I am the woman…

I am the woman…

You cannot stop me

For,

I am the woman who pushes

The wind

And controls the storm.

You cannot break me

See,

I am the woman whose roots

Are buried

Deep below your feet.

You cannot dim me

For,

I am the woman whose light

Is that

Of a million suns and more.

You cannot blind me

See,

I am the woman who sees

Every ripple

In every rippling sea.

You cannot force me

For,

I am the woman who heightens

The surf

And crashes on shore.

You cannot cage me

See,

I am the woman who speaks

To birds

While the world is asleep.

You cannot hush me

For,

I am the woman who rolls

The thunder

And makes it roar.

You cannot resist me

See,

I am the woman who stirs

The air

And the moments you breathe.

You cannot forget me

For,

I am the woman who paints

The sky

And creates my world.

I will not shut up, I will not put on a bra…

I will not shut up, I will not put on a bra…

Recently I was told to settle down. To cool it. To start behaving more like a parent and an adult. To move and shift my natural ways of being, in order to make everyone comfortable. In order to be on the same line as everyone else in this adult-world. In order to display the look of living like society wants a young adult with children to live like. To wear more clothes and be more conservative, now that I’m a certain age. To turn down the music. To limit my desires of having a good time, because that’s not allowed anymore. To tame my hair, my bare feet, my ripped-up shorts and my itinerary to match where I should be, according to everyone else’s imagination. Quite silly, since I’m missy… and the only one that is she.

 
And here I am, standing tall in all that I am, shining as bright as I wish, and being told to cut it out.

 
Why? Why are we told at our certain age to stop dreaming? Why are we told to shut off our imaginations? Our child-like wonder? Our enthusiasm? Why are we all expected to carry ourselves a certain way, just because that’s what other people are doing? Why are we told to live “like this”, because it worked for someone else?

 
I am not someone else. I am me. I am not going to surrender to what other people expect to see from a thirty-year old me. I am not going to stop doing the things that make my soul sing and set my heart on fire. I am not going to stop being me. I am not going to stop celebrating the little girl inside of me who deserves to be celebrated. I like when she runs the show. I am not going to stop immersing myself in the awe that is life, in the way that I choose. I am not going to stop exploring and seeking adventure that I’m told I should be done with by now, because of my damn age and life circumstance.

 
I am not going to settle into slowing down for the sake of someone else feeling comfortable about my pace. I am not going to slow down just because I get hurt. I will get hurt, and like that little girl learning to ride her bike, I will get up again, strap my legs around that bike and ride harder than I did before. I am going to do this, forever and always, because dammit-I’m ALIVE! And it feels so good.

 
And regardless of my age, or the amount of children that I choose to parent, I will continue to live and to thrive the only way I know how- by being me, Missy, Missy, Missy. I will set the example for these boys, for myself, and for anyone else who dares to watch – that life is fun, it is supposed to be fun, and the name of the game is to enjoy the thrill of the ride. That’s it.

 
And that’s just what I’ll do. That’s what I’ve been doing. And that’s what I’m going to continue to do. I sleep when I’m tired, I dream when I’m inspired, and I dance when I like the beat. I will not settle down. I will not slow down. I will not cool it. I will not shut up. I will not put on a bra. I will not become the vision of what a thirty-year old woman raising children should look like. THIS is what it looks like, when it’s the vision of me. And it’s damn good.

 
We all seem to be thriving in this way. Dancing when we want. Spinning in circles. Creating lives for ourselves that are molded and shaped by the imagination and happiness of the child within. That’s what I’m doing here, with myself and these little humans and anyone else that crosses my untamed path – teaching how to thrive in the celebration of all that is you. That’s the whole damn point.

The light that is you…

The light that is you…

Everything that you say and everything that you do is a fundamental piece of the entire composition. Every word that you speak drips from your lips like gold dripping down from the heavens. Every thought that you make in your mind has been but a beautiful riddle only you have always had the answer to. Every move that you make is like fluid – water – and yet you are the wind – never-ending nor beginning , but constantly evolving. Continue reading “The light that is you…”

a stone-paved road…

a stone-paved road…

I want to see the cracks in the stones that have been there for hundreds of years.

I want to see their depth and dried up tears.

I want to be the one to notice the flower poking out from the long-time broken slabs.

I want to walk across the cracks and slabs

and feel the presence of my grace.

I want to leave a trail of little pieces of me.

I want to leave a trace.

-Not to be found

-Not to be crowned

But to show another way.

A way that blazes through the broken bits,

that were never really broken,

without hesitation

down a stone-paved road that leads to your destination.

Taken by night…

Taken by night…

I wish to be taken by the night

to let her show me what I like

let her spin her web

through the gaps between my breath

and listen to her whisper

as I get warmer

lingering deeper into her depths

and let her take my hand

and spin me til I’m spun

plucking the words from my head

one by one

and watching as I come undone.

I wish to be taken by the night

to let her sweep me into the rapture of intrigue and delight

let her take the lead

and dip me in the dance

and listen to her whisper

as I get closer

falling deeper into her trance

and let her guide my eyes

and show me what I like

stripping the limits I’d once seen

sight by sight

and watching as I turn to light.

I wish to be taken by the night

to let her show me what I’m like

let her take me for a ride

through the depths of dark and light

and listen to her whisper

as I get nearer

riding into where twilight resides

and let her shine my light

and teach me hours versus moments

Enticing all of my wishes

bit by bit

and watching as I become all of it.

