Author: Tom (Page 17 of 71)

Tom is a stroke survivor, a seeker, a meditator, a veteran firefighter and rescue tech, a motivational speaker, a poet, and a blogger (new site) & author. He is also the father of three and as their student and teacher, has found applying spiritual practices to all aspects of life provides a vast amount of possibility and abundance. Tom has discovered that true forgiveness is the key to a pure heart, and a pure heart can lead us to wondrous experiences.

You can also connect with tom on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Tomgwriter55/".

I Love You Through My Bones

December 20, 2018 / Tom

Lay with me for a bit, my love. Hold my body close, squeeze my hand tightly and feel my breath on the back of your neck. Love is here, around us and through us, binding us together in a moment that will echo through eternity.

Let’s listen to the winter wind howl outside our warm nook, the snow falling gently as the seed we have planted awaits its spring promise. Know that the man who lays beside you honors you in every breath and carries within him a heart that beats for you. Know that the space you share with your warrior has been blessed by time and our own intention. Know that I would defend our space with all I am and all I ever could be.

That is my truth, for I love you through my bones.

Let that be, and feel it. Feel it through your own bones too.

I just want to love you…

December 20, 2018 / Tom

I want to love you. That’s all I want to do. Not with words, but with deeds. I want to write love poems on your skin with my fingertips. I want to sing love songs with kisses on your shoulder. I want each day to recite the gospel within my heart, without words yet with the very truth that inspires them.

Which is better? (the secrets to life) ~Revised

December 20, 2018 / Tom

I believe there are two secrets to life. One, you must live it. Two, you must share it.

What better than to watch the Sunrise than to watch it with our bodies close? The morning birds sing to us both as the orange glow of life glistens off the morning dew. We turn to each other, eyes locked and hearts made warm by the occasion, destined to kiss in the way lovers do.

We’ve seen the Sunrise alone. Which is the better way?

What better than to see our footprints running parallel on the beach? To feel our knees touching as we sit in meditation as the Sun crests over the ocean’s waves? Love guides us as the warmth cascades around us. The sound of gulls praising life fills us, the waves announcing the presence of that space where all life was born. Our souls embrace in the moment, our hearts know we are where we belong.

We’ve sat in stillness alone. Which is better?

What better way to climb a trail and see heaven’s majesty than to stand at the summit with you? Our fingers touching as we take in the beauty before us, standing straight until your head finally finds its way to my shoulder. We sigh, breathing in and out the clean mountain air, feeling one with nature and with each other.

We’ve climbed our mountains alone. Which is better?

There are things we must see alone. There are moments best left to solitude and space. Yet isn’t life, like any great recipe, a mixture of things that share themselves to one great purpose? An egg by itself may taste wonderful. But it’s not a cake. It’s simply part of one, and I’ve never had a birthday egg.

Wishes of a Warrior

December 19, 2018 / Tom

I will not be marginalized, or forgotten. What I am is a good man, with a good heart, and those who need none of me can leave me to die in the realm their own memories.

The words flow sometimes like a wild spring river. I do not control them, nor can I stop them. They just are, and I best stay out of their way lest I succumb to their torrent.

I cause no harm to you, yet can be shelved to the wild whims of voices I cannot hear and visions I cannot see. Left alone to deal with vices not my own, I will stand tall against the demons and smash them with the hammer I hold so tightly in my chest.

Where do they come from, these words? I just stand out-of-the-way, an active observer in the war between my mind and my heart. Both made equally strong to the task, its natural selection at its best and its worst.

Just go, and leave me be. I’ve sat still in tornadoes and quashed fear when death seemed certain. You are no challenge here, for the more you try to separate me from my senses the harder you will find the task. Hear that? That’s the heart you cannot still. See that? That’s the warrior you cannot stop.

Laugher spills from my soul as the wolves howl and the birds circle high above. “I am no fool,” says one. “Neither am I,” says the other. Both are ready for what is about to come.

I have not lived to be forgotten, nor will I be left to die swimming in the swill of your mind. Underestimate me if you will, but know as I walk away I will not do so defeated nor will I do so holding on to the piss I’ve been made to drink. I have died, and risen, to be much more than this.

With that, the swords fall to the ground and the blood stains the white linen of this day. In your rest, you wish to forget about me. The Sun and silence call your heart more than my voice.

Do not take my kindness for weakness, nor my patience for a gratuity. Neither are infinite in supply, and neither are given without the measure of the man who gives them. Take them for granted, and risk seeing only the footsteps of the man who has walked away, seeking not a treasure but to be a treasure. His only desire is to be precious, somewhere.

To feel as a burden is to be a burden. To feel like the sea that never finds its shore is to be a water world where good men drown. I will not drown but I will seek the shelter of an island who welcomes not just the company, but the heart of the man who surrenders there.

The heart of a man seeks shelter not just from the storm, but also from the Sun. He seeks to love and be loved in equal measure, not parting ways with the discipline of his life nor his own sense of value. He will provide shelter in equal measure to his own desire.

