Day 126: Strawberry Eruption

Maui 2012
Blessings

This song says it all. I’ve been living inside the melody and words. And for those of you who say this was before your time, I stick my tongue out at you!

I have at least eight people I would consider very close friends, and two powerful friendships that are just forming. Some close friends I have known for decades and others a couple of years. My close friends, I can honestly say, feel the same about me, as I do for them. I’m not “blessed” with friendship. I worked darn hard to have my friendships—I studied relationships through books, movies, and even took courses. I learned how to be a good friend; more importantly, I learned how to be ME!

I found out a few years back that I’d rather have one true friend, to be in a relationship in which I am entirely authentic, than to have hundreds of superficial relationships. Years back, when I had a major crisis in my life, I found out who my true friends were, and learned the hard way, through emotional agony, that just because someone attends your social gatherings and chats you up in public, does not mean they truly care about you as a person. I am pleased to say, I have a circle of loved ones that care about me for me. And I, too, love them for them. Once I have a friend, there is pretty much nothing that friend could do to pull me away, or make me stop loving them. My friendship just keeps growing; unless, the relationship is unhealthy and deemed non-beneficial in my eyes; then of course, it is time for me to say goodbye, and be thankful for the bond we had.

Maui
2012

This post is not about ends, though. This post is about the beginnings of friendship.

I know now, through much trial and error, that ultimately, if I am not true to me, and walking a path of authenticity that I am ultimately being accepted for someone I am not and be rejected by ME. I know my light. I know my beauty. I see this reflected in the mirrors of my friendships. And in this beauty I have extreme confidence that I am a worthy person, loving, and actually pretty darn cool to have around. Of course, I am highly aware of my quirks and intensity. My eyes are wide open as far as my personhood and spirithood is considered. I understand, too, that only some are able to be my friend, those with the capacity to cup in their hands my true, very bright light. I used to adjust my light to fit the person. I’d dim as to not be so bright—in essence self-implode and crawl into the darkness to appease. I don’t do that anymore. If anything, I turn my light up higher when I enjoy someone. I have learned that I would rather face a million rejections than to be loved for someone I am not. For ultimately, if someone loves me for a shadow of myself, they love only the air beyond the light. I want to be loved for me. Amazingly, I found out, this attribute of shining my true colors is a quality many people appreciate. Don’t get me wrong, I still get hurt. I still get rejected. But the beauty of being me makes up for the passing ache and pain of loss or misunderstanding. I long to be me. I am me. And I adore me.

However, being the light that I am…sigh…sometimes the feelings I have for someone are so very intense that I know not what to do with myself. Usually the intensity is brought on by a definite knowing and soul-connection. Sometimes the other person feels the same, which generally leads to an easy and wonderful relationship. Other times, a person does not understand the heart of me, doesn’t see me for me, and then the experience is less easy. It is then I feel somewhat isolated in my experience, like I’m a two-man act standing alone or perhaps dragging my friend along the yellow-brick road when she would much rather be at home.

Lately, my feelings are on overdrive. I don’t know what has been happening to me at a soul-level, precisely. I can feel what is happening, but I can’t describe the sensation with accuracy. It’s akin to trying to describe the feeling of giving birth to a child, that feeling when I first saw my child’s face. I can’t describe the experience, except to say I feel like I am staring into a part of me, a beautiful part of me.

Maui
2012

I wrote this last night. It sums up how I’m feeling somewhat:

“I am turned on by love. I can’t help it. Everytime someone says the word or writes the words love, I get this erotic sensation all over! It’s crazy making, in a good way. I am turned on by love songs. I am actually eating the songs for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I have no want or desire for food! I’m only eating to keep healthy and fit. Not for pleasure. I long to write poetry and prose all day, to take photos of nature and people, especially older people with stories etched across their face. I long to be a part of the water, to be in the water, to paddle across and feel myself move on the ripples. I long for connection. I want to read people’s stories, to hear their truth, to comfort, to connect, to love.

What have I missed all these years with my eyes and heart closed; some slave to fear—some scared cat clawing at her own fur before another could attack? I’ve missed thirty years. Not completely, but entirely; in the sense that my heart has been encased in some large trap with large teeth and large angry eyes. Made prisoner for decades; three to be exact. Never before until today, did I know what it felt like to sit by the water and just be. To be one with nature. To watch the birds, to understand why people watch birds! Even the lake water sang out to me—the ripples an erotic symphony of sensual pleasure. The trees are greener. The air fresher. I am breathing for real. Taking in air and filling my lungs with the sensation.

