Pardon Me, Have You Seen My Sense of Destiny?

Pardon me, have you seen my sense of destiny?

I seemed to have lost it along the way somewhere

Yet, I’ve looked up and down and it isn’t here anywhere

I can’t even remember when or where I had it last

Or any other clue that links the future to my past

I must have lived so long without it that, I’m ashamed to say,

I hardly even noticed it was gone today

Until I read that book.

The book that meddled, unauthorized, with my head

Forcing me, irreverently, to unearth the sacred dead

And bow humbly to destiny’s gravitational force 

At the unyielding wall of its Holy Source

I wrote this after being struck dumb with Neil Gaiman’s The Ocean at the End of the Lane; a delightful read that surprised me with the holiness of everyday life and everyday people.

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I Pledge Allegiance to Living Stress-Free

I pledge allegiance to living stress-free

Remembering worry doesn’t work for me

And neither does angry fretting (unfortunately)

I pledge allegiance to living stress-free

Because controlling people and things 

(I don’t control) is the job of Kings

Not me.

Truthfully

My worry and stress never helped one single soul

Only pulled me deep into a sucking hole

Where there was no benefit for me or anyone

Just an embarrassing waste of adrenalin*

*Some of us, who insist upon worrying, believe, erroneously, that the opposite of worrying is not caring. However, this is not the case. Often, surrendering is the only wise way to effectively care…and much more efficient.

The Ocean Speaks

Maybe one reason humans love the ocean is because it speaks to our cells, not only of beauty, but of deeply subconscious things.

Today I hear it say…

 

All of life is rhythm.

Don’t waste your time trying to stop it.

Face each wave with reverence.

Hear me roar.

Millions will never see me and cannot imagine my vastness.

If you do; bow.

And, when you are away from the ocean, bow to the ocean within you.

Honor the magnitude of my abundance.

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Asking is the beginning of receiving. Make sure you don’t go to the ocean with a teaspoon. At least take a bucket so the kids won’t laugh at you. – Jim Rohn

Fanfare for the Common Man

Fanfare for the Common Man is a brilliant composition by Aaron Copland, written initially to honor the contribution of WWII soldiers. However, I was thinking of the sentiment today when my adult nephew (with learning challenges) expressed his frustration about being a nobody.

Many of us can relate to the pain of feeling “too common.”

What I wanted to convey to him is best summed up by Naomi Nye. The end of the poem, Famous, captured it…

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I have found so much peace in the simple act of handing over my small contribution to the Universe, asking that it be multiplied to feed whatever need exists versus fretting about whether the world notices me or not.

This is when Fanfare for the Common Man plays in my head.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0KxMc_tyQBo

Give Up on the World?

I cannot give up on the world

While there are books unread

Their important words, to me, unsaid

Poignant voices of truth singing somewhere

Away from whom, I, deaf and unaware,

Cradle my uninformed opinions

I may be in pain and out of my mind with disdain

Cringing at the deeply-rooted, evil seed

The crawling malignancy around and within

Cold and calloused greed

But, really, can I wisely give up on the world? 

It may not be advisedly sane until I have used the one last effort

Of my sometimes rational brain

(Not in some melodramatic faint

Resigning sigh or fist-pounding complaint)

But in seeking, seeking, seeking

My sisters, brothers, mothers, kin 

No! Until then

I cannot give up on the world

(Spoken by the author who once thought herself the world’s greatest failure.)

If I Want a Big Life

If I want a big life

It starts with a smile on my face

Not in that very small place

Where everything I see

Is bigger, better, or more than me

If I want a big life

I can’t wallow in some small slight

What someone said, or what isn’t right

If I want a big life

It’s me who must live 

Worthy of big

Worthy of noble

Worthy of strong

Patchwork People

When I look at people I know well, or at myself, I see a patchwork of weird, dark, light, smart, ridiculous, redemptive, ruined, interesting, disgusting, helpful, harmful, beautiful, and ugly. What keeps me sane and out of rage when the ugly, dark, ruined, disgusting, or harmful side shows is:

  • remembering that not one of us escapes this irregularity
  • focusing on the other side
  • counting people as worthy of mercy

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When You Can’t

When you can’t do it for yourself

Do it for those who never had a chance

Who died before their time

For those who had to push through the pain

Every day

Or trudge through battle fields, cold, and rain

For those who kept going when there was no light

Who kept fighting

After they had lost the fight

 

Do it for them, if you can’t do it for you

Be the ball, take the shot, cop the attitude

You’ve always had enough to master today

Now go and give it away

Whatever it is

You got this.

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If You Were to Take Your Life

If you were to take your life today

You would miss the books you hadn’t read

Holding entire worlds to see;

Transcendental jolts of recognition

From sources yet unknown to thee

 

If you were to take your life today

You would miss the transformation

Of your raw, and often cruel, pain

As it passed through the broken shards

Of fantastic light into the purest Novocain

 

If you were to take your life today

You would be so surprised to find

That you had missed blankets of cool relief

That, although delayed, were closer to you

Than ever your disbelief

The Destroyer

If you want to find out where everything went wrong

If you want to figure out how all the chaos got started

If you want to discover when the loving stopped

Or the joy vanished

And the easy became hard

If you want to track down the villain in the story

And punish him

Then do it quickly

Track down the fear in your own heart and disown it now

Because it is faster than cancer

And more destructive than the impact and shrapnel from a thousand bombs

It has tutored your ego into malice

And baited your intellect into stupidity

It has sucked your blood until you were the real vampire, the real boogie, the scariest zombie

From the most gruesome nightmare ever dreamed

And it was you all along

You! who gave fear the key

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