If I Should Die Tomorrow…

This is something a little different, a little dark.

Death is the only part of the life cycle that’s often spoken about in hushed tones. Mystified, revered, and feared – we sing about it, we write sonnets, but they are nearly always in the heart of the night spoken in metaphors with its essence only gleaned in the subtext.

But I don’t want hushed tones, aching, and tears at my death.
Instead sing from rooftops that I can finally find peace for my weary bones.
Shout that I lived and loved hard and died once the last ounce of passion left my body.
Tell them I used up everything.
Graffiti the walls with the words I spoke most often and may the lion’s share be the loveliest and most uplifting of things.
If I should die tomorrow, please don’t lay my body down.
Spread my ashes to the world.
Take me on one last trip.
Let me go in the wind.
Scatter me over seeds so that I may be part of the trees and it can be said that I began and ended with roots.
Place me at the center of all elements so that I may live eternity in perfect balance.
I have not lived quietly or apologetically so honor me by wearing red, dancing on a moonlit night in an open field of wildflowers, drinking good whiskey and great red wine, breathing slow in the morning, loving openly and unconditionally, and living your truth out loud every damn day.
Gather annually around a fire with good tunes – not to spend a weekend remembering me, but because I have found presence and connection to be the answer to nearly everything.
If I should die tomorrow, please don’t lay my body down.
May I still fly and swim and grow and burn,
may my words still rally,
may thoughts of me still inspire warmth,
and may my love still heal
long after the last of me is washed away to sea.

Love Always,
Me

How to Redefine Challenge and Endurance

The life I want isn’t quiet, calm, or easy. I want my comfort zone to crack, I want my walls to shake, I want my glass ceilings shattering left and right. Somewhere along the way not wanting to take shit became ungrateful and lazy. I don’t agree.

Once upon a time I found out my life path is endurance and my low-level, chaos loving, naive ego whispered into my ear “That makes sense, you can take an inordinate amount of shit and keep on going.” Somehow just running a marathon wasn’t enough if I didn’t have to wade through muck and ruck uphill. My life has taught me to embrace a certain amount of suck and that isn’t a bad thing, but challenge doesn’t always equal as suffering. It took me a long time to understand that this life path of endurance wasn’t an excuse to put my sanity on the line. I needed my endurance to lend its energy to something different; I needed something more than I can make it through the crappy situations that I keep exposing myself to.

I have found that there are three courses you can take through this metaphorical marathon of life.

The first course feels like stagnancy, but is really more like comfortable and boring as hell; you’re still moving forward at a steady pace, but there is nothing to challenge and there will never be any change. This may be the most comfortable path for some, but they will never be challenged, never grow, and if something blows into their path they will have no idea what do about it. Life as they know it would come to a screeching halt. On this path everyone is running their own race with blinders on. The runners are barely aware that anyone is beside them let alone willing to stop and help.

The second course is rebellion; this path is full of fire and brush and swamps and looking for love in all the wrong places. Upon first look one might think this is the path less taken, but this has its own special kind of miserable comfort. On this path people are only waiting to trip you up or bring you down to their level because, well, misery loves company.

The last course truly is the one less taken; this path transforms with you. As you grow to meet the current challenge it will push you further and further out of your comfort zone. This path knows you and your deepest fears, but the course is built for success. This is the path you will find the most support and love within and you will run faster and jump higher than you ever thought possible if you just put in the work.

Sometimes you change the course. Hell, I did a few times over.

I don’t want comfortable, I never have, but I have changed what I am willing to endure. Sure, life will throw curve balls. Sure, bad things may happen, but I am unwilling to intentionally run into the line of fire anymore in the name of endurance. Challenges may be uncomfortable, but ultimately result in growth. How do you know if you are suffering needlessly? One wonderful way to know the difference – you’ll end up right back where you started. If you’re on a hamster wheel there is no real forward momentum, only tireless scrambling and one hell of a leg cramp.

What patterns aren’t working for you anymore? What course do you think you’re running? I’d love to hear!

Love Always,
Me

Walking into 2016 Empty, New Years, Transformation - Photo Courtesy of Mariona Campany via Unsplash

New Year Part Deux: I’m Walking in Empty

And now one about walking into 2016.

I’m walking in empty. There are no resolutions to be found here. Sure there are things that I would like to see come to pass, but it has nothing to do with that half-hearted and short-lived annual goal planning.

I’m not short on faith. Or love. Or light.

But I do plan on walking into this year empty.
I’m walking in empty of my attachments to that certain outcome.
I’m walking in empty of complacency.
Empty of heart aching. Empty of the weight of the past year.
Empty of half-hearted yeses and settling. Empty of give-a-damns about societal norms.
Empty of the will to chase.
And just plain ol’ empty of the flotsam jetsam from the trials of living.

No reason to hold on.

I’m emptying all of that out to make space.
Instead of holding on to my way, I’m making space for divine miracles.
Instead of complacency, I’m making space for full presence and passion.
Instead of heart ache, I’m making space for compliment.
Instead of the weight of the past year, I’m making space for the many, many, many blessings to come… forever.
Instead of settling, I’m making space for all of the spine-tingling, lusty, awe-inspiring HELL YESES.
Instead of wasting my fucks on societal norms, I’m making space for, well… me.
Instead of chasing, I’m making space for receiving.
And instead of detritus, I’m making space what I treasure most – those I love.

My walking into 2016 empty is intentional and joyous.

I’m empty because I’m burnt out on conventional knowledge being my means to an end.
I’m empty because my way should be in alignment with divine way.
I’m empty because all of that crap that I couldn’t throw away and all of the stories I cleaved to took up the space in my heart and head and life that magic should have held.

I have this kind of feeling that the last two years have been setting us all up for something pure magic in the near future.

Walk into 2016 empty with me! Tell, me what are you leaving behind and what are you making space for?

Love Always,
Me