if we; even though; i am

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if we leave out or exclude, because they aren’t blood. 

i am thankful to be learning about 100% inclusion. 

if we shame or scold because they aren’t saved. 

i am thankful that maybe the peace i receive from my relationship with my Creator could help someone else experience peace too: even if, even though.

if we back down or stay silent because we don’t want to rock anything even if the side of love is tipping it all in the way of safety.

i am thankful that there is an anchor for all of it, always.

if we forget to say it, if we want to leave it behind, and step fully into wholeness of healing, but waves of fear keep us timid. 

i am thankful for healing, in all ways, in all its own timing, in all days.

i we have more than enough but our plans get spoiled by the inconvenience. 

i am thankful for abundance and leaning into the uncomfortable ways in which i can learn to give more always.

if we experience differently by the sheer truth that our cells do not rage with pain- unfelt because of the side of history, unaware of inequalities, no fear because we have been sheltered from it. 

i am thankful that my ignorance is being shattered. i am thankful to unlearn my viewpoint, and relearn that my privilege isn’t something i can dismiss without causing pain to those i love. 

if we feel we are less, have less, deserve more, expect more because it isn’t fair. 

i am thankful that my brain is seeking, still seeking to notice this narrative and distrust it with every ounce of equality i can muster. i am thankful that the bitter is softened with the sweet. i am thankful for the seasons, the changing of the skies, to show me that we are always moving. i am thankful that i believe we can live them, these seasons, together, going forward, with compromise, hard work, and shared pieces of apple pie. i am thankful that even if this holiday is sweet and hard, i have hope that we see each other, reach out, teach more: of sharing, of past sacrifices, of past pains that need to be healed still, and that most importantly, we can eat together. ONE table, ONE shared meal of grateful grace, even with its flaws, even with, even because of : if we, even if, 

i am thankful. 

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the crooked symphony

IMG_4661each flower is not perfect and yet we do not point out their flaws.

and each tree does not grow straight –

yet

we curl up in their shade not caring their species but just that they give us respite

why therefore do we nominate certain people or places or things,

to become the center of our worlds?

when in fact

we all

they all

each of us

have petals and bark, roots and stems, leaves and shade

for all to appreciate :: enjoy :: care for – just the same?

our forest is lush with variety, our fields ripe with individualism

sustaining wonderful sounds

producing healing scents

magnificent landscapes

for us ALL.

let us enjoy that symphony

that color show

that splendor!

the world would be a blank, boring canvas without each flower and tree

(each/us) just as we were made.

not just some but ALL

no matter your roots, the shade of your leaves, not what makes you come alive, whether your petals stand straight or sway toward the sunlight –

will ever separate you from our shared wild love here on earth

we are each a masterpiece

let us love as one symphony of roots, petals, buds, leaves.

let us

be revered as equals

no exceptions.

much love wild ones,

b

i don’t have enough

 

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love is lavishing.

i don’t ever have enough for all of you. but collectively Someone does. let’s seek out that Someone.

let’s put each other in the path of healing and nod approval to our fear-busting chops, that we together can fight this pain. this  brokenness. this inertia toward unrest.

collectively, WE can be enough for each other. WE need one commonality. WE need LOVE.

you don’t need to know what i believe in to love me, nor i to love you.

we ALL bleed red when oxygen hits, we ALL have blue veins underneath our skin.

we have the most unique pigments to our skin, that scars when it heals, and sweats when it’s too hot.

WE are the SAME bones, with various patterns and layers upon us.

THAT IS IT. please stop telling me that i cannot take care of you because of my differences.

I WANT TO LIVE MY LIFE AS I LOVE MY NEIGHBOR.

alive and without abandon.

let us move beyond the sludge of labels, of greed, of proving something to anyone. let us prove we can love our neighbor as ourselves. let us start by dropping our ‘better than’ labels, and start with the lonely, the orphaned, the needy.

in return for your sacrifice you will be infiltrated with joy. you may try to fight it off. you are just doing the ‘right thing’ you say.

but you aren’t. YOU ARE DOING WHAT COMES BY INSTINCT.

