March 8, 2011
“I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till I drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.”

The title is a quote from my dream man (if only he was still alive), Jack Kerouac. I sometimes find that this quote sums up my entire state of being most of the time. I get inspired about 100 times a day, and I let a handful of those inspirations consume me. Sometimes this is a wonderful thing, sometimes it only leads to confusion. Do you ever have those moments where you can’t explain the feeling in your heart? Now, I have a problem expressing those feelings, and writing helps, but sometimes it takes more to really be free- 

I have said time and time again that all I want in life is to be at peace. I have to tell myself to stop looking to the past or the future for this peace. And be in the present moment. This moment. No other. I have realized though that no matter how many times you tell yourself something, practicing it is a different story. 

I subscribe to elephant journal, a great source for inspiration on living a mindful life. I spend most mornings with a cup of coffee or chai and read some of my favorites, as well as other articles that peak my interest. I came across an article by Kim Roberts titled, Three Reasons Why I Am Not Married. It really spoke to me because I can relate to all three reasons, and although I am only an early twenty-something, this questions weighs on my mind. I have been in a relationship with a man I thought everything of, and then a wave of despair came crashing down and the debris is hard, almost too hard, to pick up. I am not sure I believe in the love my great-grandparents had anymore, but I want to. Yet, I can’t help but think we may only have a Mr. Right for this moment, not a Mr. Right for forever. And maybe that is okay? Is that a part of living in the present? I wrote in an earlier post, the nature of love, that I just don’t think love is valued anymore. This is circumstantial and of course doesn’t apply to some of those lucky ones. So, today while I was reading Robert’s blog, Diary of a Pilgrim, her post Beyond Hope and Fear resonated with me. 

I am content right now. At this very moment, and that is all I need. 

Namaste-

11:24am  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Z7s9Xy3U08-m
Filed under: jack kerouac yoga elephant journal inspiration quotes marriage love 
December 28, 2010
the nature of love.

I love the idea of love, but I sometimes lose faith and wonder if it really exists (anymore). The kind of love that my great grandparents shared. I think the focus of love has become so blurry and obscured that people believe that love is dispensable. Now I don’t believe that you should hold on to a lost love, and face it love does become lost sometimes and heartaches will inevitably occur. And that is the beauty of it as well. Working through the hardships and nurturing each others hearts is what love means. It isn’t supposed to be easy, but it isn’t supposed to be that hard either. There is a time to let go, but more importantly, there is a time to hold on and stay grounded. People are too easily detoured. 

Here is one of my favorite love poems by e.e. cummings 

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)


8:47pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Z7s9Xy2LOPBh
Filed under: love personal poetry e.e. cummings 
August 31, 2010

3:40pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Z7s9Xy_ETPX
(Notes: 232)
  
Filed under: love 
August 25, 2010
beautiful portray.

beautiful portray.

8:28pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Z7s9XyyJZMD
(Notes: 195)
  
Filed under: love 
August 2, 2010

The Archipelago of Kisses

We live in a modern society. Husbands and wives don’t
grow on trees, like in the old days. So where
does one find love? When you’re sixteen it’s easy,
like being unleashed with a credit card
in a department store of kisses. There’s the first kiss.
The sloppy kiss. The peck.
The sympathy kiss. The backseat smooch. The we
shouldn’t be doing this kiss. The but your lips
taste so good kiss. The bury me in an avalanche of tingles kiss.
The I wish you’d quit smoking kiss.
The I accept your apology, but you make me really mad
sometimes kiss. The I know
your tongue like the back of my hand kiss. As you get
older, kisses become scarce. You’ll be driving
home and see a damaged kiss on the side of the road,
with its purple thumb out. If you
were younger, you’d pull over, slide open the mouth’s
red door just to see how it fits. Oh where
does one find love? If you rub two glances, you get a smile.
Rub two smiles, you get a warm feeling.
Rub two warm feelings and presto-you have a kiss.
Now what? Don’t invite the kiss over
and answer the door in your underwear. It’ll get suspicious
and stare at your toes. Don’t water the kiss with whiskey.
It’ll turn bright pink and explode into a thousand luscious splinters,
but in the morning it’ll be ashamed and sneak out of
your body without saying good-bye,
and you’ll remember that kiss forever by all the little cuts it left
on the inside of your mouth. You must
nurture the kiss. Turn out the lights. Notice how it
illuminates the room. Hold it to your chest
and wonder if the sand inside hourglasses comes from a
special beach. Place it on the tongue’s pillow,
then look up the first recorded kiss in an encyclopedia: beneath
a Babylonian olive tree in 1200 B.C.
But one kiss levitates above all the others. The
intersection of function and desire. The I do kiss.
The I’ll love you through a brick wall kiss.
Even when I’m dead, I’ll swim through the Earth,
like a mermaid of the soil, just to be next to your bones. 


Jeffrey McDaniel

9:55am  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Z7s9XyrG6wf
Filed under: love poetry Jeffrey McDaniel 
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