where

I find myself at times thinking back to friends in my past who never visited their twenties; those who remain in the throes of youth, and gone beyond the reaches of life in the here and the now. So many ways that they left, under so many different circumstances. I wonder at what they must know; how they must laugh at our foibles and how they must long to join in at times, to feel the grass, the sun, the disappointment that comes from day to day life.

I still feel the loss: even after all this time I feel the burden of hesitation in making new friends and the bitter irony of feeling the need to say things I feel just in case I don't get the chance to say them again. I fear shadows that exist nowhere else but in my mind, faces through decades that linger faintly, lost to us in myriad of ways. I hope that they have found peace; I wonder if they believe that it would be better to be living. I wonder if they even give us a second thought.

They have been relieved of an uncertain future, removed from mistakes and pain and failure and self doubt and indecision and emptiness. I don't know if they still feel longing, but I hope there is still that in the afterlife. I hope I never lose the sensation of longing in my life; I hope that, living or dead, that there is always, always, always the yearning to reach out to the sun and feel its warmth on our faces and the earth beneath our feet. I hope that the the lust for life is a longing never fulfilled, but always evolving. I hope that, through their memory, those that have passed can teach us a thing about accepting life on its terms and learning to live- to really feel the yearning for living and feeling. To feel the joy that is ours, in all its capacity.

I miss them, and hope that they share a good laugh, or maybe a smile at my expense at times. I hope that maybe, in each of us, they remember what it was to once be alive.

Change

I am at a crossroads in my life right now, and so many possibilities lie ahead of me. Omens, fate, guidance, voices; I don't know what to call them, but they are there nonetheless. I see them and feel their pull upon me.
The blinders of a false sense of duty and obligation have been lifted and there is clarity behind my eyes and purpose in my steps now that will carry me into a path I have no earthly ability to know right now, save for the simple fact that it IS there, that it IS where i need to be, and that it IS alright that I approach openly; not without fear, but with a sense of curiosity and openness and let these omens, fates, guides, and/or voices lead me. I know they have no reason to deceive me, nothing to gain by trickery. They merely ARE, and my perception and reaction to them is what will write the upcoming chapters of my life. Blank sheet, sharpened pencil.......

Here we go.........

Thanks

Motherhood is a life of contradiction; self sacrifice and redemption. Endless, at times painful, love for your child, and a knowing that at times, you will be spurned. Investing your entire soul into a being you know will one day leave you. Trying not to lose yourself, while denying yourself at the same time.
Motherhood teaches lessons to our progeny that will take them years to understand; lessons in grace, respect, truth, dignity and love. The act of being a mother is often taken lightly; the act of mothering, never. To be a mother means a level of selflessness that earns commendations and medals in a man's world, and upturned noses in social circles when you tell people what your occupation is. Mothering is the art of separating yourself from that which you are most deeply connected to and the seemingly impossible task of pinning all your hopes while none of your dreams on your child.
To be a mom requires patience, determination, strength of character, wit, and a lot of tissues. It requires all of you, all the time.
It requires better treatment, better understanding than it gets.
To our moms, living or gone, all we can say is "Thank You", and give you this day, because there is no word in our lexicon that could ever convey the debt of gratitude that we owe you. You ARE heroes; the ones we will carry in our hearts forever-be you our own or the mothers of the shared joys that are our children.
Thank you, for everything.

choice

The most difficult internal struggle to face is to stand up and be counted
even when you know what's coming....