Author: Tom (Page 21 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/".

The Mask (A Nightmare)

November 2, 2018 / Tom

From the end, there was such a beginning.

I was sitting on the bottom of a clear pool just enjoying the serenity and weightlessness. The way the waves painted sunlight where I sat added to the moment, and the slight pressure of my surroundings did little to change the moment. Peace. Love. Energy.

In my right hand there was an air mask. The mask was similar to the mask I wore as a firefighter. That mask had kept me alive more than once, helped me help others, and protected me in moments of great peril. Most of us in the fire service take great care of the masks we use because, usually, not doing so could mean our demise.

I could feel the air tightening in my chest as time wore on. I felt no fear in this, as I knew I had the mask to rely on should I push it too far. I could hear my heart beating louder, acting like the second-hand on a clock and keeping time with growing discomfort in my chest. More beats, the tightness growing with each one.

Finally, I began to struggle. Even as tightness grew, I wanted to go onward as I always had, expecting the discomfort and struggle to serve as a lesson. More discomfort, and my heartbeats grew louder until I simply could take no more.

Just as I was ready to ascend, I began to put the mask on my face. My ascent would have to be fast, and I trusted my legs to propel me fast enough, with the mask on, to the surface. I could almost feel the sunlight on my face, and her sweet embrace as I laughed and tried to catch my breath. Life on the bottom was life all around. What awaited me on the surface was nothing short of heaven.

I grabbed the straps of the mask like I had a million times before, and moved it to my face. To my horror I realized that the mask was not attached to anything! I had the mask, but I had no air, no lifeline to the heaven that awaited me!

I let out a muffled shout, inaudible to all including me. I bent my legs, my feet firmly on the bottom, trusting they were strong enough to get me to air. As I pushed, the earth beneath me gave way, and all my strength seemed to do was move what once appears steady. I had no speed to reach the surface, and I knew I was in trouble.

Time seemed to stand still as I fought with all my might to get to her, to the surface. I kicked my legs hard, my arms pulling at water with all of their might. My throat felt as if it would explode, my chest aching beyond all description. The surface seemed within reach, but never seemed to get any closer. I began to panic, something I never seem to do.

I finally broke through the surface, and she was there. Her beautiful smile suddenly changed when she realized I was in trouble. I floated on the surface, trying to breathe, but my body would not respond. I tried to tell her I loved her, but my words failed me and I knew she couldn’t hear them anyway in her shouting. I could see the Sun looking down on me but could not feel its warmth.

Shadows began to form all around me. I could not recognize the faces, but somehow believed I knew them. They grabbed me, and started dragging me to shore, telling my beloved a lie I have uttered more times than I care to remember.

“Don’t worry. He’s going to be fine.”

I wanted to reach for her, but she was too far away. I wanted to tell them all to get away from me so that I could hold her hand. Nothing came from me until, finally, the darkness came. I stared at her as the night fell until, there was nothing left to see.

In my dream, sleep came. In my reality, I was awakened with a jolt. I sat up on my bed trying to calm my heart and to catch my breath. Sweet, beautiful breath, how I do not take you for granted!

It was 3:13 am on my watch. I just sat there breathing, looking for heaven. She was there, somewhere, and I found her in my heart.

Unkind Night

November 1, 2018 / Tom

The night can be so unkind.

I can hear you, but I can’t touch you. I can see your face, but only when my eyes close to take me away from here. I can hold you, but only when my heart imagines that I am far away…

…next to you. Holding you tightly. Telling you I love you without even saying a word. You knowing it without ever having to open your eyes. Sacred in those spaces, my dreams remind me of your absence, while my heart slowly bleeds with every thought of you.

Pieces of me fall away, and I am left flayed open on the floor. Demons of the night remind me that perhaps such dreams are left for other men. Men who would squander their chance, and throw away this dream for whims and whispers. Time has taught me the value of the promise that is this love, and if I remain so fortunate to have you love me that promise shall never be broken.