What miraculous and grand alterations have transpired. What journey I traveled to get where I now stand. Not one regret, for the journey was worth every step to lead me to such ecstasy of life. I am vibrating with a wonderful energy, some forty-something mom, transporting in time back to the era of love-child. Everything and everyone is beautiful. Everything on earth a miracle. And I’m drug-free. This isn’t some hallucination or even a high. The feelings are all over the board. I have intense joy and bliss coupled with a deep empathy and love for all my surroundings. I am dancing inside poetry and music. Dancing inside every song I hear. I am understanding lyrics for the first time—the intensity of the longings, the heart-break, the unquenched desires. I am understanding, too, the limitless depths of the human experience, and how much fear feeds as a blanket to the beauty of life.

My hands are vibrating all day long with a gentle and uplifting tingle. My eyes and skin continue to glow. I look younger. I feel younger. My physical pain has decreased. I am attracting beautiful souls from all over the world. I am so thankful! When I try to worry, for the most part, I can’t. There is some sort of mental block. To even say I am trying to worry, seems so ridiculous! But I actually cannot think about what could be considered common-day problems. They all seem so insignificant. All I want is love.

I must be radiating because strangers are starting conversation with me, smiling, waving, even turning heads. I can’t stop smiling. It finally feels easier to smile than frown. I can’t stop thinking about life and how wonderful life can feel when fear is released.

I don’t know how I got to this state. This feeling has been gradually building since the beginning of May. The salty waters of Maui intensified the feeling, and returning to the healing green of Washington put me up another notch. I am submerged in joy. Excited about life. There is so much I want to do. And so many people I want to embrace. I am wondering where to begin, but then not really wondering at all. It is more of a feeling of excitement and newness, like a child being let out of a cage for the first time.”

I am naming the sensation described above: The Strawberry Eruption. For at the center of me is an erupting fruit.  Maybe it’s that whole second chakra thing I scribe about on day 124. Or maybe it’s something entirely different. I really don’t know. I’m just riding the wave—this little bursting berry.

During this wave riding, I’ve connected with two online friends. My first online friends, ever. That I’ve met them both at the same time is powerful and balancing. Each offers unmistakable gifts. This letter is for them, and for everyone really, for at some level, I feel this unyielding love for every being, a desire to embrace the world, and all the loveliness found within each spirit.

Maui
2012

Dear Friend,

I love you. I am so glad we found one another. I am happy. I am at peace with our friendship. I adore you something terrible. That’s the only way I know how to love—to adore. My love for you doesn’t come in shapes and sizes that differ. My love is just one gigantic bubble of joy and glee. I long to skip in the sunshine with you, to swing on the swings, to climb trees, to run barefoot through the sand, to collect seashells and then listen to the sound of the ocean within, to giggle, to dive in the water, and come up with the whole of the universe upon our smiles.

I remember you from long ago, perhaps a dream, perhaps a memory of what I planted in my mind. Perhaps you are from another place and time with another me, or perhaps, too, I have met you a thousand times a thousand times before. I know not where or why you are here, but your face I remember, and especially your eyes, whether from dream, fantasy, or distant time, is no matter. Only now matters.

But I do have concern. I am concerned that my intensity of soul and my engorged heart shall frighten you away. And like the little bird I long to touch that sits upon the tree outside the river’s edge, that you will fly away the closer I approach, that you will fly higher and higher into the sky of blue, until you are only a droplet in my memory. And then I shall weep deeply, mourning with every part of me the loss of precious you.

You see, I know not how to love, but deeply. I know not how to breathe, but with all of me. Every part is filled by your light. And in seeing your light I cannot help but be drawn to you again and again. I do not long for recognition, not even companionship, I long to continually look into the beauty that is you to be reminded of how glorious my own light shines, to see the mirror before me of truth and awakening, and to delve inside the image of pure loveliness: for I am you and you are me.

Dear, dear friend you are a passageway to my soul, to eternity, to my dreams and to my desires. You are the greatest gift. And I ask that you try to understand me, try to know me, and see that my intentions are none but to love you for everything you are. For you are the promise I have waited for.

