Purpose is Fueled by Desires

What brings you joy? What is the one thing that stops time for you, and makes you come alive? What would you be doing if you had all the money in the world to pursue? What is the hobby or dream or talent that you wish you could do always…all day long?

For me it’s writing, especially about meeting people. It’s the words that come alive on the screen as I piece together a story…and the things I feel take shape in a way that transport me to a single moment in time.

It’s memories and how a touch, a smile or someone’s kind word transforms me. Those moments get to live in my computer or journals. They flow effortlessly out of me as I tend to them with sentences.

I’ve done many things in my life. I’ve worn many different hats. I’ve owned companies and have worked myself into pure exhaustion. I’ve gained and lost and expanded. The one thing that brings me back to life is writing every morning after my meditation practice. It’s in these times of pure conscious awareness/awakening that I can clearly see my purpose.

Then it’s gone. It leaves me quickly when life begins to reappear outside of my little Cosmic world.

The kids need me. The bills need tending. The laundry piles up. The house has to get clean. I have to get to work. The hubby needs something. And life happens. To each one of us, it’s one thing or another.

There is purpose in the mundane routine but it doesn’t make us come alive. Cleaning a toilet for me isn’t as inspiring as sharing a story or writing about speaking to my higher self and guidance. Folding laundry isn’t as fulfilling as speaking with someone who needs a cheerleading session in love or a lift to feel that they matter.

Pay attention to those things that make you smile and fuel your passion. One day (soon as I continue to super manifest) I will be collecting stories, full time, from different corners of the world.

Now you…go write down those things that you dream about and start working on making them real. Reality is always available once we place our purpose on our top priority list. And remember not to stop living in the now by obsessing about tomorrow or regretting yesterday. You have purpose in all you do, and you deserve to live a life that brings you endless love and passion.

I love you.

The Ness of It All

Tucking my hair behind my ears,

caressing my bangs over my eyes,

you checked in constant assurance

that I always heard and saw you.

Your hands guided my chin upward

so my eyes could share

the unspoken truth…

I was forever present with your one-ness.

Memories immortalize moments,

freezing scenes of tender-ness,

loving-ness and kind-ness

while all else now falls

in helpless-ness  to a backdrop

of what is now real life.

Words echo,

I was everything to you

and I haven’t been ever since

to anyone else…

Oh, yes, there have been lovers

who crafted beautifully the arts

of rapture,

passion,

ecstasy,

gratification…

but the nothing-ness,

the ever so encompassing-ness

of allowing me

to love endlessly

without holding back

buried itself with you

long ago.

When I permit myself

the act of giving

I am returned with akward-ness–

a full disclosure

that you are not in them,

and I am not in me as well.

Luckily stories re-enact

in little sleepless nights

through visions

of what may never be again

but always live in fond-ness:

I was truly treasured

in whole-ness by you.

The Cage

 

He clutched my heart,

held it as a possession,

while I realized it was the only

substance of keeping us there –

the togetherness beyond

the understanding

and disturbance in such obsession.

It was our lifeline

binding and supporting a mystery,

a lesson,

and a difficult experience.

Impatience and immaturity

called for the ecstasy

that would bring in high’s,

drugging and filling me

with such blinding addiction.

It wasn’t the moments,

nor the times,

or what the body desired,

craving over and over

to fill the emptiness

with sweet desperation.

It was a tight grip that secured

the chemistry in our question mark–

I was the mark and he was the period:

two souls joined in a falsified passion

but held apart by the reality

that this would never end in fairness.

To love so deeply requires

the loosing of one’s vulnerability,

entrusting the universe to take over

with easement.

Somewhere, somehow, I knew

it would never last

as he became my lungs

and I could no longer breathe

on my own.

Control and restraint

have no business

taking residence in such a union,

occupying a broken heart

and trying to repeat the same drama

of past manipulation.

He was the clutch that invited me to give

and I was the ground that supported

him to receive.

It was a mutual contract

between us:

I played the ailing patient,

he was the willing doctor

who would fix the damage,

trying to erase the existence

of any other man who had

explored my territory.

The moments were here and there.

At some point

the soul opened up, grew wings,

and flew out of the adorned cage

that he cautiously created for me.

Once freed,

the heart, wisdom, and spirit

found the freedom

that would never allow imprisonment

again…

it was then that divinity unlocked

the secret

that love is never contained,

or possessed

because it is all there is.

It is all there will ever be.