Give me hope, my love. Give me that sharpened sword to slay these demons that besiege me in the night. Caress me in the way you do, arise in me the fire that lights the way home. Show me the star that guides me back to you and I shall follow it for eternity. Fan the winds of love that fill my lonely sails and I shall follow those winds to eternity.

Shout my name from high above and feel me hold your heart forever. Write our names upon the bluest skies so that even God can see. Know that though my limbs seem weak at this moment, the strength within me remains intact. Know that when your demons come you can count on me to hold your space or slay them where they stand. Know that when the air becomes too thin my arms were made to carry you. Know that when the moments darkest to the eyes arrive, you will feel my hand in yours and you will never doubt that place again.

These struggles are both a curse and an opportunity. I rise to this challenge, and beg those demons face me. I seek no shelter from this storm save your loving heart, and I seek no surrender from the test save that moment when you arrive. Then, the sword and shield shall fall to the ground and I will hold you. As it was meant to be.

In you I have found safe harbor, and with you I have found the way home. Worry not, your man was built to endure without a shred of falter in his quest. So while this night may be unkind know that all I need do is breathe in your name, close my eyes to see your face, and snarl in the face of such oppressors. Slay them I shall, and then I shall carve your name on their chests just to see their hearts melt as mine has. That is the power of love both destined and gifted to our two mortal hearts by the gods themselves.

No truth exists greater than I love you. Now, off to the battle surely to be waged.

Love Dialog (Working Title)

October 31, 2018 / Tom

In the moment of torment, I write. But I also write in the moment of bliss.

Which moment is this? Sometimes they are the same.

Love has come to me. It has come to me in the most beautiful way I know. Deeply spiritual, it reminds me of something strange in it familiarity. I’ve known this Love before, just not in this lifetime.

Dear God, help me remember. Help me understand. Help me get out of my own way.

Oh, Tom. You beautiful soul. You are a Being simply being human. What you focus on is your business. You are the master of your experience, now get to experiencing. Do not abdicate control of your ship to the currents without a fight. You have not been created to surrender to your mind unless you choose to. It’s all perfect, we have prepared you for this each and every day of your life. Now, it is up to you to decide which port you sail to; the one where fear resides or the one where you found Love.

How do I decide? I feel so confused.

You are there already, you just don’t know it yet. You made this choice long ago, even before your birth. You are conflicted because of what has happened since you made the choice. Those distractions are what are torturing you now. You think about changing your mind, but your mind is the problem. You cannot change your heart, you can only break it through the mental stones you through at it. Is that what you’ve spent your life struggling for? To break your own heart with stones on which past images are painted?

No. I am afraid.

Afraid of what, my love? Afraid of what may happen? Silly, isn’t it. Look at what is happening. The sea is calm where you are. The Sun is shining. The gulls are singing across your bow and the ship is seaworthy. You have nourishment. You are loved. What are you afraid of?

I don’t know…

Oh, you know alright. You begin being afraid by being afraid to admit it.

It’s hard…

I don’t get it. It’s hard to let it out and easier to keep it in? See stones in your mind, those painted with the past, serve two purposed. First, you throw them at your heart and often break it in the process. Second, you build walls with them. You think you are safe behind them when, in reality, you are in more danger there than anywhere outside of them.

How so?

What infests within those walls can kill you. They can eat you alive. They can infect you. Sure, there is danger outside of those walls, but it pales in comparison to the danger that lurks inside of it. The whole reason those walls were built is an infestation. You were built to run wild in the forest, and sail wildly on the sea. You were not created to hide behind walls of any kind, so living contrary to your purpose will be the end of you.

I understand.

So, what are you afraid of?

Come on, you can do it…

I paused for a long breath. Sometimes crossing a threshold of a door you’ve kept closed for a lifetime is harder than just staying in the room you’ve rotted away in. Yet, I’ve never been able to do things the easy way.

Tommy, are you still with us?

Yes.

Trust us. We know what we are doing.