The night plays havoc on his mind. His dreams remind him that he is but a figment, a fragment of an imagination whose focus is on the convenience of the mind, not a calling of the heart. Forget about me in your leisure, as I am willing to be forgotten.

I depart now for the dreams of your whimsical heart. Good night, fight well, and know that you are loved.

Life is 360

December 19, 2018 / Tom

During my meditations, I am often given a message. Though today’s meditation was relatively short, about 10 minutes, it was an intense meeting between me and the Divine.

I guess God had something to share and I, in turn, share it here.

I was sitting around a large, round table. Seated to the right of me were many who were a big part of my life during its various stages. I was also seated there at the different ages. These people included my grandparents, my parents, my children, and some close friends some of whom are no longer with us. Immediately to my right was my Love, and some people I have met through her. The space to my left was something I could not see, but I knew was there.

I heard a singing bowl ring, and I stood to offer a toast when it had finished.

I raised a chalice, and began to speak. What I said came out of me much like when I write. I was not in full control of my words, though I meant all of them.

“Life is a circle. We live in this experience, me as Tom and you as you, in 360 degrees. Each of those degrees gets us to where we are, much like the each tick of a clock gets the second hand back to twelve. While we are an accumulation of each degree, our truth is defined by the one we are on. We are free to make that place whatever it is we want.

“I see now that I have lived 270 degrees so far. I honor each of you who have been part of this journey for being. I love what you have brought to my circle, for the lessons learned and the experiences gained. I forgive each of you for any harm you may have shown me, and ask each of you forgiveness for any harm I may have shown you. Each of you have led me to someplace wonderful, so thank you.”

I raised the chalice, but did not drink. Instead, I breathed deeply and let all the apprehension go out of my body. Forgiveness.

I turned to my Love, seated next to me.

“It took all 270 degrees to find you. Through each of those steps, I’ve learned what it takes to be me. I’ve learned the courage of being vulnerable, of being afraid, and of surviving it all. I’ve learned the beauty of being alone, of rising from the mud, and of finding myself in the midst of losing everything. I stand next to you now not as a proud man, but as a humble man. Life has not chiseled me to be a man of stone. It has chiseled me open to humbly stand before you as vulnerable as the pieces of me that have settled at my feet.

I have 90 degrees left, my Love. Those moments I have left are not about what hills I climb, or trails I hike, or ocean sunrises I get to see. They are about sharing those moments in love. I’ve done them all alone, the next 90 degrees are about sharing each of them with you.

When I reach that 360th degree, I hope to look back and see a life fulfilled in love, in soul, and in a heartfelt testament to all I have learned.

What will be may be unknown, but sharing the unknown with you is all I could hope to do.”

I sipped the drink, and it was sweetly intoxicating.

Venus

December 18, 2018 / Tom

My God, what can I hope to do,
To show you my gratitude?
For what I’ve found right here, right now,
I surely owe to you somehow.

My God, whatever can I say,
To offer love to her this day?
These words I say, these words I write,
Are not enough at the end of night.

Says Venus to this open man,
“What is there to understand?
Just keep on walking the path you know,
The seed you planted will surely grow.”

“But how do I,” came my reply,
“Get out all this stuff inside?”
Venus laughed, I heard it clear,
“Just listen to your heart, my dear.”

I blinked, I sighed, I let it out,
For what she said I could not doubt,
For as weakened as my heart may be,
It’s still the strongest part of me.

For a stoic man cannot deny,
The how, the when, the what and why,
He just sees that star above,
That guides him to the one he loves.

For those of you who know the truth,
Who’ve defeated those beasts of youth,
There is no place you’d rather be,
Then in the arms of destiny.

Venus now fades into day,
The Sun takes over to guide the way,
Before she leaves one final word,
And this is what I know I heard.

“Born to find her, that is you,
She was born to find you too,
Both of you were made to be,
The star at night you long to see.

“The day is coming, just be there,
Present in the space you share,
Take her hand when the seas get rough,
Knowing that you’re hand’s enough.

“Lean on her when the west wind blows,
For she is stronger than she knows,
Your weight will not crush her love,
For she has Angels up above.

“For few things are made like this,
The power found when you kiss,
The truth of her with the truth of you,
Is what the power of love can do.”

Something in those words felt right,
As Venus disappeared from sight,
A light now filled the sky above,
As I gave thanks to the one I love.

One Day

December 16, 2018 / Tom

I plead to the ether.

I want to know,
Please tell me,
For the future remains unsettled in my mind.

Settle my anxious heart,
Cite me stories that write miracles in the sky,
Will me to the place I need to be.

Yet nothing,
Half measures and playful innuendo,
And I just sit and stare at the setting Sun.

Angels answer me in riddles.

They point to the rising Sun,
Yet beg me stay where it is I am sitting,
Nonsense contradicts the truth that's in my heart.

