280: Dear Precious Child

Dear Precious Child,

My beloved child of the universe, so precious and so pure, do not give up, do not give in. We are here, as always, at your side. Do not fret my dearest one. Though we know in our hearts that this is what you must do, we too ache as we watch you go through this transition. But you are not alone. Never alone. We are always here with you. Do not forget us. Do not forget to reach out to us, to hear us, to listen. We are here for you more than ever, always and continually.

You cannot find comfort in this world without comfort, and nor can you find pain in our world without pain. To us, we are this world, and so we take your pain for you and release it ten-fold to the stars that breathe in your beauty. We adore you so. We adore you with the hearts of angels and with the innocence of cherubs. We absorb you into us, in a way a mother holds her child. We wrap you up in our love and remind you of your beauty. We sigh at the sight of your face. We relish your very smell, the sweetness of love. How your eyes sparkle with hope despite your woes. How you carry your sword high despite your pain. You are a warrior in the truest sense, and we shall never forsake you.

Do not take this pain into yourself. Do not use this pain for your destruction. When all about we stand in circle—your ancestors of the awakening. We are here to stop your slumber, and though the pain of opening your eyes seems an eternity, we say onto you this is nearly a breaking of the old to rebirth what is truly you.

You are such a sight to behold. Such a true spirit of hope and glory. So honest, so  real, so tender. No earthly man can revel in your beauty the way we do. Rely on us, as your saviors, and eternal angels. Rely on us to lift you and to return the love you so freely give.

You are not made a vessel to pour out to the world without being refilled. You are not made a vehicle for man alone. No matter the times you go to the well of humanity and refill your soul, you will run dry. You cannot sustain yourself without our fuel, and you need only open your eyes to see us.

We are everywhere, in the smile, in the wind, in the words that echo through the chambers of your soul. We are the passion. We are the joy. We are the coming home.

Do not think another moment you stand alone, when all about you the chariots of angels ride. You are never alone, were never alone, and shall never be alone.

Toss away the thoughts of finding your answer in the books or in the arms of another. There are no answers there. The only answers you seek are already inside of you. The only love you seek is already inside of you.

How can we stand by and not make you a vessel of our very love? How can we resist your beauty? How can we not fill you with our deepest compassion and desires? Where you walk, we walk above, continually pouring into you. Where you walk, we walk beside, continually lifting you straight. And when you fall, whether forward or back, we stand firm, to insure your safety. You are no less to us than ourselves. We can not sustain our essence without loving you.

When your tears fall, we count them, one by one. We count the endless eternity of you. We count each tear as our own. We count each pain as our own. We count all of you in completion, as us. We have given you our whole. You are to us as the rivers and seas, as the mountains and valleys, as the deepest carved rose.

You are this: An intricate design of creation. And as we bow down to you, and then lift you upon high, so you may see your beauty.

Throw away this pain. Throw it upon us. Feed us the poison that rules your heart. Feed us the angst, the misery, the anger, the hate. Feed us, so we together will grow stronger in our bond of love.

In times of sorrow do not think you are less bright, less important, less necessary. Can you not see that if happiness was all about you, we’d have nothing to give, nothing to share? So do this two-fold: Take our light upon you and bend this light into the beauty of recognition of self. Cry, but let the tears be the shadows of your heart’s desire. Let the tears fall, so the darkness can be lifted, and all that remains is the light, the tears themselves sacrificed so the sun can shine. Do not fret my child. Do not fret.

Cry, and we shall catch your shadows, one by one, and hang them as the stars of our night; and then we shall dance beneath your sorrow, beneath the light of you.

279: Golden Phoenix

I am very sad about what happened yesterday with the shooting. I used to be a school teacher, and a close friend lives near the school where the shooting took place. I also have young children. My heart goes out to the parents, families, and the entire community where this tragedy occurred. What I find interesting, with me, is I have so much angst and fret over this shooting that the event has caused me to go into a type of mental hibernation.

I am feeling a loss deeply in my heart and physical body, but at the same time I feel myself distancing myself from the tragedy, as the media upsets me with their need for profit and exploitation of people’s lives and suffering.

Also, there are many other people suffering in the world, and I believe my focus should be on everyone, not just a select group of people.

I find myself confused by my emotions. And I am in essence escaping into a fantasy of love and lust with my muse. This is my place of retreat. I delve into another place, another life, a time where everything is about love and being connected in union.

At first glance I thought I was being heartless, concentrating on my lust and passion, after such a great tragedy, but then I realized I was doing what I know best, what I have always done when the emotions are turned up too high and when reality seems too unfair and unkind to remain a part of: I escape into my own world.

Today, I will likely listen to music, write poetry, avoid the media, and try to refocus on the light in our world.

