Let’s Stay In

Let’s stay in.

As the wind echos through the pines.

As the cold nip bites deep and the sun plays peekaboo behind the clouds.

Nestled by the warmth permeating from the fires blaze.

Plans for going out.

Music floating through the air.

A menu painted with magical cuisine.

Couples dancing, friends laughing, dishes clinking.

Yet my homebody heart bellows a familiar refrain.

Let’s stay in.

Wrapped in fabrics that swoon my skin.

Swathed in the grip of soft cushions.

Snuggled up close to the one my heart loves.

While going out whispers a whimsical serenade.

Let’s stay in captures my soul.

Thirty Percent

Heard a story of a man who completed a video game. At this accomplishment, he felt victory! His entire goal was, in-fact, to complete it and he did. Once completed the man received a statistic sheet that presented his performance. Along with his accomplishments, what he did complete while playing, it also exposed all of the things he missed during the game. All of the chances and opportunities that he passed up on in his determination to finish. After reviewing the details, the man received an overall achievement score- 30%. Of all the available experiences in the game, developed for his enjoyment, he had only completed 30%…

So set on a goal to finish, he missed nearly all of it.

Is this me?

This is me.

So set on how life should be. On the 1 year, 5 year, 10 year goal, I miss it all.

I don’t want to finish this thing and have only done 30%.

I want to dance every time i have the opportunity.

I want to smell all the flowers even if it takes more time.

I want to listen to my kids stories even if I am tired.

Buy the shoes.

Use the bath bombs.

Wear what makes me feel beautiful.

Get the tattoo.

Not wait until the perfect time, the perfect weather, until the weekend…

Life is happening right now, all around me. Begging me to live it. Calling me deeper.

Take the detour.

Go left instead of right.

Eat the pancakes.

Live to 100%

Don’t settle for just finishing.

Pink glitter bath water.

My bath water is pink.

With gold glitter.

At this very moment… my eyes register these occurrences as the most beautiful things in the entire universe.

I have been trying to capture its beauty with a picture, but they all appear murky.

They all fall short.

This is life’s moments.

Moments made just for you.

You try to share them, post them, express them but they fall so desperately short.

Because friend, they are made for you.

For me.

Your specific souls medicine.

At the prescribed time.

Bask in them.

In a world so broken, they are few and far between.

Or we are so distracted- we miss them.

So when they arrive…

Let them in.

Breathe them in.

Don’t exhale.

Just a bit longer.

Thank you discount glitter bath bomb.

Thank you pink bath water.

Thank you gold glitter dancing in the wake.

Tonight you were balm to my soul.

Oh, let me see.

Oh, how many times I have pointed the preverbal finger at the masses, yet being guilty of so much.

Oh, how blinding it can be up a top the high horse, as if the air atop is thinner, causing the senses to be blocked.

Crucifying others for their areas of lack, yet delicately sweeping mine under the elaborate preverbal rug.

Conjuring excuses for my fault lines while spewing judgements for theirs.

Oh, if only I could apply eyes of grace to those around me, like I so effortlessly bestow in my moments of shortcoming.

Oh, if only I could behave as a merciful martyr rather than a pious judge.

My lack of understanding betrays me. It compels me to cast judgement on all differing from my assumptions.

For it is what I do not understand, I so hastily decree verdict.

It is my lack of understanding that breeds behest.

Oh, give me eyes to see differently.

To see what is and not what is not.

To see as an artist viewing his masterpiece. Every line, smudge, stroke.

To see and not judge.

Rip apart my preconceived notions and replace with overwhelming compassion.

Oh, let me see.

Magic.

The warmth of fudge brownie coffee steaming from my pumpkin shaped coffee mug on a lazy Sunday morning.

Watching the steam as it billows and puffs like the slow push of the white cloud from a locomotive.

Wrapped in the fluff of a wooly blanket, soft, cozy and soothing.

Lingering gazes through the window pane, watching the trees dance and leaves tumble to the ground in their graceful dance of fall.

The scent of the season fills the air from the candles flickering flame. Crackles and pops blend with the sweet birds serenade creating a magical symphony.

The colors of fall paint the insides of my soul. Burnt oranges, vibrant reds, deep maroons and majestic yellows light a fire that spark me to life.

Fall is magic to me.

Burn.

My heart burns for adventure.

Burns to be a princess held captive in a tower.

Burns to be a fierce spitfire robbing the rich to feed the poor.

Burns to rip apart the wretchedness of this world in one fail swoop.