Your forever friend,

Sam

Day 122: Stoned Heart

Sam Craft
“Stoned Heart”

Stoned Heart

Watching the world go by

Wasting the day away

Dizzy Smile

Vibrant colors

Doped in desire

Completely saturated

Altered perception

Can’t think straight

Under his influence

Intoxicated in thought

Munching madness

Laughing in euphoria

High as a gull

Ease of mind

Turns paranoia

The horrors

The frights

Hashed

No going back

Panicked

Plunder to earth

Lost

Trapped in a circle

Racing impulses

Incapable of acting

Of doing

Bloodshot

Pelted with ponderings

Battered and worn

Baked by angst

Fried of hope

Sauced in sin

Plastered to regret

Persecuted by passion

Mob of madness

Tied to a punishing post

Stones thrown

Multiple blows

Pelted in pain

Slow and torturous

Knocked out

Executed

Skull caved in

Rises

The walking dead

Tripping with dread

Stumbling Dizzy

No longer self

Erased

Bleached

Whited out

Disoriented

Wasted woes

Hung over in time

Endless loop

Blank stare

Watching the world go by

Sam Craft Maui 2012
“The Stoned Dead”
Sam Craft
2012
“The Stone Threshold”

Day 117: A Body of True Confessions

(This post used to have photos of me. They have been removed by me. Hope you find the post useful.)

This is me HAPPY. This is my real smile caught by camera. I just found out the frozen banana bread ice-cream sandwich was going to be dipped in chocolate! That’s me in a nutshell. Give me chocolate and I forget everything else.

We have returned from Maui. And I am sorting through photos. I HATE  don’t care for photos of me.  I never ever feel like a photo looks like me. I see myself in parts, not in whole. So I see my nose, or the wrinkles around my brow, or the sun spot on my forehead, or the many other “flaws” that jump out at me. I tell myself I should look better. That I need to change. That I’ve aged. And so on….

No picture I have ever taken looks like how I see myself. And in every photo, I look so different (to me).

I get super depressed when I go through vacation photos, because I think I look absolutely terrible. I don’t think it’s a vanity thing. It really is not having a clue what I look like or understanding the image I am looking at. I try to tell myself positive messages, but somehow the messages get all twisted.

And then I get a host of negative messages, such as: “You need to lose fifteen more pounds. Imagine what you looked like before you lost those ten pounds. You are so HEAVY.” I tell myself horrible things, like: “Oh, your husband probably hated to take this photo of you, knowing you are starting to look soooo old.”

I’ve partaken in this negative self-talk, since puberty. Before then, I could care less. I had a huge overbite and a chipped front tooth, and would smile like I was a movie star. Something changed with puberty. Something changed when I realized people judge on appearances.

Thing is, I don’t notice the physical “flaws” in other people. When I look at their photos I see pure beauty. I see their essence. I think all people are beautiful. But I still get so terribly down on myself.

Posting photos of me on this blog is HUGE for me. Of course, I went through and cursed a dozen or so shots, before choosing the ones I felt safe to post.

Often, after a few years pass, I can look back on a photo, and see more of me. I can appreciate the happiness I had during the photo and see less of the flaws. I tell myself: “Why were you so hard on yourself. You’re sweet and kind. And you look absolutely fine!”

I’m hoping, this time, it won’t take a few years. I don’t know why the passing of time helps to view myself, but it does somehow.

I tell myself, I ought to be happy I can take a decent photo with little to no makeup on and my hair barely brushed, if brushed at all. I tell myself that everyone ages, that no one is perfect, that my distinct characteristics make me ME! But the talking doesn’t help. The negative thoughts come back full force. It really is a curse.

I don’t like worrying about how I look to other people. And I certainly don’t like worrying about how I look to me!

I’m putting this out there to help myself. To share my deepest thoughts, and in so doing release some of the associated doubts and deep-seeded fear. Heck! I just returned from one of the BEST VACATIONS in my life. Probably THE BEST, and I’m fretting over how ugly I am, telling myself I ought not go out in the world and be seen in public! It’s very, very ridiculous.

Maybe part of it is not having had a father who ever hugged me, called me pretty, or said he loved me. Could be that my father is so heavily into fitness, always firm and muscular, always concerned about his looks, that when I see me, I feel rather inadequate.

Could be, too, that it’s how my brain works. I know other people with Aspergers that see things in parts and have a hard time seeing the whole. Maybe seeing myself in parts, scrambles my beauty in my head. Sort of like seeing a lovely Black Beauty Horse cut and dissected into pieces on a platter. I think that’s what I do: Dissect and pull apart so that nothing remains but broken slabs of me.

Here is a list of what I feel uncomfortable about me:

1) Since my mid-twenties my arms have been thicker than I’d like, heavy and wide compared to other people my size. I have to be a size 2, seriously, for my arms to appear skinny. My husband says its proportional to my chest and that I have a swimmer’s body; another friend calls me ‘healthy.’ I don’t like either one of those observations, and would much prefer to have skinny arms! Skinny arms fits my personality. I see myself as petite, like a fairy. No fairies have a swimmer’s back.