Fine. I am afraid of the pain. I am afraid of the sadness. I am afraid of not being good enough, of failing the one I love, of being discarded, of not being strong enough. I’m afraid I may not survive. I’m afraid I may crumble. I’m afraid of dying unloved. I’m afraid of fucking losing my heart. I’m afraid, ok? Nothing scares me but this.

But you have felt this way before, right? When you were a firefighter?

Yes, I trained hard because I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to save someone. I was afraid of failing them and the ones that love them. There was a difference though. I didn’t put them in their situation. I didn’t cause the problem.

But you were there to save them, no?

Yes.

And when you couldn’t?

It broke me up inside. I would apologize to nothing each and every time. I would hide my sorrow, but I it would affect me to my core. I would try to figure out what I could have done differently to save them.

And?

There was nothing. Nothing I could do. I was helpless. Fuck…helpless.

Like when you were a boy?

Fuck you.

Stay with us here. You’ve got this.

Yes, like when I was a boy.

Do you feel helpless in love?

Sometimes. Sometimes I feel empowered.

What makes the difference?

Another long pause. Courage sometimes needs to be mustered, especially when you’ve known the answer for so long and never wanted to admit it.

Being considered. Or not.

Again, like when you were a boy and a young man?

Yes, exactly like that.

We remember. So, when you are not considered you feel unloved?

I guess so.

Tommy…

Fine, yes.

But you do know that you are always considered?

In my heart I do. In my mind, not so much. I get it though, my mind is breaking my heart, destroying what it knows. Yes, I know I am considered.

If you ever need proof, our Son, remember that you are alive. Every living thing is considered. Every living thing is special. Your creation is a testament of how highly you are considered.

I get it.

People may not consider you. Mostly, it’s because they don’t feel considered themselves. You know that adage saying that in order to love others you need to love yourself? That is true with everything that has to do with your experience. If you believe it, you will project it. Do not worry, your Love considers you. Your Love values you as much as Love values herself.

Ok.

Tommy, do you trust yourself?

Huh?

Do you trust yourself?

Usually. Yes.

We’d suggest that in those moments when you are not trusting your Love and the process, you are not trusting yourself. You are losing faith in you and, in turn, losing faith in Love. Go back to Love. Have faith in yourself in love. Trust yourself in all you’ve done and will do. Don’t let the mind throw stones or build walls, and guess what will happen.

What?

Love in eternity. She’s waiting for you there.

entropy

October 30, 2018 / Tom

We are not here just to be comfortable.
We are here to be scared.
Scared out of our minds
And into our hearts,
Where love exists,
And where you and I shall dwell forever.

Come, dance with me,
Let me feel your soft flesh in my arms,
Your breath on my chest
As we spin to music of our making,
Loving in the sound,
Turning noise into the sweetest harmony.

Come, lay with me,
Take the open heart of your man,
And care for it,
No monsters here to squander this,
Just the light of now
Radiating brightly into tomorrow, a holy balance.

Come, sit with me,
See that star shining, rising into day?
There, the smallest specs of nothing much,
Collide into something seen forever,
Like you and I,
In the natural flow outside our weary minds.

Today, we agree to stand together,
Slaying dragons as they come,
Basking in the sunlight,
Dancing in the moonlight,
The flesh united lights the soul on fire,
The sky need not be dark forever.

The soul that’s slave to fear,
Loses sight of the light within,
The soul that’s afraid to be human,
Loses sight of its sacred purpose,
The man who fears his shadow,
Loses sight of the Sun above.

If there is love,
They will be togetherness,
Sometimes crawling, sometimes running,
Sometimes just resting on a bench,
Writing words they know as truth,
Cuddling in the autumn air.

If there is togetherness,
There will be love,
Casting dispersion all aside,
Relishing in the triumph of their footfalls,
On once-barren soil,
Where now marigolds bloom in all their glory.

We fear the dreams we see as nightmares,
Hide behind some masquerading voice of fear,
Pretending its love is all but assured.
Yet keeping us from the water our souls
Were born to drink.

