A Meme

What is your current obsession?

Flowers ~ and taking macro shots of them ~ a la Georgia O'Keefe.

What is your wierdest obsession?

At one time I used to collect all the hair from my white afghan hound ... I'd instructed his groomer to save all the hair from grooming sessions because one day I planned to have the hair processed/spun into wool and then knitted into some sort of scarf or whatever. 

What are you wearing today?

A ecru-coloured cotton short-sleeved top, yoga-style capri pants, white socks and whte sneakers. My feet are hot. I'm going to take off my socks and shoes. Bare feet, all the way!

What's for dinner?

A glass of Coca Cola and I dunno what else. I am an eccentric eater, I often take dinner quite late or sometimes not at all.

What would you eat for your last meal?

Deep-fried brie and cranberry sauce ... those biscuits from Red Lobster with Beef Tenderloin cooked medium and a peppercorn gravy/sauce and horseradish and mashed potatoes with nutmeg and a caesar salad sans croutons ... a shot of sambuca and a piece of warm chocolate cake, drizzled with hot chocolate sauce and two scoops of real vanilla ice cream.

What is the last thing you bought?

Some cool postcards designed with my own photographs from QOOP.

What are you listening to right now?

The song of starlings, echoes from the upstairs neighbour's no-so-tasteful music choices, the swoosh of the tower fan in the bedroom, the creak of the ceiling as the upstairs neighbours walk around. My cat playing with her bell toy.

If you could have a house totally paid for, fully furnished, anywhere in the world, where would you like it to be?

In Italy, in some Tuscan village. 

If you could go anywhere in the world for the next hour, where would you go?

To the top of the Rock of Gibraltar to see the Barbery Apes.

What language do you want to learn?

The language of the human heart and soul.

What's your favorite quote (for now)?

"On your bike."

What is your favourite colour?

Cotton Candy, Strawberry Milkshare, Bubblegum PINK!

What is your favourite piece of clothing in your own wardrobe? 

Do my comfy old rabbit-fur lined mocassin slippers count? Cos that's what my favourite is.

What is your dream job?

1. Head Designer of my own Graphic Design Firm; 2. Self-sustaining independent Photographer, (Web) Designer; 3. A published fiction author.

What your favourite tree?

Japanese Cherry Tree ~ any variety ... particularly the Kanzan or Pink Perfection.

What are you going to do after this?

Have a steaming hot shower.

What inspires you?

Nature ~ particularly flowers and birds; Georgia O'Keefe; awesome photography; pink and purple sunsets; a certain Pilot.

What are your favourite books?

All time favourites ~ as a child it was a particular Cinderella book with the most beautiful art work in it; as an adult it's A Time Traveller's Wife.

What are you currently reading?

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society.

Go to your bookshelf, take down the first book with a red spine you see, turn to page 26 and type out the first sentence:

Enormously irritating to me and my torturers of course, but, you know, credit where credit's due and all that.
 

What delighted you the most today?

Receiving meatspace feedback from my photo notecards.

By what criteria do you judge a person?

1. Manners; 2. Honesty ~ ie do they keep their word; 3. Sense of timing ~ ie are they always late (grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr ~ HATE that!).

 Are you artistic or crafty?

 Yes and yes.

My added question: do you have an innie or an outtie (belly button)?

Innie.

The rules: Respond and rework: answer the questions on your blog, replace one question with a question of your own. Tag eight other people. And of course, as all tags go, you may choose to ignore this request. Play if you like.

The Beauty of Broken Things

 

Broken lines, 

couched in jagged curves;

a jetstream of white light,

a splash of grey shadow ~ 

all reflections of 

my monotonous heart.

She thirsts for you, 

feels parched in your absence.

Missing the fluid velvet

of your touch,

of your taste ~

reflecting, 

upon the beauty of broken things.

Photo Credit: DeviantArt

Poetry: Roxanne Galpin

The Matrix, Thomas Merton, and Cosmic Christ

I stumbled upon that movie The Matrix, while channel surfing after my three-hour night's sleep. I've seen it several times of course, but it's one of the few films I can watch again and again. Each time I do see it, I sense yet another facet of the incredible spiritual and philosophical metaphor of the story. Essentially the film depicts the planet earth in the late 22nd century, where Holocaust has come to describe the enslavement of humans by machines, who have invaded Earth to harvest human beings as energy sources. The machines keep humans, naked and sleeping, in gel-filled pods, which connects to them through tubes and hoses.

