I Walk

See, here’s the thing. I just want you to hear me.
To understand that I’m a good person.
I have a voice worth hearing.
A woman who sees many things.
More importantly, a human who can understand well beyond common context.

I don't say that boastfully.
It is simply true.
I always have, even as a young child.
My heart developed words that my mind heard.
I have always listened.

I respect your opinion, your thoughts, your ways.
So why can’t you just accept me?
Why do I even have to ask?
Why do I even care?
Why should I?

I’m so tired of your (of everyone's)
inability to allow me to be me.
It's too much I suppose.
Don't be sad for me or assume I need sympathy.
Don't feel like you have to say something.

I’m not always happy; in fact, I’m usually struggling with something every single moment.
I have anxiety and depression.
It is diagnosed.
It can rear its ugly head and bring me tomy knees.
It’s really fucking cumbersome and I get tired.

I have so many moments I don’t share because none of you understand.
How can you explain something to others that they can’t see?
Cant even feel?
But I do, profoundly.
But I'm not the sad girl.

I want to shout. So loudly.
But no one wants to hear that do they?
I want state fervently every word that comes to mind.
Obviously, that shit doesn’t work.
I accept that.

I really just want to leave.
To be alone.
To take care of me because no one else can.
And to let nature surround me with loving warmth
even on the coldest days.

I know I make you uncomfortable.
I know you don’t know what to say.
I get it.
I understand, some things are just too much.
Maybe I am too much.

That’s why I feel alone.
You wouldn’t hold my hand anyway; you’re too timid.
So I walk alone.
As I guess I should.
I suppose that is what is meant for me.


I think I'm okay with that.
So...I Walk.
I walk.

Sad Girl

No one likes the sad girl. She lingers in the corners watching, listening, building castles in the air; it makes you uneasy so you do your best to ignore her. 

No one likes to hear her speak, for she speaks most often of the dark places in her mind. Those dark places are like mirrors and you are afraid of what you might see. Her eyes are like oceans - what lies beneath also lies within. She can see things hidden, she can hear the whispers of the waves, and she can feel what is suppressed. She is the storm.
No one likes to watch her move because her paths are uncharted, unfamiliar, and seemingly indefinite. Her fingers touch the leaves as she walks by, her hand catches the wind through the window. She stops to let the sun shine all of its warmth into her soul. She is the reason for your apprehension. She makes you still.
No one likes the sad girl, her tears and her words contain unfathomable weight. Too much for this world. Along her lines are stories, written by every second she has lived and ever will live. Every wrinkle a tale, every pore a memory, every hair a moment that has touched her. She is indescribable, yet she is tangible. She is not you.
No one wants to get too close. She is never really open though her heart is like a river - ever moving, unrestrained. To see inside, under the current, the clearness of her intentions.The white noise of her raging. To be near her is to burn. She is fire.
No one sings her song. The soft ancient melody that the world has hummed forever, it is hers. A song that changes and forever stays the same. The dark sky that is her, full of stars, most unseen.The moon her only light. She changes the tides and you still can't see.

No one likes the sad girl.
How would they know she is luminescent...

Like A Cuddle

As a kitty curls into your chest
With trust unconditional
And a child holds onto you with
Innocence and true love

I will let go in the same way.
With love and no conditions.
A hug and a kiss
With understanding and sweetness.

Because it means the most to everyone that way.

It's Okay

You can tell me things are wrong but
It's okay
Things may happen that cause dismay but
It's okay
I can pretend to be okay
But I'm not.
You can say you are
But you aren't.
I'm glad we can be honest and admit
We aren't okay
Just so we can be.
Secrets and withheld thoughts only cause us harm
Honesty and love holds us together.
And that's what we are.
Together.
You have said it.
I have said it.
The universe has made it clear.
We will be okay.
No matter how hard or how many times we have to fight.
We. Are. Okay.
And that's why I love you.

What Applies Now

It runs through my mind
Do you want to hear?
I have so many thoughts.
Do I really want to share?

Our lives cross paths.
For reasons I am sure.
We find each other to heal each other.
Why wouldn't we?

So many times we need.,
So many times we don't ask.
Yet we are here and available.
We feel needed when we can help.

That is what friends do.
That is what your village does.
We help one another.
That's what applies now.

