Author: Tom (Page 20 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/".

In Our Nook

November 13, 2018 / Tom

Oh, my love. I’ve fallen hopelessly into the mist. I feel you everywhere, touching me in places never touched before, arising in me a passion long untapped. What can lovers who share a heart do but move together in that majestic rhythm? What can an inspired man do but surrender to love’s sweet pull?

I realize that here is nothing that I can do. I can only surrender as the barriers of my mind crumble before me. I can only give myself to you as the wicked, shaking ground begins to settle all around us.

Come, be with me in our nook. United with me in that place where two pieces made to fit unite in love’s purpose. Know the man who has so given himself to you, and let him know you in return. Wrap yourself in the safety of this love, forsaking all fear to the God who wishes to take it from you. Give me your forever as I give to you my eternity. Be notorious by my side, forsaking what was for what is destined, and giving what now exists the just due it demands.

Settle with me there, in that spot we find great comfort. Let me wrap my arms around you and hold you close, replacing the noise around us with the sounds of our breathing. Lay with me upon that altar made sacred by soft kisses and the awesome truth that we have found. Truth discovered as we turned our hearts into words and our words into the absolutely indescribable. Truth that exists when we touch, when we lay, and when we silence that noise and listen to what remains.

Truth found in the moment when we reach for each other in our early morning haze. Truth found when we awaken, fingers intertwined and hearts ready for the day. Truth found in the silent dialog between our hearts as our flesh meets, as I kiss you on your shoulder, and as you bury yourself in my warmth.

We’ve only known the truth there, my love. No fear, no doubt, no uncertainty. Only the truth of love bestowed upon two souls who sought the destiny of being reunited once again. Brought together in our time. In our place. In our nook.

More Time

November 12, 2018 / Tom

I held his hand as his life slipped away.

Moments before, he had been setting the table while his wife was cooking in the kitchen. They were expecting their children and their families for a Sunday brunch, and the husband and wife talked about various things in anticipation. He never saw it, as the crash of a dish on the hardwood floor marked the end of his life.

Try as we might, there was no saving him. I can still hear his wife begging us to save him. “I need more time” is all I could hear her say, a mantra that would not be honored on that day.

I held her hand as her life slipped way.

This grandmother and her boyfriend were on their way to visit her daughter and infant granddaughter when the accident happened. I had come across it, not as a responder but just as a skilled citizen. I made my way into the car, knowing that she was injured and the fire department would likely have to cut her out of the car. I talked to her, heard all about her love for her daughter and her boyfriend. I learned about the infant granddaughter, one the grandmother had long hoped for. I heard about the pain in her chest and neck, as I held her head in stabilization, gently and calmly telling her what the rescuers were doing around her. I warned her of every noise that was coming, and told her just to focus on my voice until they could get her out.

“I just need more time,” she said to me. I assured her she had more coming, but for now she had to focus on my voice and be calm with me. In the end she said, “you’re a beautiful man, Tom. I am glad we met, although I wish it wasn’t like this.”

She never made it to the hospital.

I’ve not always been a beautiful man. Any beauty within me has been exposed at a cost; hard lessons learned often in the hardest way possible. Those lessons countered equally hard lessons that hid any light within me. Yet with each chop of life’s chisel exposed a layer beyond the surface of who I believed I was. I am grateful for the masterpiece in me, and the sculptor I’ve used to grow beyond my condition. To watch the end of someone and the pain that comes with it has left an indelible etching in stone on my soul.

I’ve lost four friends in the line of duty, and I’ve never heard a loved one left behind satisfied with the time they’ve had. In fact, the prayer I’ve always heard was about more time. The lesson I’ve always taken from it has always been predicated on trying t understand why we waste so much of it yet I understand that most of us learn our lessons just like I have. The hard way.

We will all have our “lasts” in life. Our last breaths. Our last words. Our last kiss. Our last embrace. While I realize we will always wish for more at the end, I just don’t want it to be because I’ve wasted so much of it. That would be shameful.

What prompted this reminder was the recent Thousand Oaks shooting and a Dad’s last words to his son.

“I love you, son”.

Dad certainly wants more time. I honor him for not leaving such a beautiful truth left unsaid. We humans often take such matters for granted until we no longer have a choice. Then, we wish for something different.

