I Am That....and So Are You

"Oh how you've changed"

Why, you're so sweet 

To notice how 

I've turned, complete 

A three-sixty,

One-eighty, too,

And still more turning

Left to do 

I won't be still

I can't be claimed

By notions formed

When I was named 

I'm more than that - 

A title's just 

A word to hail

This living dust

No, I'm much more

Than just a word -

Come closer and

Be enraptured

By all the Beauty,

Joy, and Grace

That lies within

This sacred space 

For I Am That,

Divinity.

It shines forever 

Here in me.

Yes, I Am Sun;

And Sky, so blue;

And Earth, and Stars;

And so are you 

Ready, Set...

Read, set, and here I go

To face another day

With only my own hand to hold

To chase the clouds away

Won’t have another by my side

To keep my demons back

No, I won’t have a lover to

Fill me up when I lack

I’ll be alone inside myself,

My only company

But solitude gives me the chance

To get to know.. well, Me.

My own heart has been long ignored

By my own brain - too long!

I’ve gotten to know others, but

forsook my own sweet song

I cannot carry on like this,

Not knowing who I am

For far too long I’ve only glimpsed

And guessed at who I’ve been

But now I guess I get the chance

To take a long hard look

At the girl behind the glass-

The woman I forsook

So ready, set, and here I come;

I’m just around the bend

I’ll get to know my Self again

I’ll be my own best friend

Journy

Musings of a Poet

Sometimes I wonder what I’m gonna write

I have no idea most the time

Thus is the artist’s, the songwriter’s plight:

Will this be a story, or rhyme?

Will my words have meaning?

Will anyone read these syllables here on the page?

And, if the do, will they call me a fool?

Or perhaps will they think me a sage?

Do I even bother to finish this poem?

Perhaps I will stop; start again

And then, when I finish, when all is complete

Honestly, truly - what then?

Does my life go on as it has all these years?

Will something about it be new?

Will my days cease to matter - will they start again?

Tomorrow, will sky still be blue?

What is the point, I find myself ponder

With every strike of the key:

If nothing here changes, no mystery solved,

What then is the point? Can you tell me?

Sometimes I go over the words that I write

And fuss at each line’s counted time

“This one’s not perfect; no that one’s not right;

“Ugh, that one does not even rhyme!”

And even just now, as I make my own fun

At the words that I seem to think lack,

I can’t help myself, it just has to be done -

Already twice I’ve gone back

To fix and to fuss at the words that I’ve writ

Right here on this fantasy page

Perhaps it is true: I am really a fool…

But then, who decides who’s a sage?

Those who have the ears to hear...

If life is but a dream, and everything’s a song

Then why on earth would we think that there’s something right or wrong

With anything we say, or anything we do

How could we think that anything could be claimed “false” or “true”

Within some that will read this, my words will resonate

And beautif‘ly in others it will fill them with red hate

But red is just a color - it’s neither good or bad

And maybe to a special few the color red is sad

So listen not to others, who tell you how to feel

Please! not even Journy, Who is saying “it’s not real”!

Listen to your own heart - it leads you true and strong

For really it’s the chaos that gives beauty to a song.

The Truth Stings

This weekend I had the blessed opportunity to go camping with my family (all but my eldest, who of course was with us in spirit <3).  There were many things that made this trip “blessed”: we were blessed to camp at a beautiful site right beside a gorgeous lake; we were blessed by the neat structure a previous camper had built around the firepit to shelter our fire from wind; we were blessed by the copious amounts of spiders, who kept the lakeside mosquitos to a record low for our camping history; we were blessed by the awesome tree across the lake that my husband said looked “magical”, like something the Toll House elves might live in.

The blessing that stood out to me the most, however, was an experience I had that reminded me of something I’ve known for a good while, that I literally got to see put into play…

I got stung.

I was sitting in my camping chair, working on a creative project, when I suddenly felt a little sting as I moved my leg.  I jumped; there was something in my pant leg.

Panic overtook me, I’ll admit, and my “no kill” philosophy toward insects - as with all life - went flying out the window as I smacked my hand down on the affected area to squish whatever had just attacked me.  

Breathing a sigh of relief, I went to remove it by way of widening my pant leg… when the little bugger stung me again! This time much harder!  