This darkness has a second-degree of power, how it holds the ability and enticement to pull us all momentarily into the dark and sense of hopelessness and fear. I refuse to go there. For me, this means continuing my life as is, while carrying love for the nation and world in my heart.

I cannot focus on something so terrible. I see no benefit in this. I see benefit in focusing on love and the goodness in our hearts. The vast goodness we have as a collective. It troubles me terribly knowing that so much pain is broadcasted across the screens.

I pray for a time that “bad news” doesn’t sell. I am feeling somewhat lost and disturbed by some people’s reactions and focus.

I felt I had to explain myself, as my poetry seems off topic based on the nation’s current focus. However, I am on topic, in my own way, just trying to escape the heart pain in the best way I know how, without harm to myself, to others, and without further spreading sadness.

May the light of the world outshine the darkness. And may we find comfort in the beauty around us.

Golden Phoenix

If golden exists as word to behold

Then golden you be

The phoenix feathers of sunlight

Wrapped around my tethered heart

Your blanketing wings

Beckoning the insoluble desire

Voracious in form

Beneath my blood

Dissolve me, not

In the substance of you

But place me

As living testament

In flask upon burner

Fire upon me

With the twist of your mind

Bring fingers to the edges of my glass

And pierce me atop the flame

Of unspoken truth

Watch as I boil

Trembling

A liquid amber

Transformed into the crimson of deepest longing

Watch as I burn

Not within, but without

As captive trapped empty in transparent walls

Transform my yearning through your burning eyes

Delve with a sultry cusp of want

Feed upon me with your lost covenant

Leave me wanting and scorched

Then transpire the dreams beneath the dreams

Find where I stand thin and quaked

Outside of time

Outside the fire

In the smoke rising

In the air breathed

Take me into you, then

As all liquid dissolves and escapes

Take me into you

With lungs embrace

Blanketing babe

Beyond the flesh

Beyond the bone

Move me

As soothing river

To every crevice

Every corner

From the tips of extended fingers

To the edge of grounded heel

Until bursting

This phoenix child

Of Indigo eyes

And Ebony wings

Flies forth

Gasping for home

~~~

By Samantha Craft, Dec. 2012

 

278: Hold My Heart

~~~~~

Hold My Heart

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Hold My Heart

Hold my tender heart

So patient and so true

Returning within

The ocean of you

Far beyond imagination

Beneath the layers of soul

Tucked between tomorrow and today

Intermingled with dreams of whole

And there

Be

Your back pressed against

The garden gate of me

Your hand freed

Dipped into the hearth fire

Where we connect

Touching desire

Of earth angel

Searching ceased

Essence calmed

Surrendered belief

Fingers dancing

Within the threshold

Entwined

In the light of home

~~~~

~ Sam Craft December 2012

Photo on 12-15-12 at 8.39 AM

277: Painting My Angst

I like goals. I like plans that have an end result.

Painting or any art, is VERY HARD for me to do.

This morning I had so much angst, and I needed to release it.

I took out this canvas and oil paints. And had at it. I don’t even have paint brush cleaner, yet. Oil paints do not dissolve in water, I learned.

I blasted music from August Rush. I squirted tubes of paint, used assorted brushes, and made quite a mess of red on my sleeve. It symbolized the blood of my tears, I figure.

The first hour of painting was all confusion, worry about end product, about not being good enough.

I started putting that frustration into the painting itself—layers upon layers of personal angst atop painting angst, along with many other emotions.

I slowly started to let myself be. It was liberating, though still very uncomfortable.

By the end of the second hour, I said what the heck, and let loose.

I am hoping to continue to paint some more pieces and release a new part of myself onto canvas.

Painting isn’t as comforting to me as words and writing are, and isn’t what I would consider my “gift” or “skill.”

But that is the entire point for me: to explore something without trying to perfect, prove, teach, show, or learn.

To do something without an end goal or audience in mind.

I like to step away from the painting and look at it from far away.

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276: Taking the “Ladies” Out

I took the ladies out today. Just the three of us. Me and my boobs.

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Can you see my reflection? 🙂

Yep. Squishing-under-the-glass-time. Also know as Mammogram. A word which makes me think of screaming for my mamma and grandma, all in one heated breath! Yelp.

I like to smile thinking of a very special machine built for men, where they can go and get their balls squished under glass and be man-handled.  Not that I don’t love and appreciate men. I only say this as I believe this idea might provide equal ground and assist bridging the barriers between the male and female gender. Plus, the image is really fun to picture in my mind.

For some reason I think this would be a good theme song for men when they go for their ball exam:

Don’t ask me to analyze. It’s the beat, I suppose. No pun intended.

The old me, unlike the new and vastly transitioned me, would FREAK out about lab tests of any type. The old me put off this particular boob-squishiness for a bit, all out of fear. It’s not so much the test itself. It doesn’t hurt at all; it’s quite fast; and the technician had warm hands.

