I hope your weekend flowered you with awakenings that extend outside the lens of middle-age, and all nonconstructive illusions exerted by your inner critic were shunned by the power of your higher self. Let the sightings begin!
Sunlight sneaks behind an open thought, and travels through the vein of time: it nicks the rope that ties the bound, buries the crosses nailed to our pain, and articulates the truth of journeys scathed not by miry waters but freely flowing through the depths of sight. Life conceiving thought through an immaculate mirror channels a blemished fairy-tale awakened by the perception aspired by epochal evolution. Thought conceiving life through a reflection aspired by that epochal evolution perceives beyond the latitude of consciousness, and unconsciously plants a blooming garden that milks the rays of open thoughts.
When lens open, the spectrum awakens beyond the perception of oneself and esteem seeks the leverage that anchors one's self to grounds solid as the force from which one has evolved. Karma riddles illusions spun by hands of time and conceives a path fraught with quicksand or a copious future ventured with wisdom, belief and vision beyond the phantom of our ills.The CHOICE of our Karmic path is ruled but by the interiors of own mind.
My perception has been altered repeatedly by the worth my esteem claims and as I write I realize the ills of my current vision. I ALLOWED myself to evolve into a middle-aged woman with German thighs that look like those of a sumo wrestler, muddled gray hair looking for tenants of birds, and a psyche that is molding itself into my GRANDmother's face: the same lines formed by cautious half smiles, the same loss of fat above our innocent eyes, and the same crimped chin holding back what we really feel. It was my choice, my esteem ALLOWED the metaphorical transition ... or shall I blame it on menopause or the results-thereof: a failed marriage, economical loss, housing bankruptcy, a transformation unrecognizable to the reflection in the mirror ... yada,yada...UGH! Nonetheless whatever or whomever, my spirit clings to the still of critical thoughts that surrender to my inner critics while hope crumbles behind the mask its conviction dons ...
my spirit rides the whips of a coaster with faulty brakes as I cling and fight for every minute …
watching the thief !
My inner critic keeps telling me I AM NOT GOOD ENOUGH to be anything other than. My insecurities are driving all of my relatives, friends, ME, neighbors, anybody and everybody who will listen to me, nuts in the middle of my personal dilemma: I talk, whine, whimper, write, talk, whine, whimper, write, analyze, reanalyze, etc… Ugh, in short, I have become a royal pain in the _ _ _ and then I wonder why ever anyone dare not cross the moat leading to my drowning castle.
My thought shifts beyond the spectrum of my current lens, crashing against the jagged edges of yesterday, and time becomes the hologram that liberates the vibration of another's cry. Humbly, I bow my head in recollection of one who could have but did not WHINE, BITCH or MOAN!
4' 5" plump Laura with childlike gestures and feelings banged her tiny fist repeatedly on my MatchMaker desk; her arms wrapped around her secreted face sobbing with hazel eyes swollen and red. She had just been rejected for the umpteenth million time by a 5' 1" gentleman that I could have sworn would have been the perfect match. A 5' 1" gentleman who dumped her coldly by a single glance in the middle of a mall, ruthlessly proclaiming there must have been a drastic mistake.
“Nobody will ever love me.” Her desperate longing and hopeless look torched the root of my very soul ... melting the heart holding hers.
I reached across the table, put her hand in mine, and soothed it with a gentle stroke of my thumb. Her hand was so soft, and delicate like the being screaming out for somebody ... anybody ... to SEE and LOVE the beautiful butterfly that hid inside this guarded cocoon.There were no words from even a professional Match Maker that could comfort the cruel pain of the eyes of judgment.