Maybe, just maybe, we could try something different. Maybe we make it a point not to leave such words unspoken regardless of how often we’ve said them. Maybe we just try to stop wasting so much time.

There will be two dates on my tombstone separated by a dash. I want to make the most of that dash. To use the words of Pearl Jam, “I know I was born, and I know that I’ll die. The in-between is mine” (I Am Mine). What if we owned the dash in such a way that even if we wanted more time, it would never be because we spent to much of it hiding in our box? What if we chose to trust, and to live, in love and light and the potential of the Universe?

A Fool (An 11/11 renewal)

November 10, 2018 / Tom

I feel like a fool.
For she takes my preconceived notions,
And twists them,
Crushes them,
Pulverizes them to dust before my eyes.

All my childish notions,
All my child-like fears,
Vanish in the instance of her arrival.
For there in the face of her,
That beauty born is blood to my wretched heart.

Everything she says,
Everything she feels,
Echoes in the caverns of my soul,
As if she was etched on the canvas of my life,
Long before either of us was born.

Now I stand,
Naked and humbled in front of this altar,
A tear blazing a trail upon my face,
Awed in the face of what I thought I knew,
For I called, and she came, and what a prayer it’s been.

Today, a renewal,
As the sultry sun rises on a snowy scene,
I beg for her presence, and she’s there,
My hand upon my chest, her name on my breath,
We watch the scene together.

In the moment we were each conceived,
A promise of our reunion was born again,
The trail blazed in loving-colored green,
Scented marigolds pointing the way,
To that willow tree where a testament is given.

I say hello to the promise of this moment,
Goodbye to the shallow horror of the past,
Let’s be rooted here like the tree that we stand under,
Blowing in the breeze like its strands of branches,
Cascading down raising goosebumps on our skin.

Kiss me now, for I am not a fool,
I am simply a man in love with you.

Rumi Speaks

November 9, 2018 / Tom

“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing
and rightdoing there is a field.
I’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass
the world is too full to talk about.” ~Rumi

That grass. That golden grass. Sweet to the skin and comforting to the soul. That is love, a magical and unexplainable sense of plush support that redirects the mind to the heart. Meet me there, and lay with me under the Spring Sun, counting butterflies when they pass as we lose ourself in the truth of our union. The fire that lit our way to each other burns brightly still. The well-lit yet sometimes twisting path is lit under that single flame as two souls lay on the same grass on the same field, contemplating the possibilities. There, the fullness of truth leaves us speechless yet full of Love’s sweet word.

“I want to see you.

Know your voice.

Recognize you when you
first come ’round the corner.

Sense your scent when I come
into a room you’ve just left.

Know the lift of your heel,
the glide of your foot.

Become familiar with the way
you purse your lips
then let them part,
just the slightest bit,
when I lean in to your space
and kiss you.

I want to know the joy
of how you whisper
“more” ~Rumi

Oh, Love, such sweet truth! To know you in the was the Earth bends to your weight, how my soul bends to your lips. To know! To know! To know such amazing heights as to fly in love with you! To know the safety of our space, the joys of our flow stream, and the breadth of our own transcendence is the truth of our existence. Could God exist beyond a single touch of your fingers on my skin? Could heaven be anywhere but within the space we share? Sure, to know…oh to know this truth realized in the joys of our own anticipation. I simply long for the taste…

“In your light I learn how to love. In your beauty, how to make poems. You dance inside my chest where no-one sees you, but sometimes I do, and that sight becomes this art.” ~Rumi

Please, do not overly concern yourself with my mind. May my heart beat so loudly as you never hear my fears, or see my trembling, or feel my quakes with the rising Sun. You are the flow that sets my heart to bleed love and truth on pages strewn about my world. You are the truth I’ve been made to realize as I dance when no one is looking to music very few would understand.

“Let yourself be silently drawn by the strange pull of what you really love. It will not lead you astray.” ~Rumi

This flow…remarkable in its intention and wonderful in its promise… has taken a hold of me. Winding through the forests and deserts birthed in a lifetime, I feel the pull of something beautiful as it awakens me. Out of the comfortable box I go, thrown about like a leaf in a storm, to enjoy the sight and scent of you. Give me time to adjust to my new surroundings, and love to remind me of why I am there. Do not change a thing, the leaf needs the wind and the ground and the spring to be itself, and I have no intention of grasping a twig when I have such a tree to embrace. Just love, reminded of what pulled you to write words of truth, to grow wings and fly, and to meet me in spaces you had never seen before. Remember that graceful pull that led you into such a sweet embrace, into such a miraculous kiss, into eternity.

