To surrender is to slip into sleep
Dreams glide sweetly and deep
To surrender is to lose a battle
Grace after loss tests my mettle
To surrender is to give up control
Trust another with all in my soul
To surrender is never easy
A chore for someone like me
The thought always makes me queasy
But in the end, it is sweet liberty
As I Join You
I didn't plan to fail
binge til drunk
on my own blubbering tears
Robin William hung himself
from a doorknob with just his own weight
shake my hand
as I join you.
the thing about baggage is that it travels very well,
and along its many journeys, it writes stories it can tell.
as carefully as you pack it up
it often becomes messy;
things do not remain where they were when you got them ready.
the thing about baggage is that the cleaner that you keep it
the lesser that it's traveled and the longer that you need it.
as time and distance weather it,
your baggage becomes lighter;
you learn to travel with your needs and not to pack the bothers.
you will notice that with your baggage that the farther that it's carried,
the kind of things you keep inside will begin to vary,
maybe it can contain less,
maybe it grows stronger,
maybe it has lost a wheel and can't be pulled much longer.
maybe you're late to your flight when your baggage just bursts open,
and all the things you worked so hard to pack away showing,
you quickly pick your baggage up,
you feel like you're embarrassed,
but you're not the only person in the airport to unintentionally bare it.
the other thing about our baggage is that it's not ours on our own,
we let our loved ones take the handle when we are heading home,
and strangers sometimes take our baggage
to places where we can't see it
we may not know the reason or know how they're going to treat it.
at times we lose a piece of what we kept inside our suitcase,
sometimes that item being lost forces you into a new place,
unprepared and overwhelmed
in foreign territories,
take that weathered, messy baggage and keep writing its stories.
To surrender is to let go,
To give up the need to be in control,
To release the tight grip on our fears and doubts.
It is to admit our vulnerability,
To give up our need to be right,
And to open our hearts to the unknown.
Surrender is a willingness to let go of our past,
To step into the present moment
And to trust that the future will unfold
In the way that is best for us.
It is a willingness to be open to change,
To let go of our old ways of thinking and being,
And to allow the universe to guide us
In the direction of our highest good.
Surrender is a state of grace,
A moment of peace in the midst of chaos,
A breath of fresh air in the midst of turmoil.
It is a reminder that we are not in control,
That life is unfolding in its own unique way,
And that all we can do is let go and trust.
Santa Walks Next Year
Among the local people, the weight of the past few weeks could be seen on their faces. What could have happened to the plan that had been put in place? It was supposed to be a simple Christmas parade and street bazaar but something had gone terribly wrong. What an epic fail that had been! The first reports to come in said that the man seemed drunk. This however, proved not to be true and it didn’t go over very well with the townsfolk. Trying to shake out a logical explanation from the man at the time was not possible. All he could do was slump to the ground beside the wreckage like rolls of blubber. He was supposed to be Santa, not a crazy man on a murderous binge! All those poor reindeer would never pull the leigh again. Santa ran over his reindeer, how ironic.
"I pity those who are not afraid. Because how do they know they are brave? The subtlety of fear is a kind of spell cast by our minds reminding us how imperfect we are. How vulnerable we are, in our human cages. Where we try to fight but we are neither strong nor weak. Just brave. So how do we know we are brave if we are not afraid?"
And so the cycle continues,
Because I never learn.
Another project or task,
So simple and easy to follow,
Yet also so easy to forget,
So easy to fail.
The weight of expectations,
The feeling of eyes, always watching,
Continues to hang over me
Every move, every mistake,
Every frustrated defeat.
It only adds to my own judgement
Of myself, of my work.
The bed and its sheets,
Thick as blubber,
Attempts at luring me into sleep.
With a shake of the head,
The thought, like a marble,
Rolls out of my mind.
I continue to work until the darkness
And the sheet swallow me whole.
I must get drunk off this feeling.
Why else would I continue
To keep myself from production,
And then binge the night before
An assignment is due?
It's better than waiting for sleep.
And so the cycle continues,
Because I cannot learn.
I'm not sure who is looking back in the mirror at me
staring, so blankly, right in front of me
listen, you can hear her breath
so close, looking a mess
the freckles on her nose are faint
angle kisses, they call them, but she ain't no saint
powerful, this feeling of powerlessness
like the cards were dealt and you're left with hopelessness
the knot in my chest, pulling tighter
really, I thought I was a fighter
disappointing, that's what you are
thought you were gonna go so far
depression? no. depressing? yes.
all of the tears, I repress
a song, a movie, a spot of wine
completely appropriate to cry
anything else? it's not ok
for that's a sign you're not ok
want to scream want to shout
but inside, the throat's a drought
it's not a dream
it's the self-esteem
it's all ego
hard to let it go
look again, in the reflection
all I see is what lacks affection
all those dreams and none of them pipe
now, like the reflection is a daguerreotype
nothing but the image
nothing but the shape
all form no matter
and so, what is the matter?
what is hard in this present moment
and what is so difficult of this bestowment
this gift of divine charity
not so divine, even in memory
for this bestowment can only be granted
if these thoughts go unplanted
surrender the mind, surrender the thoughts
let go of all that is fraught
battle the fret with love and care
even if there's not much flare
listen inside, the solutions are there
every time you lack some air
Under the spotlight she stands
The audience cheers, awaiting
Forgotten dreams and empty hands
No strength left for daring
Familiar shadows lurk
Echos of paralyzing ambition
Knees-down on a spiraling stage
Nothing but blurry vision
Arms weak, thoughts clouded
No words to speak except 'sorry'
Turned away and broken-hearted
Drowning in what once was glory
Under the spotlight, she fell
The audience cheers, awaiting
She sinks into their voices
Surrendering to hell
I always have a plan
because making decisions is too much weight
to place on my shoulders and mind
I've drunk water
but not enough
and once again my throat's dry
wanna hang out? come over, please,
so I can isolate myself in your presence
and feel more disconnected than ever
If I could only eat those little crescent bread rolls
and chocolate and pieces of cake
and read novels forever
but my body needs more
and it would all be better if I could make myself
cry ugly, blubber messy on the floor
I binge on distraction
to forget the nothingness
and that's the only reason I want more
just to stop the wanting
so I shake my hands and sigh and fail
and it's not enough