The vast majority of humans, however, remain  oblivious to the ugly truth, living instead within a virtual simulation of the late 20th century which the machines have created to oppress the people and keep them unaware. A few humans have become 'unplugged' and work toward liberating their race. They call themselves Zionists, and they await the prophesied coming of a chosen one ~ a man who can move through and transcend the matrix. Neo has always sensed something strange about the world he sees. He seeks to know the mysterious thing called the matrix. He finds out. He reacts with incredulity and disbelief when told he is the chosen one.

As I watched Neo's very traumatic awakening into the ugliness of the true world from the false reality of the matrix, and deliverance from his pod to the Zionist hovercraft,  I could not help thinking of the similarity to birth and death, as we know it. I pondered birth and death (both of which I have witnessed, by the way) and then, suddenly these seemed ~ on a cosmic plane ~ like the same transformation of a Self. You may disagree, because of your perception of birth as a gain, and death as a loss.

But, I'm not thinking of from the crude material perspective. I'm considering it from the cosmic, spiritual perspective.  Ponder, for a moment. Physical birth ~ arriving into this worldly existence by passing through tiny a visceral canal. And then death ~ I imagine it as travelling from this worldly existence by passing through a spiritual or cosmic canal. This only occurred to me when watching the visual of Neo's awakening. Did Neo's awakening mean his birth, or his death? Both, I believe.

At a later point in the film, Trinity (one of the Zionists) says to Neo, “the Matrix cannot tell you who you are.” Aha! That's a differentiation to make, isn't it? Do we feel satisfied sufficiently with the fact of our material existence? Don't we also need meaning to illuminate the painting of our existence? I pondered this question two years ago, in a post I wrote about The Matrix. However, just today, during this recent viewing, something resonated within me. Something that I felt when I read the following, which I received via email in today's daily meditation, written by Richard Rohr.

The historical figure, Jesus of Nazareth, moved beyond any confinement in space and time and became Light Itself, which we now know from astrophysics is omnipresent in the universe and its speed is the ultimate measure of all things. ... One could even say that in Christ, God and Light have become the same. And nobody on this earth can control the light. It goes where it goes— instantaneously. 

So, the Matrix, being the contrived, material world, cannot tell us 'who we are.' Then, perhaps we find out through the light of God? Does the flat, obscure and meaningless painting of our existence become transformed through Christ? Yes, because our true meaning of Self lies in the fact that God created each of us, for a purpose. In his book, New Seeds of Contemplation, Thomas Merton writes that faith provides a vehicle through which we can fully possess God, who fills us with His infinite Light. "God Himself becomes the Light of the darkened soul ... And at this inexplicable moment the deepest night becomes day ..." Merton also writes, "I must learn to 'leave myself' in order to find myself by yielding to the love of God." Death and birth point to the same transformative process, don't they?

[Photos taken by me, May 2009]

A Prayer For Us All

 

I used a picture taken by a dear friend of mine [who wishes to receive credit only as public domain] as the inspiration for this piece. This photo ~taken in Vancouver's Downtown East Side ~ really depicts a piece of graffiti with an wonderful sentiment. Keep us safe and sound. Made by me using GIMP, brushes courtesy of Obsidian Dawn. Click the image for full-size view.

New Moon in May

Image by ftourini [deviantART]

This month's new moon encourages us to transcend the fog of information, and its inherent conflicts, and to rise above the crumbling structures of present-day reality. As the unilluminated side of the moon faces earth, we find that we can derive different meanings from the stories occuring around us, depending on the lense through which we look. It's a good time to change our minds, to increase our mental flexibility, to liberate ourselves from our oppressive monkey minds. Stop thinking and just be!

If we focus on balance, on synchronicity, and on the human element we can reduce or eliminate our anxiety about not knowing what will happen next. This month, focus on rising above the minutia of daily material existence, toward the person, toward dignity, toward compassion. Free yourself from stuff-ism, from sinking into the small stuff, and/or from judgement: by giving, by sharing, by understanding ~ through gratitude and humility.

Fears ~ What are they?

