Tag: identity

A Realization

Readings no longer provide me with much information. All paths are now open to me. With none contraindicated, I am able to make good on any one of these. I recognize & organize all powers to my good.

The incoming storm pulled me into the reading at which I realized this. I always hope for good guidance & now understand all I’m doing is sorting through street signs when I already know where I am & the way to go. These only await the doing to achieve the imprimatur of reality. My reality is no one else’s: imagine this! In a world of billions, no one else lives my life with my emotional signature or ideas! No one speaks my words nor understands in the same way as I do.

My taste receptors have changed, that tells me to eat less. I used to eat with a kind of desperation, with the idea my best satisfaction came from that activity. What was I attempting to recapture? Where else can I achieve satiety? It is the memory of another me – the former me – the distractive & unknowing me of yesterday. (I notice I largely remember to whom I’ve told my stories, while listening to those of others ad infinitum. It’s pushing a button: one word releases their tape to recite the speech I have heard before. I realize I am given what I asked for – New Thoughts! I am not shackled to my stories anymore. I can discriminate as to what needs to be heard so I know what is to be shared. If every word makes an impression, why dig the groove that takes me back to that nonproductive mindset from which I repeat the fight to be free?

This recent reading does tell me it is time to enact. There’s the place where my energy will grow into that in which others wish to participate. Each written word is a presage to speaking it.

It’s close. I can feel it. I can taste it in the Now.

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That’s a Plan, Yeh?

It’s ok to be just little me with a big dream, isn’t it? Okay to find my way one footstep at a time across a dark room where light shines from my heart & my eyes to bring along anyone who wants to accompany me to my “here,” right? I hope so, cuz that’s how I’m handling it now.

The palette of emotions drips from the wood; even Michelangelo would be hard-put to create from these colors. The beauty of what is out there is contrasted by the harshness of what is in there – from the macrocosm to the microcosm. And yet only by revealing the ugly can we persevere through the creation of a new world a-borning, bearing us along with it into a dimension where sound is color & senses reel at the promise being created before our very eyes.

I take in one world through all my outer senses while my inner senses vibrate to another. My reality is not real estate, but an imaginary realm of the real that forms up around me like an invisible filter through which I perceive.

Friends fall away if their motives do not bear scrutiny. I wave them off & turn to continue my way. Sometimes I will wonder what happened to them, where they went & why. Sometimes it will seem I did not have to give them up, but somehow, they gave themselves away. Sometimes my heart will open to a glimpse of them “through a glass darkly” … will they miss me?

I am finding out who & what truth is, what it means to me, how to perceive it from best presentation. I discover what I can afford in terms of being a friend. Being in service brings the most return…friendship assumes, with concomitant outcome. Friendship impinges, at times, costs me phone minutes, hours on the clock better used for self-development, little stings to my heart of which I once took no notice. Now, not only aware but sensitized, I understand the difference between the ley lines & the lay of the land. What do bells & whistles serve but to make noise? What do I crave but the silence of my own thoughts happening inside my own head?

I do crave the thoughts you think about me – but only if they’re good ones. Bullshit on constructive criticism: take me as I am or take yourself away. I have grown from a cuddly kitten (tho there are at least two husbands out there to argue that point, the third being dead.) Anyway, from a cuddly kitten to a scaly armadillo, a spiky porcupine, a blowfish thrilled to puff into a terrifying sight, but still vulnerable to protective custody.

Does that mean more than it says? Why do you think I’d know? I am doing a consciousness stream here, a flow of brainwaves washed up on your beach…a glisten of bubbles soon popped by sandpiper feet.  And as some drop away, others rise up cuz that vacuum thing just can’t happen here. Even when I’m sitting still there is something happening inside. My heart beats, my liver thinks, my kidneys filter … all in what I might perceive as silence, but which is actually a storm of perfect precision & hum.

