant talking doesn’t EVER do it for me anyway. I am not talking about conversation, debate, discourse or laughing my ass off. I’m not talking about dirty talk or love talk that comes with sex. I’m talking non-stop, incessant-chatter-to-fill-the-silence, during sex. There is much to be heard and felt in silence. I really like loosing myself in the moment of sweat and skin and rhythm. Feeling every sensation from one minute to the next. If I even have to think about shssssshing someone…
The upshot was that it took him a week to e-mail a very brief note thanking me for taking off my panties. Now three weeks later he wonders when we’ll get together again. I even cooked supper that night. LOL, anyone who knows me knows this doesn’t happen very often, if at all. Well, I guess it was very good for him. It wasn’t near good enough for me.
I suppose I could have a good sound fucking whenever I wanted to, if I put more energy in to it. I’m not sure I’m willing right now. I don’t want a boy toy. Or just good sex. I’m a hedonist through and through. I want it and I want it all. I Love tasting a variety of men. I love tasting the variety in men. No, I want it better than good. I want it great. I want it mind blowing. Soft, slow, sweet, tender, rough, wild, animalistic, downright dirty and HOT…every way possible but with chemistry, connection, and passion.
And how many times does that happen with a stranger? I’ve found a few…but it doesn’t happen often. Or often enough, lol.
Not bitching…just thinking out loud…clarifying for my own sake…maybe this place can never offer what I need and I should stick with what I know right now.
Visualize This….
a few days after my stroke…
My hand is filled with white goose feathers.
I see myself blowing on them.
Releasing them to the wind, up and away…
Sometimes I’m successful…
I see my touchstone in the palm of my hand.
Sometimes not so much…
a few feathers remain.
As much as I use visualization to attract what I want, I can use it to banish what I don’t want.
If I acknowledge its existence, accept it and call it mine, I can release it.
Right?
This week the metaphor for “scared” is the feathers.
Anticipation
Hot water streams over her head and down her back. Steam rapidly fills the small bathroom. Breathing slowly and deeply, she shakes the fog from her mind. A faint smile at the prospect, her hands slide slowly over skin now warm and slippery from the soapy lather.
Abruptly she turns, places her back firmly against the tile wall and lifts her left leg, bracing it against the glass shower stall. Razor in hand she drags it unmercifully from ankle to thigh in one sure stroke. Again and again she rakes away the day’s stubble. She moves the blade higher and higher with deliberate caution, and tends to the folds and mounds surrounding her female essence.
She sits on the edge of the bed facing the panel of mirrors on the closet doors. With bottle in hand she starts the ritual again. The coldness of the lotion shocks her skin alive. Fingers gently caress her calves and thighs as she thinks of how he will have her tonight. The scent of Arabian Sandalwood rises with her heat…feels his arms pinning her wrists to the bed as he runs his short beard across her cheek and downward…stopping to bite her neck, shoulders and breasts in the way he knows sets her juices flowing.
She wonders just how much she can give, but at the same time remembering her hot flesh yielding entirely too easily at his explorations. There is power in the rawness of their sex. How much deeper can her pleasure grow? Where will he bring her to this time? What boundaries can she push? How much can she surrender? Can she ever totally surrender?
The muscles in her legs and ass tighten as she feels impending release. Her mind screams a mental slap of her hand. Save it for later…all in good time…
Overflowing
lifetimes of emotion
spilling,
an angry river
overflowing
rocky banks.
turning
churning
murky waters,
deep eddies
pull
me
down.
Sands of Time 
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