Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Inner Sparks

"Trust yourself. Create the kind of self that you will be happy to live with all your life. Make the most of the yourself by fanning the tiny, inner sparks of possiblity into flames of achievement." -Foster C. McClellan‎

I decided to clean out some of my old documents on my computer and in Google Docs. I found a few lost poems and story ideas. I put them into folders to come back to them since I have two new ideas fighting for my attention. I need to figure out what exactly to hand into Stone Circle (my critique group) next week. I have an image in my head that I think I am going to write down next. First, I figured I would share one of my "lost" poems.


A world is measured by years,
by decades, by centuries,
by millenniums--
yet, here I am unknown,
measured by my family,
my friends, sometimes
what of myself?
I am lost in this world,
maybe displaced with
some guidance to find
my way, learning only so
little in this time--
love is measured by
blood, by memories,
by dreams, by chemicals,
by magic--
it causes a war within myself,
of obligation, of understanding,
of acceptance, of misguidance,
of peace--
drowning in the complications
rather than taking in the sunsets,
the leaves, the words, the kisses,
the wide sky--
it is there somewhere for the taking,
in the moments whenI learn to breathe.


Sunday, January 22, 2012

Nightlights: Sublime Moments

Sometimes, I need a nightlight. Something that coaxes me through the dark and bring back some sense of calm about everything around me. They are my sublime moments.

One comes from one night.

I woke up rubbing my eyes because of a bright light pouring in through my bedroom window. My bedroom window faced the north so the sun and moon never directly touched it. My window did face the yard, but this wasn't headlights. I put on my glasses, and with amazement, the northern lights shimmered their haunting dance in front of me. I went to my desk (the very one that I am writing from right now) and sat on it, gazing up into the sky in amazement. I didn't dare dress and go outside since it was one of our freezing cold North Dakota nights. I could feel a slight wind through my thin nightshirt that I tugged over my legs, and I clutched them close to my body to remain warm.

The Tor
Glastonbury, England
I don't know how long I sat there, the winter cold sharpening the view in front of me, and my world lost in the waves of color. I meditated, my mind blank from wonder. Years later, I can share the story, the view, but it is something that is truly just mine.

The other comes from one day.

My husband and I were on the other side of the world in England. We went to Stonehenge during a December sunrise, and we took the tour where we could actually go up to the stones. We walked through the frost covered grass, our footsteps signs that we were there. Once within the stones, a sense of warmth came over us unlike outside the mysterious circle.

Later in the day, we watched the sunset go down from the top of the Glastonbury Tor. People were everywhere, enjoying the day, and it felt like it was just us up there. I wanted to stay, but we had a long drive back to London. From sunrise to sunset, it was a magical day with my soulmate.

I find it strange that are both memories are completely different as night and day, but they each have something to do with the wonder of nature and the potential of the human spirit.


Tuesday, January 10, 2012

The Bite of Poetry

I used to write poetry. I had a notebook that I kept next to my bed and some days I would carry it with me. I would find a spot outside, or a corner somewhere, and I would write something that I never expected. If I couldn't think of something, I would doodle until it formed better in my mind. I started doing this my freshman year of high school. A friend gave me a Coca Cola notebook as a good-bye present when she moved, and I didn't know exactly what to put into it. The words she wrote in the inside cover encouraged me to write and that notebook became the first of my poetry notebooks. 

Most of the poems usually come out sad, but I like them. Well, most of them. Today I was thinking about how it has been a long time since I wrote a poem. My latest notebook sits on my bookshelf next to my desk, but I haven't pulled it out for a while. Maybe it is time that I  carry it with me again to see what happens.

Here is a poem I found on my old online journal that I thought I would share. 

Swimming down, down, down
into the dark
the push of my legs
strong and able.

Swimming down, down, down
all the weight of the world
lifting off my shoulders
stroking the water gently.

Swimming down, down, down
I stop to turn around
to see the light pouring,
shimmering with memories.

unsure of where to go
pressure heavy on my chest
pushing down, down, down.

(I drown)

This poem comes from the feelings I experienced two years ago. When I closed my eyes, I kept imagining myself under water. It took me a long time to come up for air. I now imagine myself running.


Tuesday, January 3, 2012

A Decade of Adventure

Ten years ago yesterday, I had fallen officially in love with one of my best friends. We hadn't even gone on our first date, but we knew. We are each other's first love--- first everything. We might have been young (I was 19 and he was 17), but we both had this clear vision of love and it has never wavered.

Once a girl finds her prince, the story mostly ends and that is that. However, that is when the real adventure began for us. We have traveled all over the world where we touched Stonehenge, climbed the Tor, looked Kermit the Frog in the eye, walked through Hogwarts, and meditated in Buddhist temples.We attended many conventions where we have met incredible people and were able to see some of our favorites (from Hayao Miyazaki, David Tennant, George Lucas, Joss Whedon). Those are the things we strive to do (among other things), but we also created a home together. We cared for our diabetic cat together for four years and adopted two kittens that needed a good home. We decided to go vegetarian and we haven't spent one night apart since we married six years ago. 

There is a lot to say about ten years that I can't fit all in a blog post. I know that I have my other half to complete me, to challenge me, to accept me, and love me. He has taught me to do the same for myself. I couldn't ask for someone sweeter, passionate, heart-warming, or funnier than him. I couldn't have dreamed of a better soulmate, but most of all, of this life that I have with him.

Here's to the decade of adventure (and six years of wedded bliss) and many more years to come. I love you always and forever. 


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