“I didn’t come here of my own accord, and I can’t leave that way.
Whoever brought me here will have to take me home.” ~Rumi

Yes.

Languished (rough draft)

November 7, 2018 / Tom

He sits in silent stillness, the muck around him spinning his mind into oblivion. The beast screams at him, he can feel its spittle searing into his soul. Ignoring it is not an option. The room he is in is like a crypt, and his soul is ready to die.

“Why?” is the only word he can muster. The only other sound is of his heart breaking. What was once certain is now shaking him to the core. He just falls to pieces, the shards of his soul mixing with the swill beneath him.

“Forgive me, I know not what I’ve done.”

He wants to cry, but has no strength. Dry sobs shake the air around him like pebbles dropped into a still lake. He wants to be better, he wants to be stronger but there is nothing left for him to give. This portion of his heart he’s given to others and now they are free to beat him to death with it.

He reaches out, wanting to trust in a response yet is met with empty silence as the familiar waves of pain pours over him. Wretched though he is, he tries to stand. He has lost the only footing he had ever asked for, and now stumbles into the darkness beyond.

This is the plight of those who love. Loving too hard, or not enough, or too simply, or too complicated. The lover looks in the mirror, “who am I to love you so? An overwhelming drip am I, sad to the heart I love the most. I am just not worthy.”

Sad, tear-stained eyes look down at the churning cauldron beneath him. His feet have grown accustomed to this fire, so much so he can’t even feel the skin peeling from his bones. He just wants to touch her face one more time, just once more time…please Lord just one more time…

Another unanswered prayer. Fuck the gods who turn their backs to him now. His heart, once beating rays of light into all he touched, now lies dormant like a stone at the bottom of an ocean. There is nothing here for him now. “Fuck you,” he says to the reddened sky above.

“Stand up.”

Startled, he looks around. Through the waves of heat there appears nothing, and through the waves of pain he sees only the barren landscape before him.

“I said, stand up.”

“I must be going crazy,” the lover says unto himself.

“That you are. Now, stand up.”

“Please, whoever you are, leave me alone. I have nothing left here, and deserve nothing but the end. Let me go, I need to do this.”

“If you have nothing here than that is what you have to lose? Now, stand up.“

He stood. Memories of times past, happy times, flooded his mind. The laughs and smiles only seemed to darken his mood beyond the impossible place he seemed to be. He realized that he never deserved those moments. His life was to be cursed into a living hell until, mercifully, it ended.

“Fine, now can you leave me the fuck alone?”

“We’ve only just started. You have a long way to go, but go you will. You’ve taken the first step simply by standing. The next step is exactly that. Take a step.”

“No. I want it to end right here. Now. Please, just leave me to it. I am just so fucking tired.”

“Yeah, we’ve been watching you. Remember that moment in your room as a child? That was us. We promised you we’d return, and here we are. You may not be able to end the pain, but you can end its hold on you. Now, please, we beg of you…put one foot in front of the other.”

Numbness dulled his heart, pain the only thing he could feel. He had come here to die, and die he would. He couldn’t ever remember that night in his room.

“No. I’m done. Please, let me go.”

He slipped the rope around his neck, anchored to the playground gym near his home. He tightened the knot, and sank to his knees, determined that nothing would stop him.

Suddenly, images of his children playing here flooded his mind. He could hear them laughing and shouting to one another. Yet, still, his heart remained numb. It occurred to him that his children would never be able to play here again.

“Fuck. What the fucking fuck!” he shouted into empty air. “You aren’t going to beat me. No, I’m doing this and you can’t stop me.”

He tore the rope down, gathering it into the backpack he had stored it in.

“I’ll show you.”

He began walking, the steel-toed boots he’d worn “just in case” he needed the weight shuffling along a thin layer of snow. He would find that place, and it would be the last thing he would ever do. He’d show them all. He was done with this place, his own failure, and being unloved a lifetime over.