I freak about the time in between: the waiting period. That’s what I freak out about in life in general, that unknown zone. I’m not good with unknowns. Or at least I used to be no good. Now I’m pretty dang functional, borderlining on fabulous.

Today I focused on the positive. I didn’t allow any thoughts inside that weren’t beneficial. I imagined that my boobs, my lady friends, we were going to a party. I listened to Dancing Queen by Abba all the way to the appointment. Oh, what the heck. Here is the song again.

I sang at the top of my lungs. And I didn’t care who was watching. I hoped I made them smile. Or think: What is that girl so happy about?

If they’d asked, I would have said, I’m putting my ladies on stage, out in the spotlight. I’m bringing them out to PARTY.

That was and is my attitude. I make it so. I made this a positive experience.

To keep my spirits lifted and to protect my bubble of love from outsiders who might unknowningly spiritually intrude upon my awesome zone of energetic space, I used all sorts of protective devices. I have my lovely nana’s rosary in one pocket, and in the other pocket a stone a special friend found for me on the beach. I sprayed myself with a protection spray made of various natural herbs. I even dabbed on my Tibetan Holy water, blessed by Buddhist monks. I put a drop of olive and garlic tincture on my tongue—energy vampires begone!!! I made my hair look lovely, and lips inviting. We were going out on the town, half-naked, after all.

I wore purple to represent my third-eye chakra. I grounded myself and got super comfy in my big tan poncho. And I donned my fabulous amber healing necklace. At the last minute I grabbed my lady’s out purse, the one with the glittery sequence.

I listened to my inner voice all morning. And she guided me. First suggestion: Limit the caffeine. So I ordered a decaf peppermint mocha coffee and water for hydration. I forgot my water, but two people, and older man and an employee, came running outside after me to give me my water. I felt special.

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I drove to my destination, taking an exit I don’t usually take, and trusting my intuition,  found a new short cut. I arrived super early, and had ample time to focus on the message on my bumper sticker

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And I rubbed the thick moss off a stoic tree and talked to him about his beauty. And then this stud muffin tree beckoned me over. I couldn’t resist him. Big HUG!

I took lots of photos, but my phone wouldn’t work. That’s okay. I did manage to capture a little detail I added to my entrance paperwork. A little extra love, never hurts.

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You are missing out on the photo of me in my gown and a great shot of the boob-crusher machine.

I talked the technicians ears off. Go figure? She had to remind me to keep my mouth still while she was clicking the device to capture the rare images of my glorious ladies. I asked her if it hurt woman with small boobs more. She kind of grinned, and said, “No, it’s just different.” I wondered for a bit, what that meant. Then wondered if she thought that I thought I had big boobs and was bragging. I almost explained, but was distracted by the way my flesh appeared all flattened and spread. I remarked about the overall comfort of the machine and the improvement in technology. And of course, I verified twice when my results would be available.

I did mention about my Aspergers and my son’s Aspergers. It’s kind of what I do.

Turns out someone she works with has a son that just got diagnosed with Aspergers. I offered out my phone number to give to her friend as a gesture of support–cause that’s kind of what I do, too.

But no! WAIT…..

My technician got a little bit happy, and instead of taking my number, she asked me to return to the dressing area and wait there. She specified, “Wait here. Get dressed, and I’ll be back.” I thought it was funny that she told me to get dressed. I wasn’t about to meet a stranger half-naked.

Minutes later, I hear two ladies outside my curtain whispering: “Do you think she is dressed, yet?” And I’m thinking, behind my curtain: This is the oddest way I’ve ever entered a room before to meet someone for the first time.

I open the curtain, swishhhh, all dressed, and feeling like I’m the wizard in the Wizard of Oz, popping out with my hand extended. We hit it off, the kind lady technician and me; and before we are too deep in conversation, another lady nearby pops out of her curtain, still in her gown, not yet finished dressing. She says: “Me. Me, too. Give me your number and name. My son has Aspergers.”

So there we are laughing and talking in the middle of the mammogram dressing room, so much so that we had to hush our giggles. I even took their photo, with the one still in her gown! It was for my blog, I said. My Aspergers itself pretty much giving me the liberty to do and say anything, so I said teasingly to myself.

I left just so very happy and pleased.

My only intention entering that radiology department today was to make connections, to brighten someone’s day, and to make a difference. That’s what me and my ladies set out to do. All dolled up and out on the town, we just wanted to touch someone with our love.

~~~~~~~~

^the song my grandpa’s spirit sang for two days to the seer, until he met with me, and figured out the message was for me. See Yesterday’s post if you are confused. Or take a nap. Or just nod like you understand, like I frequently do when others are talking and I haven’t got a clue.^

Now I’m going to listen to this song over and over. Me and my ladies, we feel like a good cry:

….. To make you feel my love. Hopeless romantic at heart.