To My Inner Child

Tear-Drenched eyes
Drying in the sun
Not really sure
Where they’re coming from

It’s something inside
Way down deep
That’s pulling me there
I think it’s grief

For all the times
I ran away
Not wanting to know
What it had to say

Running here
Running there
Finding others
To pretend they care

They can’t give me
What I desperately need
I need by myself
My Soul to feed

Sit quietly beside me
My little one
I’ll let you know
When I am done

Done with the tears
And done with the pain
Will you let me in
Your heart again

Waiting forever
For you to see
That I am you
And you are me


Where Did You Come From?

Even though I knew my Soul would never let you go, I thought I had purged you from my emotions for the most part. In the last six years or so, I’ve been able to think of you without the complete feeling of loss and grief that I had felt the previous 22 years. The other night, I looked at your picture and wished for you a Happy Birthday and a happy life, and didn’t feel anything except love and gratitude for the chance to be able to share my Soul deeply with another person.

Damn the music. I thought it was just bringing back the remembrance of easier things; drinking nights, new friends, new experiences…all the fun experiences of youth. Even the sadness and confusion from those younger years was easier…easier because my heart wasn’t fully open then.

But you popped in back then like you did tonight…suddenly and out of nowhere. To touch my heart in a way it had never been touched before…nor since.

Growing Up

My mother is dying, and I didn’t come home to help with that. I came home because it was the next stop on my life travels; that was all. But the Higher Power that led me here had a different idea. It was time for me to grow up.

When my father passed suddenly, Mom was left at thirty-four with four little ones, eight and under, to care for. I didn’t know then how difficult that was. How would I? Everything had continued on like before. I had a place to sleep, food on the table, and someone to watch over me. And I loved her dearly.

But then I became an adult, in age only, and things started to change. Her taking care of all of my physical needs suddenly hadn’t been enough. I hadn’t received enough hugs or emotional support. None of us could do anything good enough, so she had done everything for us. She sent me out into the world vulnerable, and I didn’t know how to take care of myself. I started to resent her, and when I did go home to visit, if I was in one of my moods, she irritated me more than anything. So I stayed away and didn’t talk to her on the phone much either.

It may not have been quite as bad as it sounds, but I always felt sorry for her having a daughter like me. One who was like her and didn’t know how to express all those deeper emotions that were bubbling inside. I always felt for some reason that I couldn’t be who I really was until she died.

And now she’s dying. I try to apologize for not being the daughter she might have wanted, but she says she doesn’t remember me being like that.  And I see she is not who I remember either. She does have dementia, but it’s more than that. We have both changed and are so fortunate to have this time together to be able to show the love we have for each other. We have both opened up enough to say I love you, and I have been able to care for her physically like she always cared for me. So no, I didn’t come home to help take care of her. I came home for one of the biggest gifts of my life, and am so blessed. Full circle, indeed. I am now a grown up.

I’m sorry it took me so long to find you Mom, and now I have to let you go. My gift to you is to let you go again, only this time with much more love than before. I love you and know you will be so happy in the next life!

This entry was posted on June 21, 2013. 3 Comments



Found this old musing that I posted in a newsletter on 3-29-06 and see that sometimes I’m really slow at changing ingrained behaviors. I have learned to love myself more in five years, but am still waiting for the spontaneity to appear.

“Love is the active concern for the life and the growth of that which we love.”
Erich Fromm

What a wonderful quote. I was having a hard time starting on a newsletter this month because I knew I wanted to write about love. But I thought to myself, “What would someone that’s had but one fleeting moment of romantic love have to say about love?” Then I found this quote and it dawned on me that are many more kinds of love than that often elusive “romantic” love.

It was not too long ago that I finally let go of the idea that love was not about someone coming along to rescue me. Because the only one that was going to rescue me was me, and until I did, I was probably not ready for love anyway. That is when I really began to start growing as a person and started delving deep inside to try to find a way to learn to love myself first.

Today I try to experience fully the love that comes to me in so many ways, but I also try not to hang on so tightly as to block its flow. The other thing that I’m learning is that my lack of spontaneity also blocks the flow. So many times my inhibitions stop me from showing to others what I feel for them deep inside. And what good is all that love inside if it’s not shared with others?

