This is borrowed from a little french blog, recently discovered and im enjoying her work, her truthfulness is refreshing. She says, ‘If music be the food of love, play on’ I tend to agree, thank you Sabrina @tombstoneblues16 This comes at the most welcomed of timing
Tag: thoughts
what if..
what if..this is it, never anymore or any less than the way things are right now, can you be alright with that?
what if..It was never meant to be the ‘everything’ it was always only meant to be life, unfolding into itself.
..there is a possibility that we already are the ‘everything’ we search for. What if it was never life’s intention that we reach that place of absolute completeness in our essential being.
What if, we already are ‘that’ essential being and ‘the all’ that it encompasses and instead we find ourselves momentarily pausing from our true essence to feel and be in this life for a while. What if the only way we are to really know ourselves is by having access to the all that we are not as well.
Is it possible, that we are meant to feel the magnitude of life’s pain and devastations, joy and blessings, truths and untruths, loves and losses, beginnings and endings..What if at some time, some place we chose this plan, we decided upon this story for reasons that may not always be clear in the process as it is unfolding.
Is it possible that we simply have forgotten what we have decided?
What if, it doesn’t really matter which direction you take. Can you for a moment consider that there are really no wrongs here just different choices and paths, does this alter your perception on things a little?
What if, today, tomorrow, yesterday you are and have always been complete. That really you are just moving through life experiencing your ‘self’ in many shades much the same as every one else. Maybe if we really understood this, we wouldn’t find it necessary to be so hard on ourselves or each other. Maybe we could forgive more easily.
What if, we decide it is enough. What we have in this life, the story we are living, the people we love the ones we care for, the way we move though our days, accepting equally our wonderous gifts and our misgivings, our faithful promises and failures to keep them, honouring ourselves when things are good and even more so in harder times.
What if, acceptance is what is needed, acceptance of all that is and all that will be, is it possible that happiness and contentment can still be found here?
and I know that..
And I know I am deathless.
I know this orbit of mine cannot be swept by a carpenters compass.
..I do not trouble my spirit to vindicate itself or be understood,
I see that the elementary laws never apologize. I recon I behave no prouder than the level I plant my house by after all.
I am of old and young, of the foolish as much the wise,
Regardless of others, ever regardful of others,
Maternal as well as paternal, a child as well as a man,
Stuffed with the stuff that is coarse, and stuffed with the stuff that is fine,
One of the great nation, the nation of many nations- the smallest the same and the largest the same,
All goes onward and outward….and nothing collapses,
And to die is different from what anyone supposed, and luckier.
Has any one supposed it lucky to be born? I hasten to inform him or her it is just as lucky to die, and I know it.
My faith is to the greatest of faiths and the least of faiths.
Enclosing all worship ancient and modern and all between ancient and modern,
Believing I shall come again upon the earth after five thousand years ..
-Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass
takings from, Whitman’s Leaves of Grass
takings from, Whitman’s Leaves of Grass
I exist as I am, that is enough
If no other in the world be aware, I sit content
And if each and all be aware I sit content.
Whoever degrades another degrades me…
and whatever is done or said,
returns at last to me,
And whatever I do or say I also return.
The pleasures of heaven are with me,
and the pains of hell are will me,
The first I graft and increase upon myself..
the latter I translate into a new tongue.
I am the poet of the woman the same as the man,
And I say it is great to be a woman as to be a man.
And I say there is nothing greater than the mother of men.
And as to you life, I reckon you are the leavings of many deaths,
No doubt I have died myself ten thousand times before.
mothers
mothers
He asks,
‘What is it you do?
I’m a mother
‘Yes, I know that but what else, before that?
She feels her heart drop to the pit of her stomach , as she frantically searches her mind for a more suitable answer.
A mother, just a mother.
He is oblivious in the knowing, that in that moment all worthiness was stripped away and her heart was silently crying an abundance of tears
For the self she is yet to know and the self she has whole heartedly given to her children.
when did it become not enough? when was it that becoming a mother became so undervalued? It is true, there are parts of myself, parts that are not a mother or a wife but are simply me. They are most of the time in the shadows or only seen as a glimpse now and again and as mothers, the caretakers of our families we know only too well that this is a selfless journey we have chosen. We move through our days nurturing and nourishing our families by meeting needs and with an abundance of love. Often allowing all those who matter most to us to move on their journeys ahead of our own. We wait patiently, maybe for only a few minutes of solitude, or a full nights sleep, or enough time to take a bath, read a chapter in a book, or a pause long enough to feel the warmth of the sun on our faces, maybe the bigger things we will have to wait a little longer for.
It is undeniably deplorable that the very words ‘ I am a mother’ are so often perceived as insignificant and demeaning. That even I, when asked this was not able to convey my own importance and sacrifices here, that I was, in that moment diminished to feeling like it wasn’t enough. I believe that if it wasnt for mothers, so many that are blessed to be living up to their ambitious dreams and walking the journeys that they have chosen for themselves without the need to pause or defer to raise the children, might look upon us in a new light and with gratitude in their hearts. 
thoughts on Venice
Venice, she’s relic, loved passionately, admired for all her beauty,taken
advantage of, mistreated, deep in-depth, full of secrets, helpless, relentless, breathtakingly beautiful, fierce yet ravishing, seductive in nature and history, provocative, hidden, devastatingly captivating and deeply mysterious in all her ways.. how could you not fall madly, deeply in love with her.
-carly macaulay
St GEORGIA & Boo 