JOY IS JUST THE ADDED BONUS.

you are LIVING. we are MADE to be LIVING TOGETHER, one with each other. that’s why sports games that are nail biters are catalysts for fist bumping. it’s not because we are the actual batter or referee or coach, but we feed off of the energy:

just like church when we raise our hands in worship.

exactly like the sway you start, unknowingly, alongside your favorite crooner, their guts toppling out under pyrotechnics.

mirrored in an art installation that instantly makes you weep, or boil with anger.

public outcry means

we are not de-sensitized like

the Hungry Hippo of They

say we are.

you know why? the THEY is made up of us.

so let’s stop the madness of US verses THEM.

THEY:

your neighbor. the one who insists that they’re fine, who deals alone with a sick parent, and craves a short respite from the worry.

THEY :

exhausted, overwhelmed new mom who “should” be happy but can’t seem to stop crying and is afraid she will hurt herself.

THEY:

frightened young teen who does not know where their next meal will come from from, but thinks hunger will be less painful than remaining in abuse and chooses to run.

our THEY is the collective.

WE have to start taking better care of THEM.

because regardless of our ‘busy’ … man, woman, child …  we need EACH OTHER to survive.

busy is bullshit.

LOVE IS LAVISHING.

let’s start living like we mean it.

let’s stop pretending that making our pockets deeper or more fashionable will make our hearts bulletproof to LIFE and it’s CITIZENS.

i may sound angry, but I’m not. I AM JUST WAKING UP TO WHAT MATTERS TO ME.

it’s going to be a tough road of learning, but i’d rather be about YOU and THEY than about me.

i can’t function alone, and i’m guessing that a potluck, party of 1, seems kind of stale.

let’s celebrate THRIVING and dig deeper. i know we can heal us TOGETHER.

party’s at my house.

oxox,

b

joy :: day two :: in the details

photo (18)oftentimes i am too busy for the details.

my brain gets mushed into thinking that everything on the news is the only news.

sluggishly moping along

like there is no good out there.

no sparkle.

no triumph.

no joy.

i wander in and out of a pessimistic haze, unsure of my faith, too much noise,

too much hurt – intense pain for those whom i cannot help. i get depressed.

it happens more than it should to be honest.

regardless of my brain’s chemistry, i want to know more JOY.

i have more than enough love, experiences & laughter in my life to know anything but happiness.

i know my faith SHOULD be stronger than my worries, my fears, mine (others’) pain.

i know i am not alone in this warp of too much.

i cannot control everything that happens to me, only my attitude toward it.

most days, it only lasts a few minutes, maybe an hour.

then:

something miraculous happens: i notice the joy.

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i become engaged in being ALIVE THAT VERY MOMENT.

i pick up the details, i smell, i touch, i seek.

i am reminded that i have been given the gift of life every day that i wake up,

i need to grab hold of it with everything i’ve got.

i must seek the joy i want to wear.

hot diggity damn do i want to wear it out!

we’ve got one life folks, what message are we trying to sell, problem are we trying to fix?

what if we really LIVED in the moment, became happy to have BREATH, and sought joy in every turn?

we would hear joy, be joy, see joy, envelope the world in joy.

let’s find our joy, SEEK IT OUT. now go!

joy :: day one :: at the table

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are we not like the earth?

the green easing into the brown?

the blue jutting against the reds, the wet rejoicing loudly against the parched?

are our souls not like the earth serged together,

as a weird, ever-changing topography entrapped with unexplainables & iridescence?

we cannot allow the distance of miles or the threat of difference

escape our very beings

of barefoot & proud

laced up & weak

regal & broken into

we are something beautiful.

we are one of each other

& of us.

your brother’s keeper is you.

your sister’s protector is us.

do you realize that the sand you throw

in the fight against our neighbor gets in your eyes too?

do we care?

we cannot hold out on love any longer.

