When “Something” Speaks… Let it BE

As complex and uncertain as a moment in life might be, that is how some things happen to exist. I left my guard down and witnessed within. There is no better way to explain what I saw, than telling the story as it happen to me.
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Loneliness is a strange thing…

It has the power to summon such a wide range of emotions and place them randomly on the canvas of experience. Loneliness dressed for the occasion, and takes the feminine discontent and expectancy lurking from the mirror before an important event.

It might be sweet as nostalgia or really painful as a loss.
It might savor hope and become yearning in the long run.
It might be unbearable as despair, or eternal as the dark nights of the soul.

Loneliness is a friend I have known since long ago, there is no use in running or pretend I must go.
It can come for a visit and hang on with one or the many walking by or just engaged in small talk.
It might post a picture and join the cyber space, circling around words and events wishing to be heard.

Loneliness is a strange thing, I must say once more…
It can stir the invisible substance where things grow and turn into high speed intentions and creative flow.
It might happen to be a serene getaway for the silent longings rising from the beyond, and soaring as flying metaphors of the heart’s call.

Loneliness knocked and I opened the door…
She waited patiently as I sang my song.
Then took the beads and strung them up.
One by one the space filled up,
Reeling words sketching my soul

Loneliness can surprise us too with the colored face of the truth…
There is beauty and magic in the painful hope voicing it sadness openly to the Gods.
A string of consciousness might reveal the treasure hidden in a sudden tear and from the solitude of who we are, offer something to that other who might as well searching is, about why loneliness is such a strange thing.

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LONELINESS’ TRUTH

Today I feel lonely
Lonely as the seed awaiting to become

Loud and messy Life sings
Its song just an echo leaving no print
Bouncing from one gesture to another
In nameless faces and dreams
Vibrant Waves pass by
To dye in routine

Today I feel lonely
Lonely and forgotten as the mist touched by sunlight

Rushing steps and cheerful laughs
Chirping birds and caution warns
A cacophony of vital wise
Running through the veins of ordinary life
A memory blinks of a time in the past
Where I was too a note
In this music blast

Was I really ever one..
A note dancing
In this music staff?

Today I feel lonely
Lonely as the dissonance in a plain ballade

It is not that I’m alone
Noise and sparks
Colors and forms
Move around and call along
So bright and bold
Unchanging and dull
The profane reigns
Claiming to be
The word of the Gods

Today I feel lonely
Lonely as only the heart might know
When dwelling in the void left
By a nostalgic Soul

I look in the mirror of dangled sighs and solitary tears
Farewell petals and secrets hopes
Caressed by invisible frontiers
Unspoken words in aging ink
Remember the future
Of timeless kisses
Unwillingly mourning the past long gone
And surrendered unlived

Today I feel lonely
Lonely as one for whom the other is lost
Or yet to be known
One for whom
Her true reflection is no longer enough

Today I feel lonely
And wish I was not
I seek the promise of the encounter
And search the stars for a response
Twinkle, twinkle
Far beyond
As I wonder if above
Angels keep all dream notes

Today I feel lonely
And nothing but you can fill the void
You dearest, a mirage of joy
Eternal reverie of a solitary soul
Casting silent spells
To place a face to love

 

Mercedes Calcano
July 2015

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TIME FOR LOVE

Flying-Puppy“In the flush of love’s light, we dare be brave. And suddenly we see that love costs all we are, and will ever be. Yet it is only love which sets us free.”
Maya Angelou

 

 

How many times we have been told that we choose our thoughts and even how we feel. It has been hard for me to deal with that notion as I tend to be in a “longing” kind of mood as old as me. I wake every morning, having to remind myself to count my blessings – I slept well, I have a bed, birds are singing, it is a rainy day, (I love those). I follow my morning routine, get a coffee and go back to bed to read or write about my impressions and meditate (or at least try!).

The grey clouds in the sky seem the stuffing of an old silver bed cover with glowing patches here and there. As they move slowly, I think to myself – this would past too – What is “this”? That is the question.

When I was a kid, I remember praying for enthusiasm. I was a very responsible and stubborn kid; I spend hours studying, practicing and perfecting whatever is that I was up to. Even then, though, I felt as my inspiration and persistence were fueled by a “heavy” passion, defiance or even a sense of duty. It was hard work and struggle imposed from within, a painful mix of resilience and hope going along with an endless zest to uncover the truth.

The truth here is a very wide concept, made of the many existential questions I have asked myself since childhood. Answers have come and gone, dressed up in experiences, books, therapy, studies, relationships and artistic endeavors. There have been moments of absolute pleasure, infatuation and recognition, as well as despair, sadness and giving in.

I was told once I was an “intense” person. The comment was made in the context of a conflicted relationship and intended to point out the “villain” flaw responsible for the problem. It crushed me… not because I thought it was the root of the problem, but because it was true. I felt that the inner world I had been immersing myself to find answers was being erased at a stroke and I would never be loved…

That inner world was loaded with blurred and strange “things” exerting a strong pull on me. Some were indescribable, others painful and there were those that only could fit into the category of “magic.” I felt busted! The inner attic of my heart and soul could be a mess, but It was a mess I was exploring with the timeless memories of our humanity and the promise of continuity.