He came to a tree. The strongest branch was too high, and he hadn’t enough rope. He moved on, and found another tree, but no limbs strong enough to hold him. Then he found the perfect tree, but the road it was on was too heavily traveled. He kept walking in the cold night air. On and on he walked, each step met with an angry shout at the gods who had never heard him.

Suddenly, he was in front of his house. Through the windows he could see her folding clothes, and his kids playing in their room. He fell to his knees and sobbed, finally feeling a lifetime of pain pouring out of him.

“I want to live. Please let me live. I want to be happy. I want to find love. I want to be the man I always thought I could be.”

“Well, then, stand up.“

He took handfuls of snow and covered his swollen face, trying to hide his misery from his children. He walked in, and heard “Daddy!” coming from the other room and the sounds of feet running toward him. He grabbed those little souls with every ounce of strength he could muster. When he had left this home he felt nothing, but now he felt everything.

“Daddy, are you OK?” said his little girl.

“Yes, honey. I’m fine. Your daddy is fine.” His memory was returning.

The New Tortoise and Hare Story

November 7, 2018 / Tom

We’ve all heard the story of the tortoise and the hare. We’ve heard how overconfidence defeats even the most able (the hare), and how just working within yourself can lead to great things (the tortoise). It’s a wonderful story.

But what happens if neither the tortoise nor the hare cares about winning? What happens if both just want to arrive at the finish line together enjoying the journey they’ve taken to arrive?

I’d say that’s an even more amazing story.

Confidence would have no place in this new story. A desire to prove something would neither be necessary nor appropriate. It would just be a story of two beings who had found each other, enjoying the journey and each step they shared along the way. Both would have their own story prior to the arriving at the starting line, but that would change the moment the starting pistol sounded. From that moment on, two individuals would work together to achieve their common objective. utilizing their pasts toward a great future in each present moment step they made.

Sometimes the hare, in his natural state, would want to sprint faster than the tortoise. The tortoise, in her natural state of careful slowness, would sometimes need the pace slowed. Both would accommodate the other, sometimes one slowing down and sometimes one speeding up. In this state of love and awareness, neither would need this to be a victory, yet both would be victorious when crossing the finish line as long as they crossed it together.

A shared victory is the one where lovers arrive at the same time, in a way that honors both the love they share and the commitment to the heart within them. A warrior’s true victory is one he achieves in love, the one he achieves in both honoring himself and the love who stands beside him.

Yes, I am working on this new version of the classic. I want to make this a love story, one where differences can both be honored and celebrated in the love that the “race” represents. It becomes less of a race and more of a journey, one honoring love despite differences.

It will be available soon, and I will post about it when it is ready.

Sometimes, Let’s Just Play (A dialog on effort, play and the present moment)

November 5, 2018 / Tom

“We sense your fatigue. We see you are tired. What is going on?”

There are moments made just for who we are.

In my life, there seems to have always been so much “work”. Everything wonderful seems to come with some bonded belief that work must be part of the mix. We want, it’s time to work. We need, more work. We hurt. Guess what time it is? Yes, it’s time again to work.

Sometimes, I just don’t want to work anymore. I’ve been working on myself for so long I tend to forget the time when I could just play. I want to kiss you in the moment. I want to walk with you in another. I want to play in the rain, get muddy, and laugh until my sides hurt. I want to hear about your day, hug you until my arms grow tired.

I just, at times, want the work to end. For a little while, anyway. I don’t want to feel like the work I happen to do is my identity.

What is wrong with just waking up and playing, sending us off to our jobs with a certain ache and a great memory? Yeah…that’s the life.

“You got it! We’ve been leading you here. Don’t make the work your life! Make your life the work!”

Is there any more drudgery than the pain that comes right before the “work” needs to begin? Is there any reason for the pain other than the need for work? Why not just live fulfilled, find happiness, jump into love and bask in the glow of both your successes and your mistakes? Must we always eat a lemon before indulging in that sweet, fine chocolate?

“There are no mistakes save one. Not following your heart. Slavery to fear is the only mistake we make.”

Well, I’m not afraid. Find a sword that’s been tempered in hell and see if it fears the battles it was forged to endure. No, fear is not my issue. Not living is. Not squeezing every precious second out of this life, not loving in every fucking last moment.

