Car Drive

I mentioned before that I was moving and its pretty much done, but tonight I moved my kitties. They've been really anxious the last few days seeing all the boxes, all their favorite spots either moving or disappearing. My cats also hate to see me upset and this move has been hard so they hang extra close to me when I'm sad. Its been a tough week for them and the epitome of the whole thing was the drive across town trapped in their travel boxes. It was horrible. I felt so bad for them. They cried the whole way. I wanted so bad to pull them out and hold them and tell them and let them know that this was a good thing that this would be a good transition for them, but I couldn't it wasn't safe for them to be out of their boxes yet. And I wondered if Heavenly Father was doing the same thing to me. Knowing that whats been happening to me may be hard but that its leading to better things and that even though I can't see where I'm going that He can see and to trust in Him and have faith. How hard it must be for Him to resist the urge to protect and spare us the pain and sorrows of this mortal period, to take his children up into His arm and tell them that this all really is for the best. So the car ride as simple as it may have been was profound because it reminde me of simple things that I had forgotten. It reminded me to breath, to relax and enjoy this mortal journey and to trust in Him leading the way. To be still and listen to the comforting words of The Holy Spirit, that everything really will be okay.

Miss M

Sensuality

I like to be sensual. Not sexual, mind you, but sensual. There is very much a significant difference in my mind. We all know what being sexual is even if we’ve never had sex. It’s an obvious touching and implicating of what may come, an act of physical exertion. There may not be too much of a difference in the actual definitions or in the connotations of the two words but I find that they are subtle but significant, the difference between having sex and making love. It’s the difference between taking up space and being present and involved. Being sensual is also not limited to a man woman relationship. You can have sensual moments with anyone. It’s a reaching out with the aim of connecting with another person to feel apart of one another. Comforting a friend in the midst of deep sorrow by placing and arm around them helping them wipe their tears. It’s sensual because you connect when you extend a touch that is in a moment of vulnerability and trust. Moments of great happiness are sensual it’s the feelings you share as you hug and laugh and share a time that is important and happy to those involved. It is the softness and tenderness and the innocence in a moment that makes the difference. It’s the young mother feeding her fresh and new child in the stillness of the early morning darkness. Its children running to their parents bed in the morning chill when it’s cold out and in the tangle of little arms and feet with yours as they giggle and snuggle and trust. It’s in the smallest of moments that are shared between people the kind of moments that we all cherish and remember because they made us feel. We felt connected and that’s important because we live in such a disconnected world. I love to be sensual. I love to share moments of my life and be a part of someone else’s. I read once a quote that says, “Life is not measured in the number of breaths we take but in the moments that take our breath away.” It is a wonderful thing the sensual and beautiful parts and moments of our lives. It’s an honor and privilege to have people in your life that allow you to have these memories and the hope of a lifetime full of them.

Miss M

Poetry

Just a couple of poems.

7/3/05

The joyous strains of my morning song of praise gently wash over my
tired soul.
Tender rays of light warm my tear stained face.
Hands clasp in prayer to start a new day, a new hope, a hope for

tomorrow to be better than yesterday.
I ponder the source of all goodness and love and ask for his strength to

begin again.
My heart was heavy with the burdens and wounds of the past till the

glorious dawn of forgiveness was mine.
I try to forget but cannot, yesterday belongs o me to leave it behind is to

deny a part of myself.
A part that believed in magic, the part that wants to believe in it again.
My song and my faith continues to renew my tired spirit as I watch the

horizon for the sunrise of these new days.

10/13/99

The saddest song of dread is sung
The pain and joy of love
My heavy head laid low is hung

The sinister dance again begun
A whispered lie that killed the dove
The saddest song of dread is sung

When he took m hand my skin he stung
Oaths sworn then left no love
My heavy head laid low is hung

Words of love that rolled off lying tongue
We danced beneath the moon above
The saddest song of dread is sung

Do I hide behind a song once sung?
To fear the sweet pain and joy of love
My heavy head laid low is hung

No saddest that it had begun
The sadness is from end of love
The saddest song of dread is sung
My heavy head laid low hung

Packing.....remembering....*sigh*

I'm moving on friday. Its a difficult thing for me to pack. Especially now. Before it was only because packing is such an unpleasant task, but now....now its even harder. I'm moving back to my parents house because my dad is sick with cancer and my mom needs the extra support. The thing thats hard though is that I'm also newly single and I have to pack up a life that I can't have any more. I still have all his stuff, our wedding presents, our pictures. Some of this stuff I have to pack away forever and I'll never see it again or I have to forget about it and move on. Change is hard, its difficult to say goodbye to so many things. My love, my life, my dreams, my plans, my hopes and not only do I have to do that I also have to move home and watch my dad get sicker and sicker praying that what I fear most won't happen. Its a difficult reality to be faced with. I'd like to think that I've been handling it all well that I've kept it together. I had one really bad day when I tried to pack my ex's closet, the closet where I put all his stuff after he left. It still smells like him. It makes me sad even to think about how much that small space feels like him and to feel how much I miss what we had when life was still ok and everything wasn't slipping away, falling apart or dying. I opened the door to pack it and I sat in there and cried for an hour or more. Not just a little bit of tears but heartwrenching sobs and I felt so sick to my stomach. It all collided with me at once. I felt winded by the blow of it.
I hate to cry but there is a beauty in sorrow. Such vulnerablity and passion. We put so much into our true sorrow; our energy, our pain, our anguish, our hopes and fears. When we are finished or exhasuted of tears then it can be such a release, a comfort. Even though I know this is a good process I still have a hard time going through it myself. I don't like to be that opened and exposed to the world around me and to myself. I like to think that I'm so strong and independent and to admit that I hurt and that I need someone else is stageringly debilitating and frustrating. I want to be connected to someone else that I love. I want to be married to have someone to witness my life and I his and to have a family, but if I failed at it once how can I trust myself to not fail agian. How we were able to hurt the one that we loved so much I'll never undestand. There are some circumstances that are forgiving and lets what happened be more acceptable. Him and his personal mental health, I can't change those things. I worry more for the part that I played because thats the only thing that I can control and change. Everyone tells me that what happened wasn't my fault and that there isn't anyone to blame for things that were out of our hands but I can't help but look back and wonder. I don't want to be the one who hurts the people that I love and care for. I don't want to fall in love or in love so hard because I don't want to be the monster that hurts someone that I care about and love so fiercly. It just seems easier not to let them in in the first place, but I cannot be alone forever but its so hard to let go and to pack up all that came before this moment in my life and to see a new sunrise on the horizin because the night was so seductive and intoxicating. I have to say good bye to the night because I have to love where there is no shadows, nothing hidden. For now though I'll sit in the closet and remember and grieve what was before tomorrow comes.
Miss M

1st Post

I think way too much. All the time everyday about random things. Most of it only makes sense to me. There are a few people who understand sometimes but they are few and far between sometimes and I wonder if this is the reason that so many people have a blog. I know I can't be the only one who feels weird and strange and different, the only one who wants to be seen and understood. That people want somewhere any where where they can stand up and be noticed. To have a podium to vent and present themselves for the world to see, acknowledge and validate in someway. It is this reason that I feel the compulsion to open myself to a world of namelss faceless strangers. I want to share parts of myself and have it be heard and hopefully understood and related to. It should be an interesting adventure and I'm very much excited to see where it leads.

Miss M