I literally yelled out as I balled up the culprit in the material of my yoga pants, keeping it firmly in my fist (even as it stung me one more time, on my thumb) and I literally yanked my pants completely off of my lower body.  And it took quite a bit of yanking, too - the fistful of pants tightened the entire left leg around my actual leg, making it quite difficult to remove.

Finally the pants were off and I stood bare-assed for the world to see (fortunately ONLY the World COULD see, hahaha) as I searched my now-inside-out leggins for the offender…..

.

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This.

That’s right.  That.

That little piece of jagged plastic is what caused the swollen ‘stings’ you saw at the beginning of this post.  

I had been SO CONVINCED that it was an insect that had jabbed me - and NOT a piece of otherwise harmless plastic - that my brain flooded the jab-sites on my leg, and the one on my thumb, with antihistamines, causing all three tiny wounds to swell dramatically (I say dramatically because, for 3 plastic-pokes, it was exactly that: dramatic).

My brain - dear, sweet, well-meaning brain - took my cues of “Oh shit it’s a bug!” and reacted accordingly.  

My brain - wonderful, loving, gullible brain - listened to my conscious concerns, and took the action that best alleviated those concerns.

My amazing, intelligent brain… acted pretty stupidly

…...because I told it to.

In this case, my instructions were incredibly unintentional.  But then… so many of the instructions we relay to our brains are unintentional.  Nevertheless, our wonderful brains listen, despite having more operating power than the most advanced of supercomputers, to what we mere mortals ACCIDENTALLY tell them to do.

So what, then, can we convince them to do on purpose??

I could go on and on about this, but something is telling me to leave it there, and when that ‘something’ talks, I listen… just as my brain listens to me.

-Journy

Demo Reel 1

My first ever completed Demo Reel... exciting!!
I wrote and directed (and of course acted in) both scenes, as well as the song the montage is set to.  I’m also thrilled to say I wasn’t wearing makeup in 5 out of 6 of the photos at the end :)

GOD IS GOOD! Thank you, Source Creator, for the blessings and guidance you have bestowed upon me 💜💛💜🙏🏻🙌🏻💪🏻🎤😊

10,000 Women - an Original Song by Journy

I had no idea when this song first began to “come in through the static”, if you will, that it would hold so much significance in my life. Truly I have watched my life move through ups and downs that would have destroyed an earlier version of myself.  SO grateful am I for each challenge... and for the joys and peace I have experienced in moving through each.

Thanks Be to GOD for every moment.  Thanks Be to my sweet and patient husband.  As the song says, “Thank you for loving me.”

Acting Reel (part 1)

I officially have video 1 of ?? for my acting reel :) ngl, I’m super proud of it :)

Do Not Face The Dragon

Do not face the dragon

Turn around and run

For it’s in the running that your journey has begun 

Don’t look o’er your shoulder;

You will find what you seek 

If you can’t resist it then your future will be bleak

There’s no use in turning

To see if it pursues

It does, and if you take the time to check, you’ll surely lose

Keep your eyes turned forward 

For only up ahead

Will you find the peace of mind that brings you joy instead 

Do not face the dragon

That’s breathing down your back 

The only way you’ll get away is run - do not look back

My Dream

Like the great Martin Luther King(jr), I have a dream.

I dream of a time that men and women walk down alleys at night, unafraid of the shadows which lurk within.

I dream of a day when race isn’t mentioned at the beginning of a story... of a day that race - a social construct at its core - ceases to exist, and the color varieties of our skin is celebrated as nothing more or less than beautiful & unique.

I dream of a time when food, shelter, clothing, and medical care are viewed as basic human rights.

I dream of a time when medical autonomy is valued from birth, and the decisions one makes for their own care are protected as rights.

I dream that bodily autonomy is taught to all of our young people, as soon as they are old enough to speak.

I dream of a day that femininity is celebrated, and “You have a lot of feminine traits,” is a sentence that needs no follow-up.

I dream of a time that higher education is offered freely, because an educated people a healthy people.  I dream the people are free to pursue their passions, be it art, parenthood, or higher education, because they know their survival is ensured.  

I dream of the day when peoples around the world join hands in peace, and in love.  I dream of the day that our children can play in solidarity and safety.

I dream of ONE DAY - and ONE DAY is beautiful.

ONE DAY is here... you need only allow it. 

I release. I surrender. I allow. I accept.

And So It Is. Amen.