“The present moment is gone before you even realize it’s here. Everything you perceive has already happened, it’s the past before you see it. The Sunrise is eight minutes old before you see it. That touch has already happened before your brain can sense it. Those goose bumps happen now as a result of something in the past, and both are creating something amazing for the future.

That kiss? Well it happened before you actually did it. You’ve thought about it a million times before it comes. When it comes, it’s already past. The present moment is always a mixture of the past and present creating a future.”

Exactly. I get it.

“Don’t get us wrong. You always need to prepare for a race, you can’t just show up at the starting line and think the event will be enjoyable. You really must prepare.

If you are running with someone, then train with them. Run with them. Swim with them. Dance with them. That way, when the going gets tough during the event, you already know how to lean on each other. Leaning on someone is an inevitability you are finally learning. Just don’t make it an addiction.”

How sweet. Needing someone, but only when you need them.

“How will I know when it is time to lean?”

“For now, it’s when you can’t breathe. Or when your proverbial leg cramps. Or when you feel faint. Learn to lean on someone you trust, and let them lean on you. Trust me, you’l know when you need to lean. The real trick is learning who to lean on.”

I laugh at the suggestion. There are some, but few, I’d feel that comfortable with and even fewer I believe have the desire to pull it off.

“We know what you are thinking. We get it.”

“Fucking being human. Why on earth would any higher being want to experience this nonsense?”

“Well, who said anything about earth? That’s for another time, just know that you have something here. Don’t take this stuff so seriously all of the time. If someone isn’t with you, well let them fall behind. If they want to, they will catch up. If they don’t, you just keep playing.”

I chuckle again.

“If something isn’t going your way, you have two options. One, you can leave it behind. Two, you can be patient. There is no wrong answer here. Everybody has a right to their happiness. The only part of the equation we can’t help you with is how long you are willing to wait for it.

That answer may not be the same for different experiences. Just trust your intuition. It’s never lied to you and never led you astray.”

“How do I know which situation demands which answer if my core has no answer?”

“Let us give you an example. Would you wait in a long line for a roller coaster you could not see but heard would be great?”

“Probably not.”

“Why not?”

“Because I wouldn’t even be sure there was a roller coaster there. I know there is a line, but people can be fickle. I want to live, not wait in line for something I don’t know exists.”

“There you have it. You’ve employed the lessons of your past together with your feelings of the present to formulate an intention for the future. Now, what do you do with that intention to live?

“I find a roller coaster that both feels fun and I can see exists.”

“YES! See, we come to a conclusion of this discussion with something wonderful. You can love so much, but it starts with you. Use what you know, what you feel, and what you’ve learned to set the table for a happy tomorrow. That will, in turn, make you happy today.”

“Interesting.”

“And one more thing, if we may. You need to redefine the ‘present moment’.”

“That’s a little presumptuous of me, isn’t it?”

“Ha! Now way. We’ve already shown the present moment as others have defined it for you just doesn’t exist. If it doesn’t exist, perhaps it is nothing more than snake oil sold to the masses.”

“Okay. Then how should it be defined?”

“The present moment should be redefined as the moment you were born until the moment you die. That way, when you live “for the moment” you are living for you life, taking the past into the present to create a future. This does not mean judging things by the past, it simply means understanding that you like roller coasters, but may not like the particular one you are getting on. However, in the knowledge that you like roller coasters, you can set an intention for the future to ride them. Then, you can save your money, take a trip, and ride them.

It’s like training for a race, using last week’s numbers to understand what you need to do on this run in order to accomplish what you want during the race. The past is not your enemy, and the future certainly does exist.”

“The future exists? That’s not what I’ve been taught.”

“It certainly does exist. However, it is so remarkable that it allows you to change it before it happens. The future that exists may have you living until you are 90, but is so well-intentioned that if you live unhealthily that it may change that outcome. Death doesn’t even change the future.”

“It doesn’t?”

“Of course not. It still exists, just not with you in it as you are now. Your potential, your dreams, all terminate with you death. The future does not. The only time the future does not exist is when the Universe no longer exists, just as the past did not exist before the Universe exploded into life. As long as life exists, so will the future.”

“Got it. That’s a lot to think about. I need to rest now.”

November 4, 2018 / Tom

I asked to be filled with what I need to know. I was instructed to write this down, and share it as it was offered.

