Graceful Mourning

Life moves through my body
My breath in a perfect pause
Muscles are tense, fluid like rain
I move slowly, carefully, freely
I lose sense of noise, hear every beat
Note
Chime
I see not beyond this space
But feel your energy in my blood

Please don’t make me stop
I have not finished yet
You gave me the tree
Her sap
Her roots
My life is in her soil

The thing inside me
It’s fierce
It’s mad
Must I ignore or destroy or die?
It is all I know of desire
All I know of God
There, is the loveliness in me
Must I walk away?
I cannot
I see not beyond this space
But feel your energy in my blood

Note to Self

[[This is for the girl who gave away all her eggs.]]

I have decided to work on embracing the notion that humanity is a gift rather than a flaw. That God created us as these amazingly chaotic and beautiful and complex creatures of glory who are both in need of redemption and worthy of unconditional love.

Up until fairly recently, I have lived my life in polarities: either I worked hard to achieve perfection in hopes that I would be worthy to receive love or I gave up completely and simply declared that I just didn't need love. As I'm re-entering my faith journey and diving deeper into my soul-work, I'm coming to realize that it just isn't about what we do. It's about who we are.

This message is a familiar one. It's common; perhaps it's cliché. It sounds simple. It even looks simple. But for me, a girl who put all of her eggs in Perfection's basket, it feels pretty complicated. And sometimes, downright irritating.

If only there was a bright red button that I could push or a big blue pill that I could take so that this way of being could be instantly integrated into my being at the deepest, most intrinsic level. Well, there isn't. If there was such a thing, I certainly would have found it by now. I have come to realize that there is just nothing I can do to make being easier. And it is in this realization that I have decided to embrace the [crazy?] notion that humanity is a gift. And an intentional one at that.

It's not like Lady God sits up in her Lazy-boy watching us like some episode of Wipe Out cracking up every time we fall from our big plans only to see us get back up and try again expecting to get a different result. God created us imperfect and actually doesn't expect us to be anything else. But, we do. We expect to be flawless, first-prizers, who do it right every single time. It's like we expect to get apple juice by squeezing a banana. We weren't made to be perfect. We were made to love. Simple as that.

The message is that we are good and lovely just the way we are. Perhaps you are dark and twisty. Perhaps you're a deep feeler. Perhaps your thoughts bear the weight of the world.

Perhaps She has a bigger plan for us than Perfection.

Perhaps the dark and twisty, deep feeling, weight-of-the-world-bearing souls are the writers, artists, teachers, lovers, beings, who invite us deeper into our own journey of exploring and embracing the complex God-soul that we each uniquely bear.

Perhaps.

Me, Set Free

"I look forward to seeing what you set free looks like."

These are the words spoken to me by loving and ever so supportive husband while on one of our recent date nights. (Yes, we went from not having any in almost a year to two in the same weekend!) Being one of the most important people in my life, as well as my best advocate, I decided to let him in on my tiny little secret: the new blog. He was surprised (considering I've been anti-everything-writing for years now) and excited. He asked why and I said something like, "Oh you know, to help me find my Self. To see if I can still write. To begin to put myself out there. To try and see if it helps me feel closer to God, closer to life, closer to you, my dreams, my Self..." You know, nothing too major...

:)

So obviously, I have big plans for you, m' dear Blog.

Interestingly enough, I stumbled across my old blog from 2006 recently and it certainly sent me into a bit of a tailspin. First I was intrigued, then I felt shame and embarrassment and then I felt sad and then relieved and then finally, I landed in this space of feeling really proud. It's quite strange. The posts were so raw and risky and honest and unapologetic. It's like this girl (was it really me?) had a glimpse of her Self and was not sorry. She had no shame. I hear anger in her words but I hear hope. I hear hate but I hear love. I hear a white-knuckles, do-it-or-die-kind of commitment to authenticity.

And I am undone by it.

I remember being her. I remember loving it and hating it. I remember letting her out. She was vibrant in glory with unabashed zest and a real grudge against life. She was a take-me-or-leave-me kinda girl. I don't think she ever fully came to embrace all that was her being but I think she tasted freedom like she had never known. She had no idea it wouldn't last.

It wasn't long before I quieted her. Stuffed her. Sanded off the rough edges. Made her more pleasing. More balanced. More mature. And also more insecure, more ashamed, and more lost. She turned into me.

I envy her a bit, I do. I also believe that somewhere in the midst of these two parts, is a whole. A whole that is raw and risky and honest and unapologetic. A whole that is vibrant in glory with unabashed zest for life. A whole that has grieved those stories that took pain and ache and agony and turned them into anger and a shaking fist. A whole that is gentle and kind towards her Self and others. A whole that writes, speaks, prays, and dances with passion and gusto. A whole that breathes freedom and embraces humanity. A whole that says "I love me for me. And I hope you do too but it's really ok if you don't. Because I am enough."

Once, twice, three times a blogger.

Today is a hopeful day; so hopeful, that I started a blog. This will be my third attempt to contribute to the blogosphere and I am hopeful that this one will turn out better than the first two.

Blog #1 seemed quite similar to a consignment shop dressing room: Some potential but mostly lot of random pieces that were an accessory shy of being Lady GaGa's next big hit.

Blog #2 was a joint effort between my friend and I. We both enjoy being sassy and snarky and we loved the idea of having an anonymous blog where we could say whatever we wanted without having to take any personal responsibility for it. Thankfully, our souls are not as devious as we originally thought and the anonymous Bitch Blog was simply not sustainable.

And now we're to Blog #3. I've named her Wishful Keeping. This name came to be for several reasons: 1.) I wanted my blog name and the URL to match; 2.) all the other 327 name ideas I had chosen were already taken; and 3.) Wishful Keeping as a concept is intriguing, sounds kinda cool, and was 100% available (go figure). I know, deep right?

Welcome. Let's see where the words take us.