Maybe it is just time to trust,
Throw caution to the wind,
Like colored leaves on a city trail,
The winds scattering about a warrior’s intention,
Meaningless he is to the wind,
Stoic blood stains the altar where he stands.

Whichever, an understanding.
One which will birth his tears,
Tears of joy or tears of sorrow,
Only the ether knows which are due,
His flesh torn,
Either in ecstasy or the darkness of the night.

Whichever, he has seen both before,
Once fierce, protecting souls
Now have left him abandoned,
His solitary fears left unguarded,
His solitary tears left unrestrained,
He could not tell the difference.

Maybe it is time to stand,
Be counted in the hourglass’ sands,
Am I just a grain,
Or am I the entire shore?
Which to you would I be,
And which to you matters most of all?

Ah, to those doubters I say,
Her beloved, what a beautiful thing to be,
I cannot help what truth burdens a heart,
Ripped from the chest of its contentment,
I cannot help what tears the wings,
Of an angel born to love you.

Please laugh with me,
The challenge that I’ve issued,
Hollow in its force, and bewildered in its song,
Is just an ego poking at a Lion,
I mean nothing save the space that we do share,
I see nothing but your smile that melts my soul.

Honestly, there is nowhere I can go,
Save to you,
There is no answer that I hear,
Other than the one that spells your name,
No truth I dare to say,
Other than the one we’ve found together.

I thank you for indulging,
A certain part of me that wonders,
That part of my heart,
That beats its black and blue.
There is nothing here but love,
Certainty, truth and honor in its making.

Life is Love

October 29, 2018 / Tom

The beauty of a simple life.

Life is sitting on a bench with you, writing stories that never end. Life is walking on paths with you that seem to go on forever, laughing about the simple things and imagining ourselves as the older couple we see walking up ahead. Life is togetherness. Life is love. Life is living a simple truth no matter how complicated it seems to be.

Life is kissing your neck when the Sun rises us from sleep. Life is holding you in moments of despair, of joy, of triumph and of tragedy. Life is holding space for you when the second-hand seems too loud. Life is cooking for you when you are tired, caring for you when you are ill, and standing next to you when it seems the world has turned against us. Life is being your anchor when the world around us shakes us to our core.

Life is running down to meet you with an umbrella in the rain and clearing your car after a snowfall. Life is getting under that cozy blanket with you when the cold winds howl. Life is feeling that harmless snowball hit me in the back, and then seeing the footprints we leave behind as I chase you for the win. Life is drawing hearts in the snow and sand with your name on it, and that kiss you give me when you read the message I leave that only you could understand.

Life is hearing you read a passage from a book you love, and watching you paint a picture from the other room. Life is answering your call, and feeling you stir when you fall asleep beside me. Life is seeing your excitement when you’ve shared that something new, and in marveling at your perfection when you crumple exhausted on a chair.

Life is waiting for you as you wonder through the fields you much travel. I want to slow down when the seas become too rough. I want to sit in silence with the words have been too many. I want to be there when you finally figure it all out, and rejoice with you when the answers seem to make perfect sense. Life is when you wrap your arms around me as you realize over and over again, that we were created to share in this simple life. Together.

Life resounds in honoring you, in hearing what you need and always doing my best not to fail you. Life is sitting in awe of you, in the way you do your thing, even when I can’t understand the process. Life is trying my best to understand, even when my mind can’t grasp it all.

In life we find love and in love we find life. I found life in loving you, and found loving you in life. Two connected things are certain gifts of the Universe, and in honoring both I find gratitude and a resolve to be the best I can be in any given moment.

Peace.

A Lover’s Prayer

October 27, 2018 / Tom

Love.

Though the words have not come easily for me lately, my heart demands these be written.

I love you.

In the end, what else matters? In the end, though the space besides me is empty, the space within me feels you everywhere. In the end, though the room around me lays silent, the room within me is filled with sounds of you. In the end, though the words have not flowed easily, my heart bleeds words of you with every beat.

