Giving for Giving

Sometimes giving is like taking
put your heart into a black hole
do not expect to get it back just the same
if at all...

Sometimes giving is like remembering
familiar echoes of something given to you
you give it with the same fervor that you'd take it back
if you could...

Sometimes giving is a surrender
you do it so much you close your eyes
your autopilot just as generous as your former self
as you would

Sometimes giving is for a purpose
and you break when you do not yield your expected return
with no-one to blame but yourself
as you should

Sometimes giving is just too much
when you watch it stomped and shattered
and then you must give to yourself
just let go.

Last Day Reflections

If today was to be the last day of the world, not that I think it is or anything, what would you think of the last week?  Would you be happy with the impact you had on your family?  With the level of interaction with your loved ones?  Who might you regret not seeing, or telling how you feel about them?  Would you regret how you handled a conflict?  Would you feel that you lived life the best that you could?  If we were to continually live with awareness of the fact that we are not guaranteed or entitled to another second on this earth, the perspective of such could change how we feel about many things.

I, for one, generally think that living my last bits of life working in a job that I do only for survival and that doesn't bring me any happiness would be a big waste of my life.  Yet, I couldn't regret spending this time at work because it allows me to provide for my family, which serves a much higher purpose than any of the fun things I could think up for myself.  That's what keeps me going, as it does for many.   Well, that and the threat of destitution.  Ultimately, I'm pretty sure that I wouldn't enjoy life more without a job, unless I had something else that enabled me to provide for my loved ones differently.  (Or that ever elusive enjoyable job.)

Now that THAT'S out of the way... What about family?  Who would you have seen more?  Or less?  For me, I would spend more time with my grandmother, who was once the salt of my earth, and provided my only refuge from misery.  Some of which was general teenage angst, but there was real legitimate misery going on, and she was my only escape; a great one at that.  I've always loved my grandmother for her amazing heart, and feisty spirit, but what happened to her importance?  People have said things along the lines of what I summarize as priority transparence, which is the idea that you can see what is important in your life by how much time you give it.  Grandma is indeed important, but I'm out of time and energy after work/ school/ kids/ house/ husband, and it takes discipline to conjure up enough energy to continue the list which from there includes husband/ dogs/ and once in an amazing while myself.  I wouldn't give a crap about cleaning the house with a known time limit, so theres one place to steal time from...  I also would want to get in some really good quality one on one time with each of the kids, and I could truly write all night about this topic.  I'm sure you can relate!

Along with family, I really would plan some things into my last week of life to impact others.  Perhaps I would help someone be less hungry or warmer in the winter.  I promise I am not saying this to impress you, I really do want to help people.  However, I don't do much to this end, and that's ok in my mind so long as I can do it "later".  And to the point of these thoughts, what if "later" never comes?

Last but hopefully not least, there's my fun.  I don't have enough of it, but what would I do?  I'd want to see new things, and try new things.  I'd absolutely want to dance more, and I would want to be in nature as often as possible.  What comes to mind for you?

Though the world may not end tomorrow, I never know when mine will.  My recommendation is that we make a list of what we really want to do, and when we are going to or hope to do it.  Then, when we look over this list, remind ourselves that the time we plan on borrowing does not in fact belong to us, and that every moment is a gift.  And for our involvement with others, their time is just as precious.  What will you do differently?

From Under Your Shoe

I'm stuck up here
under your shoe
I was stomped on for speaking
so what can I do
everything is dark
I feel I can't see
and from being all smooshed
I'm no longer me
The ground is all dirty
each stomp rubs my face
in all that is beneath you
which must be my place
don't get confused, though
I won't stay here long
although you keep stomping me
somehow I'm strong
you'll step in a puddle
or maybe some spit
I'll get lose one day
and no longer submit
I won't conform to your sole
I'll speak up again soon
and when you take a step
underneath will be no Alice Moon.

On Life: This Blog- my starting point.

