In The Shadows

It's the whisper you aren't sure you heard in the quiet, steady undertone of one note, your solo. The one only we can hear, so low, like a moan. Words run parallel, filled with the dreams of the heart and visions of  love, life and beauty.  And me, playing for you a sweet melody divine. Sweet melody that is mine. Whisper in quiet undertones of one soft kiss. 

You know we will never be the same.

Here

In The Shadows

It's in the shadows, whispering, eloquent

Rasping shallow devout
Murky tender won
Harder than quarry stone
Relinquish illusion's elusive control
Deftly defiant
Worn and confused
I was thinking of you too
Battered by time
Lives redefined
So little left
I've fallen way behind

Her faith is in exploration
Expressions of self - found
Growing into the power of herself
A woman become
Tears filling her eyes
Tender in love defined by compassion
Feeling what he cannot feel himself - lonely
Alone in his darkened room - the room in his mind
How can she close the door
Walk away once more?
Freedom is a prison filled with doubt
She's leaving him behind - misgiving

Alone Separate Together
It's all the same
It's all jumbled up
Parts compounded

Here in the shadows, whispering, eloquent, rasping, shallow, divine.

It's In The Cards: LightCode Oracle

A Word About LightCode

LightCode is an invitation to open yourself 

to the more that you don't even know is there.

 

LightCode is a gift of attunemnt for your soul from your Spirit Team.

 

LightCode communicates with you beyond the known, 

familiar configurations of your linear mind. 

LightCode refreshes your connection to your 

InfiniteMind that is the Source of your intuitions.

Tune into your own Soul Knowing and feel the frequencies

 of the Universal Call to Love the Light that you are.

A Soul Healing Journey

Let's

Let's not make Small Talk. 

Let's Talk about Us.

Let's Talk about Love.

Let's Speak of Soul.

Let's talk from within the 

Depths of the Quiet Rooms 

where we've lived all these years 

that we've been apart.

Let's talk from Here

where we have ever resided together, 

side by side One with the Other. 

Let's not waste our precious Time

in the Layers of the Mundane but rather, 

Let's Risk Below and Delve

into the Spaces where the 

Faint of Heart dare not go. 

Let us speak of Dark Longing 

and the kind of Missing that 

Slays us Time and Time 

again across years of Dying. 

Let's strip away all the shit put upon us 

by Lifetimes of Letting Go.

Let's start with Feeling 

your Heart here in Mine, 

our Souls so entwined, 

ever inseparable, Divine. 

Let's go from there. 

Let's not make Small Talk. 

Let's Talk about Us. 

Let's have Courage and Speak without Words.

Let's Love from Soul and Generate Miracles.

Let's Lead from Soul 

and Embrace this Magic, 

Mystical Love Eternal.

Let's...

More On Surrender....

It turns me inside out and sparks of light splinter in shards outward from the within of me, shoot upwards into a showering array of refracted light exploding into Power accelerating exponentially in relation to the EnergyEmotion I feel and thus generate. And the visual of the Surrender and Acceptance is played out in a distant Energy plane, dark, starlit, unreal. And there is she and me face to face 20 paces apart. The image of form melts into the humming light of energy, gold and silver and white and orange and red and green and yellow and purple and blue, all into One. The flow spirals and swirls in musical rhythm of all notes, all sounds, no sound; and I understand DivinityInfinity, time less space, eternity divided by choices made individually and together for the greatest earth experience. All the light is all the power is gratitude for the roles we play and why we play them, with the hope of understanding in the midst of it all, hope to not remain blinded by inevitable pain incurred in the necessity of the lessons to be learned. To be courage; to reach more deeply for truths both profound and insightful; to expand beyond all previous configurations of Soul and Spirit, personalities refined by will and conviction and intuitions...

A Raccoon, The Dolphin Balloon & Dragon Talons

Any manner of configuration manifests indelicately here within the confines of words understood, likely, by nobody but me. It's just as it should be. Reconnoiter, reconstruction...raccoon. I didn't mean to hit the little bastard. Neither one of us saw it coming. That's what makes it an accident. Still. I lift mine spirit to thine spirit, oh Raccoon and I am aggrieved that your life ended, not by my hand, but by my tires or by my car's body slamming into your body. There was nothing either one of us could have done. Such a metaphor for all that's wrong.

One thing leads to the other. That's life....