My soul commands me onward,
Though my heart demands I retreat into a shell,
The empty tones stifle music made in heaven.

I go now,
Forever bound to the despair of contradictions,
Perhaps I will see their end.

One day.

Moonlight (A Poem)

December 15, 2018 / Tom

Out there, an echo,
The heart crying,
Howling like wolves in the moonlight.

In here, a voice,
The mind screaming profanities,
Cursed be the beasts I loath.

Which master served?
A poet befuddled by his own words,
The rain falls softly in the meadow.

He’s wanting home.

The Vulnerability of Being

December 14, 2018 / Tom

Seek that which you may find, but not to find it. Embrace that which you hold dear, but not to grasp it. Be burned, be lost, be afraid. It’s all going to be fine.

The Universe often speaks to me in riddles, on what appears to be riddles anyway. I will be honest with you, I have no idea what I am doing. I am a lost man with a found soul who simply just is looking for his way. I often fumble in the dark, banging my head and heart on walls hidden by the darkness, just looking for the way to something.

So the riddles do not surprise me. In fact, nothing less would seem to do.

To those who know me and have for some time, that statement of being lost may be surprising. I am usually the “put together” one, the stoic version of emotional and spiritual strength, the man who can take everything in stride. Yet what most of those friends do not know is what went into that version of me they’ve always known.

What they also do not know is that the version of me they’ve known simply does not serve me now. Parts of that man do, but parts of me need to be shed and replaced with new growth that serves me in my intention. If I wish to grow, I need to be burned, afraid and lost if just for a little while.

Life seems to be, true to form, challenging me to make a choice. Behind one curtain is the me I’ve grown to be, an honest, loving, caring man who loves aloneness, loving the serenity of needing no one, loving the harmony of self-reliance without excuse or retreat. Behind the other curtain is the me I wish to meet. Still honest, loving and caring, I want to enjoy companionship, find serenity of depending on someone, and giving up bits of self-reliance to let someone in my heart. That takes trust, courage and determination.

Scary stuff, but things I’ve learned I can count on. I choose curtain number two.

There is nothing wrong with these changes. I can be true to myself and vulnerable. I can be fine with aloneness while I lay cuddled up on a sofa with my partner. I can experience love of her without ever giving up love of myself. None of these need be mutually exclusive, and can be incorporated in a loving, caring, and conscious relationship. In fact, they can often feed off each other in the best symbiotic way imaginable.

The first step, I’ve found, is for me to allow of the vulnerability of being. We are all human beings with a story; one that includes fear, uncertainty and anxious moments all bundled up in our desire to love and function. Conscious relationships understand that, and loving relationships allow those human frailties to be exposed in the open. What is not permitted is to allow these moments to define the relationship (dysfunction). We can approach each other’s humanness in a way that not only shows the love shared, but exposes those fears for the bastard liars they usually are.

Soon, those fears will vanish in the face of a loving truth.

It’s is not only acceptable, but very necessary, to be very human in a conscious relationship. Spirituality, and the practice of spirituality, certainly has its place in my relationships but it is equally important to me to be absolutely human there too. I want to be afraid and lost sometimes. Those moments, while certainly not pleasant for me while in them, serve to remind me of my heart, my soul and the fact that today I have a partner I can share all of me with. Not just the stoic parts. Not just the conscious parts. I can share even the parts that aren’t so bright and glamorous.

Things I never thought I could share with anyone. Imagine that (growth).

She in turn, can choose to share those parts with me. I don’t expect, or want, her to be perfectly put together like some neatly packaged deity. What is wonderful is when I can return the gift she is to me, to her.

We are all works in progress, beautiful and amazing even in our dark moments. Accept those moments as fervently as you accept those moments of being your being so amazingly put together and you will find some peace in them. Better yet (particularly for those of us used to going it alone), lay your head on your partner’s shoulder, cry it out (let it go) and learn that doing so is perfectly spiritual, too. Functioning alone is no better a spiritual practice than functioning with someone who loves you is. Both are equally amazing.

I Love

December 14, 2018 / Tom

I love,
And I just don't know what else to do.

I'm peeling off the layers of my self,
Throwing my identity into the fire.

Tossing all those preconceptions to the wind,
Letting us build this from virgin dust.

Because I love,
And I just don't know what else to do.

Bit by bit I whittle away 
All the stuff that serves me not.

Painful though it is come look at what is there,
Beauty in the bandage place.

I have discarded so much refuse,
The inferno warms my soul.

What once comforted me,
Now keeps me from my dreams.

What once helped me stand,
Now drives me to my knees.

I throw it all away,
I am but an infant in the learning.

But I love,
And I don't know what else to do.

I've loved you for a million years,
I'll love you for a million more.

Though this life's dust has settled on my heart,
You wash it away with just a whisper.

Now, settle in my arms,
Let me read you our story and never say a word.

Because I love you,
And don't know what else to do.

~TG