As a reminder to all of us-
And please, please share...
We need each other, we want to help.
Let us apply NOW.

The Why

We talked and you said you heard.
I told you what I didn't like.
We had a great night.
But you chose anyway.

You chose a vice over us.
Was it worth it?
Was your high worth the disappountment?
Because it wasnt to us.

I no longer worry about other opinions.
I tried to protect you but no longer.
Your choices are your own.
As are ours.

Decide whats most important.
We may or may not be here in the end.

The Edge

In life we walk.
We choose our own paths.
There are times the path is clear,
And times we must clear our own.

Decisions.
They are so difficult to make.
Because what if you're wrong?
What if you are lead to a cliff?

Then what?

I have making my way down those paths.
All leading to a cliff.
One that there would be no coming back from.
It terrified me.

I stood there so many times.
Looking over, wondering.
Do I go back and find another way?
Or do I jump?

I have processed and pondered.
Imagined and wondered.
Dreamt about and longed for
That edge. That jump.

One day something made me stop
I turned to look back
It was a single gesture, a single moment
With intense relief, I walked away from the edge.

Dear Mom

Dear Mom,

I can't.
Though I want to.
I long to.
But I won't.
All because I am not sure.

What do I do?
Please tell me.
Please help me.

Mom, I wish I could ask you.
Would you know what to tell me?
You would because you love me.
That is all I need right now.

Where do I go when nothing feels right?
How do I decide what is best?
Tell me Mom because I'm hurting right now.
Help me make these jumbled thoughts into good decisions.

Hug me Mom because I need it now.
More than anything I need your hug.
Tell me it will be okay and let me
Lay my head on your shoulder.

I can smell you and see your smile.

Dear Mom,
I need you.
Right now.
I wish you were here.

I really need you.
I really miss you.

My heart hurts mom.
It really hurts.

Let Go

SHE LET GO

~By Rev. Safire Rose~

She let go. Without a thought or a word, she let go. She let go of the fear. She let go of the judgments. She let go of the committee of indecision within her. She let go of all the right reasons. Wholly and completely, without hesitation or worry, she let go.

She didn’t ask anyone for advice. She didn’t read a book on how to let go. She didn’t search the scriptures. She just let go. She let go of all the memories that held her back. She let go of all the anxiety that kept her from moving forward. She let go of the planning and all of the calculations about how to do it just right.

She didn’t promise to let go. She didn’t journal about it. She didn’t write the projected date in her Day Timer. She made no public announcement and put no ad in the paper. She didn’t check the weather report or read her daily horoscope. She just let go.

She didn’t analyze whether she should let go. She didn’t call her friends to discuss the matter. She didn’t utter one word. She just let go.

No one was around when it happened. There was no applause or congratulations. No one thanked her or praised her. No one noticed a thing. Like a leaf falling from a tree, she just let go. There was no effort. There was no struggle. It wasn’t good. It wasn’t bad. It was what it was and it is just that.

In the space of letting go, she let it be. A small smile came over her face. A light breeze blew through her. And the sun and the moon shone for evermore.

Discard and Gather

Discard and Gather

When we are born we learn to gather.

We gather mother's milk, her love...every one's love.

We gather language, expressions, understanding.

Muscle tone, movement, balance, control.  

Emotions are the hardest and take the longest. 

As parents, we hope to help our children understand and manage them.

What a job that is...

Emotions will always be with us, and govern us. 

How we control them is how we earn our wings in life right?

Learning to understand another human is integral; yet one of our hardest lessons.

When you learn to understand and accept another human being - as-is -

That is when you understand everything else in the world.

Acceptance, not judgment. 

That is what we were put here to do. 

We learn to discard other's opinions.

Those who wish us nothing more than hurt

The simple misuse of human or animal affinity.

Or easily the apathetic human nature stored deep inside all of us.

You grow and learn and accept.

There is never a moment that isn't a lesson.

Take from others and obstacles what is best. 

Discard what wasn't good. 

It wasn't meant for you anyway.

So many people argue; so many postulate, so many mindsets. 

Where is the concession?

I want to admit something...

You think I am talking about the world in general?

No, I am asking personally. 

When you find yourself with little to gather, 

When do you allow yourself to discard?

Where is earthwork in your garden that separates the growth from the walkway?

Some choose to, or are taught to - directly or indirectly, 

to allow some sort of detached control.