Photo taken by me in SW England, 2008

False
Expectations
Appear
Real

• The underlying foundations of a weak self-image and self-concept ~ they keep us from fully asserting ourselves, and hinder our quest of self-actualization.
• Inhibitors, emotional blocks, unconscious messages, uncovered elements of our psychological make up ~ they result in our resistance, hesitation and/or unwillingness to participate in nurturing and healing activities.
• Excuses we hide behind to avoid growth or change
• Irrational beliefs
• Negative self-scripts we have given ourselves or that were given  us about how we will suffer dire consequences if we involve ourselves in certain activities or behaviours.
  

Fears have plagued me, of late. Silly, ridiculous fears which create inertia and stagnation. So much opportunity lies at my feet, I just need to grab hold and plant myself there! But there's that old fear of crossing that bridge which spans the ravine. I have tried to tell myself every excuse why I should refrain from reinstating my RN license ... and return to work part-time in my beloved profession. None of these excuses stands up under scrutiny. I have skill, I have passion and patience. I know that I was a great nurse, and can be that again. You can take the girl out of the nurse, but you can't take the nurse out of the girl. I have heard whispers of the universe telling me to take that leap, swallow the fear, embrace opportunity and growth.

And, so I will take heed.

"Nothing in life is to be feared. It is only to be understood."

~Marie Curie

**Note to Readers ~ On a topic entirely unrelated to this post ... Please take the time to visit my friend Mayden's Blog and read her latest post. It's beautiful and divinely written.**

Your Assignment by Clarissa Pinkola Estes

I assign you to be a beautiful, good, kind, awakened, soulful person, a true work of art as we say, ser humano, a true human being. In a world filled with so much darkness, such a soul shines like gold; can be seen from a far distance; is dramatically different.

Want to help? Show your deepest most divine self to the world. There is nothing more rare, more strange, more needed. Why would you wait? Not worthy? Oh piffle. Not ready? Okay, so when? Next lifetime? Don't be silly with me about this. Inferiority complex? Okay, let me put it this way to you: you're not good enough to think you're not good enough. And you can
quote me to yourself whenever you have need... Dr. Estes said so.

Have you forgotten that you made promises to your Beloved before you ever came to earth? The time to fulfill these is truly now. You want to cease feeling helpless, and you want to help the aching world? Serve someone and something. Everyone on earth serves someone and something. This means being your truest self now, fulfilling the promises you made to heaven long ago.

Anything you do from the soulful self will help lighten the burdens of the world. Anything. You have no idea what the smallest word, the tiniest generosity can cause to be set in motion. Be outrageous in forgiving. Be dramatic in reconciling. Mistakes? Back up and make them as right as you can, then move on. Be off the charts in kindness. In whatever you are called to, strive to be devoted to it in all aspects large and small. Fall short? Try again. Mastery is made in increments, not in leaps. Be brave, be fierce, be visionary. Mend the parts of the world that are "within your reach." To strive to live this way is the most dramatic gift you can ever give to the world.

Consider yourselves assigned.


The restless uneasiness in my heart dissipated when I read this passage, which I found while  blog surfing. It applies every moment. It's what I need, in order to survive and thrive the monumental changes that loom in my not-too-distance future.

Wishcasting Wednesday ~ Wishes for my Higher Self

This week's Wish Prompt ~ What does your highest self wish for?

My highest self wishes to express itself more fully.

It wishes to follow the light, and transcend my ego. 

It wishes to continue capturing and sharing 

the joy and beauty of the world around me. 

It wishes to completely embrace forgiveness and tolerance. 

It wishes to embrace patience more fully. 

My higher self wishes to share with others knowledge and compassion, 

empowerment and healing.

Photo ~ taken by me, grounds of VAG

Anger and the Art of Healing

Acceptance begins with acceptance of the feelings of grief. That means letting them flow through you ~ finding the resolve to make your cross lighter to carry. ... Dig underneath. Go gently, but do go deeper. What's there? Where does it belong?

In response to a previous post on depression and healing, Blisschick commented, I think that it's important that we allow our anger, though, especially at the beginning of healing. Yes, we must acknowledge anger. But, we must take care what we do with this anger. Thoughts of revenge, restitution, or desires to spread the misery serve no purpose, and in fact poison our healing quest. Acting out of anger, making decisions rooted in anger, projecting your anger onto others all thwart the healing process, which aims at restoring equilibrium.

I struggled terribly against becoming my emotions. Anger, included. At the height of my anger, I would feel alomst possessed by it. Revenge became a form of emotional self-gratification for me. As though deliberately bring suffering unto someone else would reduce or eliminate my own! When I began accepting that the particular offense occured, and that stewing about it would not advance my emotional cause, anger no longer possessed me.