That is the beauty of things for us. Now I want to sleep for I’ve always held you there. Now I close my eyes, for I’ve always seen you in the darkness. Now I offer myself to Hypnos, for she’s always let me kiss you throughout the night.

If, by some chance, I am fortunate enough to wake I can only pray I’m better tomorrow than I was today. I can only wish upon my waking breath that you feel me, and that you know that a man loves you beyond all stories of his mind and above each rung of his misgivings. The miles seem uncountable, but the truth is you’ve always been the closest thing I’ve known.

If waking is not part of the plan, I will have departed this world knowing love in its fullest way. I will have tasted something wonderful on your lips, and I will have felt an amazing grace in the eyes of this soul’s mate. You are Paradise found in the midst of hell, and as I have already walked on the plains of heaven beside you, I am not certain of what would be left for me beyond.

I have been to this mountaintop, and I have seen the promised land. I may never get there, but the sight of it demands my loyalty. The love within me demands my respect, and you…well you will always have my commitment as long as you want it. There can be no other.

Good night and know this writer pens his words from a place few can ever know, from a place you have touched and a place where you have carved your name forever. I wish I had more to offer.

Love.

Midnight Sun

October 25, 2018 / Tom

Waiting for the midnight Sun,
To paint those mountains white,
A single soul in solemn prayer,
As the day is born from night.

When darkness cedes its destiny,
To the calling of the Sun,
It's the Warrior who's standing firm,
Against the chaos the night has done.

For in his stubborn heart a truth,
Learned from wicked, bleeding scars,
That nothing can provide his heart,
What resides in midnight stars. 

To his love he knows that he'll be true,
To his soul he knows the same,
To the voices that try to break his heart,
He just stands and says her name.

For no truer path has this man walked,
Though he's traveled very far,
It's when the night hides the path below,
He just looks up to find that star.

When the darkness turns to blue,
And the warrior can sleep,
He dreams of a certain poet's touch,
And other things so deep.

Yet when the night returns again,
And the evening has begun,
He stands so firm and knows his truth,
She is his midnight Sun.

When Poets Love

October 24, 2018 / Tom

Do not forget the power of love in the spaces that you share. Embrace that heart with all your might, and kiss those lips with the pure tenderness your soul projects. Stand firm in your resolve, but do so with a love and patience that speaks to your truth, that you love this person and, in love, all things are possible.

Know that in the moments when the winds whip you into uncertainty that your lover has your back. Know that when you search for a ray of light in the middle of the night, you will hear his voice. Know that when you awaken with the Sun that he will feel you and take your hand just to let you know he is dreaming about you.

Poets love in a special way. With passion, and a uniqueness that would drive others away. They feel every part of their lover in each word they offer, even when those words don’t come close to telling the entire story. They know life deeply, can can smell the colors in the forest and hear the fragrance of each flower bloomed. When they are lucky enough to find each other in the mist of life, a single caress writes volumes on their skin. They know each other well, and they love like no other can.

Such is the curse of a poet. They understand much even as they are misunderstood even more. They see things that are mostly unseen, and feel things most have grown numb to. When they fall in love with each other, there is nothing quite like it and few things more powerful in the Universe. Through the toils of their own humanity they write poems with their tears, and often surrender their hearts to the fires that burn within them.

I leave her with a word, one of many I will write and many I will share along the way. I take another poet’s truth because, well, I share it in this instance. See, we poets share more than just our time in this existence. We also share a soul.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. ~Pablo Neruda.

The End

October 22, 2018 / Tom

In a salty dream,
He sees you walking, walking in the woods,
Forever lost in some whimsical story,
Writing it as you go along,
Picking colorful leaves up from the ground,
Painting a lover's canvas with a kiss,
Distance closed, love has met the truth indeed.

