Go Ahead, Push In

Chris Brogan is a master blogger and prolific twitter user with a huge following. One of the big boys in social media. I found one of his tweets fascinating on twitter the other day, it said: 

Excited to be at #smcdallas tonight. Make sure you say hi. Don't say, "but you were swamped." Just push in. :)

It never changes - we have more influence than some and less influence than others. It is uncomfortable thinking we might be a 'pest' to those we admire. 


Push in. 


They might be spending loads of time alone. Their phone might not be ringing. They might not get any presents, cards in the mail or invitations. Their activity / full life could be initiated mostly by them. We think hoards are clawing at them and they wouldn't want to talk to us. This might be true ~ maybe it isn't true.  


Push in. 


Some of the most interesting relationships I have are a result of wriggling into 'the circle' of people who drop hands to let me in - graciously including me. It is extremely hard to do and vulnerable, but the alternative robs both of you. 


Push in. 


I love being pursued. My husband finds it quite delicious when I want him ~ which I do, often. The Lover of our souls....He likes it too. A lot.


Push in. 


Have you ever pushed in or wished someone else would have? 


Push in. 

Sweethearts

When was the last time you laid 

on the ground, on your back 

watching clouds?

 Dazzling blue sky, sunshine 

and a cloud parade 

will cure whatever ails you. 

Good Rx. 

I captured a few  

heart shaped clouds 

 overhead today. 

Someone was playing

with me.

He captured my heart. 

Again. 

Thanks Milton

Reading a post today with a reference from Milton brought back some bad memories ~ "they who have put out the people's eyes, reproach them of their blindness."  


This has happened to me, maybe to you. I could never understand the dynamics until I read this!


Someone verbally, emotionally or physically abuses you-then they ridicule you for the instinctive shut down response that happens. "Looks like you're shriveling up".


Often, the abuser becomes the victim, turning the tables with, "you/they hate me". Instead of taking responsibility with, "I hurt you/them".  


Leave. Run. Guard your heart better. Do.
I did. I do. I will. 

Sentinel Trees

Sentinel trees 
proudly

guard my river 
like stags 

their
leafless branches 

 trophy antlers

covered 
in velvet moss

outlined 
backlit

by a stroke
of sunshine's 

gold

The Love Stomp

Many of the things on my bucket list are checked off. Not completely, but many. Some things, like stomping grapes in Italy with my skirt hitched up, barefoot with other women of all ages, laughing  and  dancing with abandon; probably won't happen. Only in movies...progress, you know.

Last winter we visited the folks in North Dakota. My mother in law was in the later stages of Alzheimer's, still being cared for at home by Gordy. His hands were full with those legendary 36 hour days.

He was quite adept and efficient in caregiving, chores, housekeeping and cooking. Quite a thing for a farmer who had spent most his life outdoors. Noble man. Tired man.

Craig and Gordon took off for some manly time together, letting me enjoy sitting with Myrtle. She napped most the time, causing me to look around for something, anything to do. Something constructive.

I decided upon changing the sheets and washing their bedspread. I forgot they had a mini sized washer and dryer. The sheets fit one at a time, but the bedspread would have broken the thing and not come clean.

They live out in the country in a tiny prairie town. The closest laundry mat is at least 22 miles away. Determined to think creatively, like a pioneer woman, I put it in the bath tub with soap and hot water. Mistakenly, I thought I could swish it around like the women down at the river do... in movies?

Wet, it weighed a ton. Wouldn't budge. My back almost went out trying to swish it. Any desperate woman would do the same; I hitched my skirt up around my hips and climbed in. I stomped that thing silly. Stomped it clean. Sudsy laughter with tears came when mom curiously stepped around the corner to have a look at the commotion.

For once, the confused, uncomprehending look on her face wasn't there. Stomping grapes for the Italian wine harvest did not surprise her at all. Her smile was priceless, like we were having fun, doing my dream together.

It has been crossed off...the love stomp. This is as good as it will ever need to be.

This is dedicated to Russell also known as @LuvStomp on twitter. His username actually tweeked my memory for this post and gave it a title. Thanks brother for letting me use it.