Providing no resistance to the feeling flowing through me ~ observing it, only ~ also made a huge difference. I find I get angry far less now, that I make a point of trying to consider the offending situation from all perspectives, ie beyond my own. This removes the inclination to judge or lay blame. It turns the focus back to me ~ What's there? Where does it belong?

Two internal actions that I engage in, to avoid becoming my intense anger or grief:
1. Acceptance of reality ~ ie the end of a relationship, death, abuse. Placing focus on responding to the new reality, as opposed to its existence.
2. Taking on only the emotional baggage that belongs to me ~ ie. if one family member chooses against attending a family gathering because of my presence, well, that's their problem, not mine.

Nothing but compassionate attention and time can alleviate the pain of anger. And humility ~ which enables us to accept, and remember that what we think we want does not always provide us what we need.

Victoria Day and Thoughts of Love

My English Mosaic ~ all pictures taken by me in SW England last year

It's Victoria Day here in Canada. Since England has dominated my thoughts of late, it seems appropriate to share some of the photographs I took there, last year. It's a lovely place ~ picturesque, with lots of character and history. Someone I love dearly lives there, and I hope to return--.

“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I will meet you there.”

 “One day You will take my heart completely and make it more fiery than a dragon. Your eyelashes will write on my heart the poem that could never come from the pen of a poet.”

~Rumi



Enjoy your week. I will continue writing about depression, because I have far more to add to my previous post. Writing 50-word stories has absorbed much of my attention of late. Check them out ~ they have their own blog, link to which appears at the top of this page.

Depression and the Art of Healing

What does depression feel like? 
Years ago, when I asked my sister, who's suffered depression episodes that sent her to the crisis unit, what depression felt like to her, she answered, It feels like I'm in the pits of hell. To me, it doesn't feel like I'm in the pits of hell, it feels like I am the pits of hell. The grief demon possesses me, I become his prisoner. At some point, destroying myself seems like a way to survive the anguish. In a nutshell, that's my experience of depression.

Now, let's move on. Think about healing.

What does healing look and feel like? How do we achieve it?

Healing is not a process through which we seek validation or approval for our grief. It's not what we do to make ourselves feel better about feeling lousy. It's about attending to the grief and loss we feel ~ embracing it. Never mind if its right or wrong to feel what you feel. Just feel. And have compassion and patience with yourself as you stay present with your feelings.

Pain occurs to alert us to some sort of disequilibrium. It's meant to spur us to seek healing. Healing requires me to change my perspective, to engage. I'm not a shattered glass that requires piecing together. I am a walking wounded, in need of emotional and spiritual debridement. I must debride my wounds, the scar tissue of which, stifles and starves my growth and renewal. Things have happened to me to get me to this point, and so I must happen to things in order to forge ahead into the light.

Healing teaches us why we feel the way we do, and we learn healthy responses to those feelings that help us restore equilibrium. Resisting pain increases its intensity. Think of the skier tumbling down the slope ~ using muscle tension to resist the fall increases the severity of injuries sustained in said fall. Acceptance begins with acceptance of the feelings of grief. That means letting them flow through you ~ finding the resolve to make your cross lighter to carry.

At this point it has nothing to do with who or what gave you this cross, or with any notion of restitution for your suffering. It has only to do with self care ~ what must you do to remain present to your grief without feeling swallowed whole? Don't deny yourself. Be kind to yourself. Don't pity yourself. Feel. Be. Stay. You are your most crucial witness. Do not spread your misery around for self-gratification. Remember debridement ~ we must remove necrotic tissue from the wound, or the limb will eventually die from ischemia. Despair must never triumph! Find grace. Be grace.

Dig underneath. Go gently, but do go deeper. What's there? Where does it belong?

Winged Night Hope

**FYI ~ I moved all of the 50-word story posts to their own blog.**

Winged night flight,

breath-taking and bold.

I shiver, in the darkness,

witness 

to a preternatural sight,

shimmering, 

in the light of 

a gilded harvest moon. 

A golden gossamer dream

sweeps swiftly

across an indigo sky;

Gripping hope

in her tightly curled talons.

Wishcasting Wednesday ~ Wishes for Connection

This week's Wish Prompt ~ What do You Wish to Connect to?