These long suffering wounds are free to fester.

The damage, of which, disseminates everything within reach.

Misery does seek company. 

As does insufficiency.

As with any disease, you must learn to identify indications.

Where did it begin? How did it spread?

If it rooted in your own infrastructure, you must face it.

Accept it and heal it. 

From your heart to your mind. 

If outside of that, you find counter-agents and or medicament's to heal.

You can't blame it on the okra growing happily beside it. 

Or the spirited little weed that sprouted alongside. 

You look directly at the issue that is apparent.

That is what you repair.

It is the only way others will be able to gather your goodness. 

And be able to discard what isn't. 

I walk the garden of my life every single day. 

I gather the fruit of which is viable,

And satisfying.

I am learning to discard what is not.

To discard what is afflicted and irreparable.. 

Then, and only then, can the bountifulness of life 

fall into your basket.

Driving With My Mom

I dreamed last night that I was riding in the car with my mom 

as the adult I am today. 

She reached over and put her arm on mine

 and I couldn't help but notice how unusual it felt 

but in my dream I couldn't understand why. 

As we drove, we didn't speak but it was a comfortable silence. 

One where you hear the wind along the car, 

you can smell the grass because the windows are down, 

you feel the sun on your arm and face. 

During the ride I closed my eyes and could see four small journals. 

They were mine.

Four different pastel colors with writing all over them. 

My stories, my life. 

Without words she wanted me to know that she had read them. 

That she had been a part of them. 

That she was there. 

It was a conscious dream. 

One where I knew I was dreaming 

Yet I knew it was real. 

And it was. 

And she is. 

And that makes me so very happy. 

When Is It Okay To Be Me?

If you ask me how many lives I've lived I couldn't exactly tell you. There are so many.
I've lived the childhood of great adventure.
And the one of immense hurt.
I have been a teenager and done all of those teenage things.
Yet I grew up rather quickly. Maybe I was always older...
My early twenties presented me with death and love.
Both brought their own lessons.
I learned that I could feel more deeply and believe what my heart lead to
I also learned that I could lose what I loved the most in the world
And to not take things for granted.
My thirties brought children and true love was discovered.
Nothing ever rocked my world stronger than the two little girls God put me in charge of...
Yet nothing could ever have prepared me for the heartache it takes to mother those two.
I love them. I dislike them. I am not sure I am doing things right. Yet I know I will not stop being their mom. That is my purpose in life.
Now into my forties I wonder - my kids are turning out okay. They have issues and please school me on any who do not. I have issues and I work them out with several outlets of help because...motheringisfuckinghard.
I have also discovered that I just might want a change of life. You know, the kind that makes you, well you.
I am a nomad. I like quiet. I want silence.I want to be the substance in my girls lives. I want to teach them to be strong, smart, independent, motivated, confident, and self-reliant.
Now - in order to do that I must be that. Isn't it time to finally be me?
The me that I have wanted for so long yet put off.
For what?
Why?
I won't make excuses or reason. I will simply say, I have worked far too hard to make my family into what it is right now. I won't quit being strong for them.
I just wonder, when is it okay to be me?

Importance

I know it's late and I know what you think...
Why the fuck is this chick up so late?

1. I seriously ADORE a thunderstorm. That in itself would keep me awake simply to hear the rain fall and feel Mother Nature's power.
2. Thunderstorms are excellent for introspection and y'all  know I'm full of that shit. 😳
3. Thunder almost echoes my inner voice. I wish you would listen.
4. Happiness isn't something that you search for and find, nor is it something that just is. You are able to find it, lose it, find it again over and over during your lifetime. Make sure that if you are "in" it right now that the other person, you, or the universe is aware. It can change quickly or very slowly. Both can be incredibly sad.
5. If you, on the other hand, find joy in any given moment,celebrate that shit right this second. Say it, pray it, sing it out loud. The person who needs to hear it will. Even if it's you.
6. Life makes you sad. It can and will pull you down pretending it is not as bad as you think. But that's not really life is it? Life is lifting; it reminds you all the time that you are special and you presence here is meant to be. You are important and no matter how long or how short, life is on your side. And you matter in every way.
7. I could have become a preacher of sorts (ha ha!) but instead I write. I realize it isn't always rainbows and sunshine but I'm not either.
Are any of us?
I hope its okay with you because I really need to write. Writing is my scripture, my testimony. I really need to share my feelings - good, bad, sad, or introspective. It's the only way I feel important, heard, and human.
Because being heard and/or understood is so important.