It took some courage, but a couple of weeks ago, I decided to jump in and start this blog.  Not a huge step in this day in age, there are probably as many bloggers as there are... Um... Err.. Bloggers.  It was a very big deal to me, due to the fact that there have only been two small windows in the last 10 years that I allowed myself to write at all.  Why?  Well, because, the only part of myself that I have gotten to know in my entire adult life claims to be stoic, with a dislike of emotions and emotional situations in general, a distaste for drama, and an attraction to logic; surrounded by people of the same disposition  (who needs feelings when you have thoughts).  Life seems to be much safer when you can be just slightly above feeling, like riding an elevator instead of a roller coaster.  Only problem here is that you only learn what it is like to go up and down, and may get stuck with a flatulator.   I'm not comfortable with the twists and turns, and I didn't really like the feelings that allowed me to write.  Truly, I did not have an interest in spending time with myself, whoever that may be.  Which brings me to my purpose here, to explore the parts of myself that I have ignored, repressed and suffocated, in hopes of aligning with my identity.

Though it's been but a short time, there are some things that have started to transform.  In embracing some of my writing, it seems that I have allowed myself to be more open to creative energy in general.  I have been looking at things in a different light, and allowing myself to observe the motives and meanings behind things as opposed to taking things for face value.  Like listening to the words of a song as opposed to just the beat (which can be a mistake sometimes).  Also, as a result of this blog, I have gone out of my way to make an effort to connect with writers, photographers, artists and creative people in general.  I find happiness each day in seeing all of the works that people share.  I find hope in their pain, joy in their enthusiasm, and strength in the courage of sharing vulnerabilities; and I find myself wanting to become more because of this.

As that is something that I did not expect, it all makes this part of the journey worth it so far. There is one frightening aspect of this for me, lying in the deep dark corners of honesty, which is that a part of me is looking for validation.  We all do in many points in our lives, however I do not enjoy that I could ever feel like sharing of myself has failed.   I've experienced what it is like to move people with things that I've written, however, in general I haven't developed anything in my life that I feel that  am good at.  I can't apply the word talent to anything that I do really, but, as I'll share more about later, I just haven't tried many things.  (Actually, I have a talent for some aspects of motherhood... I do have eyes in the back of my head, and I can give a look that catches, lectures, disciplines and accepts an apology all at the same time.)

So, I plan to share this with you in hopes that you relate and walk this cobblestone road with me, wearing stilettos (sounds tricky? it is), and perhaps you'll put on a pair too (gentlemen as well, you know what they say about walking a mile), and maybe even lend me an arm for support and take embarrassing pictures of me when I fall.

AM

Photo credit: GrungeTextures / Foter / CC BY-NC

Tumultuous Flight

The wind against my face

the earth so far below

spinning and ever changing

as I try to land.

Floating so far above,

yet getting close so fast

hoping that the ground

will be there.

Looking into myself,

only ounces of fear are left,

so many were spent

on the falls before.

My heart races

I feel my pulse surging

frantically paced through my entire body

The feeling of being alive

bringing so much freedom to this flight

I hold my breath while the world speeds before me

Grasping through the air for a glimmer of control

to slow me down this time

I feel the tingle as I get closer now,

on every inch of my flesh

Note even I can help me now

my descent is almost through

My lungs tighten and my eyes close

my fists clench, fighting to make it through

these final moments

until I feel the ground again-

And now I feel the sun warm against my body

and I can breathe

just like the first breath

of new life.

Red

Swirling burning
Yearning impatience
Like anticipating the trickle of a trailing drop
tickling and seemingly eternal
Shivering want
Mixing with self awareness
Creating a power
Addicting and fleeting
Possessing and possessed
Mine and yours
Pure & endless.


(for Mr. Moon, naturally)
AM

Tapestry

Beneath myself & I'm suffocating
As though it's another I'm contemplating
As time flies I can't catch my breath
Watching the hands turn,
Hoping there will be something left.