A Way

There has to be a way out of this stalemate.


Is it just me who’s feeling the beckoning of desire up against the drag of communication? Doesn’t seem to be productive in any way – this attempted “fight no more forever” deal breaker between the ex and I. I’d be all for putting down arms, and basically have – but him: he seems to embody what it means to entrap, con, manipulate and belabor. Bah! Move along I say! Move along to a time in your life where you’re actually living it out in the scope of what it means to be you; not me, not through our child.

More about me: about how I can alter perspective, how I am able to accept life and change it into a fine pair of spectacles for viewing it through. Of how I choose to accept language – language of love and life and of dispelling fear. Fear governing much of what happens – that we might not account for enough, harbor too much pain to be inoculated against it and at some point, after years of treading life’s waters, that we might not have enough air to breathe until we get to shore. Silly fear. Such a waste.

You know what was exciting about Ginger being the barefoot temptress and askew chanteuse on an island? It was that she trod her own desire in light of the circumstances of her train-wreck existence. For a character designed on sarcasm and a sharp tongue, my identity met its match and then it transcended to another level, as dear Ginger donned her gown and traipsed into the next melodramatic scene. I effortlessly apply too much thought into what it means for something to have meaning.

Open mouth and express a new found liberty of perspective and wishfully waiting to hear feedback, I sit.

The circle-‘round effect is squared off at the shoulders of making peace with my demons. Most of whom have already vacated the premise, but still – a few remain. They may always be the stow-away kind to “poke” attention to things that should have died long ago; ideas, thoughts, memories, etc. Acknowledging them just enough to kick them out of the way. They’ve been worried over enough – given enough time and energy and no longer are they mine. They just happen to reside in the deep, dark voids of my brain.

Four, three, two...

I don’t know exactly where it started: the fear. I believe it to have been something like that of a constant drip. It began and just didn’t cease; drip, drip, drip, fear growing as I tried to balance curiosity with learning. It was a matter of waging war between heart and brain, of that I'm certain. Brain urged reality, desire for freedom and suggested ways out that would surely leave me as emotionally-void as he. And heart – well heart may have helped the drip of fear more than it was entitled to. It too, was scared. Mentally, I can picture it as the scales of justice – or as it would be at the time; justification. Everything from the sociopathic stance was justified to me: so much so that the directive soon came to: “Write down what I say. That will enable you to go back through and remind yourself of what your problems are”.



That was nearly ten years ago. And those novels that were to serve as reminders – they’ve been burned to ashes.


The thoughts however, they stir. Like dusty, clinging webs of pragmatic demise, they hang in the far regions of my mind. “What my problems are…?” What are my problems? I can see now what they may have been then, but do they still infiltrate my actions now? I think it’s like the teachings of the power of the unconscious state: that we all bring a program of hopes and dreams, of fears and behaviors with us as we transcend into adulthood; into relationships. It’s unconscious – it’s seemingly subtle and yet, like a vapor it interrupts our adult lives with the search for unmet childhood needs, not recognizing boundaries or walls.



Drip, Drip, Drip.



The webs are relevant because now and again, I take a mental broom to them and open the windows. Their relevance serves to remind in a positive way – to remind that at that time, and maybe even now – I am too kind. I listen, (stubbornly) I engage (directionally) and I anticipate the outcome (prematurely). I expected promises to be fulfilled and carried out. I anticipated the day when all sorrows would be forgotten and when I walked to the mailbox there would be the grandest, most golden invitation to a celebration in my honor. TA-DA! An apology might soon follow for contending with all those things that hurt and traumatized, that injured and frightened me and being that I was so forgiving, I would take my golden invitation and check, check, and triple-check the date to make certain that I showed up early for the big day. That day didn’t come though…and it never will. Not in that regard. Because it’s been lived; that facet of my life – that experience and all the tools, tears, fears and happiness that it brought with it has been lived. It creates cobwebs at this point and some I keep, but most go through the open window.


I anticipated that there would be more sorrow than this. And maybe it’s because I held on for far too long – wanting for things to change and be what I saw them as in my mind’s eye. They couldn’t possibly live up to that expectation, ideal as it seemed. And now…now it’s a cartoon of sorts. The memories – the ones that must go now, they hang with four fingers clutched to the edge of a cliff. I'm above those fingers and one by one, I pluck them off. Four…three…two…*BINK*….they fall away.

Dear Self

Dear Self:


It is precisely at this point in time that you need be reminded of some very dear attributes and coincidences that affect your being.

You are no longer subject to the hassle and persecution of your other being – the one that has kept you prisoner for far too long to the scrutiny of your self. You have broken free from the chains that bind in that matter and you’ve been afforded another opportunity to live your life “as if”. In this calling, you shall immediately begin every action as-if it were for the best of every dream and desire you’ve ever had. There is no judgment that will take from you another ounce of energy or life force, it is not allowed. There is nothing that can return you to the point of a critical state of breathing for you have weathered the storms to this point and you’ve been handed the “pass Go, collect $200” from your maker.


Your life as it was is not your life any longer. It has bearing only to the point that you remember the nuances which guided you; that you recall the elements that were so harsh that with the deepest breath of air you know you will never have to live that again. NEVER! You shall discontinue visiting that place that harbors pain and anger to the point that you are rendered helpless. You are not helpless. You are not a victim. You are strong and come in a complete survival package, full of the accoutrements that every “backpacking-through-life-being” needs; even the little matching blue-speckled cup and saucer set.


The path you’ve trod to this point was orchestrated in such a manner as to teach you all the core elements of moral and ethical masters. It was no mistake – and for the record, you passed. The intention was to get you to learn and to foster belief that you absolutely can make it through your storms, no matter what degree they reign down upon you. From this, you’ve garnered a new outlook and understanding – you are stronger than you ever gave yourself credit for and more beautiful when looking from the inside-out. You cannot gauge your actions through the eyes of others – only through yourself and from this you will find great peace and serenity at knowing you are exactly where you are supposed to be. You exist in the plain of a beacon – showing to others what it means to live a good life and though you get weary, your purpose in life is beyond measure. You have been looking for a quantity that will make it all “fair” but there is no fairness when your footsteps have precision in their step and intention in their making.


Keep walking as if – and everything – absolutely everything will unfold before your eyes. To such an extent that the words will elude you for description and your senses will be filled with the acknowledgement that purpose has found you and you are home.