Tuesday, February 09, 2010

The Kiss, The Tease, The Dance

The Kiss

She kissed me,
white heat and velvet,
pulling back just enough to feel the energy between us and the quiver in my lips.

I thought I would die before she returned her mouth to mine,
this time with more force,
tasting the wine on her lips and the whiskey on mine.

My hand in her hair,
her breath spilling across my face
Living an entire lifetime in one single kiss.


The Tease

She grabbed my shoulders, pushing me away,
I resisted, trying to return,
her grip on my shoulders increased, fingers pressed hard into me.
The sensation made me focus, made me look at her
She was heady knowing the control was hers,
I watched as just a hint of pleasure played across her face.
She tightened her grip again, my breathing became guttural, my knees betrayed me,
From below I looked up at her, she loosened her grip just enough to reassure, knelt to meet me and allowed me closer again.

The Dance

Tumbling, tangled, entwind,
their bodies fall softly into unmarked sand.
Finding herself in their rhythm,
rhythm that had always been inside her.
Rhythm that kept time with their impatient breathing
and their breaking hearts.


Monday, February 01, 2010

Have a Wonderful Day and Expect Miracles...

Thursday, January 28, 2010

The Map of Your World...

If you drew a map of your world, representative your your experiences, your reality, of your personal, self reflective, introspective moments, your wildest fantasies, your desires, your hopes, your "ah HA!" moments what shape would it be?



Think about it. Start with what many of us learned. The map of our state we lived in. Then we learned different designs/borders as we expanded to the United States (those of us who live here anyway, insert what ever country you live in as the same example).

If you were to be a map maker and were traveling over your own life. Where are the borders? Where are the important places inside those borders? What is beyond those borders? What does that look like to you? Think about it.



I am going to draw my map including climate and topography. Then, I will start putting push pins into the places that "big reveals" have/will happened. Its important to me to keep track of clarity. It comes so very infrequently and usually knocks me on my ass.

One happened today. I want a place to put my push pin.

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Tuesday, January 26, 2010

One Cool Remove

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

70.88.207.100

REMINDER:


Measured Progress is proactive in cyber stalking.

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Monday, January 18, 2010

8 to 48

When I was eight years old, I was baptized by submersion. I was told that everything from then on, if not perfect, would set me further away from God. In Sunday meetings, I was told bible stories of great and powerfully spiritual men, their dutiful, long suffering wives and wrath that awaited those who fell.

I was introduced to the Doctrine and Covenants, the Book of Mormon and The Pearl of Great Price. I was taught that I would never rise to the spiritual level of the men in those books. I was taught that I would never rise to the spiritual level of men here on earth. That God would talk to the men and the men then would tell me. I would never hear God's voice myself for I am a woman.

My teacher made a gallow out of a wire hanger during one of her classes. She talked about the tortures we will face. That there would come a time that I would be asked "Do you believe...." and if I said yes, I would be put to death. She then put a paper doll on the hook and lit it on fire. We all sat stunned watching the paper curl up and turn black. She then said that if we denied God our lives would be spared only to live in fiery torment forever in hell and she lit another paper doll a blaze. Then she asked each one of us which paper doll we were. I will never forget that picture in my head. Frankly, at eight, neither one of those options seemed better than the other.

I was eight. I went into that water dutifully in a line of a bunch of other scared eight year olds and then systematically dunked. When I came up from the water, my gown was heavy from the water but it felt to me that it was something else. I was weighed down by the knowledge that once I left that water, I was sin free. Scary for an eight year old. Eight year olds screw up. I began falling from grace immediately. Each transgression brought more weight. Each admonishment wrapped my wrists tighter. I was being molded and my will broken.

My life took some drastic turns at a very young age. By eleven, my shot at heaven was gone. Whispers of rumors turned to voices, the pointing of fingers and with admonishments from grown men in white shirts and black ties, so began my own personal Salem Witch trial. I was told I no longer deserved or was worthy of taking sacrament.

Since then, I have struggled my way through knowing the dark specter of Hell was always watching and waiting. I fell away quickly from the church. I grew callous and apathetic. When at 44, I realized I was not only undeserving of God's sacrament but gay, I knew there was no redemption. But the long term apathy served me well. It held my terror at bay and soon I was content to sit back watching the L Word, waiting for hell. It finally just didn't matter to me where I was going.

