It's been just over eight months
since my mom passed,
and 2 and a 1/2 weeks
since Marlow
has been diagnosed
with Lung Cancer.
I surrender.
I've stopped trying to control things.
Stopped making plans.
Now, rather I am a vessel of God.
Not in the scary bible beating,
alt-right,
don't kill your baby
kind of way.
Pliable.
Like a palm tree.
I've read their root structure is so deep that when the storms come,
their grounding is what allows them to
bend-
not break.
I look inside to surrender,
and become molded
into what the great carpenter sees.
I like wood.
I've never been religious.
For a short period when I was sixteen,
I wanted to go to church.
Maybe I wanted to see what was so special,
what had people up on their feet,
dancing.
I want to see whats real.
Perhaps I had a touch of
FOMO.
Either way,
I shared my inquisitory nature with my parents,
and they were
supportive.
Bottom line,
I never followed thru.
But now-
all of a sudden-
I've decided to be molded in the vision of the GOD??
To live a life in the way "HE" sees fit.
I don't even know how thought popped into my head.
Weird (for me)
But ok.
I was driving past the Beverly Center,
and there it was,
Crystal Clear.
Who knows why we think the things we do.
The other night I dreamt
Mike stripped my shrimp tempura
of all the outside fried parts
and fingered all the goods.
Leaving 2 remaining piles,
a greasy dismissal heap,
and a clear tail of carcass.
I was pissed.
Sometimes that's just it.
Brains do what they want,
so, I focus on what I can.
Still,
in light,
of my mothers death.
I want,
to be pissed.
I threaten,
I hate all people,
(most) people
but the truth is-
my secret
-to the core,
I've always tried,
to focus
on the positive.
There was a time,
I thought,
perhaps,
it was all for her,
what she needed,
from me.
A good,
Upbeat,
Dutiful,
Daughter.
Hell,
maybe
there is a nugget
of truth in that too.
But it is important,
for me to recognize-
the essence
of all things present
has an energy-
therefor-(of course)
it makes sense to
channel the goods.
This hasn't always been the case.
We are humans.
Most likely derived from apes.
(Not looking to dive into a chat room fight of the origin of man here),
point being-
I forget.
I get stuck.
My innerds fight for me recognizing my lack of movement.
Like a classic game of Galactica,
where I just cant get to the
next level.
I know
where the opposition is coming from,
I know
the timing.
I'm
just off.
Maybe my joystick is stuck,
Maybe I blink.
So I don't advance.
Maybe
I change games.
I enter different initials
refusing to acknowledge my losses,
Maybe I just turn it all off
and walk away.
Being afraid
of leaping,
into the unknown
is stifling to me.
I feel it quake my heart,
and I do nothing.
Be it for money,
or love
or security.
Who can know for sure.
There are moments
we as humans,
become locked,
into the perpetual twist,
and bound
by responsibilities.
Shackled.
The result?
Muddy waters.
Not even the band.
I could be on board with that.
Failing to recognize
this...
is where the lotus grows.
In recent years,
I prodded along,
miserable.
Refusing to shift.
Until the World did it for me.
Evolution through Crisis.
Feather,
Pebble,
Boulder.
I got the boulder.
And I didn't like it.
And there was nothing,
I could've done about it.
And I'm afraid to admit
that losing
My Mother
was the Freedom I needed.
I hate that I was to afraid,
to do it on my own.
What a key I have been given.
I am at a loss.
So I'm letting the big "Man"
"Woman"
"Spirit"
"Light"
widdle away.
I would give anything to
have another opportunity,
to simply paint the door
with the beautiful,
strong,
vulnerable,
unique,
Spirit
that I call "Momma".
Dear God,
Take this tiny piece,
of warped
ocean drift wood,
that I have become,
and refurbish me
in the way,
you see fit.
Because my way,
is done.
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