What a Load.

The more I observe my conclusions and ask, “Do I really know this to be true?”, the more free I feel to be me. It’s that simple. The answer is hardly ever affirmative, yet very liberating. I feel that needing to know has much to do with control, and when let go, poof, like magic I feel relieved.

My path led me here and for that I am grateful for all experience. Heart break is one force that brought me to you right now. Recently I realized anger still lingered in me, as it had for some time. Shame, betrayal, abandonment; these are all subtle forms of anger. Feeling unworthy of love, worried to feel vulnerable, afraid to let go of the past; these are examples of inward anger. By being aware of my patterns I’ve been able to connect with the love that was always inside. Yes, to be loved by another can be and feel remarkable, but not another can do the loving for you.

There are many shapes of heart ache, just as there are as many of love. Our world, this globe of Earth we call home with its many life forms clinging to it are all undergoing one form or another. Our hearts are big enough to love and break time and time again, it is ultimately what you carry through, be it light or heavy. But, do I really know this to be true? Nope, can’t say that I do.


A Paddle-steamer in the Storm by JMW Turner circa 1841 Public Domain


Where do you go when I close my eyes? Take a breath between the sounds of far off cries. Shall I fall apart from head to heart? Kundalini’s poignant slither pulling roots from top hats. Who’s side of the Mississippi River? Salutations my dear, have you seen love hanging around here? Last seen between anger and sorrow. Gems of blues leaving for tomorrow. Don’t take that sparkle too far. Let me be your loadstar. Like a gleam, present holds all you can dream. I’ll make room from port to bow, oh what I allowed allowed allowed. Aloud with voices, turned on choices all the while inflammatory thinking ships into a crawl sinking bliss worse of all. Take me dreamboat, nave of here & now, sailing liquid time. Surrendering waves, oh what a paradigm.

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