By happenstance, I ended up in the pews at the Boise UCC last year. I didn't really care to be there, I went to support my partner who was on a journey to find faith and connection. There I met a woman who change my life. Taught me the real stories of the bible. Introduced me to the people who were not heros and spiritually superior icons but regular, imperfect people. People no different than any of the people sitting in the room with me. People who were no different than me.

Yes, David danced naked unto the lord in celebration. He had been blessed by his obedience and God was well pleased with him. Then he fell. I was never taught David fell from grace. He put a hit out on a woman's husband, his friend and comrade, because he was consumed with passion while he witnessed the woman bathing naked, one night from the roof of his palace. He knew he had the power to do anything. He wanted her, so he forgot about the reason he was who he was and off'd the dude by sending him to the front lines. Then of course, magnanimously married the grieving widow. His fall from grace astonished me. What came next dumbfounded me. When he realized what he had done, he humbly asked for forgiveness. God gave it to him as easily as one would offer a cup of water to thirsty child.

Forgiveness from a fall. Where I came from, a fall from grace was fatal. Until a woman broke all my assumptions and brought these fallen children of the bible down to the sacrement table from the pedestal I thought they belonged on and invited me to stand next to them. Thank you Pastor Kim.

Today, at (almost) 48, I am being baptized... again. I want the weight of the shame and guilt lifted from me. Weight I should have never been given at eight. I want to be delivered from the rope that has bound my wrists since I was eight. I understand now, my faith lightens me, my faith releases me. I am God's child. Imperfectly perfect and loved exactly as I am. At eight and forty eight





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Sunday, January 17, 2010

A Prayer For Redemption...

Dear Lord,

Please forgive me for not turning off my cell phone today in church.

I know I don't actually HAVE cell phone usage but all my numbers are in there. Anyway, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about...well, maybe later because I really need a cell phone but anyway... I was so horrified when my alarm went off playing, The Sugar Plum Fairy...

I am sorry for not finding it fast enough to keep the entire church from hearing it (and for saying FUCK! out loud when I was searching for it) and I am sorry for finding irony of that particular song being so apropos while sitting surrounded by my gay friends and having to excuse myself because of the inappropriate nature of my inability to stop laughing hysterically during scripture reading... but Lord, it could have been worse...

I have Achmed the Terrorist as an alternate ring tone... "Silence! I KILL you!"



amen

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Saturday, January 09, 2010

endless blue

The Tao of Bowling



I committed to joining a bowling league because I knew that if I didn't have something to make me get out of the house, I just wouldn't.  It is good for my Fibro, exercise is the last thing my body wants but it is good for me, it manages my pain, it makes me talk to people and reminds me that the world is bigger than me. (something that has been a personal goal of mine)

Tao is a concept which found in Taoism, Confusionism and generalized in much Ancient Chinese Philosophy.  While the character itself translates as "way" "path" or "route" it is often used philosophically to signify the fundamental or true nature of the world.



So what the heck does this have to do with bowling?    Bowling has become therapy for me.  As I have become more in tune with my mind/body connection.    I have always had control issues.  And during the last 6 months of my life I have certainly not felt as if I have had any control over anything.   Realistically,  none of us are in control of anything, but we like to think we are.  Bowling is no exception.  
Friction

A ball thrown down the lane will slow down over its course. The main cause of this is Friction. The magnitude of the friction between the bowling ball and bowling lane depends on what the surfaces are made of and the amount of oil on the lane, if there is any at all, and the mass of the ball. Some lanes will have no conditioning on it at all, while others will have oil placed to a certain degree on different areas of the lane. As the bowling ball travels down the lane, the friction between the ball and the boards will slow it down. The composition of the oil, and where it is more dense on the lane will have a different effect of the ball as it travels along the lane. The more oil that is laid down, the less friction there is between the ball and the lane surface.The less friction, the harder it is for the bowler to send the ball in a curved path imparted by the spin that the bowler puts on the ball at the instant of release.

The equation to find the kinetic friction is : µk=Fk/mg. µk stands for the coefficient of kinetic friction and Fk stands for the Force due to kinetic friction, m is the mass of the ball and g stands for gravity.