I sure hope you can hear me.

Real life?

How do you ever know, through the wind and rain, that sunlight will meet you on the other side?
You don't.
You appreciate what nature offers forth..
Then you decide what to take with you and what you leave behind.
I suppose that is day to day life isnt it?

Or the entirety of life.

Far Far - Yael Naim

Mask

Maia Kirchkheli

I wear a mask.
All day.
Every day.

There are different sides.
One is who you want me to be but also who I want to be.
The other is who you don't know and are afraid of - as am I.

They reveal themselves; at times, simultaneously.
How would you recognize me?
How do I recognize myself?

The carefree side I love the most; she understands who I wish to be.
The discomfiture feeds the depths of what isn't whole.
I both love it and loathe it.

The mask serves its purpose yet fails at times.
I scream behind it hoping you, someone, anyone will hear.
At times I am silent and accept. And observe.

I see more than you know. The roots of the mask are deep.
I notice what you don't; yet I feign ignorance.
Because mirrors aren't always welcome if someone is holding it.

Nor are they always welcome upon your own inspection.
Not because you scrutinize the physical, but rather you dive into the depths.
The cold dark drowning depths that haunt you.

The mask holds both light and dark.
You see predominately what I want you to see.
But there are days or moments when I am unsure of who I am.

Those days, the mask governs it's showing. I do not.
I can only let what it reveals lead the moment.
I don't know who you see.

Most of my days are this.
If I can't be my own true self, how do you know me?
How do you know who Rachelle really is?

An affliction that troubles me at any given moment.
At every given moment.

“No man, for any considerable period, can wear one face to himself and another to the multitude, without finally getting bewildered as to which may be the true.” 
― Nathaniel Hawthorne

Peripheral

Most eyes see superficially.
Selfishly.
As long as the sight is reticent of personal acceptance.
Vainglorious.
The sights that favor your opinion are lighted with softened hues.
Self-admiration and muted colors are hung throughout your mind.

The cloudless grey dons on your walls.
A sad peeling paint flakes with every touch.
The bareness revealed as each flake dusts the floor.
They stir long laden dust like smog at sunset.
Each step wades deeper and deeper.
Until you are no longer able to breathe pure air.

How it must feel to move through life that way.
Suffocated.
Somehow you are unable to recognize the sepia.
Antipathetic.
Your sun doesn't drip from leaves after rain.
The acidity slowly dissolves all color.

Peripheral

Those eyes that see consonance.
Benevolent.
What they see are consummate acceptance.
Altruistic.
The sights that favor acceptance are lighted with wondrous hues.
Humanitarian and vibrant colors are hung throughout your mind.

The reverberating aquamarine dons your walls.
A soft yellow brightens with every touch.
The loveliness revealed as each sun ray caresses the floor.
Stirring up tiny luminous fairies to float around your thoughts.
Each step feels lighter and lighter.
Until you are only able to breathe pure air.

How it must feel to move through life this way.
Liberated.
You easily notice the omniscient spectrum.
Empathetic.
Sunlight bathes your surroundings in diamonds after a rain.
The colors slowly efflorescent the darkness in your heart

Intrinsic.

Time

There is time.
In every direction we turn, time will meet our gaze.
With every decision we make, time will tell..

You find a voice and you speak.
A thought may begin a revolution.
A sunrise just might spark a return.

The song you hear just when you need to.
The lyrics hit you within such an internal hurt.
You say nothing because the pain is too much.
The words you want to hear simply echo out of reach.

When your life is on the line, why do you stay silent?
Why do you spit hateful words?
You know you want what could be yours.
You know you want to love us.

A spirit mocks you. The demon speaks for you.
The face you see in the mirror is not yours.
The drink in your hand does not hold your life.
It only holds heartbreak.

Sing your song elsewhere. Sing for what you need.
Otherwise you only find a common factor.
The habitual anticlimax that is your word.
The perpetual affirmation that I am good enough.
 Are you?
Am I?

Perhaps I am not meant to be in this moment.
Maybe I am the thing you wanted but you forgot to hold on to.
Maybe you are the thing I wanted but I can't seem to see I have already have.
People grow - sometimes together, sometimes apart.

