vision
undoubtedly, we become what we envisage
~ćlaude m. bristol
a fresh, new month.
a chance to do it all so much better.
my focus sharp. locked on a tomorrow of promise and pride.
i hold the pony leashes a little tighter. i can sense the ride amping up.
i'm no lone ranger by any means.
we are all taking our own journeys.
side by side, cheek to cheek, hand in hand.
although naysayers need not apply for my rodeo.
cynical, gloomy, and downhearted drags can dribble to the side joylessly.
i envision only a future of window and light.
open to brighter days and ultimately a shinier me.
whether it be acting, teaching, blogging, or binge eating {until the cows stop producing that damn cheese},
i remain faithful to my bleeding, beating, wide open heart.
a fabulous february to you m'loves.
a step back
oodles of ravishing shoes in our world.
fancy shapes, heights, and designs.
fetching to me may read utterly ridiculous to you.
we find beauty in our own way. it should be personal.
i tend to forget this.
yesterday i forgot my kinship to someone who is struggling.
why would that person act like that?! i would NEVER do it that way!!
{especially in such put together shoes}
but shame on me;
who am i to really know until i've walked in theirs?
morning glory
minutes before my cranky alarm chimes her rallying eep
the warm aroma of my morning coffee has already kissed and coddled my gently awake.
the simple, pre-bedtime chore of setting my pot's timer rewards a million times over.
steaming, spicy perk ready for me with a smile as i stumble down to a mocha scented kitchen.
half of my brain still dancing with the mermaids and pucks on the pillow;
i'm wakeful enough to feel tickled and merry for my morning brew.
happy tuesday loves.
tick tock
the clock's second hand cracks like my very own desktop rapping headmistress.
my current peck and pace scantily permits playtime of any kind.
{although my daily fit of giggles somehow always find their way to erupt and emerge}
my list these days just seems more baseball field than bucket.
tis the first year this feathery, pink boa has started to constrict around my neck.
i've worked to shear the feuding and clashing hedges in my path,
but worry some of them may hold buds for tomorrow's bouquets.
my heart, the cadence of my candlelight, the drip of the coffee pot, the rain on the roof....
they all hear it too: tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.
the house beats in one giant, gentle, cruel pulse.
image
happy new year
a toast to you m'loves.
cheers to finding beauty in the blah, rooting clever from the dim, and seeing sparkle in the dull.
let's twinkle-light up our lives a bit, and shine our gaiety 'round.
resolution number 1
i've wasted spent so much of my life consumed with what i put in my mouth.
is it healthy?
is it vegetarian?
is it organic?
is it good for the environment?
will it make me gain weight?
will it make me sleepy?
will i regret eating this later?
blah. blah. blah. boring!!!!!
what truly holds the heavy weight in my heart is what comes out of my mouth.
when i find myself the agent of gossip or other disparaging remarks at innocents' expense;
the shame and guilt i feel is worse than any post middle of the night binge induced remorse.
better to have just shoveled in that jar of peanut butter, bag of popcorn, and block of munster cheese.
at least the next day i could just work it off.
not so much with words.
chat, opinions, speculation..they all hinder and hurt more often than help.
this year rather than vex and irk about what goes into my mouth;
i hope to show more compassion toward what comes out of my mouth.
click image for source
wet
i've been row-boating my way to and fro work these last few days.
buckets, bathtubs, and barrels of rain showering down on california.
an early amuse bouche from santa if you ask me.
cold, rainy days make the cup of coffee steamier, the cheeks rosier, and arrival home cozier.
cheers to weather.
winter love
there is a privacy about it which no other season gives you.... in spring, summer and fall people sort of have an open season on each other; only in the winter, in the country, can you have longer, quiet stretches when you can savor belonging to yourself.
~ruth stou
a return to love
i am thankful for humility.
the angst i feel toward some is really just my own self distrust.
fear disguised as spite.
hurrah to pluck and faith.
happy thanksgiving to the bright side.
morning meditation
cheers to another chance.
courage in my cup, i recommit myself to expelling the naysayer in last night's slippers.
she hasn't served me.
it's a sweet farewell.
the dreamer has sat sideline too long.
an illusion no more,
hour by hour the scale tips further into fearless.
here. now.
trying not to react to my hash-brain which keeps showing up for breakfast.
one big, blend of besprinkled thoughts twirling around in my head;
propelling me into a fit of emotions.
good-naturedly rigid, i ground all ten toes into my sandbox of sanity.
this casserole of contradiction needs to kindle.
i'll wait.
the banjos duel it out: peace, rage, love, hate, safety, fear.
it may take a while, but that's ok.
in the meantime i'll be making sandcastles.
calming the seas
the view from the porthole indicates smooth sailing,
but the inside of my cabin has been bumpy, sharp, and vexing.
sour-faced i stomp around, tongue ablaze, set off by the slightest:
an unmannerly citizen, an offensive dog-owner, an out-to-lunch driver.
this isn't a hat i'm comfortable wearing.
it doesn't flatter my face; makes me ugly, scared, and separate.
it stays aboard as i disembark today.
already the tide is hushing, and i feel sprinkles of a smile.
i think i'll go scatter it on a sundae.
not so faraway land
every morning i wake up in fairy-tale land.
don't get me wrong;
the shires of my fanciful kingdom are also filled with death, disease, discourtesy, and deception.
yesterday, it took all of robin hood's outlaws, and one lady in waiting to reign in my tongue; as i let someone take a favor i did for them, and twist it into a giant, ugly fat lip for me.
i could choose to dwell in darkness.
to hate, to plot, and to stew.
i never feel better though.
i'm guilty of my own bitchy, bad-mannered days, where i'm sure someone feels like giving me a lashing or two.
yet, for me bitterness fades when i try to relate to those who hurt me.
they become less big, bad wolf and more frail, weak, insecure granny;
hiding from the world beneath the covers.
someone i can relate to and love.
this ilk of living allows me to wake up in each morning in katie-land.
{sometimes with a new friend too}
ladylike tuesday
sometimes the unexpected is the best bite.
i'll see your thunder and lightening,
and i'll raise you pleated dresses, chandelier earrings, and heels high.
rainy days and mondays
sorry ms carpenter i take issue with your libretto.
if i had my way, rain would appear weekly to wash away our muck.
her windy sidekick tagging along every so often, for extra exfoliation.
and every monday it's my chance to windshield wipe aside my baggage (typically pride and fear) that swaddles me tight in my anxiety blanket.
relief. breath. trust.
rainy days and mondays always get me right.
7 years bad luck
no amount of concealer can mask the snippets of sleep stymied.
this broken record has become a bore.
my undereyes of purple and grey are my must-have bags of the season.
they can take me from day into evening.
silver lining makes my eyes and heart bigger.
you're here
tap. tap. tap.
tap. tap. tap.
the sweet rap of raindrops scampering across our roof come three o'clock this morning.
my two crusty beasts and their surlier human all barked disgruntled disfavor to the interrupted slumber.
as hostess of the household it was my duty to welcome and usher in our new seasons' alms.
i robed up and received the first hints of fall:
big, giant gumdrops of rain, a charcoal sky, and 60'F (tee hee).
so maybe i'm not wearing a parka, but at least the flip flops are put away {for a day}.
happy puddle splashing.