Caring for those that you hold dear is the exemplification of the art of love. Listening and talking and writing and typing and chatting towards truth and understanding are necessary to the journey of healing. Blogging past what has been and become of you, only to write and read and revise what has became you who you are is the way. Working through the trenches and viewing the ugly mud of emotional baggage makes you heavy...keep going.
Inviting life into love is the way. You cannot love until you live. Microemotional stresses bring Macroaggressional results. Be wary of what you let affect your state. Take glory in protecting your happiness and share it as soon as you feel it. Spreading the love like Land O' Lakes is layering sweetness with cream and salt. The sweetness of faith is always there, the cream like a constant you that is softened with patience, and the salt that is sometimes there, sometimes not, most like the trials of life - they too will pass.
Letting raindrops carry emotions through the air on a two way street, take time to gaze at the wonders of the world. Each little thing that we overlook is viewing us as superior. Missing the importance of what makes the world work and the provisions we are GIVEN and that we sometimes destroy, is in need of reassessment.
You have to give to get these days, but we should practice a state of giving with no expectations of return. Genuinely taking should inspire genuine giving that brings smiles and laughter to the ones we know and know not.
Smiles are free...so why do we constantly use more muscles to frown at the world? We take our trials on the defensive instead of being welcoming...Welcome your trials with an active preparation to be changed for the better. Develop a plan of action, send a smile, give someone your heart, send a donation, send a letter, send a text, an email a good thought....send love.
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Sharing is....
Tuesday, March 3, 2009Inspiration
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Things have crossed my mind attempting to penetrate my thoughts. I tried to reconnect with them, but I became busy and too important.
In taking time and listening to what others say and don't say, do and fail to do, I try to find the spaces inbetween and look for solace and peace.
Intertwining the mind with space and life, I cling to what astonishes me. The things that drive my day to day operations have become distinct and filled with a desire to record everything. A desire to communicate everything to this world and give meaning to the things that are incapable to be explained.
Quietly I bring write to life and recast the characters into a rerun that I hope to use as a acknowledgment of reality.
I type.
Writing is more than just a moment, it is a choice. It is a time to reflect on life and publish it to the masses. A choice to give life to what others believe is myth. A choice to write the right words in the right space for the right time in the right mind - set.
I learn...
Impressing me and others, I read the work of those who have come before me and stare in awe at the pages. Learning from forms of writing to places of reference, I have begun to see the skill it takes and the skill that lacks that makes a poet, that makes an artist, that makes one - make prose.
The prose that begins and ends with pause. That is intertwined and unable to be disconnected with feeling, they type that brings solace to grief, and increase in love. The kind that slices silence and brings awareness. The seal of wax stamped on a scarlet letter "A" to be exact. The way that brings the "sham" to "wow", absorbing more than you think it can, and releasing more than you think it will...
...wow.
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La la la la la....
Thursday, February 26, 2009
She says, I say it, others say it too...but not like us. It is when things are good that we quote this, when we are feeling the need to lighten up a mood that has brought us grief we quote this. We quote this in caring and affection, and in a weird communication to the other that contentment is reached.
I am thinking today of the times where I have hummed or sang snippets loudly and with joy. Times where I remember the days of stress and the happiness that made it weigh less on my shoulders.
My mother is coming to town and I am excited to see her. She is coming despite her newly discovered fear of flying, recently induced from the news coverage of plane accidents. She will be 48 this year inshaAllah, and she is still full of all of the hopes I have for her.
I of course like to reflect in the moment of now, and realize that I am not as comfortable as I thought writing instead of 'prose-ing' because it requires more feeling. It is more current and bathed in 'right now' thinking. I am usually the type to reflect on something and then write, so it comes out more profound I guess...
Yeah, so I guess I'll put my coat back on until I get more comfortable with this and prose for now...
Listening to the bumpy sounds on my way to 'blog' I wonder if it ever will be? Unsure of what is acceptable to be made public or said, I tried it anyway. Still unsure of clear thoughts and reminiscence, I think I will leave the deep writing for my life story. For now, the prose intellect will be manifest through these paragraphs of consciousness.