All people change. All people find themselves as strangers.
Whether to themselves or with others.
Whom do you choose?
Who makes the cut? Do you feel you can?

What would happen if we both make the cut?
What if we decide that we truly love each other and no one else matters?
Can you do that?
Can you show me that you love me?

Still?

Do You?

Thoughts run through my mind and long to fill pages.
I need words like others need air.
Days go by yet words aren't written.
Failure to create is like withered breath.
Expression is daunting.
It is revealing.
It warrants your time.
Do I continue?
Do you want to hear me?

Darkness and Light

The world is wonder and light,

Though with its share of dark.

We see what we want to see.

I'm trying, no struggling to focus

On all that is lovely.

That dark though, it's a heavy weight.

I carry it like a sinker on a line.

How I pray that I notice the sun.

And all of the beauty it enlightens.

Every day.

And even in the night,

I pray the moon helps me remember 

That there is constant light,

that I am not drowning and

I can always surface 

and breathe in life 

whenever I need it...

A Good Place

Sometimes in life you find yourself in a place where you feel torn.
A place that you want yet you shouldn't...according to others who know best.
They say paths should always go one way and you shouldn't stray should you find trouble.
I have never followed that path. Even as a child; shown a trusted path in shared faith I questioned.
How could one way be the right way when so many others took a different path?
How could one ideal blanket all the others as correct?
And now? How can two people so different be made to say we should remain as we were 20 years prior?
People change. Faiths change. Beliefs change.
All of this is okay.
We should never apologize for changing nor should we apologize for who we are.
We are brought into life and we bring life into the world.
Never should we state how those we love or others should believe/feel/live.
Ever. Let them find their way.
Your God has made this possible right?

Life gets hard as do relationships. Some survive, others do not.
We make things work or we don't.
We accept others or we don't.
Choosing to change others rather than change our own thoughts.
Acceptance is how life becomes difficult.
Choosing to blame others for what you are guilty of rather than looking in the mirror is how things fail.

I have things that I don't feel like I can or should share, though I desperately want to.
Who would understand?
Who feels what you feel?
How could they?
Yet you have one who does.
Hang on to that person with all of your might.
They keep you on Earth and make you feel heard.
Whether a lover or a friend - hang on.

I found that if you reach for those who have been there and known you the best; they will reach back. With open arms They will hear you and accept you.
After all, isn't that the VERY thing you've always wanted?
To be heard and accepted?
That is what love is right? Accepted?

That is a good place isn't it?
To be heard, accepted, and loved?
Even if that means it is you alone?
That is where your good place begins isn't it?

What should

I have read and heard an exorbitant amount of stories regarding abuse of animals, children, and the elderly. It fertilizes the soil of dislike I have for humankind. For those who could, will, have, and continue to harm innocent life assures me we are headed into our own degeneracy. It saddens me that the loss of solicitude and kindness is ever-growing.

Our light should shine on every living thing. Experiences, loss, betrayal, hardship, pain - those are not things to be blanketed onto others just because we have been exercised in their lots.

The innocent are just as they should be. True to us, true themselves, and true to our world.

I can't explain the how deeply the pain descends upon every awareness of every single infliction of pain on what should be a gifted lightness and love.