Today, I can acknowledge with a smile, that I am indeed intense. Nothing goes in the bucket of indifference to me. I experience every good or bad mood, event, discovery, emotion and wonder in all its beautiful force. Sometimes is damn difficult, too much to bear for a vulnerable and breakable human being! Add to that, my inner critic’ tendency to beat myself out for taking in that much, and the “inadequate-self” who jumps into “fixing mode” right away.

There are those quiet days, when I sit in bed and ask again – it is a new day, shouldn’t my soul be rising as the sun?

I think of enthusiasm then, and face the culprit behind its disappearance; love. The love I have a lifetime craving from the outside because it is so hard to find within.

Circumstances are bad measures for our worth; it is so easy to get caught in others’ definitions of success. It is also common to get trapped in our story and edit those scenes that speak of a different world; a world that asks for self-love and the courage to show up and let myself be seen.

Perhaps enthusiasm is just the result of an unshakable faith and trust in the WHO I really am and my gifts; joined with the willingness to believe that no matter how “out of context” life seems to be, the Universe is plotting to do me good.

I keep going through this process of learning to relax and flow. It is a choice I have to make every day (or even every minute if I can remember to turn the autopilot off).

The sun is rising and my soul is sleepy…
Let compassion and acknowledgement carry her into the world today.
Let a choice define the moment as an adventure,
And walk the path with “How amazing!” lenses in the senses and
A grateful and open mind,
Miracles shall find me…

And you my dear reader, how does enthusiasm reveals to you?

 

Image Credit – http://cutearoo.com/2011/03/10/its-a-bird-no-its-a-plane/

Goodby Soul

“A rebirth out of spiritual adversity causes us to become new creatures”.
James E. Faust

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It has been quite some time since I last visited this page. My life’s journey has thrown me into a spiral of emotions and events that require reflection, experience and change. I am not done yet… I have not even gotten near to an understanding of its impact and the turning point I feel is haunting me.

The only thing certain today is that I need to take one step at the time.

There have been many hardships and doubts in my life; yet I never, not for once; doubted my soul’s guidance before. I had lived with a sense of “Something Bigger” being in charge of the “madness” and the belief in an invisible Force in me worthy of a Sci-fi Trilogy.

I was used to “Dark Nights of the Soul” and to feel mine squirming and jumping as a dog before lying asleep. It could also surprise me with awkward and nonsensical ideas too.  Still,  I trusted fiercely that it would lead me into the light and I would be a better human being afterwards.

Not this time.

This time I felt betrayed and laughed at. I was angry and I have had enough of following blindly a quirky invisible thing that after all this time together, had had the nerve of leaving me hanging in the abyss and in so much pain.

Act One. The Unimaginable

If you are like me, a master in looking for any justifications to explain what is inexplicable or just plain awful, or so caught in your story of unworthiness that you are afraid to say enough is enough;  then you can understand what a huge deal was for me to feel such anger and sack my soul.

Oh, yes, I did, and I am not sure I have rehire it either. This time I am up for a better deal. If I am going to keep being the Ginned Pig, I want sound presence and loud answers.

For once in my life I stopped looking up, or within, with my head down and a begging whisper. I face it straight ahead with everything organic or not shaking and shouted – I am done. Whatever contract I have with you, consider it broken. I quit.

Silence…

Act Two

… A weird standing-in-the-void-kind-of-mourning-experience where I have no idea what to do with myself.

I had not realized that when you fired your soul, you run out of solid excuses for avoiding and resisting the earthy demands that fall into another bag of excuses labelled-“answering to my Grail Quest.”

Perhaps I am, and the darn thing not only hides, but jingles behind me to see how alert I remain.
(It does not feel as cruel as before; nevertheless, I am still angry).

Act Three. Spiritual awakening or breakdown?

No idea. I decided that I would paint butterflies and make origami animals, watch TV series and see if the character’s monsters under the bed are really scary shadows or, we have a comedian-soul-epidemic.

The worst part is that although I fired it, (and I am mad and…) I am speaking about it and even doing things regarding that old saying of mine -“follow your soul” (imagine a deep voice).

What if it does not know what is that is doing? Or if it is has become so “human” that ends like me, going from one “place” to another?

Can a soul lose it’s compass? A soul, you know? Light, divine spark… I am not talking about us, the mortal ones.

I always believed that the soul was in speed dial with the Higher Source. I might not be able to sneak in the conversations or watch through the keyhole or understand what surely  would be communication in code! But again, I trusted…

How could I be so lost and in so much pain? How could I have so uproariously failed following its lead?

Act Four. In the “Realm of Mysteries”!

I pride myself on being good at designing creative and deep learning experiences for my students, to go beyond paradigms into the vast Universal imagination to connect dots, lines, shapes and whatever, to depict the path of “knowledge.” This is ludicrous compared to what the Soul can come up with to bring you a well-designed-tailored-learning-experience!

Yes, I have come to think that this might have underlying currents too deep to be able to follow. In the meanwhile, I dance in the edge between the “old and new” Me. I cannot see before, past, up or down; I can only be here and answer to the impulse to write.

Could this be the lesson? I wonder…

I have no idea how many acts are there in this play; nevertheless, I am determined that the final act will be written  four hands!

Hush…
I have to leave,  I can hear my soul jingling!

 

Image Credit:
http://naomuack.blogspot.com/2010_03_01_archive.html