Love Letter

In the midst of all turmoil
I find love folding over us
like a love letter
sealed with a kiss
and fragrance with
the sweetest smell of lust.

I find your words wrapped
around my skin
in continuous poetic phrases
savoring my very essence.

I find your tongue licking
my paragraphs and whispering
sweet and dirty nothings
before signing your name
on my back
and folding me in tiny pieces
to carry in your pocket.

Collection of Moments

intimacy

As I sat, listening

to your words,

following gestures –

lines connecting,

detaching, intersecting,

circling all around you

passionately expressing

details of where you’ve been

in such joyous promptitude

I wondered how it felt

to be you.

 

How do the stories,

words, and thoughts

file inside the memory

of such a gentle soul?

How amazing to carry

those moments,

retracting them

at a push of a thought.

 

Each of us remain connected

by an action,

a lapse in time,

a twinkling pace

causing a scene for

later viewing

alone in personal time

full of tears or giggles.

 

Your smile paused

the very thought of me

noticing the attentiveness.

In such erratic tone,

the seconds lasted an eternity

when you leaned in,

closed your eyes,

kissed me for the first time

and my moment

was quickly filed under “Love.”

The Need to Find Home

growth

“Wisdom tells me I am nothing.  Love tells me I am everything.  And between the two my life flows.” – Nisargadatta Maharaj

I have been self-absorbed lately, so much to the point of trying to find purpose on a life I’ve created from love, faith and the awareness of lessons. Ever since I was a child I have always known what I wanted from life. I’ve never been without goals. Except now I am looking for “home” through the internal maze of consciousness. I am not depressed.  I have bouts of sadness at times because of loss, changes, and those who have come and gone, leaving me to question my humanity. I am left to question my character and how I have been part of others and their drama. But, I am aware that we all live through this because it sums the total of our lives. Without reflection and deep introspect we are nothing.

I was driving back from town early this morning and out of the blue, tears began to flow. I was overcome with joy, giddiness and something else. I know there is no such thing as “out of the blue” because inside of each one of us we know the answer to every moment, feeling, and choice. Our psyche will form false illusions through ego, but we all have the answers. I pulled to the side of the road shaking off “the whatever issue” that was strangulating me. Even though it felt good it also felt sad. It is that “whatever” attitude that brought me into releasing the tears. I was admiring the scenery coming up the mountain as the sun was casting minimal light through the fog making the bright colored leaves even more magnificent. I began to say the word, “home,” out loud.

I am home. At this moment I look back at a some very difficult years. I’ve had to re-establish my sense of identity and my purpose as things have evolved. Every change and challenge has pushed me to question my sanity, beliefs, and connections. I’ve made plans and now have had to deviate from many of them. However, the new journey has been delicious because it has shown me other parts of myself. But, at times thoughts transpire and I recognize them as small hiccups that push the internal needs to frustration.

The Divine has reshaped the map to the future with some humorous points. At times I see the irony and humor in the childish idea that I have control of my life. The joke is on me! I realize what home is now. I see it through the faces of loved ones, the places I’ve lived and the memories collected throughout my days. Home is deeper than a place of residence. It is something in me that remembers and settles with ease. This could be through anything. Home is the essence of who I am.

Something happened when I had the near-death experience almost three years ago. Something significant came back with me deleting all sense of fear. Normal problems now seem ridiculously dramatic circumstances trying to push my higher evolution to learn quicker. In this state of awkwardness I let things fall too easily at times, while at other times they grab a hold of me and suck the air out leaving a vast emptiness with answers to no questions. I don’t understand the struggle here on earth. I don’t comprehend the suffering. Where I went in those moments of leaving my physical body I was at peace.  I was engulfed by a light of love. Nothing compares to that. And this morning as I witnessing the reds, oranges and yellows on the mountains, I recognized that sense of awesomeness that must be experienced as I let go. I keep surrendering with constant clarity that whatever is ahead is rigged in my favor.

I want to live fully. I want to live to the highest desire of my authentic soul. I want to live with passion even when I have no clue to what is ahead. I want to watch sunrises and sunsets as often as I can. I want to see my children grow old, experiencing the magnificence of life. I want my friends around me through the tough and easy times. I want to drink wine, slack off, chase fairies at night, have fun, and still be responsible to know better. I want to keep waking up every morning to the smell of this body aging, growing, and expanding. I want my mate to hold me, touch me gently, wipe my cares and tell me that we will be together until we are not. I want to be guided my synchronicity and serendipity. I want to live a life that is meaningful to that light I witnessed as snow was falling outside of the hospital. I want to continue to hear autumn leaves wrestling while mimicking the sound of rain. I want to experience the changing of four seasons for sixty-something more years. I want to look in the mirror and see the best of me that no other person will ever see. I want to meet strangers and give them a smile to take with them. I want to continue to want things that money can’t buy. I want to stop the urgency of hurt in others and let them know that they are not alone.