Where I Am

I have done a good bit of thinking. So much so, that I’ve stopped going to the gym, gained weight, lost motivation, binged on a shitload of TV, and gathered a fair amount of bitterness. I don’t like it. In fact, it fucking pisses me off.
I am angry at myself and I get angry sometimes just looking at someone else. I don’t like being angry nor do I like the darkness that has grown inside. I. get. on. my. own. nerves. I can’t do anything but giggle and cry at that.
There are excuses for everything and I am an excellent user. The things I strategize in my head...”I will do this in this way, make this happen like this, work through this by meeting small goals, etc”. The simple fact is, shit doesn’t get done.
I ask myself often: Who are you? What do you want? What makes you happy? Where is your passion? See, I am good at a lot of things. I can write, cook, make jewelry, create things, mother, work; BUT I am not at all excellent at one thing.
Most people have their “thing”. They’ve known their thing since they were 3 years old. Chefs have known since toddlerhood that cooking exhilarates them. Musicians began playing at 18 months and never stopped. Scientists were studying things at 2, developing new inventions, curing bad things, discovering unknown species, or understanding with ease a once unsolved mystery. What about those people who completely turn their lives around because of a seemingly menial moment? The ones who overcame their emotional despair due to one comment from another (awful) human. I envy these people. I feel like my life has been mediocre and untapped. Did I miss my moment? The one where I was supposed to find why I was put on this Earth? I’m 44, time is kind of running out. I don’t want to look back and see mediocre. I don’t want to see an overweight, unhealthy, slightly sad, so-so kind of woman. I want to see something remarkable. It was a word used in an obit I read. This man was the father of one of our patients who lived to be 103, very well lived and loved by all.
The thing is, there has been something inside of me that has always felt a little different, wilder, freer, bound for something more. She is in there. I just don’t know quite how to switch skins. The skin I wear now was developed from fears, sadness, judgment, doubt, anger, and worrying about what others thought of me. I’m tired of this skin, so very tired. I want that gypsy skin. The face that shines on life, opens her arms to all, walks lightly through each day, and touches others by simply being.
It is so easy to say “I’m going to let go of my doubt, throw out the baggage, live my life this way”. It is much, much harder to actualize. I have a doctor, a counselor, a psychiatrist, a gym membership, and a pretty quick mind. WTF is so hard? I’ve gone for so long worrying about other’s thoughts of me that I’ve lost myself in their feelings. I wear their skin...not mine.
This brings me back to where I am.
Right now is the only moment I have. I won’t ever have this right now again. So, because I am good at keeping a task list at work and marking things off, I am composing a task list for my life.
1. Be - unabashedly me. If that means I cuss like a sailor because it makes me feel good, write things that may offend people, do things that I am judged for, laugh at things that aren’t appropriate, remain silent when someone wants me to say what they want, or say the exact thing that I want when others want me to be silent. I am not the kind of person to hurt or offend on purpose, rather I want to be me and whether you accept me is up to you. I know in my heart I am a good person. I know your skin no longer fits me and I would hope that you like me better in my own. If not, I’ve given up caring.
2. Speak up - if you put me in a bad light just so it doesn’t get shown on you, I will shut that shit off. Mind you, I won’t be angry nor will I bear resentment. You just won’t get to make me your shadow. If you feel the need to make me the bad guy just because you won’t look in the mirror, I will wave goodbye and not look back. I won’t beg nor will I change just for you. I will simply walk a new less worn path. If you look at me through someone else’s descriptions, I will notice. I won’t try to change your mind nor will I want to. If you look at the world and others that way, I don’t really want you in mine. No anger, no judgment, no resentment. Just not needed.
3. Learn - if I feel like I am mediocre in something that makes me happy, I vow to learn more so I can become better. If I feel a change is due, I will make the effort to learn so the transition is successful. Even if that means I have to leave behind so I can find what I need.
4. Feel - I will not apologize for who I am or how I am. Understand, I have no malintent (my word) towards humankind. I am emotional and sensitive. I cry when I’m angry, sad, happy, worried, etc. It. Is. Who. I. Am. It doesn’t make me irrational or incapable. In fact, I dare say it makes me much more perceptive and understanding. To me, this is a better characteristic than using nothing more than muscle to move up some ridiculous life ladder that was created out of greed and conceit.
5. Work - I will take care of me. I’ve come to learn the only way to care for anyone or anything else is to be well yourself. My body is my own. It is meant to move, dance out in the open, swim in open water, run with my children, hike through mountains, walk down side streets, be pushed a little further. The work I put into making myself healthy will flow into the work I do for others.
6. Relax - I will not be too hurried, too distracted, or too impatient not to notice the little things. Life is, after all, made of the little things. Those are what you will remember when you look back. They are what holds all of the meaning. I don’t want to miss them. I will if I keep running though life holding on to other’s ideals and loading my shoulders with the weight of their skin. As Ayn Rand says: “If you saw Atlas, the giant who holds the world on his shoulders, if you saw that he stood, blood running down his chest, his knees buckling, his arms trembling but still trying to hold the world aloft with the last of his strength, and the greater his effort the heavier the world bore down upon his shoulders - What would you tell him?" I…don't know. What…could he do? What would you tell him?" To shrug.”

I’m shrugging.