life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

Archive for the category “Relationships”

becoming

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Do you know who you are

O you forever listed
under some other heading
when you are listed at all

you whose addresses
when you have them
are never sold except
for another reason
something else that is
supposed to identify you

who carry no card
stating that you are—
what would it say you were
to someone turning it over
looking perhaps for
a date or for
anything to go by

you with no secret handshake
no proof of membership
no way to prove such a thing
even to yourselves

you without a word
of explanation
and only yourselves
as evidence

To the Happy Few by W.S. Merwin

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stuck in the blues

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I get stuck in silly things,
like rainy days
when my phone rings.
I get stuck in parking spaces,
And in hugs of biblical proportion.
I get stuck in the desperation of
empty wallets,
and gas tanks,
and stomachs.
and stalkers,
and water bills,
and all sorts of little ordinary things.
Some days I just get stuck in bed,
covers all up o’er my head,
‘I cant get up’, I tell my clock,
‘Cause I am stuck,
so just shut up.’
I get stuck when my pillow gets hot,
or when it’s cold and I cry
and ice sickles hang from my eyelashes.
I get stuck on random things,
like boots and shoes
and onion rings,
when socks don’t match,
or there’s no cream
for my coffee,
or my pie.
I get stuck
when stupid songs stick in my head –
The ones I just don’t want to sing.
I get stuck when I think about what I want,
instead of what I have.
I get stuck in ‘a few more minutes…’
or when another year goes by,
reminding me,
I might get stuck dancing…
at your wedding to someone else,
or on your grave,
or in a dream about Madonna, and bananas
and a cat who likes to pray.
I get stuck eating meatball subs,
and pumpkin muffins with extravagant amounts of butter.
Sometimes I get stuck in the blues
I know it’s sad,
yet mighty true,
the hardest times to get unstuck,
are when my mind gets stuck on you…
Stuck on you…
Stuck on you…
Yes I get stuck…
Stuck…
St…st..st…stuck on you…,

ACL 11/12/12

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Thank you, Ann Voskamp, just what I needed today 💌

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Dear Self and me and you and us,

Really, it’s all going to be okay.

You’re going to be okay.

Promise.

Remember when you were 16 with that ridiculous hair?

And how you’d thought that by the time you got to here, to now, it was going to be good? That by now everything would be all good.

That by now you’d know down in the very marrow of your bones, what it’s like to really live loved. That you’d be known. Fully known. And wholly embraced.

That the Big Dream would have happened, that the peace and the purpose and the Big Point would be under your skin, that the awkward would be gone and that you’d finally fit and that your life made a real difference, you’d made a real mark, and that you really mattered.

You don’t have to worry: We all get to make one unforgettable mark. And every day, with every word, we get to decide: Do we mar the world, or mark the world?

Why in the world disdain the small? It’s always the smallest strokes that add up to the greatest masterpieces.

Because the thing really is: Do we ever really know which mark we make — that will matter the most? The extraordinary things happen nowhere else but in the everyday and today can always be the beginning:

That card you signed and sealed and put in the mail, the way you smiled and nodded to the white-crowned woman bent over the still-green bananas, the way you dug around in the dirt and and left that seed or that gift of the knees and that prayer whispered for a stranger or that glass of water you handed to someone and winked because you just knew — You’ve got to remember: we don’t know when and how we are leaving the greatest marks on the world. It all matters.

Believe it: Every tremor of kindness might erupt in a miracle on the other side of the world.

And the only way to ever leave beauty marks on the world is with bits of yourself — and this will hurt. Things of realest beauty don’t bring us glory — but Him glory.

Dear you, and self, and me, and us, — Just For Today — take these words, words of Dag Hammarskjold,

Secretary-General of the United Nations, words that you can take to the bank, take to eternity: “It is more noble to give yourself completely to one individual than to labor diligently for … the masses.” Christ left the ninety-nine for the one.

Where you are, with that one child, that one street, that one call, it is a noble, Christ-called thing. It only takes one person to change the world — and one individual, one soul, can be all your world.

Really, beautiful You: The most exquisite marks anyone makes with their life — are the marks done in secret. The mark that no one — but One — will ever see.

And tell yourself this when you feel forgotten and invisible and unimportant: So the celebrities get their celebration here.

But the wise are the hidden who hold out for heaven — and the applause that comes from God. This is to choose the far greater.