Burns to adorn the most beautiful gown and enchant the most charming prince.

Adventures of grandeur.

Adventures built on spontaneity and spectacle.

Adventures told to those to come by campfire crackles.

Adventures that beseech life and exude passion.

The trick though…

Cultivate this adventure thirsty soul in the midst of the mundane.

The nitty gritty.

The everyday.

The unexceptional.

These are the moments- mission critical.

Impatience my worst foe.

Balance my fluttering soul.

Weight my wafting wings.

Time makes room for adventure.

Until then speak peace.

Peace.

Windex.

Windex.

A rather simple item to purchase, however; yesterday this is the item that single handedly dropped me in a time warp and shot me into reality.

As I stood in the grocery aisle studying the multitude of glass cleaning products available, I was slapped in the face with adulthood. Mind you, this is not the first time I have been suddenly aware that I am an adult, it is just the most recent. Never, in a million years could I ever have conjured up, that as an adult, I would one day spend; not just one moment, but several moments contemplating what glass cleaner to buy. Scrutinizing the pros slapped on the labels of each product. Trying to recall what I have used in the past and recounting their effectiveness. Mentally comparing all the prices and how it fits in the budget.

Budget. Another FUN word.

As a child and teen, adulthood seems so sexy, so exciting, so alluring.

Ha. Ha. Ha.

You definitely aren’t considering household cleaning product purchases as a highlight in the imaginary reel you play in your mind as you are plotting your escape from adolescence.

Yet here I am. In the thick of it.

At some point it happens to all of us.

I remember being in the car with my mom and the song “Ain’t Goin’ Down” by Garth Brooks was playing. A piece of the lyric says, “Momma’s on the front porch screamin’ out her warning, girl you better get your red head back in bed before the morning”. In that moment my mother, very casually said, “I used to be the red head girl and now I am the mom screaming the warning. Hmmmm, when did that happen?” She may not even remember this moment, but I do so vividly.

Adulthood. Whap. Right in the face.

I suppose these moments will continue. Maybe they start to feel less and less like an out of body experience. Perhaps, we begin to actually feel like adults rather than an imposter with a big secret…Pssssss….I may look like an adult, but really I am just a child in a large body.

Who knows.

One day at a time madaam.

One day at a time.

In the still.

It is in the still that the battle is won.

In the silence.

When I surrender and you take over.

That is where victory happens.

Not in my striving but in my surrender.

When I come.

I bow.

I humble.

I lay down my weapons.

Allowing stillness to crash into me.

That is when you go to battle.

You tire not.

You strive not.

You win when I relinquish.

Opening my hands and letting all go.

It is in the still.

You are.

Anxious soul, why do you fret?

Why do you toil and ponder?

Why do you produce doubt and worry?

Anxious thoughts, why do you run wild?

Why do you conjure up imaginations?

Why do you manufacture false realities?

On my own, anxiousness abounds.

Left to my on vices, worry dominates.

Holy Spirit! Be the blanket that snuffs this anxious unrest.

Engulf the flame of my imagination and breathe a new flame.

A flame of peace.

Soothe my anxious soul.

Tranquilize the destructive thought.

Speak truth into me.

Into your creation.

Truth of who You are.

Truth of what You are capable of.

No giant of my anxious imagination holds a candle to who You are.

You crush all foes.

You uproot all doubt.

You are.

You are.

You are everything that I need. Even that which I know not.

Sustenance.

Before the need is made know.

You know because You are.

You are.

Wander

Here I am.

Here you are.

Where you have always been.

You are steady.

You never left.

It was I who wandered.

In my impatience.

In my weariness.

Rather than resting. Waiting.

I wander.

Light abides where you are.

Yet I wander.

Crushing insecurity draws me to drift.

Yet as I stray, they only become greater.

At your feet they silence. Muted in an instant.

Yet I wander.

Mocked by my internal soundtrack, overwhelmingly whispering defeat.

Invisible assailant smothering every breath.

Darkness encompasses the wandering.

Like a blind man in a foreign environment.

I stumble and seek. Darker and darker the further I drift.

The mocking like a immovable lyric.

Yet in this place.

Where you are steadfast.

All is perfect.

Peace reigns.

As I rest, you fill every empty part.

As I rest, you silence every deafening whisper.

You fill my lungs and at once, I am renewed.

Renewal comes in the resting.

All that was spinning mindlessly out of control is suspended.

All is resting.

No whispers.

No pressures.

No short comings.

All the demons of the wandering must surrender in the rest.