In the mineral water hotbaths, I like putting my ears underwater where I can hear the swish-lub-dub of my heart. In this one organ, clamoring over all the others, I find an existence, a proof of life unavailable in the quiet buzz of adrenal gland, the static revisioning of the colon, the lost movement of muscles in stillness.

An ambiance of spacetime surrounds me. I am spackled with creative clay, which is fun to play with, but which, in my hands, shapes no masterpieces.  I am both starred & tarred with the brush of God’s love – pushing me into sure adventure in His name & tickling the belly of exactly where I am this moment.

Ok. I confess, I have no idea what I’m doing here. I live day to day & work it out as I go. I’ll never lead a country to a promised land, unless others want to follow me around on the off chance I’ll discover one. I intend to live it my way, try hard not to be a target, continue to improve my verbal & written skills, wind my way into your psyche & love all I can.

That’s a plan, yeh?

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Living as Though I’m Alive

My little heart yearns for beauty. We look under the winter-crackled leaves, turn over pebbles. We peer into relationships for Saviors. We are soothed by desert rain & the strong, piercing sunlight limning the horizon to East & West as Sol passes over the landscape, also likely searching.

What have we found? At the end of the day, I empty my pockets on the bureau. Some coins, uncomfortable earrings, a phone number scribbled with a name I already do not recall what I promised to provide them. Lately, I have taken to “listening to music” at the end of the day – putting down the book or the computer & just taking in lyrics from various songs. And these are all about love. Even in this dry & artificial way, my day ends with love.

Someday someone will sing a song over me. Someday I will wear that beautiful dress, be a beautiful mess, meet a pair of eyes in a café, be asked into relationship, be invited into the arms of an already dancing body…I just need to hold on a little longer.

My boundaries don’t so much as narrow as entrench. It is more of an effort to cross them in search of. I care less about the shape of my body than the shape of my lonely heart. As the physical condenses, the spiritual expands into a cool cloud in search of ignition. When the match strikes, I will be overcome with love, cast so deeply into the energy I am so ready for & all about.

My fate sits like the cat outside the mousehole. There is no menace here, only mystery. Will I be embraced or tattered? Can either matter? I am as old as I am…my secret passages are shattered by my own hand – always seeking.

I used to put things together; now I pull them apart for the juicy center. Now I wonder if circumcision – cutting myself off for exposure – is the way to proceed. What profit here? Cui bono? Maybe within the secret, smelly darkness where there’s a proliferation of underlife I will find love. For the sake of all holy or hellish, I have stood on the mountaintops of life & scanned the vistas. 

I have seen the beauty, taken in the airs. I have profited experience from the storms at sea washing treasure onto my beaches. I have shaken spears at the menace on the horizon. I have cried into my own arms of a night again alone. I pick up smooth pebbles on the beach, lacking the wherewithal to build my own house. So I dwell in the backrooms of love, never venturing out unguarded.

No more! Now I am walking naked, fat may flab where it may…I am declaring my beauty of soul. I am tearstained, bloody, hungry. I am a menace to myself with this exposure but ask if I care. The blue days give way to white nights. I sleep as though there is a tomorrow to live for.

I am the sugar spooned into the cup of life, swirled about in a dizzy tizzy…scooped up, poured over, sipped & tasted for exotic flavor. I am in love with home sweet home, with home sweet love, with dancing every cell loose from its center. I will no longer behave according to catechism…these words have worn out a welcome I should never have borne.

Before death finds me napping on the periphery of life, I will enjoin it fully! I will take my soul in both hands, put it into the waters of love, watch it expand. I will drag it back to slit it open, inserting my heart. I am here to experience life & I will throw myself onto it in full tackle, bring it into all I am, wriggle with its subduction, its seduction. I am not here to overcome anymore; I’ve beaten at the cat’s whiskers so many times.

Devour me or drive me off, O Life. No more games here, I haven’t the time to be other than who I have become after all these years. Get behind me or in front of me but get out of my way! I’m coming through, Life. It’s my time.