Gravity


What is gravity? The value of gravity (g) is 32 ft/s2 (feet per second squared) or 9.8 m/s2 (meters per second squared). This value is a constant, which means that all objects fall to the earth at the same rate of acceleration, no matter how much they weigh (there is some slight variation in the value for g depending where on earth you are located).


Nina


I know I over analyze everything in my life.  Everything.  So its not odd that I have began getting to understand much of my character and constitution each week that I bowl.   Depending on the level of anxiety I am carrying I can feel it in my motions and my concentration.

 I noticed that on nights that it had been a day of high conflict, each time I would throw my ball,  the "crazy woman in my head"  would scream a word of worry or fear to me.  Sometimes it was so loud, I found myself looking around to see if anyone heard it.   It was terribly uncomfortable.  

Last week I made a big discovery.   I am having trouble letting go of my ball.  (control freak red flag anyone?) I would get up to the line and my hand was gripping the ball so hard it barely left my hand.   Not letting go is typical of people like me.  I practiced going up there relaxing my hand.   It wasn't easy but it made a difference. 

It appears I will be working on letting go gracefully the rest of the bowling season.  I will be taking home the lessons I am learning from bowling.   There is gravity, friction,  and learning to release what I have no control over and accepting that what will be, will be, once my ball has left my hand.  Once I let go.









Tuesday, January 05, 2010

"DYKE" is not derogatory.




...just wanted to clear that up for the younger generation.

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Monday, January 04, 2010

moments


We miss each desperately and it shows up in the subtlest, quiet moments that are secretly snapped by a quick cell phone snapper.

We spent the weekend together, we stuffed ourselves with chinese food, we huddled together trying to remember what mother and daughter togetherness is like. I know what I was thinking right then.




"God I love my babies."


"God I love this moment."


"God please heal our broken home."


" God please renew our broken routines."


"God please heal our broken hearts."




"God, please stop me from taken thirds of peppered shrimp and onions during my next visit."




amen




Friday, January 01, 2010

2010


The Knots Prayer

Dear God,
please untie the knots
that are in my mind,
my heart and my life.
Remove the have nots,
the can nots and the do nots
that I have in my mind.

Erase the will nots, may nots,
and might nots
that find a home in my heart.
Release me from the could nots,
would nots and should nots
that obstruct my life.

And most of all, dear God,
I ask that you remove from my mind my heart and my life
all of the am nots
that I have allowed to hold me back,
especially the thought that I am not good enough.
Amen.

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Thursday, December 31, 2009

Sorry 2009 but I am breaking up with you!!!

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Sunday, December 27, 2009

The Sound of My Shoes

I noticed just recently the sound my high heels make as they hit the ground while I am walking. Its not a click, but its not a clomp like a Clydesdale. It reverberates in my ears on a quiet morning, as I find myself breaking away from a group of friends to go off to whatever it is I need to do. The single sound of a woman walking with purpose. With direction. A woman of worth. Graceful, beautiful, strong, spiritual...

Part of me wonders playfully, if I am just a little girl walking in dress ups, pretending to be a grown up. Pretending to be confident. I glance down to reassure myself, do they really fit? I smile, calmly taking in a deep breath because I can clearly see that they do.

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Forgiveness

Forgiveness from God? Forgiveness from ourselves? Its a burden we carry around. We saw this in church this morning and its been with me ever since.



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Friday, December 25, 2009

Merry Christmas!







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Sunday, December 20, 2009

It's Solstice mom...

As a child I had very little insight as to why my mother would tearfully watch as the days grew shorter each fall. As a child I looked ahead to all things winter with my heart forever in the present. Her words of excitement when the days started to get longer again I dismissed as "silly mother stuff'.

Looking now through the eyes of an adult I realize my mother most likely suffered from SADD before there was such a thing. She loved to have her hands in the soil. She was part of every plant she ever planted. She made roses thrive and iris grow incredibly tall. She was engaged in a silent dance of celebration with the earth. I have her to thank for all those summer mornings I awoke to the sound of the mower and the smell a fresh cut grass. I have her to thank for my love of gardening and my craving for the smell of warm peat moss. I have her to thank for the desire to dance a silent dance.

