Quid Pro Quo (This for that)

Funny how we wheel and deal with life, situations, with people, adversity, every triumph and

tragedy. It's not a heehehee kind of funny but a peculiar rational or irrational-type of funny. The moments we are fearless be it out of necessity or simply the requisite to get through the raging or quiet storm. When our only choice is to run, hide or fight for our lives with every breath and aching heart-beat, from the deep murky depths into the fiery places where we stow our courage, on the ready to mount-up. The times we feel scantily clad with bravery yet somehow muster-up the strength enough to come up for air out of darkness into the light. Blind faith in exchange for answered prayers, conquered challenges met by solid determination to come out of the wild weather,  braver, better, badder for the wear and tear. 

The peaks seem unsurmountable, plateaus level off accordingly. We are left exhausted, exhilarated, inspired and ready or not, again armed with the capacity to deal with life's speed bumps and road blocks. In a strange and wonderful way; resilience and collateral damage have an understanding, to use the apropriate arsenal which makes way for the right to bear such arms in the event of painful, rough, unfair, burdensome, raw, trails and tribulations. It's funny how the dreary, dreaded, scathing, grueling times seem to move in show motion yet we see ourselves through, we propel ourselves into a personal evolution at which point we humbly yield to ageless growing pains.

Watching life unfold as loved ones pass away, it squeezes out every drop of blood from your heart. You feel left out to dry as vultures circle over awaiting their dried-out feast. Death comes to the young and old, the living and nearly dead dying and those who have checked-out in various ways. Meanwhile, the daily grind, hurry-up, get it done, your busy, your tired, your burnt-out and over it demands your attention. Local, national and international affairs only serve to fill you with doubt and despair, the mess translates into stress. What can you do but pray, make a deal for inner peace between your head and your heart, quid pro quo. Maintaining positive perspective, hope, faith, compassion, kindness, each priceless quality and virtue, it's own answered prayer. The trade-off? Peace of mind, reprieve and damage control. 

Dear Mom

Sunday, August 28th, 2016, you would have turned 91 years of age. We gathered to celebrate your life, we laughed and cried, sang and milled about recalling your courage as a single mother and the lessons you taught us. We talked about what a great role model you have been and what a good person you will be remembered as. While we missed your physical presence I know you are at peace resting in a state of perfection with Mark by your side.

My big sister, Sophie, found this laminated prayer among Moms' belongings.

Mom wrote the names of her children around the edge. My sister, Marcie

read the prayer at Mom's burial site on August, 28th, 2016.

I miss you Mom, from a place deep in my core, from a place that is empty yet filled with love and longing. I see your smile, your frown, your beautiful face, the goofy ways you crossed your eyes to rattle my cage and snap me out of myself. I hear your voice so clearly and feel the gentle warmth of your soft hands. I believe you are with me throughout the day and in the still of the night. You are in my heart and soul. I need you to help me through life just as you did in the most subtle and spectacular ways, when you were here in your physical form.

The times you come to mind are frequent and permeates throughout the day-in day-out grind, just as before. I know you are present in more ways than I can fully comprehend. What a special place you will always have in my very being. I hope I am a good reflection of you and your great spirit, your compassion, your sense of fairness and kindness. In the good times and fiery times we loved each other through them all as the love and respect prevailed and you kept us all in tact. Your children, family and friends revere you and look up to the sold citizen you were, your sense of decency and loyalty to those you loved and cared for are still in place.

I love you so dearly Mom, the layers of life we shared, the faith you maintained throughout your life on earth proved time and again how important it is to hold on to hope, to do the right thing and get on with life peacefully. I hold on to you tightly yet tenderly and I am happy for you where you are in all of your glory with the Lord, where you prayed to be some day. I am thankful for you that we were appointed to one another and I am grateful for the hard and soft lessons I learned from you. THANK YOU MOM! I know your first birthday in Heaven was something wonderful, even more wonderful than the precious memories of you.

Sincerely yours,

Marlena

Reprieve

From a place where sadness runs deep and you dangle suspended in midair like a circus aerial act gone wrong. 

I'm drowning, inhaling a merciless suffocating element that rushes to engulf me in pain.  It is just the blurry view from the mourning I am recalibrating my heart and soul with. Clawing scratching reaching fighting for air, I take a massive breath, it blasts out like a thunderous gust of wind and lighting fast a reprieve presented in a peaceful thought, a whisper from the heavens, I am rebirthed and swim for my life into calm seas floating moving upright smoothly on shore safely again.