I know you’re brave … and you’re scared. Because you keep doing big things that seems so small and you wonder where all this is really going and you only get one life here —

And though you’re weary, you do hard things and you keep getting out of bed and this is always the hardest part — and you keep believing that Christ didn’t leave this world until he showed us His scars — and He won’t ever let you leave this world until you leave your most beautiful mark. To show Him.

So Just For Today — listen: you’ve got to keep going.

His Kingdom is Upside Down and in Him your part is large and lovely and needed and art.

So go get the milk and take out the trash and throw in the laundry and wave giddy to the neighbors because there is a plan and there is a purpose and there is a God in heaven who didn’t just ink you onto the palm of His hands but etched your name right into Himself with nails and He’s hasn’t just got your number, He’s got your heart.

He sees you, hidden in Him, and you aren’t ever forgotten because God can’t forget those right in Him. You’ve never missed the boat when you’re holding onto the Cross.

So really — you’ve got to believe it for your 16 year-old-self and 56 year-old-self and for yourself right now: really, it’s all working out okay.

Because God’s writing your story and He never leaves you alone in your story, and His perfect love absorbs all your fear and His perfect grace carries all your burdens, and your story is a happily ever after because Christ bought your happily ever after so you always know how this story ends:

You’re going to be okay.

Dear Self, tuck this away to read again whenever you need to know it again — and promise me, you’ll laugh and sing and dance a bit today?

Heaven and His Kingdom and The Feast is coming! — so go ahead and pass down the fudge brownies.

Love,
Me
– Ann Voskamp
http://www.aholyexperience.com

game changer

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On this day of your life I believe God wants you to know that there’s no abiding success without commitment.

Anthony Robbins said that, and he was right.
Commitment is the key to achievement.
How committed are you to your future, to your goals,
to your relationship, to your self?

Do you want to be healthier, or do you just say you do?
Do you want to be happier, or do you just say you do?
Do you want to be nicer, or do you just say you do?
Do you want to be more patient, or do you just say you do?
Do you want to be lighter, or do you just say you do?
What do you really want…and who are you kidding about that?
– Neale Donald Walsh

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sometimes words are hard
to put together
truth all covered
under ghosts
of deeper issues
so deep
you can almost deny
you’ve gone a lifetime in denial
thoughts
sitting in the brain
all in a bunch
reflecting the cauliflower look
of the brain itself
all glowy white and gnarled
needing to stop and slow
but life goes on
and the moments are busy
no time to pause
the avoid-dance is
a wild ride
as the mass of
hurt
confusion
denial
lies
sits like a toxic blob
waiting to ooze its poison
inward
down from the brain into
all the innocents in the body
for me
the shoulder blades
take the brunt of the spillage
making them scream
night and day
while I continue
to pretend
I don’t hear them
or admit that I’m at fault
for their agony
it has taken years of excavation
to dig
to begin
to uncover
now it seems
today
I have finally reached
one of
the most important words
of life:
commitment.

ACL 1/4/13

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courage, dear heart

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If you could be soft in what you are. In what you’ve felt in the world.

If you could release, just for a moment, how he held you, or how the kids should have come home.

If you just put down the can of paint. Listen.

All along you’ve been waiting. A couple long sighs, a piece of the way things wave and you’re off.

Have you considered much what it is to sit on the lawn. What is under your fingers, what is under your hands. And how to live an agreeable life, and how much it takes in a night to get through what you must first get through in order to just sit here and be happy.

“If You Could Be Soft” by Nina Alvarez

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Sunday morning easy…😉

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the real truth of forgiveness

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Forgiving is not forgetting bad behavior,
not condoning or excusing or minimizing it,
not pretending that it didn’t hurt, that “it was nothing.”

Forgiving is not about the behavior.
It’s loving the person,
and letting nothing, even their hurtful actions,
diminish or deter your love.

Forgiving is accepting what is—
that they have wronged you—
without desire to amend that,
to get even, exact payment
or get them to see your hurt.
It is accepting that the hurt is real,
and yet your love for them, and yourself, remains.

Forgiving is accepting the person,
even with their hurtfulness,
without needing to change that.
Forgiving is accepting yourself:
allowing yourself to be hurt or wronged
without the need to correct that
to know your belovedness, dignity and worth.

Forgiving is owing and being owed nothing.
Forgiving is letting go of the past,
letting the hurt be in the past instead of the present,
choosing to stop hanging on to it, stop being chained up in it.
Forgiving is getting free.

Our forgiving blossoms from our being entirely forgiven.
We have been forgiven for deeper hurts than we ourselves forgive.
We choose to be in the heaven of infinite forgiving
rather than the hell of unfinished and never-ending resentment.
Forgiving is coming alive,
and entering into eternal life.