My mother was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer in the spring of'94. The first words out of her mouth were "I want to live to seeanother spring". The Dr. kindly touched her shoulder and gave herone more spring. I know that he didn't mean it. But he'll never know the joy that brought to my mom. The joy of one more spring.The joy of one more dance. And dance she did. She bought me several flats of petunias that year and sat in a chairand watched as I planted them. And we talked of the spring, of life,of beauty. As summer waned she began to lose strength. Almost asif her body was solar powered. Again she looked to Solstice and called me that day to proclaim the return of daylight. Each day my mother inched her way toward her spring defying Dr.s expectations of her. We had another lovely spring and summer. Although the sun didn't seem to energize her body like it did before I could tell her soul still danced in the sunlight. I lost her that year but only after the days started getting shorter. Her least favorite time of year.

I fell into despair and darkness. Darkness of my soul and darkness of the season. Although I didn't realize it at the time I began yearning for the daylight. For warmth and renewal. For the dance. When the calendar revealed its darkest day my heart leaped with joy. The sun was returning! Life was returning! It was then I realized my mother had left behind as a gift to me her love of the sun and the steps to the dance.I woke up this morning with a lighter heart and a secret excitement. I peeked outside at my sleeping garden. It would soon know what I knew. In quiet reflection I heard myself proclaim, "The sun is coming! It's Solstice again mom...it is time to dance"

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Saturday, December 19, 2009

Winter Solstice



There is no doubt why ancient man had rituals to bring back the sun. Dances and sacrifices to unhappy gods who stole the warmth and the light brought long nights and short days full of unrest and fear. Huddled around my own fire I wait with my ancestors for a sign of reprieve from the heavens.


The Winter Solstice occurs exactly when the earth's axial tilt is farthest away from the sun at its maximum of 23° 26'. Though the Winter Solstice lasts an instant in time, the term is also colloquially used like Midwinter to refer to the day on which it occurs. For most people in the high latitudes this is commonly known as the shortest day and the sun's daily maximum position in the sky is the lowest. The seasonal significance of the Winter Solstice is in the reversal of the gradual lengthening of nights and shortening of days. The Winter Solstice is also the shortest day or lowest sun position for people in low latitudes located between the Tropic of Cancer (23°26'N) and the Tropic of Capricorn (23°26'S).[1] Depending on the shift of the calendar, the winter solstice occurs some time between December 21 and December 22 each year in the Northern Hemisphere, and between June 20 and June 21 in the Southern Hemisphere.[2]



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Sunday, December 13, 2009

blessings upon the stone

write your sorrows across the water in which you find yourself drowning
praying for an unseen shore, tossed by the waves and helpless.

write your blessings upon the stones
as you reach the shore to safety.
you will turn to see your sorrows have been tossed by the waves into oblivion
turning back again underneath a steady hand you will see which will belong to you forever.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Scars

We all have them. Some of us are given them at birth. Some of us acquire them along the way. Some come from no fault of our own, some come from choices we make. Some are given to us by others, accidentally or unfortunately, on purpose. But eventually we all become one of the walking wounded.

This is not a sad soliloquy that follows. This is an affirmation that we carry our scars, our imperfections for a reason. God, Goddess, Higher Power, or Collective Humanity. Whichever you subscribe to, assigns no shame on where you are or where you have been. You have a story and that is what is important. You have insight, that is what is important. You have advice, that is what is important. Your imperfections, your scars are a gift.

Some of us can just roll up our sleeves and it is obvious from the cigarette burns, razor slashes or track marks. Our stories are easier seen. Some of us need to unzip our bodies to show the scars on our psyche, our hearts, our souls in order to assure those around us of our commonality. Some of our struggles are ongoing. I would venture to say, most of our struggles are ongoing. Some of us need a drink to steady our hand, some of us will crave something for the rest of our lives even though we have turned away from the tray. Some of us will flinch if anything moves quickly on our periphery.

These scars, these experiences, we should not hide out of fear or shame. These are gifts we can bring to others. So many of us feel alone. Isolated. Misunderstood. We feel less than, looked down upon, judged, minimized. These scars you bear could be your brother's salvation.

"Ye are the light of the world. A city that is set on an hill cannot be hid. Neither do men light a candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick; and it giveth light unto all that are in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven."
Matthew 5:14-16

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