Freedom, joy?

the_right_place____by_michelch

Daily, I struggle in this world of narcissists and the ignorant. I am not perfect, no where near such. But it would be an absolute pleasure to hear realism expressed. When I ask you: ‘How are you doing?’ and you say; ‘yeah, I’m good”. When what you really mean is: ‘I really don’t know, things are pretty rough right now’. We are all living in some kind of fantasy… every day is exactly the same the same when we are are in reality seeking something else. But we keep behaving the same way, pushing our fear down enough to exist but not enough to become more than we are.

Trauma.

It owns us.

Freedom is not simple.

Challenge the gods within yourself and choose to believe…

but, is everything around you exactly as it seems?

Is who you see in your reflection too hard to see…

That is where we start.

Looking in the eyes we see daily.

Loving them, no matter what.

No matter what.

Love them, no matter what.

No matter what,

love them…

an example of joy in life

Words errant

image courtesy of Michel-Lag-Chavarria

Ear parcel: Gods gonna cut you down

 

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Blood Memory

Memorybox_naked_in_the_rain

The blood it remembers.

In the gush of memories,

That are now expected,

That I cannot fathom,

The bird within my breast

Fluttering, insistantly

against my ribcage

If only I could free

The trembling bird

Without losing myself.

 

errant.

Ear parcel: Smith & Burrows ‘Wonderful Life’

Image courtesy of Naked In The Rain

All the hemispheres

 

afternoon_stretch_by_kijani_lion

Leave the familiar for a while.

Let your senses and bodies stretch out
Like a welcomed season

Onto the meadow and shores and hills.
Open up to the Roof.

Make a new watermark on your excitement

And love.
Like a blooming night flower,

Bestow your vital fragrance of happiness

And giving

Upon our intimate assembly.
Change rooms in your mind for a day.
All the hemispheres in existence

Lie beside an equator

In your heart.
Greet Yourself

In your thousand other forms

As you mount the hidden tide and travel

Back home.
All the hemispheres in heaven

Are sitting around a fire

Chatting
While stitching themselves together

Into the Great Circle inside of

You.

 

Hafez (1325–1390)

Khwāja Shamsu d-Dīn Muhammad Hāfez-e Shīrāzī

(*such dignity!* – errant)

image courtesy of Kijani_Lion

Ear parcel

Softly spoken anger

speak_softly_love_by_prometheus1706-d649k54

I am, by nature, a gentle and kind person. I give too much and often find it hard to say ‘no’. I am not a push-over by any means, I am strong and some men (I am speaking in platonic terms here) find me intimidating when I speak my mind. But there is anger within me. Sometimes I express this anger and I usually do not do it well. It is my learning curve. Yesterday I responded to a security complaint in my workplace, I went toward it confident and calm. I met the complainant, heard their concerns and approached the party allegedly at fault, I approached in a relax manner and as I went to introduce myself I was met with a verbal barrage of unsavoury insulting language. It was like being punched in the stomach by a stranger on the street. Luckily support was immediately at hand and I was saved further confrontation. I know the vitriolic anger was not intended for me yet it still created fear and hurt. This situation helps serve as a reminder that it probably feels somewhat similar when I express my anger inappropriately, thus, this experience fuels my intention of learning to express myself with control, that I can be heard without verbally assaulting the one I wish to hear me. That I can softly speak my anger without creating fear or anxiety, only open lines of genuine communication.

errant

Image courtesy of Prometheus1706

Eyes

starry_eyes__by_emmixxalot

The eyes tell all. I always look to a persons eyes to get a sense of who they are. In some cultures this is behaviour is not acceptable, yet I still steal glimpses. I cannot help myself. The thing I remember most about my two older brothers when we were growing up are their eyes, even when they were raging against the world, when they raged against our parents, each other, or God. I saw it all in their eyes. The little sister who they were supposed to protect but who intimidated, irritated and impositioned them, I saw their despair, their pain, their righteousness and their love. I was too small to protect them, they did, many times protect me and I found ways I could save them, ways they may never know about. All our collective childhood trauma aside something is happening to us all this year. Each of us is suffering from an accident that has physically grounded us, stilled us and forced us to face ourselves, face our inner selves. I am proud to find we are connecting, communicating and expressing love and support to one another despite the difference in each others experience, to heal what appears to me to be a deep seated family trauma. We shared the experiences and have attempted to heal but have found ourselves stuck over and over, unable to communicate through fear, apparent separation and now finally, through the language of pain and acceptance, we have found one another again. Life is oddly synchronous and utterly beautiful.

Errant

Ear parcels… “Everyone carries a room about inside them. This fact can be proved by means of the sense of hearing. If someone walks fast and one pricks up one’s ears and listens, say at night, when everything round about is quiet, one hears, for instance, the rattling of a mirror not quite firmly fastened to the wall.”

Radiohead – Daydreaming

Otis Taylor – Resurrection Blues

Images:

Image 1 courtesy of TalesOfNightWing

Image 2 courtesy of Emmixxalot on deviantart