I wish to connect to my Self, in my quest to just BE.
I wish to connect to what lurks within my heart, beneath the cobwebs of apprehension and doubt.
I wish to connect to my surroundings through my daily photography project.
I wish to connect to bliss, to humility and to forgiveness.
I wish to connect to humanity ~ to the collective human soul and spirit.
I wish to connect to the creative endeavours which I've begun.

I wish to connect to discipline, particularly in times of chaos and vulnerability.
I wish to connect to my parents, in ways I've yet to connect. As they age, I find myself reaching more and more for a connection with them that will transcend the finite, physical world.
I wish to connect more with Mum & Dad on the phone ~ I do miss my long talks with mummy.
I wish to continue my wonderful connection with my cat, Miss Meow. She's truly a healer for my spirit.
I wish ~ my heart wishes ~ to connect to the heart of a certain Pilot.
I wish to connect more fully to my marriage, and the partner with which I share this marriage skin.

[PSSSsst ~ I've started a 50-word story blog]

Guardian of The Threshold ~ Invitation to Poetry # 35

Every so often, Abbey of the Arts hosts a poetry invitation. She posts a picture and a theme and invites anyone to respond with poems, reflections, prose. Check the icon for more info. Read my submission below.

~ Note: I've chosen another picture, rather than use the picture Christine provided in her 35th poetry invitation. ~

Broken dreams of my ego

lay strewn at her feet ~

heaps of salt in the desert.

Full Moon Dreamers ~ May Flower Moon

Full Moon Dreamboards ~ a creative way to express what we wish to manifest in a particular month. Each month has a name, a this becomes the theme or inspiration for the dreamboard. For more on Full Moon Dreamboards, visit Jamie's site.

Full Flower Moon ~ May ~ The abundance of flowers at this time of year inspired the name for this moon, also know as the Full Milk Moon or the Full Corn Planting Moon.

This month Jamie asks us,  "What seeds will you plant this month? What do you want to bloom, with this flower moon?" 

I spotted May's full moon late Friday night. It hung in the sky, between the trees, like a silvery orb. As I stood in my driveway, in front of my tripod and gazing at the moon through my camera's lense, I could just feel her vibrant energy.

She did indeed appear to blossom in the night sky, casting a lovely glow on the blossom petals which carpeted the earth. In the distance, I spot a sea of blossom petals on the ground; each petal, a droplet which nature has released to make way for the sweet fruits of summer.

I wish to cultivate more compassion and grace in my heart.
I wish to capture the magic and flavour of each moment, the serenity and spirit of my surroundings, the colour and character of each day and bottle these for later use.
I wish to nurture and grow the seeds of inspiration that have germinated inside me.
I wish for my current creative endeavours to continue bearing fruit.
I wish for love, patience, acceptance, grace and humility to blossom within my heart and soul.

... I Shall Drink it and Always Be Full

Once upon a midnight drearie
I woke with something in my head
I couldn't escape the memory
Of a phone call and of what you said
Like a game show contestant with a parting gift
I could not believe my eyes
When I saw through the voice of a trusted friend
Who needs to humour me and tell me lies
Yeah humour me and tell me lies
And I'll lie too and say I don't mind
And as we seek so shall we find
And when you're feeling open I'll still be here
But not without a certain degree of fear
Of what will be with you and me
I still can see things hopefully

[refrain]
But you
Why you wanna give me a run-around
Is it a sure-fire way to speed things up
When all it does is slow me down

And shake me and my confidence
About a great many things
But I've been there I can see it cower
Like a nervous magician waiting in the wings
Of a bad play where the heroes are right
And nobody thinks or expects too much
And Hollywood's calling for the movie rights
Singing hey babe let's keep in touch
Hey baby let's keep in touch
But I want more than a touch I want you to reach me
And show me all the things no one else can see
So what you feel becomes mine as well
And soon if we're lucky we'd be unable to tell
What's yours and mine the fishing's fine
And it doesn't have to rhyme so don't you feed me a line

[refrain]

Tra la la la la bomba dear this is the pilot speaking
And I've got some news for you
It seems my ship still stands no matter what you drop
And there ain't a whole lot that you can do
Oh sure the banner may be torn and the wind's gotten colder
Perhaps I've grown a little cynical
But I know no matter what the waitress brings
I shall drink in and always be full
My cup shall always be full

Oh I like coffee
And I like tea
I'd like to be able to enter a final plea
I still got this dream that you just can't shake
I love you to the point you can no longer take
Well all right okay
So be that way
I hope and pray
That there's something left to say

[refrain] x 2

~ Blues Traveller

AHHHH ~ Classical Gas

~take a listen to an awesome piece of music!~

<

Requiem for a Sunflower

Withered, weary

leaves begin melting

into autumn's embrace;

shoulders drooped,

heavy head now stooped,

she releases her petals,

they descend ~ floating 

 above an icy morning mist.