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just as our sphere of weird & lovely, we create a masterpiece.

one of flavors, chock full of the unexpected & the radiant.

joy is realized together, as we congregate around:

a meal

chop, dice, sear – whatever.

let’s each bring our ingredient,

who doesn’t enjoy a table of stories?

who doesn’t long for recipes?

our ingredients count.

what traditions make (made) us

who we see (saw),

what we hear (heard).

we cannot blend enough.

because in the process of the boil,

of the stewing, we are one feast.

we are love.

everyone is different – on purpose.

differences to share.

our adobe oven accepts everyone the same.

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we are naturally like the earth yes, all the mountains, valleys, flatlands, tundras.

we are the yolks, we all can be the sous chefs.

bring your bowls.

put on your appetites.

let us be quenched by the flavors of our harvest.

let our bellies rejoice in the wisdom & laughter we consume.

let us know what joy means.

joy means we.

joy means us.

joy is

sharing love at the same table.

*******

i am writing as a 31 day challenge joining the nester in her quest to write for 31 days straight. you will be encouraged to find her words & images if you’ve never heard of her. she’s an inspiration for sure. of course i was supposed to post yesterday, the 1st of october. would you allow some grace please? i am on board now, and i’m hungry for joy.

oxo,

b

we are the choir.

 

i am called to the broken & lost because they are me;  i, one of them.

we together peek under the rock of taboo & discover what it is like to know truth, in all it’s show.

to understand why & where & how we can love with even more fever than before we knew –

EVERY VOICE MATTERS TO SOMEONE, ESPECIALLY TO THE CHOIR.

that we all must sing when our song is lost & we all find the choir backs us up exactly we when need the harmony the most.

so we sing.

& that is our masterpiece, because we ARE the choir.

ALL OF US ARE THE CHOIR.

& lost we are, but found we’ll be.

keep singing loves. keep singing.

i will conquer the west

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about my fears, i wrote the following, knowing that only by conquering my fears of beginning, will i ever know if i can. the more i wonder, the braver i become.

i am not the west.
i am the north.
i breathe the south.
i embrace the east.
but the west.
it is scary, dry, unknown, desolate perhaps.
is it sacred >> does it bring about cracks that want to envelop me?
i know nothing of its culture.
i am an immigrant in its land.
the west of what i dream and rake my future from, those west – are more than what i think i could handle if i got there.
but, what i know, in the form of fingertips and frostbite, unprepared – i’m heading there anyway.
with my cart.
because of my very horse.
the wagon of my stuff exposed – laid bare upon those cracked and hardened canvases of truth.
the west.
it is an apocalypse of fear that i will destroy with my beginning.
the fear is something erupting into my drums.
and i must march on.

to your dreams, to your hopes, to your beginnings.

i am sending out the blessing of the new year to each and every one of you. may we seek the joy in all we do, and may we spread the kindness as a living, breathing seed of good.

happiest of happy to you and yours. what is your west? go & explore it. may we find love wherever we are brave enough to travel.

love,

b

sigggggg22

love should be the pulse.

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goodness should be our breath.

love should be the pulse.

caring should be our guide, and kindness should be our platform.

always.

always.

always, even in the season of different reasons, different books, different traditions.

it should always begin and end with love.

unconditional and whole.

love.

you cannot buy it, but you can give it freely.

sigggggg22

turkey is not the only thing.

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jesus.

coffee, sometimes with sugar, always with cream.

the sky at dusk.

snuggly socks.

the warmth of the spring sunshine.

rock and roll.

cheese vendor at the farmer’s market.

patterns in fabric.

color.

motorcycle rides.

aromatherapy.

friends who know me inside and out.

family who loves me inside and out.

spilling guts to strangers.

kind neighbors.

ridiculous belly laughs at no one’s expense.

new girl.

plants, plants, plants.

FLOWERS.

a.r.

sports.

art, & the souls who believe in themselves enough to make it.

banjos.

children laughing.

quilts.

sisters.

traditions.

turkey.

you reading this.

my best friend.

for these, & every.living.thing.i.am.so.thankful.

happiest day of gratitude to you, and yours.