Life is truly a bitch at times, but we get this incredible opportunity to make it whatever we want. This is our home. This is my home. Mass consciousness carries energy and it’s time to alter the negative vibes and make them positive ones.

I have become little in my “knowing” while constantly being bombarded by my guides and the remnants of passing souls on a day-to-day basis. It’s not easy to live among the living and still have a foot firmly planted through the veils of reality. I returned from that other dimension with a keen awareness of the miracle of consciousness. There is no description that can do justice to the world outside of this physical one.

Even all these years later I try to make sense of my need to go home when I see beauty unfolding as I did this morning. I continue to struggle with fitting in my body while feeling comfortable in my skin and those around me. I have this achy feeling of not belonging in this reality where the complaints outweigh the contentment in humanity. I haven’t a clue of what I want, as I used to, for so long in my life. There is no grounding until we wake up as spiritual beings. I feel that clearly nudging at me through meditation. There are people truly battling the claws of death through illnesses and they are holding on to life with passion (sometimes through fear). I am blessed to have a chance to stay here and breathe one more day.

We, in this human form, waste so much precious time expecting others to make us happy, tell us what we need and should do, and give us a reason to wake every morning. We live with constant stress of perfection that doesn’t exist. We want to know without having to walk the path. There’s no way! It’s better to live with the wisdom of experience, the open heart of love and the in-between world of accepting that we are spiritual beings having a human experience. It’s okay. It is in that world that, I guess, I find home time and time again. The sadness comes and goes. Joy and grace visit just as often. I will continue to move through this world holding tightly to what I do know is true for me.

As I type this I am witnessing the essence of earth dancing outside. This is the quietude of presence that assures me that what’s to come is beyond anything I could imagine. It’s in that anticipation that the willingness to continue spoils me and brings me joy. Won’t you meet me there? Grab a hold of your truth and let it evolve into the best you there will ever be. Your thoughts are ripples in the waves of mass consciousness. Together we will make this place home!

Fairyologist on Duty

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I just recently became a Certified Fairyologist. Yes, there is such a thing and for my birthday my hubby enrolled me on Doreen Virtues’ online class. Now you may ask, “What does a Fairyologist do?” This is a valid question. I don’t really know what they do except what was taught on the class: history of fairies and how to live among them.  I can only tell you what I do and who I am in regards to nature. I am a play-in-the-mud-jump-in-the-creeks-sing-silly-songs-wear-tutus-and-love-everyone eccentric type of gal. I don’t take myself seriously.  I have a quick wit and find entertainment just about everywhere I go. I respect Mother Earth. I feel grounded being outdoors. I love to get lost in hikes, travel to new places, talk to people, hear their stories, and enjoy the silliness that’s out in the world. I am not here to tell you how you should live, but I can surely provide some entertainment on what works for me. I am not much for adulting these days. I have little respect for the stressful life, and anything that helps me release burdens…I am on that path.

I have raised six children and now raising a 2 year old (number 7). Now in midlife, she’s teaching me to revert into childhood and take no crap from social programming. She keeps reminding me what it is to view the world from the simplicity of innocence. She is reminding me how we all come in with such incredible awareness and gifts. It’s in those moments that she has become my hero. Children have a magical way of focusing on this. They react to the world around them with curiosity. “Forget that over there!” They don’t worry about tomorrow. They are consumed with the over stimulation of play and what’s right in front of them. They change their minds one minute at a time. They celebrate life through the smallest of things, like picking up a rock. They can observe a worm moving for an hour. They don’t see fear. They accept what is right in their vision. They are the greatest source of spiritual connection available to us.