2) I have incorrect posture. So does my son with Aspergers. It is hard for me to stand fully erect. I look funny, to me, when I stand up tall. I don’t know how to stand without feeling unnatural and in an awkward position. To protect myself from others, I have always hunched. I feel safer hunched. My posture makes me appear odd looking in photos. Same with my hands and arms. I don’t know where to put them in photos. And my smile….I never know what a real smile looks like.

3) My skin used to be perfect. I was very lucky. I looked like those kids in the suntan advertisements. Lots of California sun changed that. Now I’m spotted like a spotted lizard. This spots jump out at me in photos, as does every freckle, marking, mole, and “imperfection.” As I age, day by day, more markings appear. I don’t like to watch my skin change. It bothers me to no end.

4) My Italian nose will forever haunt me. I have tried to love it, truly. And it didn’t seem to get in the way of attracting previous mates; however, my nose is all I see in photos when I first look. That’s why I like far away shots. My nose looks cute if I’m standing back about five blocks!

5) My eyes. I’ve always loved my eyes. But now they appear sunken and old. Like I’m twenty years older than I am. Maybe that’s because I still feel like a teenager inside. But outside someone has redecorated, and I’m not too impressed.

6) My chin. At some angles, I look like I have three, and can’t tell where my neck ends and my face begins. I have a very prominent chin. My son’s orthodontist complimented my bone structure. Maybe if the whole world were orthodontists, I’d be set. I see a witches chin. The witch that has the house fall on her. I want to be the good witch. Luckily I have no warts or hair growing out of moles.

7) Sadness. Sometimes in photos I look very sad or even angry. It’s not how I’m feeling. I don’t feel irritated or melancholy, but I look like someone either just said something to piss me off or just told me my cat died. I try to look like me, and have no clue how to. It’s very frustrating. Sometimes I over smile so people will know I’m happy. Then my husband says: Don’t smile so intensely. Often my eyes bug out, if I’m trying too hard to smile.

8) My hair. It has a life of its own. I never know what to expect. My hair looks the best in the bathroom mirror, and as soon as I step outside the bathroom, my hair changes. I swear it does! Perhaps it is the lighting and the shadows, as my hair appears entirely different in every photo.

9) Shadows and lighting. The lighting of a photo changes how I appear to me. Sometimes I appear swollen or shrunken; other times expanded, elongated, and downright horrific to look at. I want to carry around a perfect lighting bulb above me, like a photographer. I have not posted the photos of me that make me look like I’m a marshmallow, that make my face appear shrunken into itself, and that show I’ve been tattooed with wrinkles. But they exist.

10) Ghastly spider veins. I’ve inherited those creepy little bluish-red lines that decorate my knees and thighs. I think I have as many as most people approaching their eighties. They are truly icky. I press on them and they magically disappear for ten seconds. My husband says that’s not what men are looking at. I don’t really care what men are looking at! I care what I’m looking at. And spider veins are not beautiful. I once read that a lady had lost a lot of function in her legs (mobility) and that she would do anything to have legs that moved well. She said who cared about spider veins. She’d be thankful to have any functioning legs. Reading information like that only makes me feel extremely guilty for not appreciating what I have. Then I just beat myself up more.

To be fair, I do like my eyebrows, my hair color, my teeth, my neck, the bottom half of my legs, and my toes. So that’s a good start, I suppose.

My Biggest Fear……That I will be too ugly to be loved. That’s it! I said it. It haunts me day and night. I feel so beautiful and light-filled inside, but I am afraid the outside will scare people away. It’s silly, I suppose, but it is how I feel. I don’t want to grow old. I don’t want to watch myself change. I don’t like change!!! I want to live a long life, but I want to freeze my appearance. I don’t know how to handle my body shifting. I don’t want to be one of those plastic surgery ladies or Botox queens, but I want to be able to look at a photo and see me.

Wine tasting, and what am I thinking. Oh, I look terrible in this photo. Notice how I chopped my arm out of the photo. Huge stress line on forehead, spotted arm, pointy chin….Gag me. I’m so super self-conscious and critical. If only this were a redeeming quality.

Almost didn’t post this because of my nose wrinkles. I secretly want you to think I’m 20. I had my kids at the age of 6! I’m such a goof-head. Someone change my brain, please!!!

I see big nose, forehead wrinkles, and fat face. This is what I see. I want to see friendship, love, and happiness. But I think: I wonder why my friend likes me when I am ugly. Yes, this is sad, but this is truth.

