Wake Up!

Most of my recent poetry is about the journey to Self-Awareness.

For a long time I lived the debilitating, fearful, exhausting life of the victim and survivor.

A series of wake-up calls over several years gently nudged me into a new reality, telling me there was more to life than had been my illusion.

So, one day I finally pulled up my socks, strapped on some sturdy shoes, reached deep inside to locate whatever remained of trust and started, with help, down the road to
my truth and personal freedom.

And what a journey it has been so far …

*

Wake Up!

For many years I had no choice,

I only heard another’s voice.

Another’s thoughts had formed my world;

Into their fetid vortex hurled.

Flailing, fighting every day

I tried to live in my own way,

But had no strength to be myself,

So sat, invisible, ‘pon the shelf.

And then, one day, awoke, did I,

To who I’d been, did say “Bye bye!”

Flung out the detritus of life;

Sub-conscious sources of toil and strife.

De-hypnotized old patterns deep,

To climb a learning curve so steep …

Just who am I? Why am I here?

Deep questions full of faith and fear.

But ask I must, and answer, too,

If I to my own self be true.

*

Thanks for visiting.

Dorothy 🙂

*

Copyright Aimwell CreativeWorks 2012

Hidden Treasure

I’m on a journey of self-discovery and, with help, am uncovering all kinds of buried treasure locked away in a safe place within just waiting for me to find it … when I’m ready.

Being a gal in her middle years, it’s good to know life still holds some mystery … and isn’t all misery.

*

Hidden Treasure

Hidden treasure

Lies beneath

A tide of emotion;

An ocean of grief

Filled with the

Detritus drama

Of souls who

Unconsciously

Live and obscure

Others’ goals.

*

Cleansing the

Waters of life

Takes some

Time while I

Lovingly search

For my treasure

Divine. It’s lying

There buried,

Awaiting release

From a watery

Tomb where there

Is no increase.

*

Thanks for visiting …

Dorothy 🙂

*

Copyright Aimwell CreativeWorks 2012

The Art of Veil Painting … Sky Rider

Every veil painting is open to interpretation, of course.

When I meditate on this painting I see a dressage horse with its rider doing a collected trot on a cloud in an otherwise clear sky. I see motion.

And you? Tell me, if you wish … what does this image speak of to you?

Thanks for visiting …

Dorothy 🙂

*

Copyright Aimwell CreativeWorks 2012

The Art of Veil Painting … Elephantine

Here is another veil painting presented for reflection and interpretation.

I call my collection of veil paintings “Whispers” because they speak in hushed voices only to be heard during quiet moments of reflection.

What does this painting whisper to you? Feel free to share.

*

Be well and thanks for visiting …

Dorothy 🙂

Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2012

The Gift

As mentioned in previous posts I’ve been on a fairly intense journey of healing and self-discovery during the past several years. There have been times where I’ve asked the types of questions hinted at in this poem. Now, as I rise out of the valley of shadows that dominated my life for so long, I do indeed find myself able to dwell more fully in the light.

It is a glorious way of being …

The Gift

Deep in the valley

Where dark shades

Prevail I look to the

Skies where the

Feathered ones wail.

They dart through

The light as though

Blinded by hope

They don’t worry,

Nor wonder how

They’re going to

Cope. They call

Me, they call me

“Look heavenward,

See there’s the

Bright ray of hope

Shining boldly

For thee!”

They dance on a

Wing, floating high

In the sky to the

Tune of the sun

And the beat of

Their cries. They

Land for a breath

For a morsel to

Eat, then back on

The wing, flying high,

Flying fleet. No

Wincing or whining

No wondering

Why, just birds

On a wing flying

High in the

Sky. My thoughts

Linger longing

To know how they

Feel, so I climb

From this valley

To find something

Else real. I clamber

Up hillsides o’er

Rocks and through

Trees, and commune

With the living not

Lost in dis-ease. The

Sun gets much

Warmer, the wind on

My face chases out

Haunting demons so I can

Embrace what is

Good what is true

What is hope what

Is love. The gift of

The winged ones

That hover above.

*

Thanks for visiting.