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Taking Off My Coat...
Tuesday, February 24, 2009Listening to the softly sounding but harshly blowing wind, I come inside to settle down. Longing to write feelings that are clear and constructed, I have to first take off my coat. Beginning to look around and find a spot to sit and write, I survey the area for pieces of familiarity. I keep it brief as I write during hours that are not all mine. I will prepare in a few to take off my coat, to remove my pad and pen and begin to share.
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DISsin' the unCONNECTED
Monday, February 23, 2009http://www.yout
*Not able to embed, sorry folks*
So yeah...in a time where wireless means connected and online means available, we have lost touch with what is natural. As we walk closely towards our end times, we look for things that give us immediate benefit and gratification. We do this all the while knowing that our good actions and generosity will be assessed later in the afterlife. How can this be? We look at the urgency of our needs and forget the urgency to depend on the One on who WE need. Forgetting the ones outside of our own minds, we lose connection with communities and believe that we can depend on a fruitless relationship. Take time. Time for asking and listening, for reflecting and devotion, for recognizing nature and inhaling the air of this earth. It blows and exists and has been created to help sustain us during our brief time here. Stop and feel it on your face. It is real and has no color, you cannot catch it or dispute its beauty. We spend more of our time texting and less writing, more thinking and less doing, more dreaming and less feeling, we have lost the essence of life through the things that have been created for us to use to live...then so, how much living are we really doing? Insert status here ______________________.
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And All That JAZZ
Friday, February 20, 2009
Went to a jazz show last night and it was great...music is a wonderful thing
Details and listen to a clip - http://www.jalc.org/concer
The result of that inspirational sound:
Blowing in the wind, I enter the exit of the privileged. Clicking towards the backstage, I see him...the epitome of a man that carries burden and trial with grace. A man who works for what he loves and what flows natural. Jazz. The surprise is a ticket to a life changing event. Jazz. Floating on the 'Blue Note' I sit center, upstairs, but feeling like front row. Watching the lights dim and strengthen with each set change, I give an open ear and heart to the lyrics that talk of love lost and refound, of things unfelt and unchanged. Of life. Jazz. Some slow tempo, some upbeat. All...that...Jazz. Not sure from where it came, but it seems to unconsciously unite some who have been at odds in past. The black and the white harmony coming to surface and bringing light to what is heard. An invisible thing sound is, but yet it penetrates the solid and makes the solid, fluid.
The chemistry that flows inbetween, the respect and attention given to the soloist, the harmony that communicates volumes, literally. Personally sharing struggles and compliments, each piece is poetic and composed carefully. Following notes gliding on scales along with improvisation that needs no explanation, applause fills the gap.
Sitting alone, next to my coat I enjoyed being welcomed into this experience. Listening and watching changes happen both with them and within me, I come to understand the importance of being cultured. Not only knowing your own but opening your mind to others, understanding the new and different and only taking those pieces that satisfy the moment. Not overindulging to bring boredom, but savoring to bring awareness.
Let this be an inspiration for those who don't and a validation for those who do -- try something new...
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Gliding without wings...
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Fluttering by, I begin to encompass the striking visibility and invisibility of me. Some of me is seen, some unseen, but all felt by those who are close. Riding on a wave, I avoid the people that may fall into my sting, hoping that they are not hurt by the extension of who I am. Gliding right, I struggle to keep myself clear of everyone, longing to float alone. Oooops...I stung him! Lengthy arms use to hug and endear, sometimes even devour, I wait patiently as they follow my lead. Swimming up and down and left and right, I try to lose direction in any way possible. Not diluting my purpose but influencing the nature of of others, I stick to what is clear and to what is true. Some see me as calming, some - electrifying, some - terrifying, some - beautiful, some - elusive...all aspects within reach and extending far beyond what you see, reaching deeper than you realize, until it is too late.
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