Speaking With GOD

Do you speak to me like you speak to GOD?

Those words hit me like an AK-47. I’ll be honest, I don’t even know what the lyrics before or after were; I was so lost in what I was doing (dancing to the music, cleaning house, getting sippy cups) that when these words hit me with such intensity, I knew GOD was speaking directly to me.  

At first my mind went to the people in my life who I’ve perceived to have done me wrong, but even as I did so I could feel the subtle Voice of Source Creator settle into my heart.  “No,” it whispered, “this is for you.”  Eyes widening, I considered the question in a knew way: do I speak to others the way I speak to GOD?

Well... not always.

The thought was humbling.  Here I am, a professor of Love and seeker of Truth, acknowledging that We Are all beautiful fractals of our Creator GOD... and speaking to my fellow Light Beings as though they were ‘mere mortals’, as it were.  What an injustice to them! ...what an injustice to myself.

As a fellow God or Goddess incarnate, every single person I have ever spoken to is a part of me. When I speak to them, I speak to myself.  Hell, when I think of them, I think of myself. And words, thoughts, emotions, etc, are nothing more than energy.... so what energy have I been plugging into the incomprehensible entity that is The Universe? 

The truth is, we’ve all done it.  Someone says or does something that causes emotions to rise up, and it’s easy to lose ourselves in that.  Speaking - or thinking - kindly becomes the farthest thing from our mind as we release the current that we feel is ‘justly deserved’.  But would we speak that way to GOD?  Would we do so even in His presence?

Far be it from me to answer for you. I’ve already admitted that I am far from perfect in this matter - and not just people who have ‘done me wrong’ (though truthfully, that will always be a matter of perception): my friends, my husband, my children, random strangers I’ve only briefly interacted with... the list goes on.  Not even the dearest people to me have been spared from at least the occasional grumbling thought, or cross word.  And that is definitely not how I speak to GOD.

That changes now.  In this moment, as I write these words to you, I commit myself to change.  Like riding a bike, I will get back up any time I fall short of this goal, until my words, my tone, my every thought directed at any one or thing reflects the GOD essence that I know they ARE.  

And so it is.

Breadcrumbs and Blessings

I read a meme the other day that I couldn’t help but laugh at as I nodded agreement. Still chuckling, I read it to my husband: “Have you ever met someone who is just the human form of breadcrumbs in bed?”

He didn’t get it.  “Breadcrumbs?” I pressed.  “You know, when you’re eating in bed and get breadcrumbs in the sheets?  How annoying that is?”

“Oh.”

Just “oh”? Alright, well, whatever, I thought.  I didn’t quite get how he didn’t ‘get it’, but I shrugged and moved on.

This morning it hit me.

I have absolutely no idea what inspired this train of thought - well, yes I do (Thank you, Source Creator!) - but today as I was listening to a podcast I realized... he didn’t get it, because he perceived things differently (there’s that word again...).

Like squirrels, there is nothing about bed breadcrumbs that could be considered malicious. They just are what they are.  Furthermore, they are the result of something positive: the meal I just enjoyed from the comfort of my own bed.  

How often do we do that - focus solely on what we perceive to be the negative aspects of our many blessings?  ‘Never mind the awesome house and yard I have... that neighbor 😒’  ‘Forget the delicious meal my partner just made... look at all these dishes I have to do now!’ ‘Ugh, this traffic is just awful (as I drive my gorgeous, brand new car to work)!’  The list goes on.

Months ago I had a dream that I didn’t understand.  Strung over the middle of a large, deep pool was a net, and on that net were several drawstring purses filled with gold coins.  I knew intrinsically that one of the purses was for me, so I swam over, climbed onto the net, and chose mine.  When I got into the water to swim back, however, the purse around my neck began to weigh me down, pulling me deeper toward the bottom of the pool.  Panicking, and justifying my next action with “the Universe will provide more”, I tossed the purse aside and shot back to the surface, gasping for air when I reemerged. 

As I stated before, I didn’t understand the meaning of that dream... I do now.  In fact, it now seems so obvious that I can’t help wondering why I didn’t get it before.

Blessings don’t come as simple, solely pleasurable events.  They are complex, often needing what you might perceive as negative things/people/etc to exist at all.  If we allow ourselves to get caught up in the ‘weight’ of what is otherwise a beautiful treasure, we will find ourselves being dragged to the bottom of our pool.  Or worse, tossing aside the priceless blessings the Universe has so generously bestowed upon us. 