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Peeling the Price Tags Off Life

Dear World, At first I thought these were separate poems…but as I reread them before this posting, I realize they are One Rant About Living Life. The choices are upon you, made from you, about you.

Jump on in!

PEELING THE PRICE TAGS OFF LIFE

One by one,

I scrape at these with ragged fingernails

Burning a torch in daylight

Nothing is as expected

Unless you cast off suffering

Reclaim your power

Lose the knowledge of being poor

To manifest the many lives we know

To be Available.

Stand still for no distractions.

Reach & clamp onto the wrist of the hand

Slipping into your wallet

Pinch it off. Cast it into slag heaps for the fire!

I am entitled; I am no commoner, no serf

Tho my wages are less than modest

My dreams are not

Each day is one more step into an

Unknown of my own making

Mal-informed, uninformed, misinformed

I take no heroes from among false gods

I declare myself immanent

There is no time left for dissimulation!

Our souls have been hacked

Our thoughts are written in the skies

We move in & out of credibility

With impunity; but life is not a fiction role

Where is your truth?

What has happened to your kingdom?

Where is your wealth?

Sucked dry by siege, by sanction

By laws against nature –

YOUR NATURE!

The sins of other’s fathers

Visited upon my ravaged soul

I would claim my own

Had I time to commit them

But I am wound about $9/hour

Still wondering if the coffers will

Ever clink with coin

To pay the owings engineered by other men.

I am in my own word-war, world-war

My own upsurge of independence

Created by simple aging

The four horsemen mill outside

Their minions ring the house

While one smiles, reaching for the doorbell

But I am not going to answer this call

I am no longer either in control of my thoughts

Nor in thought control…

I have moved beyond into a kind of

Lifelike improvisation

Where breath is enough

Where life is enough

Where love is never enough

Since that pushes me into the arms of others

To seek it, bring it, endure it, bow to it,

Embrace it, one from all, from one.

There is no denial in my life anymore

Only very careful choices,

Sifting thru the gemstones to find one that fits

The one that seats in my navel

Upleveling the energy of eternity

Emanating.

The blessing I place on my forehead

Shines on anyone more poor than I

Pulling them into a light

Where they dust off their lapels & fasten a flower.

I will be the one who makes it through

All Systems.

I will be loved, I will make my way

Cannot you see where your life has led you?

The life you waste in watching the lives of others

On a bright & fervent-fevered screen?

Outside, the sun is rising/setting,

Outside the skies dance with moons & stars

The air will feed you; the light is nourishment

Why would you forego this for pretending?

It is so seductive to live your own life

Free from corporate lies, medical rumors,

It is a privilege to worship the gods of my living

The angels of my choices bear me up

Out of abandonment

Into the fullest expression of life I can be.

I spend no time following the false

I worship no idles (sic)

My life moves forward of its own volition

Pulling me forward, pushing me upward.

Curtains open every day to new stages,

Stepping into palaces where I meet

The leadership of life to whom I will not give my power.

My life isn’t made of falseness

I recognize the limits of my godhood

I acknowledge the fierceness of my warrior-self

Fully. I juggle words like knives

Some do make me bleed,

None make me weep.

I have been known to make stupid choices

But only by others: to me they validate

Existence.

My life is defined by the next new pen I buy

(Herein my craft, my croft)

My boundaries gallop beyond any distance my aged eyes might see

For where the world ends

My imagination begins.

My rogue nature emerges

In the house I once divided

Yet pull back together now

The redeemers have entered

My social circle

We join hands & raise them to the sky

No longer silent, but voices raised collectively

In a song to rock the world from lullaby to

Willful march,

Be you fruitful in your thoughts; it will

Ring the world

Will take us out of comfortable orbit

Into prophecy & foretelling

Where the story ends well

Where the lovers get their Kiss

Where the wars subside into the very ground

They so bloodily seeded

The deceivings of the users

Thinking themselves possessed of forked lighting

Will instead experience my laser

Of shattering power

My brain will emerge

Through my heart

I will love the world back into being.