Tears.

You are I are shrouded in white. You have a golden flower in your hair, and I see the brightness of your smile. There are no words, just you and just me, standing face to face in joy and contentment.

You take my hand. You recite to me words you’ve written, yet you need to look at nothing. I can feel your grip get tighter when you get to certain parts, but you look into my eyes and courageously say the words that love has transcribed.

You never let go of my hand. Through blurry eyes I just gaze at you, my heart both settled and excited in the moment. You have come home to me, and without question know this we belong in this space together. I recite words to you, written in my heart and shared with no one else. I can see a tear of joy flow down your cheek, for finally it has all be worth it.

We just stand there for a moment, taking in the absolute bliss of the end of one journey and the beginning of another. Our hands belong together, and our lips beg for a kiss. You lean in as I touch your face, kissing you softly with a tenderness of a man in love. I kiss the tears on your cheek, and together we both know we have been healed.

I ask you if you are happy. You say you’ve never been happier. You ask me the same, I have no words but these.

I once saw a mist in the heavens, and asked it for its name. 
I once reached out to empty air, and found emptiness the same,
I once remembered in my night, the starry sky above,
And in an instant here you stood, I had finally found true love.

No shroud could ever withstand the heat of this destiny, and soon the whiteness faded into vibrant color. We turned and walked toward the lake, and I realized we were standing on the dock. The mountains mirrored on the calm surface, and a couple of herons landed in the distance.

You put your head on my shoulder, our hands united as the Sun embraced us with its warmth. More tender, private words spoken in this moment.

“She’s coming,” said they. “Be ready…”

Round Peg, Round Hole (A Conversation at the Altar Stone)

November 4, 2018 / Tom

Sometimes we walk forever just to find that one spot we can all home.

So, I’ve walked. I’ve walked a hundred million miles, sometimes wearing shoes that will never fit and sometimes wearing no shoes at all. Life, for me, is a varying degree of shelter and openness, of solitude and a deep desire for my soul’s companion.

“What do I need to do?” I ask the Ether. “Teach me.”

I am gifted with a vision. In it, I am there, in front of a board with a single round hole. In my hand is a single, green peg. It is obvious that the peg was made for the hole, of that I had no question in my mind.

“Now, put the peg in the hole,” they said. I did as instructed.

I could feel resistance. The resistance became unnatural, surprising, and I began to feel upset at the two not going together as expected. I began to push harder, to which there was an equal increase in the resistance.

“I don’t get it,” I said. “This is supposed to be easy.”

“So you’d think. However, what is all of this ‘supposed’? Who said it was supposed to be easy?”

“They seem to be perfect for one another. It should just fit. It should take no work at all.”

“Again, so you’d think. However, what is making it harder is your expectation. You expect it to be easy, and at the first feeling of unexpected resistance you begin to push harder. In reality, you are creating your own resistance, and that is increasing the work needed to make what should fit, fit.

Try it again, this time let go of what you believe should happen and just do your part. Have little concern for what the other should be doing.”

I reinserted the peg, this time having no idea what would happen nor any attachment to the outcome. The peg slid in easy, exposing the perfection of the union.

“See. What is meant to be takes little work. There is always effort involved, but little work.”

“What’s the difference?” I asked.

“Effort is natural. When flowers bloom, that is an effort. The Sun rising is an effort. Leaves changing colors is an effort. However, it isn’t work. Effort is natural and in the flow of truth, work is something that takes us away from our truth and into the real of expectations. Effort is your putting the peg in the hole, work is forcing it in. Things fit, naturally with no work. That’s when you know you’re in flow.”

I thought about that for a moment. I understood the point, but questions arose as to its practicality

“But how do I just let go of everything like that? I have wants, needs, desires…”

“Yes, you do. Imagine how boring your experience of being human would be if you didn’t! Effort is in accepting those human things when work would involve repressing them. The real question must be, how do those things serve you?”

“I am not sure.”

“They allow you to be human. You are, after all, a human. The spirit you now and love, the very thing you feel flowing through you right now, is what is having the experience through you. We want you to have this experience. We need you to.

Consider this. You are so loved, just as you are. If your humanity is causing no harm, and is an expression of the love within you, you must let it guide you. It may create pain in your existence, but it will serve you. Trust us, trust it, and trust that part of you that knows it.”