So I’ve started to watch children to see how spontaneous they are when demonstrating their love. They don’t sit and analyze how the other person is going to respond, they just give love freely without expecting anything in return. I was playing on the computer with my friend’s seven-year old daughter the other night when she turned around, kissed me on the cheek, and said “I love you!” It was so unexpected and so pure that it almost brings tears to my eyes as I think of it now. To be able to love like a child again; that is my new goal.

Finding Myself


I am amazed constantly at how Spirit works in my life. Today, over three years since my initial posts on this blog that I created the year I lost my bookstore, I am led back here. There is a reason, of that I’m sure. Even though I’m not quite sure what it is, the realization just struck me that it was exactly four years ago today that I closed the door for the last time on my beloved book store. No one can tell me that being led here today does not have some significance.

Four years has flown by and by society’s standards, I have probably not done much in that time because I don’t go to a regular “job”. In fact, by my own standards, which I’m sure have been enmeshed in me by the culture, I have felt lazy. So one day not long ago, I ran a list through my head of all the things I’ve “done” in the last four years to justify my existence. But if I learned anything from all the introspection of the last four years, it’s that I no longer need to justify my being here. My reason for being here is to follow my heart and to heal my issues. And part of following my heart is to take action when I am inspired, which is what I am doing here today on this blog. If in doing that, I am able to inspire anyone else, then life is just doubly good.

It so saddens me to see so many people going every day to places they don’t want to be. How much happier do you think the world would be if we each did what brings us joy?

Who’s Watching Out for You?


Boy, how the time flies.  It’s been over two weeks since I wrote that first blog.  I thought I would get back to it sooner, but I had to reflect on what I had written and get some feedback from a friend.  She thought that maybe I just hadn’t found my true calling yet and this was a transitional time.  I know back in ’98 when I had the same feeling, albeit much longer and more foreboding, it was followed a few years later by the idea for my bookstore.  I truly thought that was my calling.  It felt like my whole life had led me there and it ignited in me a passion that I hadn’t ever felt so strongly before.

But the Universe has been taking such good care of me since I closed the store in January, that I know the feeling is a temporary one (aren’t they all?) and there is something else brewing.  However, I think there is much more to learn in the interim.  Two different people in the last few days have heard me say things that they were kind enough to bring to my attention.  Both of these people helped me become aware of some deep seated patterns that I have that are being brought to my attention for healing.  Not too long ago, I may have gotten quite defensive (I still could, depending on how things are presented to me).  But now, I am grateful for a chance to look at things a little more deeply so I can move beyond them and not cope in my old, entrenched ways.  I can either sit with them now and try to heal them, or I can have the same issues pop up for who knows how much longer.

I think I would rather take the time now while I’m in this transitional phase.  Who knows?  If I would have been off following a passion somewhere, I may not have had this opportunity.  See how that Universe takes such good care of us?

Where’s Waldo


Remember the game or puzzle where you try to find Waldo in the crowd?  Tonight I realized that puzzle is so much like real life.  We’re little specks in a big Universe and it’s sometimes hard to find yourself.  You search and search and just when you think you’ve found yourself, you realize you have to start looking all over again.

For me, I occasionally get this feeling that there’s something missing in the puzzle of my life and I can’t quite put my finger on it.  I’m a relatively content person and I have a deep faith that everything I’ve experienced in my life has been for a reason.  In fact, I’m so appreciative of where I am now just because I know where I was not that long ago.   And that keeps me in gratitude for what I experience now.

But, there’s still a part of me that every now and then goes to that place of “Is this all there is?”  I just don’t get it.  Because I am someone that enjoys so many things that are often taken for granted.  Tonight, it’s sitting quietly in my living room as I look out at the dusk sky and feel the slight breeze blowing across my skin.  And I realize how much I love dusk; that space between day and night, between our waking world and our dream world.  But still, as beautiful as it is, it just feels as if there is something missing.  Tonight, at least.

Is it just me or do you sometimes feel the same way?