Her seeds extricate themselves

from their cloister.

Her crumpled and golden chalice,

now fully emptied.

Oh, poverty, what bliss!

photo: Christine Valter Paintner

poetry: Roxanne Galpin

On Being Roxanne

I have 465 published posts in this blog. These posts date back to January 2006, when I first began blogging. Those who have stuck with me since those early days will know what a restless creature I am, in trying to forge my Self. I started out as graffitti artist, then became whispering forest nymph, then mad malva blue, then velvet acid tongue or velvet acid explosion, then the pink reefer, then the red mantissa, then frizzy scissorhands, then wulfine, and now ... now I have come home. I am me ~ Roxanne Galpin, aka tinkerbell the bipolar faerie. I post my picture, my full name, and my geographic location. Why not? What have I to hide? Nothing, as in transparent. That's why I am home. No longer do I conjure up an image of some person that I wish I was. I can now just Be Roxanne. What bliss! My H-Factor rises.

One of my favourite bloggers from those early days left me this comment a few weeks ago ~ ”how come you keep reinventing yourself????????????? be content with one blog name; one avatar; one message!!!!” Well put, Ardlair. My response to him? “We are many.”

I have felt like an onion these past few years. Continuously peeling away a layer, only to find another one, obscuring this thing, this treasure, I seek. And so, I have expended much time and energy and effort peeling away a layer, existing within that layer for a time, and then peeling it back, and repeating the same cycle over again.

Each time, I’ve gotten closer to the truth. Each time, I’ve come closer to realizing the truth ~ ... Read the entire post.

[Cross-posted from H-Factor Chronicles.]

Rumpled Sheets

On the wings of veiled dreams 

I glide into a new day.

Sunlight, streams through

pregnant apple blossoms,

dancing.

Golden shafts of light
flutter upon

these rumpled sheets

that held us, 

together

through a stormy and ebony night ~

our amniotic sac,

the colour of golden wheat,

and scented with the sweet, earthiness

of life forged in eksatis.

Photo Credit: Christine Valters Paintner

Poetry Credit: Roxanne Galpin

Poetry Invitation # 34 :: Honouring the Gift of Earth

Every so often, Abbey of the Arts hosts a poetry invitation. She posts a picture and a theme and invites anyone to respond with poems, reflections, prose. Check the icon for more info. Read my submission below.

~ Note: I've chosen a picture of my own, rather than use the picture Christine provided in her 34th poetry invitation. ~

Fingerprints

Magnolia ~

She whispers in her silence,

beckons me, closer.

And I, in my darkness,

feel her light

wrap its arms around me.

Looking deep into her heart

I see a reflection

of deep wisdom.

Magnolia ~

She whispers in her silence,

I am but a fingerprint of God.

As are you.

Lovers ~ The Embrace

~I'm sick, again! Grrrrr. So here I go, once more, with the Vicks Vapo-Rub, my Ventolin rescuer inhaler, many hot, steamy showers, and more blankets. And, oh yeah, lots of juice to drink. I'm beginning work on my book. Hugs to you all.~

VIOLET

You surround yourself with art and music and are constantly driven to express yourself. You often daydream. You prefer honesty in your relationships and believe strongly in your personal morals.

Find out your color at QuizMeme.com!

[I found this little quiz while blog surfing; I love colour ... so had fun with this.]

What I'm Thinking, Reading Writing

On my Mind & Conscience ...
I've had a little period of silence, here on the Tea Party, My last real post, about BlissChick's 100-Day Dare, has weighed in my heart. Late last week, just thinking about making the particular change I had in mind when I wrote that post, made my heart a little sick. The many commenters to that post gave such encouragement, but I fear that I am weaker than any of you think. Alas, a work-in-progress am I. And, so I take the tiny steps, only considering the one I'm taking, and not the ones that lie ahead. [Assuming today is day 1, then day 100 happens on July 31st.] I've spent some time grieving someone who has estranged himself from me in many ways, but who contacts me from time to time. Just a little taste, to remind me of the sweet flavour, and then great famine for an unknown while.  On a more practical front, I have an appointment scheduled next week that may eventually lead me back work, part-time.