Hanging a Shingle Out Front

Entheos (greek) means having the god within, or full of the god within.

The word enthusiasm comes from it.

Found this crumpled in a dark cobwebby corner of my heart.

It's dusted off - patched up.

I'm hanging a like-new shingle out front, above the door.

Welcoming enthusiasm. Welcoming all those who have it.

 Come in...it is so good to see you.

I missed you.

Diffusing Colors

The sun peeked out for the morning,

enticing me to the river Saturday.

Bundled up, sitting with the quiet,

I noticed the sun embracing a sundog by his side.

She snuggled under his arm dressed

 in colors of violet, orange, blue and pink.

Almost, I heard her humming contentedly.

The grass, sprinkled with clinging iridescent teardrops,

 mirrored the same colors.

Color; is it bestowed?

Gladly I borrow the gift lent,

 letting it infuse me, satiate me.

Later, I will translate it, diffusing it again.

Lending it to another.

First receiving, then bestowing in turn.

 Receiving is always first.

The fullness then escapes over the rim.

It must.

How Can We Live in Normal?

I need to do some grocery shopping, we are out of almost everything. But strangely, I keep putting it off. Buying dog food and anything else we need seems so trivial and shallow in contrast to Haiti's need.

Craig needs a new pair of shoes, his EEEEE's are expensive. We are taking the girls to brunch today, celebrating....these simple things are tinged with embarrassment, chagrin.

How can we live here in Normal when the loud sound of lamentation is being carried on the wind?

This is another way to help. I will lift up the hands and strengthen the feeble knees of the ones who are laboring to bring aid and succor, by uttering groanings of my own, on their behalf. There is Someone who hears and catches the tears of the hurting ones, the grieving ones and the ones bringing help, comfort and love to them. Join me? 

Untangling Words

Rainbow words 
shimmer in clusters

squirming

 loose 
from the clasp of
 a bubble wand

frame
by

a breath

of whispered hope

blowing

to untangle

wet wings of words

rising

flying free

The first time something happens, take notice. A hot tub bath for me is a sacred sanctuary. When the girls were small, the door was locked and Craig ran interference so it was uninterrupted and peaceful. The sweet restoration it provided benefited all of us. Smart man.

Let it be said, it is a rare occurrence for me to fragment this ritual by tearing myself away from bliss. This, yes, I will bravely call it a poem, made me leave drips all over the floor, while searching frantically for a scrap of paper and a pen.

All my life, I've thought in pictures, metaphors. I see metaphors everywhere. This new poem thing is like meeting my absent identical twin after 50 years. Am I ever glad to see you sister.....

I left a comment on a posted poem today about how I'm starting to see poems, however slender they appear, as quite heavy, weighty. Muscle weighs more than fat.

Bono says "freedom has a scent like a new born babies head".  I feel sweetly free and fragrant, flying, a born again again, newborn.

Warrior Women

strength unlike man 

the weaker sex
means
less hardened

instead of weak

promise to stay tender

calluses remove

bruised strength mended
to birth 
tenderness
compassion 
affection 
generosity 

joy 

memories
ideas 
to spark and kindle 
like flint for fire 
while

tears grow gardens
growing hearts

small offering 
added to yours

to hers
a noticeable heap
framed to
distribute hope
making a difference
without
knowing the end


getting up 
trying again
brushing off 
to give again
love received 
to pass on
love 
it matters most


This is my tribute to new twitter friends who have introduced me to poetry in a fresh new way. Reading theirs has been so fun and inspiring. I have never even tried to write poetry before, even though I experience and notice nature as such. This is my first attempt. Terrifying, as I don't know the rules. Or how. Or protocol. 


They have encouraged me, and shared resources I never would have found and let me join them opening the door to twitter Narnia. Thanks to Nancy, Maureen, Laura, Glynn and Bonnie. Especially Glynn, who called my last post a poem? Startling me, naming me, giving me courage to try. Helping me 'caress the rainbow'...
@poemsandprayers
@Doallas
@llbarkat
@gyoung9751
@TheBonnieGray