Truth in distance is forgotten,
In the touch of love's sweet hand,
The agony of demons since begotten,
He is lost in the dizziness,
Swirling as the earth spins and the bell tolls,
The stars become a blur before before eyes,
What lies before him surely not withstanding.

Who is he to tear at weathered cloths,
The veils birthed to keep you warm?
His gloved hand comes poking through the smoke,
Born to hold so tenderly,
But empty, the soul's voice cries out
There is nothing he can do...
But succumb to the raging inferno surrounding.

Frightened like a child,
He hears the voices echo beyond the walls,
Demands the voice within him,
To tear down all in his way,
Those voices...run as he nears them,
The walls appear thicker to the touch.
You seem further than you've ever felt before.

As the fire burns around him,
His thoughts go back to the moment when,
He first touched your hand,
Held you closely outside the elevator doors,
Your nervous voice lifting him beyond,
Your eyes driving him deeper into love.
Forget nothing, his heart forever changed.

Awakened still, 
He feels the embers falling on his soul,
Calling out your name, 
Perhaps with his last breath...
The voices on the other side
Still taunting him with the failure of his quest.
Laughing, haunting forever etched upon his stone.

The walls begin falling all around,
He feels them falling before they break his wanting bones,
Still, he remembers how the leaves looked falling behind your face,
How your smile made heaven seem so real,
To touch your hand once more...
To hear you shout your love for him to the stars above.

Around him, though, the silence he has dreaded.
The calm before the storm,
Save the mocking laughter of the voices from beyond.
All that was is all that he will ever have.
What he had hoped for will remain as just a dream,
Just another step is all he needs,
But alas his legs shall fail him. 

When the end comes, he shall be ready.
He has seen his lover's face,
And felt her nearer than his heart.
Through the haze of this mortal calling,
He can only hope he's given her his all,
And his all is what she's found in loving dreams.

No air left to fill his lungs,
Destruction surely to engulf him,
A tear falls, a testament to his final thought...
Just a second more, just one more memory,
Kiss me as the night does fall,
Sing to me your sweetest lullaby.
The leaves fall slowly in his mind.

The end.

A Story of their Own

October 18, 2018 / Tom

Let it not be for man to squander the opportunity to love. Love is like a flower whose petals may wilt and whose stems may fall to the ground, yet whose fragrance lives on forever.

With such humility and virtue, he stands before a goddess. Though wounded by time and humanity, he is blessed to be wandering with a kindred who knows well his journey. They walk both together and alone on their way to wholeness, learning that those struggles they’ve endured have now made them strong to the task of seeing their light shine, in the way it must, born to light up the sky.

There is no fear in their space, despite the whirlwind that surrounds them. Embraced upon the sacred ground on which they stand, the voice of love sings Her lullaby, and the Universe conspires on their behalf with the passion of great creation. Out of the ashes have arisen two souls who have watched the world around them burn, yet are now alive to write a story all their own.

Like a flower, he has knelt in humble gratitude to inhale her essence. He has dropped his shield and sheathed his sword in favor of having untethered arms to embrace her. He’s wiped the dust from his lips to kiss her, and shaken the dried mud from his flesh as to not stain her soul. With the truth of a Stoic soul within him he does nothing but love this woman, and with the strength of a warrior he protects the sanctity of her fragrance with the life within him. Never has he basked in such a light as her, and never has a scent been so strong as to move him toward that place where the Sun will rise.

Like a mountain stream, she has bathed in him and tasted the life which flows freely within him. She floats about his space as he holds her firm, and she freely finds her shore when the earth calls out her name. When she thirsts he is her drink, and in her way she realizes that even a tortoise can run when the thirst becomes too great. Never before has she felt such a thirst, and never before has such a pureness filled her soul with love.

Despite what was, they live in what is, which will always lead to what will be. With great care for each other, and for themselves, they begin their story. The introduction over, each page turned will lead them to a masterful epilogue, for they realize that despite all of the stories they’ve once written that this is a story of their own.

“I once had a thousand desires. But in my one desire to know you all else melted away.” ― Rumi