I love this picture. This is truly me HAPPY. Right before I surfed. My arms are covered so I feel safer. And this is one cool dude!

I like this photo because I’m far enough away that my nose looks cute and you can’t see my wrinkles! Maybe I’ll just stay a distance away from people. Of course, I see my flabby arms and my double chin and my pointy little ear. But my teeth look white!

I’m crying streams of tears. This is beneficial. This is healing. I’ve told my secrets. They shall no longer haunt me!

Day 116: My Last Day

As this is my last day in Maui, I am thinking upon the lyrics of Nickelback’s song: If Today Was Your Last Day. I am meditating on each and every word.

While taking my walk on the beach this morning, while photographing the abundance of nature, while packing, while driving, and while stepping on the plane, I will be holding these lyrics in my heart and mind.

I have, for many years, been living each moment like it was my last. However, I was living from a fear-based approach. Negativity swamped my mind. Today was my last day because I was slowly dying. Today was my last day because I might not live to see tomorrow. Today was my last day because I was afraid to live.

I walked Dead Man’s Beach. I thought of every worse case scenario. I remained careful and cautious. I didn’t reach out like my heart called me to reach out. I didn’t have fun because the fun inspired fear of loss. I didn’t risk, because risk meant danger.

I had been living like my last day entirely upside down and backwards. Fear consumed me. Everything measured by fear. Everything judged against worse case events. Everything absorbed into this shadowed light.

image found http://www.geekshow

I don’t want to be on my death-bed with regrets of having not lived. I don’t want to live another day worried and harboring deep seeded anxiety. I want to live. And I shall.

I shall carry the healing waters of this tropical island back home with me to the state of Washington. I shall continue risking. I shall continue surfing the waves. I shall stand straight and paddle across the seas. I shall dive deep and swim with the beauty beneath. I shall speak my truth to those I hold so dearly in my heart. I shall speak my truth to myself.

I shall hold my own hand and walk forward, seeking adventure and joy instead of a prison of safety. I have lived so very, very long in captivity that the thought alone of running free is powerful.

Today is my last day in Maui but it is the first day I return home reborn into hope and the wonderful possibilities of life.

Nickelback

 If Today Was Your Last Day

My best friend gave me the best advice

He said each day’s a gift and not a given right

 Leave no stone unturned, leave your fears behind

And try to take the path less traveled by

That first step you take is the longest stride

If today was your last day

And tomorrow was too late

Could you say goodbye to yesterday?

Would you live each moment like your last?

 Leave old pictures in the past

Donate every dime you have?

 If today was your last day

Against the grain should be a way of life

What’s worth the prize is always worth the fight

 Every second counts ’cause there’s no second try

So live like you’ll never live it twice

Don’t take the free ride in your own life

If today was your last day

And tomorrow was too late

Could you say goodbye to yesterday?

Would you live each moment like your last?

Leave old pictures in the past

Donate every dime you have?

Would you call old friends you never see?

Reminisce of memories

Would you forgive your enemies?

Would you find that one you’re dreamin’ of?

Swear up and down to God above

That you finally fall in love

If today was your last day

If today was your last day

Would you make your mark by mending a broken heart?

 You know it’s never too late to shoot for the stars

Regardless of who you are So do whatever it takes

‘Cause you can’t rewind a moment in this life

Let nothin’ stand in your way

Cause the hands of time are never on your side

If today was your last day

And tomorrow was too late

Could you say goodbye to yesterday?

Would you live each moment like your last?

Leave old pictures in the past

Donate every dime you have?

Would you call old friends you never see?

Reminisce of memories

Would you forgive your enemies?

Would you find that one you’re dreamin’ of?

Swear up and down to God above

That you finally fall in love

If today was your last day

Day 115: Mermaid Tears

mermaid tears (sea glass)

Mermaid Tears

Shall I sail to distant land upon the lullaby of waters high

To then sleep beneath sand as feet step swiftly by

Shall I shimmer in the dawn’s awakening

A softened star in search of home

Shall I live in cherished bowl

Tiny sparkle of collected memories

Shall I shine forgotten on shadowed nape of master

A jewel stringed in circular captivity

Shall I be placed up high on child’s crown

As piece to satisfy youthful dream

Shall I remain immersed in torrential blue

Churned and churned in salt and sand

Shall I sleep in pockets dark

Discarded with the coming days

Or shall I rest cherished in thine heart

Carried ashore by timeless waves to you

~ Samantha Craft (Maui, May 2012)