I get that we live in a visual society, and our judgements/opinions are governed by the sovereignty of the media, but because of the deficiency of awareness or the desire to seek the truth outside of a theatrical washing machine , we are prisoners and victims of our own vision ... our own society. I understand likes attract likes as I have been GUILTY myself of judging before one opens ones mouth and ASSUMING their IQ matches their attire, and their heart seeks not the same as mine. We liberally endure by our own interpretation of the decrees set forth, and ASSUME one who shies short of perfection must not have self-respect or confidence. Are we turning into a society of invisible beings who hunger for a glance of acceptance? Are we WAITING for someone to love us so that we can love ourselves, or are human beings a tribe that NEED nurturing? Does our survival depend on an awakening sanctioned into the communion of enlightenment for a species carefully woven as ONE?
Esteem makes it tricky to banish the inexhaustible ghouls of riddled pasts; confidence slays with hopes and dreams the obstacles that emerge from under the blanket of tender wounds while time confronts the realism of the ghosts controlling vast intelligible secrets. Wings of godliness break out of its cocoon, and gives itself permission to evolve into a beautiful butterfly that appreciates metamorphose without fearing the unlimited boundaries of the sky. Tired of the pain, rejection, and heartache, Laura swore not to give up, and go one-step further towards the love for which she so longed.
6' 2" lean and tall Tom was in the same age group as Laura. Everything in their profile fit but the height. I had one reason to trust that Laura's size and shape would not alter his vision – he had a mentally handicapped sister. As a lad he had to learn to deal with the ruthless stares his sister received. It was painful watching the shunning of his own sister, empathizing with the heartache he shared. Now as a grown man, he considered stares and sneers shallow and heartless. He was wise enough to SEE beyond the shell that shelters glowing spirits.
He agreed to meet Laura, "Why not, she sounds nice, what's the problem?"
He agreed to meet Laura, "Why not, she sounds nice, what's the problem?"
He did not dump her at the mall, nor did he embarrass her with ruthless declarations, but he did have an intelligent conversation with another human being and SEE the spirit that stood beside him. Twenty-five years and two children ago they left their first date hand in hand, sailing towards the open seas that led to their marriage. Whenever I see either in public, they share their album that perhaps would never have been if one giant man did not huge heart in a tiny delicate package, and open the door to that which lied beyond the realm of sight.
♥♥⁀‵⁀) ✫ ✫ ✫NISHLI-NIL`⋎´✫¸.•°*”˜˜”*° ✫¸.•°*”˜˜”*°•.✫ ✫ NISHLI-NIL .•°*”˜˜”*°•.✫ ✫ ✫
Somebody is always crying - a deep silent cry, under a bed, in a closet, in an office, or on a desk, etc…: a single tear of hope or despair rolls down a cheek, sadness takes over that sometimes leads to minutes, hours, or possibly days of continual weeping. Can you hear the cry or have your senses become numb to that which is silent only in sound?
We are all inexperienced travelers in this great voyage of life ....
every single one of us. The direction of our ship is determined not by the needle of a compass but by the destination we visualize at the end. If we close our sails and screen the winds, we float through shallow waters leading to empty shores. However then, can we open the seas to the flood of enlightenment yet comprehended by the simplicity of our own voyage?
every single one of us. The direction of our ship is determined not by the needle of a compass but by the destination we visualize at the end. If we close our sails and screen the winds, we float through shallow waters leading to empty shores. However then, can we open the seas to the flood of enlightenment yet comprehended by the simplicity of our own voyage?
Connect wherever the winds of your voyage guide you. For it is a tragedy not to open the sails of an idle ship. What you shall miss is the vast discovery of oneself and the lessons and mysticism of others sailed forth. To connect with another, one on one as one incalculable spirit to another makes our voyage a success in the truest sense of reality.
I am a 5'4" mother whose esteem can claim two children , and three grandchildren. ( Hi Melinda, Shawn, Bridget, Olivia and Claire . I love you more than the sky and sea ...forever and ever!) My perception is sometimes altered by the fright/ills of my current menopausal position , BUT I know when I connect with you my head lowers because of the honor you bestow upon me ... I take three breaths ... exhale ... throw my head back and SMILE. Thank You for being YOU ... YOU MAKE A DIFFERENCE in this middle age wanderer's life and grounded I stand ... PROUDLY! 