And the Universe will provide more... in such a way that mirrors the perfection of Source Creator.  You see, we are loved - so loved - and Creator wants nothing more than our greatest happiness.  Well, if we weren’t happy with what was just given us... why would we be happy with more of the same? 

The answer is, we wouldn’t. And until we learn to appreciate fully the nature of our blessings (because everything is a blessing), we will never be given more.  Well, I suppose that’s not entirely true; we will always be given more... of what we already have.

How wonderful that is!, especially when you truly understand it:

More grumbling will bring more things/events/people intended to teach us gratitude.... and more gratitude will bring more to be grateful for.

More selfish action or mindset will bring about more poverty, creating the opportunity to truly appreciate the generosity of others... and more generosity will bring about more opportunities for giving.

And viewing people as ‘breadcrumbs in bed’ will bring more opportunities to learn patience, understanding, and acceptance.

But of course it is that way; how else could we grow? How else could we ever aspire to become anything more than the ego-driven creatures we have been conditioned to believe We Are?  That is the lie we must cast off, not the blessings we have received

So the next time we find ourselves nit-picking at strings, I pray we can take a moment to remember the gifts they are attached to.  Maybe then we’ll find that our gold-filled purses were never intended to drag us into the water... they were meant to help us walk on it. 

My Squirrel

That’s what I’ve lovingly dubbed my husband.

If that doesn’t make sense, allow me to explain:

Squirrels - you know those fuzzy little creatures with the bushy tails that frequent the trees in your backyard - are Nature’s little mess-makers.  

They don’t mean anything by it.  There’s no malice, no ill-intent, nothing like that... they just discard what they’re holding once they’re done with it because, well, they’re squirrels. And what exactly would a squirrel do with it (whatever “it” is), anyway?

Well my husband - who is the kindest, sweetest, smartest, hardest working, most amazing person I have ever been blessed to know - is a squirrel.

When we first got together, as one often does in a new relationship, I found this little quirk of his endearing.  Time and life clouded that sentiment, though, and over the last several months I have found myself grumbling more and more at his “squirreling”.  What I realized today, however, is just where the fault lies... and it’s not with him.

Just as Nature’s squirrels are not malicious in their mess-making, neither is mine; it’s just who he IS.  Once upon a time I accepted him - ALL of him.... so why the change?

Because I started perceiving things differently.

Perception is incredibly powerful.  One of my favorite quote, from RA Salvatore’s book, The Servant of the Shard, illustrates this perfectly: “Do keep ever present in your thoughts, my friend, that an illusion can kill you if you believe in it.”

This applies to relationships, as well, as I have so aptly learned.

By allowing myself to become caught up in illusion (“He’s making my job harder! If he cared...blah blah blah”) I had essentially been spoon-feeding my marriage cyanide.  I had become so caught up in the extra five minutes it took to clean up after him, and the grudge that came with it, that I let what I once viewed as a cute quirk worthy of a nickname become a thorn in my side.

And for what?  He never asked me to clean up his mess.  He didn’t expect it, or view housework as my job; he’s told me time and time again that, while he’s grateful for the housework I do, being a mom is all that he expects of me.  “If I come home and the house is a mess, but the kids are fed and taken care of, I’m happy,” are words he has repeated to me so many times you’d think I’d have them memorized (oh wait, I do...).  Plus, he’s a great housekeeper himself... and if it gets messy enough he will absolutely pick up a broom (seriously, fellow stay-at-home’s, try this one out.  They will ABSOLUTELY reach their limit and do it themselves, lol. Whether their limit matches yours, though.... well that’s a topic for another blog 😂).

So why have I taken such a damaging approach to such a benign behavior?  This is a question I’ve had to ask myself, and honestly... I got nothin’.

What I do have, is the power - and the will - to “make a new choice” (thank you, Iyanla Vanzant).  And I choose to remember.

I remember that the mess on the counter is the result of the work he just did for me - for our family.

I remember that he did that work, and does ALL that he does, because he loves us and wants to take care of us.

And I remember the reason I started cleaning up after him in the first place: I love him, and I know he genuinely enjoys walking into a well-kept home.

So squirrel away, my darling.  I don’t mind.