Forgiving is not a chore or obligation.
Forgiving is joy, freedom, compassion, and peace.
Seven times seventy times.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
http://www.unfoldinglight.net

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💞

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And now I know what most deeply connects us

after that summer so many years ago,
and it isn’t poetry, although it is poetry,

and it isn’t illness, although we have that in common,

and it isn’t gratitude for every moment,
even the terrifying ones, even the physical pain,

though we are halfway through
it, or even the way you describe the magnificence

of being alive, catching a glimpse,

in the store window, of your blowing hair and chapped lips,
though it is beautiful, it is; but it is

that you’re my friend out here on the far reaches

of what humans can find out about each other.

“Coda” by Jason Shinder

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In love’s service only the wounded soldiers can serve. – Thornton Wilder

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Dreams we can’t envision

Once there were three little trees, all with big dreams. The first tree dreamed of being carved into a beautiful and ornate treasure box that would hold the greatest treasure the world had ever seen. The second tree dreamed of being fashioned into a great ship that would sail the Seven Seas. The third tree didn’t want to leave its home on the mountaintop. “I want to grow so tall that when people stop to look at me,” he said, “they’ll raise their eyes to heaven and think of God.”
One day when the young saplings had grown into tall, strong trees, three woodcutters climbed the mountain. As they cut down the first tree, it could barely contain its excitement – it just knew it would soon fulfill its destiny. But instead of an elaborate treasure chest, workers made the tree into a plain, ordinary feedbox for farm animals. The tree felt bitterly disappointed.The second tree got made into a ship, all right – but not the kind to crest the waves of mighty oceans. It became just a simple fishing vessel, floating in a lake – not the stuff dreams are made of.
The third tree, to its horror and dismay, got chopped down, cut into wooden beams, and then left to gather dust in a lumberyard. “All I ever wanted was to stay on the mountaintop and point to God,” it moaned.
Time passed and the trees forgot their dreams, until one night when a young woman placed her baby in the animal feedbox – and the first tree knew that indeed it carried the greatest treasure on earth.
Another night, a tired man and his friends crowded into the little fishing boat. They got halfway across the lake when a terrible storm blew in, threatening to tear the boat to pieces. The tired man stood up and said, “Peace, be still.” The second tree knew then that it was carrying the king of heaven and earth.
One Friday morning the third tree felt itself yanked from the woodpile and dragged through city streets, where crowds shouted insults. The tree felt cruel and ugly when it realized it had become an instrument of torture. Soldiers nailed a man’s hands and feet to its beams, as the tree cried in shame. But on Sunday morning, when the sun rose and the earth trembled with joy, the tree stood tall, finally knowing that from now on, it would be the tree on the mountaintop, forever pointing people to God.
-traditional folk tale
as told in, God Loves Broken People, Sheila Walsh

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The power of suffering to create beauty in your life lies almost entirely with you, in how you chose to react to the difficulties and even catastrophes that invade your life.
– Sheila Walsh

God’s kind, gentle love is not the sentimental, sappy variety…Instead, this love is strong. This love is a fierce love, a positive force that conquers sin, evil, and death. It is the burning passion to overcome evil with good. It is steadfast commitment to the ultimate, highest good of another – even if that other is one’s enemy. It is a love that does not put self or stuff at the center of life, but gives itself away with joyful abandon. It is a love so secure in another that it loses its life for others, only to find its life again.
– Richard J. Vincent

best friends

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Assume it’s in the kitchen,
under the couch, high
in the pine tree out back,
behind the paint cans
in the garage. Don’t try
proving your love
is bigger than the Grand
Canyon, the Milky Way,
the urban sprawl of L.A.
Take it for granted. Take it
out with the garbage. Bring
it in with the takeout. Take
it for a walk with the dog.
Wake it every day, say,
“Good morning.” Then
make the coffee. Warm
the cups. Don’t expect much
of the day. Be glad when
you make it back to bed.
Be glad he threw out that
box of old hats. Be glad
she leaves her shoes
in the hall. Snow will
come. Spring will show up.
Summer will be humid.
The leaves will fall
in the fall. That’s more
than you need. We can
love anybody, even
everybody. But you
can love the silence,
sighing and saying to
yourself, “That’ s her.”
“That’s him.” Then to
each other, “I know!
Let’s go out for breakfast!”

“Take Love for Granted” by Jack Ridl

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