My mind took me back to moments when I refused myself, when I denied those things that I knew to be true. I was reminded of the suffering that resulted.

“I get it. I must trust myself in order to create the life experience I want to have.”

“Exactly. Your Love isn’t in love with you because of some idea of you. Love sees you as you are, and needs you to be exactly that. Your lives are joined, always have been. The lessons have been learned, and now you are a part of each other’s path, of each other’s lesson, of each other’s experience. You’ve been tested, and you know your truth. She sees your truth, and loves you for it. You owe her that truth because she will grow in your truth, and you will grow in hers. You are no longer meant to go it alone, even in those moments when you enjoy your solitude. For both of you, there will always be a returning home, regardless of the moments you spend outside of it. We’ve kept you apart until that moment when you needed each other, to be in each other’s presence. That time has come.”

“Ok. Thank you.”

“No need. We are not done yet. There is more to come. This a time of enormous growth for you both. We will not forsake you, we will be here for you. Such is the power of your union.

Just remember. Round hole, round peg. There is no need for resistance. You will, however, experience it. Both of you will. When you do, turn to each other. That’s the beauty of your meeting. There is no need, other than choice, to go it alone. Try it.”

“I will. You’ve given me much to think about.”

“Don’t. Your thinking about it is meaningless. Feel it. Try it. Confide in her. She’s ready. Trust this process, and the instincts we’ve blessed you with.”

“Ok. It’s been a great walk.”

“Yes, it has.”

Red Cardinal

November 2, 2018 / Tom

That there is true love all around,
Fearless it shall be,
Blanketing me in waves of green,
The heart jumps though it can't see.

Who am I to question?
Lip bitten, red droplets to the ground,
Sprout loving life where they land,
Red marigolds I've found.

I seek something I know is near,
Fragrance bathes my heart in gold.
A Red Cardinal lands on an empty bench,
"Come, sit with me," I'm told.

I heard him sing a little bit,
A melody so wanted in its making,
The Beast within me soothed once more,
A true lesson for the taking.

"You've walked so long and fought so hard,
You've finally arrived,
Do not cede this space for anything,
No thought or fear contrived.

The wounds, my son, have finally healed,
Why open them again?
The truth is right before your eyes,
There is nothing left to mend.

The plight of others is not your fault,
Just give it all you've got,
For in the end that's all you have,
Don't make things what they're not.

For as long as love resides in you,
The pain, it will subside,
For flowers sprout right where you stand,
Fertile tears are what you've cried.

I've flown so far to tell you this,
For we've always known your heart,
And when true Love does trust in this,
You will never be apart."

I sat with that a little while,
Knowing all he said was true,
For when set free a bird in love,
Will always fly back to you.

I watched as he took off in flight,
I swear I heard him say,
"Don't be sad when you're alone,
Sometimes things are meant this way."

I turned and walked from that spot,
I knew I was blessed to be,
And when fatigued I found a spot,
Beneath a willow tree.

With heavy heart and aching soul,
Exhausted I did fall,
Yet no final bell had rung that day,
I hadn't given it my all.

I breathed, I sighed, I even cried,
There are some words I'd love to hear,
Yet in the end that willow tree,
Was all I could find near.

I pulled and threw some golden grass,
Watched blades surrender to the breeze,
Soon winter would finally come to me,
And all of this would freeze.

I stood up tall and stretched a bit,
Caressed the tree with an open thumb,
Perhaps life would be so much easier,
If I felt completely numb.

To find that strength, and pull away,
Let destiny decide,
I left my heart in some other place,
I could not find inside.

In each of us there is a place,
It may look just like a cave,
One thing I've found that is for sure,
It isn't necessarily a grave.

Refreshed I stood and then I turned,
And whispered to the tree,
"Willow my sweet angel true,
Your love has set me free."

I turned to watch the Sun come up,
A soft branch caressed my face,
I knew in our instant shared,
I had found a sacred space.

For trusting trees and golden grass,
Has never been my way,
Yet in that space something changed,
I carry to this day.

For once someone loves and trusts you so,
Though frightened she me seem,
She is the greatest light of strength,
That you have ever seen.

So never take for granted this,
When your mind is wracked with strife,
That a Red Cardinal may sit with you,
And help you change your life.