Crying, laughing, yelling, talking, singing, walking, hiding, writing and riding along in silence I move forward gently as the soft sand slides though my toes and massages my feet. Then like something that cannot be ignored, a misstep onto the sharp edges of the coral reef with it's hateful jagged unforgiving edges. The pain will pass, the open wound wanting to heal as time and life, wonder, mystery awaits.

Pick Up The Peices

Being an upright, contributing member of society is nice and expected of me and you. Keeping it all together however, can be a little tricky and not always as easy as we'd like. The day-in, day-out grind of life gnaws, nags, twists and shouts ugly profanities in our face. It's interesting, how ups seem bigger after each obstacle is overcome and the down's drill deeper into the abyss of my angst. The choice is mine to decide which trajectory I choose and prefer and have the guts to handle, faster than lighting or painfully slow, lingering into nothing.   
                                           

We blaze through life on automatic pilot expecting everything to go according to plans, if you've made them. We get tripped-up by unforeseen challenges and all hell breaks loose until we get a hold of ourselves. How long the hysteria lasts depends upon the profundity of the "challenge(s)" and also, the position we take on the matter. Perception can snap-us right out of the throws of despair or leave us wallowing in the murky contaminated waters of fear, anger, impatience and stress.

It can take some doing to resolve the brain war but it can be done swiftly with concentrated focus and intention. To recalibrate thinking to a peaceful place where we are able to pick up the pieces, is to be ready to take on the next thing that might threaten our safety, peace of mind, heart and soul. ♥

BABY BOOMERS

Baby Boomers, gotta give 'um credit for hanging in there, through good times and dark times, since there is no choice in the matter, still, credit is due. Time is mostly being kind to aging Baby Boomers who are still active, some working some retired and some still not sure what they want to be when they grow up.

You know you are talking to a Baby Boomer when they start getting sentimental about pay phones, typewriters, encyclopedias, drive-in movies, innocent mischief, fun and games, playing for hours outside and favorite television variety shows like Jack Benny, Ed Sullivan on Sunday nights and Red Skelton. Music was and still is on the forefront and in the background. Music was and is a character in our lives. We could easily recall what we were doing and where we were based on top 40 popular hits being aired on the radio at a given time. The Beatles and Elvis, Jimmy Hendrix and Bob Dylan, The Rolling Stones, Aretha Franklin, Marvin Gaye, Stevie Wonder, Journey, The Dobbie Brothers, Michael Jackson & The Jackson Five jumped out of the boom box and jazzy hipsters like Ray Charles, Tony Benet and Quincy Jones, always seemed to be there.

Ideology and believing in the possibility of world peace was an important part of life and not just an illusion, although many soldiers who went to Vietnam would disagree. The man on the moon seemed about right and righteous and gave Americans something to be proud of and hopeful about. Politics appeared to be a bit more on the up and up and peoples votes counted. Government has always been a strange and curious animal with extra limbs and sharp teeth, a funny and furious freakish-looking creature, desperate for it's survival as the fittest, wealthiest most powerful predator in control of it's own territory.

To be a Baby Boomer or not to be, is out of the question since that is what those of us born during the era we came along in, are referred to. The establishment now is youthful a new livelier funky version of the generation that preceded us. Let us strut with confidence break rules bend the sh!t out of the norm and continue the struggle for equality and justice, peace and love. Let us grow older armed with spunky, youthful attitudes as we sometimes hobble along a bit more than we used to but not as much as the people we thought were so old and still around blessing us with their own brand of tried true and tested wisdom.

Shadows

Darkness then light, the difference between the variation of grey and black, off white pale and soft. Shadows bounce off the wall and roll on the ground, flutter, lay flat, perpendicular, parallel, inside out, upside down, over and under, surrounding us by the light of day around the corner into the empty space. Shadows in the night like whispers in your ears, a comma at the end of a sentence that continues on it's way until it reaches the end with the appropriate punctuation mark that indicates how the line ends, like a gentle reprieve from one thing to the other.

The angles begin and end in geometric ways in a vague formless subtle manner. The edge of darkness bleeds into a soft illumination or a stark contrasting nondescript color. Shadows are everywhere and created by direct and indirect light, space, form, matter, motion and beyond.

A shadow mimics itself, it duplicates, follows and clings to it's own reflection. A metaphor for life, death, the lively, lonely, lost, large, little or big love. Our shadow in heaven longs to touch our earthliness without disturbance, without, so much as a hint, a shadow makes the connection in such a way, we do not understand but it's neither a good thing nor bad, a shadow's only concern is to be a shadow. No wrong way to go about the business of being a shadow, only to be best of the best that a shadow can possibly be.