posted July 03, 2007 05:44 PM         

I couldn't sleep last night. Too many images and fears crowding into my head, and I reread this string...

I have always subscribed to the idea of "don't tell anyone anything you wouldn't want to see in a newspaper headline."

Yet, I consider myself an open person. I hide a lot of what I truly feel in funny anecdotes and stories. The only way I learned to protect myself through a wretched childhood and the tumulutous twenties was to create a mile thick wall behind which my true self lives.

This has been the only way to control myself. No one can deal with my rages and emotional storms- NO one. I hide all of that sh!t to keep the peace.

Obviously, we can all argue that probably isn't the healthiest thing (hello, can I say totally screwed up throat chakra ) but...

I can't won't lay myself bare the way some people do here... I admire it, respect it, but the real world would destroy me if I did.

I just wanted to say thanks for making me think about these things.

posted July 04, 2007 07:42 PM         

quote:

---

I can't won't lay myself bare the way some people do here... I admire it, respect it, but the real world would destroy me if I did.
I just wanted to say thanks for making me think about these things.

---

Thanks, and you're welcome.

posted July 07, 2007 02:06 PM         

I had written here the other night, but lost what I'd written when it didn't post.

There are many factors that takes one's
voice away at such times.
I could probably write out a lenghty list. (pride being up there as one...not wanting to burden--past scars of indifferences, not wanting to be defined by passing moments...etc. )

one small fragment~

I opened, bare
thought nothing much
of presenting a soul
I felt existed to share

Yet the exposition;
the rejected reciprocation
stamped magnitude more
I could never reclaim

Only leave tumbling out there
in a timeless breeze
Exposed, abandoned,
further scattering

For profane hands
to handle, examine
then toss away,
as if merely litterings

My heart, My heart
My very breath
tumbling away

...when it is a poignant part of sorrow,
it's a most difficult wall to breach.
It's such a delicate, fragile line
of faith...every little opening
becomes this monumental risk.
Only taking one more blow.

There was a most stressful
spiritually transformative time
when I withdrew, becoming for the most part,
entirely self-sustaining,
realizing my solitary journey in this life
was something no other being
could know or understand in the same way.
(there is potential either way with this realization-- either succumb to
further isolation and misery for it,
or be strengthened by it, embracing
it's empowerment)

It was imperative to hear my own voice
in the swirling chaos around me.
So much turmoil, I could barely
hear myself.
I had to shut out the noise of the world and listen.
No other way could have saved me
or could I have discovered
the intuition of direction
that could have strengthened me
...or shown me the ways I was meant to travel onwards.

A profound reoccuring catalyst
is a very deep isolation of feeling out of place here...
not having been meant for this world.
Stranger in a Strange Land
But here...amid horrors that
a tender heart finds at times
impossible to fathom and endure.

I don't think of my sorrow
as a relateable experience when I'm immersed in it. The things that affect me
don't seem to affect most people.
The horrors of this world~ its cruelties.
Not to say that I'm not also
prone to self-pity, or lacking the realization that this contemplation
isn't in its way self-absorbed, for it's recoiling inwards.

I'm always proven otherwise,
as I listen and wait on that threshold.
This past month at work
two coworkers opened to me,
such uncanningly familiar
struggles, hopes, sorrows.
Magical meetings,
like a connection of souls
in some other realm
we remember in our hearts as home.
I'm just continually awed
by this journey...
and all I receive in the most timeliest
ways. Like here at LL.
So often I've found a connective solace in other's writings here.
Nothing goes unrecognized
or uncherished.

posted July 07, 2007 05:52 PM         

No, I don't think we were meant for this world. This is the world of illusion. I think that the awakened spirit realizes this, struggles with its captivity and knowledge of the captivity. To acknowledge the suffering in the world is a truly disturbing thing. Sometimes we have to shut ourselves off from it for our own sanity. In a book called 'ThePsychic Power Of Plants' it was discovered that even empathic plants will do this- shut their empathy off, after a while of being exposed to something. We can only do our best, our bit, which every little makes a difference, while we are here- we are only human.

Laughter, music and beauty are the best medicine for healing!

And Lia....there is something about your words, the way you write and the way the thoughts/energy flow from you.....it feels like the gentlest angel wings....you give desperate lungs a breath of purity so scarce in a world so lost....

(if that makes sense? lol. Couldn't think of any other way to put it!)

Love Is Eternal.

posted July 10, 2007 12:56 PM         

Zala {{{ }}}
same as above about you.

Fayte,
even feeling a bit weird writing like an out of place award-acceptence speech or something, lol *blush* ...
I can't leave significant things left unsaid.

These past couple of years, you were the one I felt most safe opening to in the darkest times. Your kindness, your understanding, your care, I will always remember and keep preciously near to my heart.
Thank you, dear Soul.