Must be the reason of the witch…

Must be the reason of the witch…

We will walk with the many or the few, on the roads that were given no names.

To dead-end streets. And cul-de-sacs. And loop-de-loos.

Off of highways and off of beaten tracks and down every dirty path, we will ride the yellow lines as we please.

Be it swerving from lane to lane, or running barefoot in the middle and in the way, or bumming a ride in and off to the side.

We will ride, we will walk, we will dance but not hide.

We will call out your name just as you drive by, and when you look back we’ll be sure to disperse with the dark of the night.

To places unknown, perhaps roads unseen.

We will follow the signs of such named roads, only to tear the last bit of them down, and rip the posts from out of the ground.

We will ensure to never follow or get swept by those forged signs no more.

We will walk across pavement and soften or shake it, we’ll crack it and break it and then we’ll remake it.

We will make our own signs and place them where we please, or maybe we’ll toss them to the hands that wave with the breeze, or we’ll send them in bottles out to the seas.

We will ride as fast as we want, or even just as slow.

Speed has never been an issue, because we are the pace and this is our show.

We will hold out our thumbs, but that could all be a trick.

Upon unknown roads with names that only we would be told, we will float and we will linger and we will never show you a way that you could ever call quicker.

Be it up-hill or down, or straight across or all around, in circles and through round-abouts, we’ll show you the way.

We will walk with the many or the few, or we will walk alone or we will walk with you.

You decide, you follow the signs.

But only if you’ve ripped them up from out the ground, and are following the rhythm of your very own sound.

The one that beats inside of your heart, found on the road or out of the lines or inside the lanes or resting between the window’s panes.

We will run across pavement with all of our toes.

Over painted tracks and little stones, on all of the roads that have ever or have never been known.

Upon all of the roads that were given not but a name, we will walk along them, and they’ll never remain just quite the same.

 

as mesmerizing as the stars…

as mesmerizing as the stars…

When do you find who you truly are?

Is it when you look up and gaze upon the stars?

Or is it when you see the fire of the sun setting and burning before your eyes?

Is it when you’re crying in the silence of all of the answers that hide in plain sight?

Or is it when you’re belly full of laughter and a cocktail of love and friends and bliss?

Is it when you find yourself feeling cold and left alone under the darkness of the night?

Or is it when you find the light and the switch that controls if the light is dim or bright?

Is it when you feel completely pulled and pushed to your limits?

Or is it when you discover that you have no limits, you’ve never had limits, and limits are no such thing?

Is it when you’re in the depths of despair and dancing with a broken heart?

Or is it when you’re riding high on the wings of your dreams in a sky you’ve never before seen?

Is it when you’ve been knocked down and you’re not sure how to get back up?

Or is it when you get back up and see that your legs shake less and carry you much stronger than before?

Is it when you see your reflection in the ripples of the calm sea?

Or is it when you float upon the sea and get swept away and see 13 shooting stars?

When do you find who you truly are?

Is it when you see a glimpse of yourself in the shooting stars?

Or is it when you see that you yourself are as mesmerizing as they are?

When do you find who you truly are?

Perhaps it is when you find that you are far, far beyond what you would ever think you are.

 

a wild woman on Wednesday morning…

a wild woman on Wednesday morning…

And so I ran and I ran and I ran. I ran through the dewy grass of the yard and into the back of the wood. I ran and I ran and I ran. Like a wild woman would. Like I would.

I threw the papers down to the ground from the grip of my left hand. I threw down the jar of my last sips of bitter black coffee from the grip of my right hand. I threw it away and I ran. I ran and I ran and I ran.

Continue reading “a wild woman on Wednesday morning…”

The ever-evolving summit…

The ever-evolving summit…

Reflect, for a moment, if you will, on your ever-evolving summit… For, you have climbed this climb several times…
You are climbing to the top of the mountain and you know you’re almost there. You can taste the sweet satisfaction in the air, you can feel the sinking of your feet syncing with each path they meet. That feeling is everything. And you want to revel in that feeling and live in that feeling and dance with that feeling.

Now you have found your rhythm. Now you’re making love to the exploration of this wild climb, making love to the exploration of yourself. It is then, that the dew drops of elation stream through you like the rivers run wild and free. You feel like you’re right where you’re meant to be. You’re moving forward, you can see the top.
And then, perhaps from out of nowhere, a gust of wind comes and knocks you down to the ground, or swiftly sweeps you off of your feet, depending upon perception, that is. And you find yourself back from whence you came, which is merely upon speculation, you see, you cannot go back to the start in this game. Continue reading “The ever-evolving summit…”

Sip from my cup of tea…

Sip from my cup of tea…

I reached for the cup of tea that she’d placed down beside me. Already I was in a trance brought on by the consumption of love that swallowed me whole. The blues of my eyes drifted and melted into the blues of the Sea. The golden glitter dancing on the waters ripples reminded me that it could’ve been day or night – depending on how I was to look at things.

For, I knew it was all in my eyes.

I pressed my lips gently onto the tea cup and sipped my first sip. It was a cocktail of sorts. Sprinkled with stardust sweeter than anything I’d ever dreamed of tasting. A concoction of cosmic dew and honey that dripped down from the Heavens.  Continue reading “Sip from my cup of tea…”