The Truth is not afraid of you.

Why do you fear it in return?

Your soul has never shirked from duty

To shepherd you into divinity

To reveal your god-nature

The certainty of this

Is writ upon the granite cores of worlds

Your parallel thoughts

Wrinkle stars with ponderance

The light of your being alone

Has stifled hunger, seeded worlds, changed a universe

In its course

The life you bring to life

Is unbelievable

Were it not to be believed by simple existence

Keep moving forward, keep holding forth

Your heart, keep offering

Your being to service

For everyone is more needy than you

By virtue of not being you.

With love,

Carol Borsello          9.15.2018

http://www.carolborsello.blog

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Changeling

Every day I am restored by the grace to begin again. Actually, every moment is such. All the large beginnings: leaving husbands, letting go of lives so carefully gathered & nervously lived, turning away from daughters & lovers whose love for me was as real as my love for them…

I am who I am because each relationship began & ended. I am free & unbound & if I had hair, it’d be blowing in the wind of my life now passing by.

I am here to start dreams – though this means my expertise rises from endings. For all passages require one closed door & one that’s opening. Doorways equal transitions (which is why we forget what it was we wanted in the other room as we pass through them.)

Walking from one door to another requires a special energy that gathers as desire rachets down tightly, curling upon itself until the tension binds into a release. All else is wished away. The “New” laps around me like a litter of puppies, soft, round, happy, panting & yipping in eagerness to be experienced.

Even from this, I remove myself at times. I wonder about me. Every month brings a new moon & a full, the bright rebalances the dark. I initiate by becoming an initiate following an initiative.

I have done harm, yes. The landscape is littered with what I probably should have done. But I picked my way carefully through the detritus I’d made of my relationships, through the hash made of my relationships by the others in them. I clawed out of the spoils to that bright new day of welcome opening for me, as though I was the only pure thing it would ever see.

I trust with a full heart. I unfold as though the sun will shine forever. I keep believing, as all the songs say I must do. And when the fear sends me scurrying for the coat pockets to check for lost, linty money, or shaking the piggy bank for funds to finish the month, I live with it. I recover my joy whether there are enough coins to rattle or one single jingle.

In coming this far, I have taken the journey home. There is no arrival for I am always where I am: at home. There is wisdom here, and courage. There is heart-mind, order & determination. “All the time I’ve wasted is given back to me”* I’ve learned it’s okay to draw a blank at first. Sometimes a close encounter with a rhino & subsequent clean-up is the best I can manage. Whatever.

I don’t flicker anymore. I burn. People are singed near me. I have gone Samurai, a world-warrior forged by life’s forgiveness. Each place I have halted, I have gathered more.

If I seem part of a crowd, it’s only because I’ve stood still & the others have caught up. I can wait for them to pass me. Living alone is not my fear. Alone is one letter off of God: All-One. And I am all-in-one now.

I’m accustomed to the unexpected; I accept the occasional maladroit gifts I offer. Things usually come up right though it may be by a longer route.

Dreams always come true (at least mine.) If it isn’t in my life, I haven’t dreamed of it. I have come to view this as choosing, not limiting. Days march past on the calendar like ants, purposeful, fulfilling, each carrying one burden to release at the end of the day as a pearl of sustenance. Every before becomes an after. I sleep in my dreams like silk pajamas.

The unexpected turns into synchronicity.

It’s taken some time, but I believe in me & that is only because I’m a fragment of my own imagination, burning candles kindled at both ends. The light’s better that way, when seeking blessings.

“It happened without a fight

Something is new about me

I feel it with each breath

There’s a majesty about me

A majesty about me…

I feel it in my self

A new heaven a new earth

Is all that I see” *

—————————

*lines from “I’m Changed” composed by Ricky Byars-Beckwith.

I’m Changed sung by Angel Travis

 

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