And then, inexplicably, I managed to lock Ashlin in my car. She was all snuggled in her winter coat, in her car seat, ready to go. All she really cared about was getting her hands on the big, huge dolphin balloon that I had just gotten her to replace the little pink one that had floated up and away to meet the stars the night before. Hilary, thankfully, was still there. All's well, as the saying goes....but my tenuous sensibilites were already compromised. Roiling emotions colliding into one another...hot friction building, as it is meant to...designed to draw me inward, ever inward, to that place where the dialogue is muted, urgent...pay attention, pay attention, it whispers. All this is happening for a reason. Be wise. Be here now and understand it all as it unfolds. Hindsight isn't an option I am willing to embrace this time. Tapped in, tuned in....adjusting the frequency for a better reception of the Universal messages that prevail. I'm listening with more senses than the five most known. Perhaps more accutely. And I am still in recognition of being just slightly out of phase. I know it looks like I'm in a fog. I know it looks like I'm not doing well...but, as with so many such occurances...things are not as they appear.


Then....

I find Mom sitting at a table in the dining area of the nursing home where she is being kept safe and cared for. She looks up and her face is suffused with the pleasure of recognition and an array of emotions flit there as if across a screen in montage. I stand still, my face on a level with hers, eye to eye, allowing all the other senses to connect for though her mind may not be fully at her disposal, I know her Soul is. The moment passes and we move on into her room. There is a bustle of changing her, testing her blood sugar, administering her insulin and settling her onto her bed. We are then alone. I focus my attention on taking care of some of her personal needs, things for a daughter to do for a mother. She acquiesces in silence, compliant in docility so unlike the woman that I have called Mother for 47 years. While I carefully clip what have become dragon talon fingernails, we are mostly silent. I decide to gently ply her. "Do you know who I am?" She answers, "Yes, of course I do. You are Diane," her younger sister who has passed on. In the quieter nuances of expression, I sense that she knows that this is not right. "No," I whisper. "I am your youngest daughter, Heather." Her energy has shifted into an unknowing place where she seems to float, disconnected and vague. It's strange how such vibrant, strong willed, independent people can disappear into a black cavern in the mind. I switch sides so that I can clip the dragon talons on her left hand. Clip, clip, snip, snip, being so very careful to not hurt her in any way, I am very focused. We are very quiet. I wield an emory board across her nicely shortened nails as if I know what the fuck I'm doing; like I've done this before. I look up into her fading eyes. She looks back into mine. We just stare at each other but we do not speak. Then, "How's that?" I ask. "Oh, that's...that's just...." Her words fall off into an abyss I believe she's become all too familiar with. Then she smiles a small little smile and reaches up to kiss me. Then, she ever so gently touches my hair and says, "Your hair...it's so lovely...so beautiful." I feel this heinous lump rising from some unknown depths into my throat. I can hardly swallow. She has NEVER touched me with such tenderness. NEVER looked at me with tender affection such as this. I say, "Thank you. It was a gift from you and Daddy." Not missing a beat she queries, "Oh, he doesn't miss it, having given it to you?" I could laugh and cry at the same time but she clumsily wraps her arms around me again, kisses me.


The ALL that she conveys to me is done in the language of the Soul, in energy, synergy and the belief that we are so much more than these physical bodies. And though most of my childhood, most of my adult relationship with my mother has been unadulterated SHITE...though we have battled for boundaries and fought for what we believed in, there has never been a doubt that some form of love is vollied between us. It's been a working relationship....one we've been working on for years. The things I've learned from my mother are not things consciously taught, but rather, learned through this life struggle, both of us earnestly interested in personal growth and independence. We, none of us, is perfect. We, none of us, have it all figured out. I find that we figure it out as we go along. I love my mother richly, deeply, intensely. I respect her for the hard struggle of her life. I adore her outrageous sense of humor and her ability to find the oddest circumstances hysterically funny. I love the humility that has not always been easily admitted to or arrived at. I am ever grateful for her love of words and books and all things British. And I know I would not be this complicated, complex individual without having had her as my Mother. And I know, for all the ways she really fucked me up, during some phases of my malleable years more than others, she loves me with a love uniquely generated from someplace in her center...someplace in that Soul that is so much more, so much larger than this physical body she presently inhabits.


As I guided her back to the dining area for her supper, reconnecting with the nurses aid, I heard her say to Taylor, "I don't know where she goes...." and Taylor, the CNA, gently responded, "Probably home." Thus Mom segues from one realm into the other. And so it goes....dementia today, dementia tomorrow......