Dorothy 🙂

Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2012

Cosmic Blip

We all have our place in the cosmos. And be assured … it is significant …

Cosmic Blip

As I change and

Rearrange my life

It seems to me,

That there is

Really no one

Else I would

Rather be.

Okay, life isn’t

Perfect; my trials

Have been tough,

But they have

Made me who

I am, and

Really

That’s enough.

I’ve seen my

Limitations,

Yet I know that

I can grow. The

Sky perchance

The limit, and so

To the stars

I go. The sun

Shines boldly

As I soar, my

Heart begins

To race, but

Not from fear

Of what’s

Gone by, no

Forward to

The chase! Dear

Venus wraps

Her arms around

Me, showers me

With love, and

Mars his sword

Tips to the

Earth as peaceful

As the dove. And

To the stars I

Further fly,

And Earth

Becomes so

Small I realize

My presence is

A blip on

Cosmic wall.

*

Thanks for visiting …

Dorothy 🙂

Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2012

The Art of Veil Painting … Seeing with the Heart

“And now here is my secret, a very simple secret; it is only with the heart that one can see rightly, what is essential is invisible to the eye.”
Antoine de Saint Exupery

Our material world, and its proponents, have deluded us into seeing only with the eyes, enticing and distracting us with ever bigger, better, shinier, more complicated “things” that we absolutely must have (or do) in order to embrace, in their eyes, the total life experience.

What a croc!

Be still for a moment and embrace being. In that quietude is the way to the heart’s eyes.

And, if you like, meditate your heart’s eyes upon this, one of my favourite, veil paintings. I call it “Wise Old Equus.”

If you feel inclined, feel free to share with me your experience. … Or not.

The world is too much doing, and not enough being.

I am. You are. It is enough.

Be well,

Dorothy 🙂

Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2012

The Art of Veil Painting … What do you suppose?

In past posts featuring my veil paintings I’ve been in the habit of sharing with you my own interpretation of these works. This time I’m going to leave it wide open to see if our vision is shared without me hinting at anything.

Again, with this watercolour technique nothing is “pre-meditated.” Everything happens on the flow of the breath and in the moment.

So … what do you suppose is going on here?

Thanks for visiting …

Dorothy 🙂

Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2012

The Pool

As poems go this is pretty deep, written a couple of years ago when I was staring into the dark abyss of my pain while involved in some rather gruelling counselling.

I’ve made no secret of the fact that I’ve been seeking help to rid myself of a life time of emotional baggage. Doing so has been one of the best decisions of my life.

Fortunately, I’m not teetering on the pool’s edge anymore. I’ve dealt with the worst of the agony. Now, with the support of some important teachers and mentors I am focused on living … thriving.

I am grateful.

*

The Pool

I am standing at the edge,

Staring into an abyss of pain.

One step, just one step more

And to the dark pool I drop

Like a stone heading for

Rock bottom. There

Impact meets emotion

And a swell of the surreal

Circles in ever-growing

Impulses around me,

Rising and falling

With a cleansing rain

Of tears

Until it makes waves

No more and again the

Pool is still.

Peaceful.

Waiting.

*

Thanks for visiting …

Dorothy 🙂

Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2012

Still … again

Evidently, in spite of my best efforts, I have not been still enough. A month of family commitments and celebrations combined with my carefully managed every day activity finally caught up with me on Monday morning, and I was forcibly, and unpleasantly, incapacitated for 16 hours.

The image depicts my beautiful Oskar, who sadly left us last year, and reminds me to be still.

I turn to my old cats for lessons in stillness. Cats are very good at being still … for hours. When I sit in my chair in the evening, recovering from the day’s activities, my little black cat jumps into my lap, curls up and stays there … all evening … only moving if I dare to and then slotting herself back into her warm and rightful place once I have resettled myself.

I’ve had a winter of this, and while I feel I’ve turned a corner in my overall recovery from adrenal fatigue I can see that quiet evenings will continue for a while yet.

This poem reflects a similar previous posting. I don’t want this to be an ongoing theme but it is what it is for now.

I surrender …

Be well,

Dorothy 🙂

***

Still … again

“You do too much!”

You say to me.

Sweep my legs.

Render me gravely

Still

For as long as

It takes.

In my chair

Forcibly grounded.

Doing

Nothing.

You win …

***

Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2012