 

white blossom ~ DTES Vancouver

On the Bookshelf ... 
Thomas Merton continues to lead me into contemplation with and about God in New Seeds of Contemplation. I've continued to plod slowly, but surely, through Karen Armostrong's The Bible: A Biography. And, of course, Eckhart Tolle's Now sits nearby; I read Tolle in spurts, then take some time to digest what I've read. I also have Susan Haskin's Mary Magdalen: The Essential History in the pile, beckoning me to open it. And, once in a while I flip through the $5 used copy of C.S. Lewis' Mere Christianity, which sits on my nightstand, atop my dictionary-thesaurus and beside my lamp. I have read Thich Naht Hanh's book about true love, a really quick and easy read one Sunday afternoon. That same afternoon, I read a lovely book about angels, their history, presence in different cultures, and the angel hierarchy. The next fiction book I'll likely read is the second book in the Stephanie Meyers series.

white blossom ~ East Vancouver

On the Writing Table ...

I watched The Matrix again, and it inspired me to write yet another post about the metaphors and symbolism in that movie. I've nearly finished the post. I just had to leave it for awhile, before concluding it. I've written several poems lately, inspired by Abbey of the Arts' Poetry Invitations. I've so far only posted 2. I'll post more as the time seems right. I've been pondering and considering my book of late. Some stability has seized the waters of my life, leaving just enough friction to keep fueling creativity and endurance of that creativity. I have to start disciplining myself, schedule some time out of each week, each day, to work on the book. I suppose I have stalled a little because parts of the story felt too painful to relive just yet. Also, at times, I feel as though perhaps the story has not ended yet. In my heart.

mosaic heart ~ DTES Vancouver

Sacred Life Sunday ~ Gilded Freedom (a poem)

 

A crimson heart ~

sweet as nectar,

and a scarlet, burning ember

 too deep to fathom ~

love, pure, fresh love 

cleaves him to her.

He opens the gilded cage,

watching, awestruck

and with baited breath.

Apprehensive, her wings unfurl,

She flutters, then sails away

on the gentlest stream of 

a breeze.

Shimmering,

she returns 

to the gilded cage

and sees Him there,

waiting.

Her wings,

beating

in time with her heart.

Her heart,

beating

in time with His.

image credit: google, public domain

poetry: copyright Roxanne Galpin

Inspired by and dedicated to Martin, who showed me that I do have wings, that they can carry me, and that I can fly on my own. He showed me this through the anguish of his love, which gave him the strength to hold the cage open for me to fly out. Of course, I flew back into the cage to my husband, a man who understands that loving me requires giving me alot of space.

Encouraging Bliss:: Twilight Reflections

 It's the middle of the night. I'm sitting in bed, under the covers with my laptop. Somehow, the bed feels larger. Perhaps, that's because I feel much smaller, tonight, than I did this morning. Dear Reader, you cannot imagine how small I feel. My shame lingers in the spaces between words spoken; it stagnates, like the smell of something burning. I find it a challenge to examine my rather large and foolish error without judgement. Foolish ~ too harsh a word, maybe? Alternatives? Ill-Considered. Careless. Naive, even.

[Photo ~ taken on a sunny day here, in Vancouver a week ago]

It seems pointless to persecute myself. It seems purposeful and wise, though, to really take to heart and mind what I need to do, and gaze at it through the prism of wreckless, wanton desire (the force that fuels my error). I see, more clearly, the painful struggle one endures in the quest for Self ~ the self I think I want to be vs. the self God created me to be. The Wannabe seeks comfort by filling herself. The True Self seeks comfort in acceptance and through emptying herself.

I must begin to empty a particular falseness. Its a falseness that coats the Wannabe (entraps her, really) like a poisonous membrane. She must no longer fill herself with poison. She must purge. It feels like I must release my grip from the edge and fall freely away from the known precipice, toward the unknown, without fear or tension. When I let go, I will liberate myself. When I let go, my wings will carry me; I will feel such joy and peace ... and BLISS. Do I have the courage to follow the obscured and jagged trail that leads to the light?