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

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

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

Doubts and Troubles

I’ve been on a rather arduous journey to self-awareness the past several years.

As anyone who’s boarded that train will tell you it’s a journey rife with doubt, confusion, imagined troubles, sadness, gloom, joy, sorrow, elation, depression, discouragement, victory, relief, anger, grief, pain, ups, downs, happiness … you get the picture. It’s just been an h-e-double hockey sticks of a ride, and I am under no illusion that it’s over. As long as there is life there is room for more self-awareness … as long as you board that train, that is.

And really, I’m okay with that. I’m much happier with where I am now than where I was when this journey began. I just wish I’d thought to leave the station called “Stuck” sooner.

But then, I appear to be a late bloomer anyway, so the timing for all of this is likely perfect … as perfect goes.

Better to be late than never arrive at all.

How’s your journey going?

***

Doubts and Troubles

Sometimes everything seems clear;

All doubts and troubles disappear.

While other times around me tease

Those thoughts that drop me to my knees.

They toy with circuits in my mind,

So to my self I am unkind,

And make me feel like I am dead

Inside to all my soul’s been fed.

Self-preservation numbs all sense

And life is lived in self-defense.

But as we know this is a lie

For in this mode inside we die.

Tis best to feel what life’s about

It gives us strength, inside and out.

Then thoughts will have a chance to clear

While doubts and troubles disappear.

***

Thanks for reflecting with me …

Dorothy

Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2012