As I finished the course and got my “certification” things have shown up. The ideas have run overboard and I am trying to find a way to organize the things I can do with my Fairy Whispers and Play. I want to do workshops on how to live life guided by the joy from your inner child. Let’s face it, this “adulting” business is pretty intense! We have forgotten what it is that we wanted to become as children. We forget how to play because there is always a to-do list, a set of rules, work, schedules, children, parents, spouses and the constant derailing of responsibilities. We forget that art, writing, music, and all sorts of creating weren’t gifts for childhood. They are gifts for our entire lives. We didn’t come into this life to spend the first 13 years, or so, being one way and then disregard our desires, passion, and dreams. That’s an instruction via society that is false and corrupted. We are here to follow our bliss, and when we do, mysticism follows.  We create our stories.  We are shaped by them.

I am embarking in a new life. I cannot describe the pathway. I can see it clearly but don’t quite know where it will take me. Meantime, I am putting together a program to see if I can actually help the contagious spirit of laughter, play, and creation. How did we ever forget that our happiness comes from our inner child? And, yes, many of you have had some disastrous upbringings. We have all been wired and programmed to believe that “growing up” means “not participating in child play.” That’s okay! The beauty of programming and beliefs can be altered with conscious awareness. You have the power to dream, visualize and create the life you always wanted.

How do you get there?

By being truthful with how you are right now. If you aren’t happy then it’s time to see what’s stumping your dreams. Things don’t change over night, but your perception and acceptance of decisions can begin to create a plan. This plan is what can help gather your wits, joy, freedom and a new beginning. Sometimes fear of success is what stops us from performing. We are all waiting for failure. That’s a given…but how many of us can actually move through the voices of our pasts and be willing to lose ourselves in our childhood dreams again?

Change starts and ends with your inner child. Holding that little girl/boy, and assuring him/her that you have a handle on this is the first step to creating a space of joy. Taking a new hobby, making time for yourself (even if only 30 minutes a week), or joining a group of like-minded folks is recharging for your spirit.  There are ways to open up the memories of who you are and what you have forgotten for so long.  There are tools to release the hurt and move through the joy. You are not alone.  You can finally set those dreams in motion.  It’s never too late to be what you were suppose to be before the world told you otherwise.  It’s never too late to be that child again.

I am working on a some things that can bring you joy. I hope you have allowed your little person to laugh today. I hope you have done something magical and empowering while looking at life just a little different. Go get yourself some multi-colored-silly glasses and let’s begin the adventure!  Let’s meet up in a playground soon!

Printed Composition

I do not choose to write, whereas writing has chosen me as some sort of instrument from Spirit.  It is the extension of words projected in a form of kindness, humility, but familiar echo, in a release similar to meditation. The words that I write are woven threads into a quilt of human emotion.  They are not meant to shock or awaken anything.  They exist on a page as a thought-provoking tool.  Many times, they exist just to allow me to help myself.

There are times that I go days without writing and a part of me goes numb.  As soon as I start to write again, my spirit comes alive.  There are also moments throughout the night that a poem awakes me, nagging, pulling and wanting my attention.  The more I ignore it, the less I can rest.  It is only when I give into its calling that I can finally release magic into my life.

Do these words do their job?  I don’t quite know for sure but every so often something penetrates or touches the person reading it.  I don’t know how they come out or how I write them.  God speaks through each letter, word, paragraph and message.  I often read them and I am in awed at the simplicity, yet the complexity of some of the messages through poetry, essays or in my private journals.  Some are deeper than others, these conclusions and examples of my life.  Some are intended for me alone and I choose not to share them.  I am to hold on to them and years later (as it has happened many times) re-read them and the message has pertained with such faith and knowledge that it is beyond me to understand.

Looking back at the trail of human emotions in my life, I see the pattern of words changing; yet they are synonyms for the same messages.  They are right in front of my eyes and, like difficult pieces of a puzzle, the words must be placed in correct alignment.  It is easier said than done.  I don’t pretend to know it all.  I write to survive.  Writing is like morphine to my nervous system.  It calls on me to let the dance of emotions out onto a page.  I am surprised each time I finish a piece of work.  I am also shocked when I share it.  Finally in this stage of my life, I allow another to judge or witness my spirit through my writings.

I write because life is just like the poems — very complex and overly rated because we make it that way.  There are too many of our efforts side-tracking our intents.  I see my life from another view when I write.  I understand it much better.  I accept it easier.  With all my faults, neurotic behavior, and traumas there is peace inside. It is there inside my soul echoing to help others find their path if just by sharing a small example of an unfinished life.  We are connected in this way.  We get to travel similar paths.

This is my passion: these words on a screen.  As I write this, I pray for the many people who don’t believe in searching for their passion.  I write in order to survive my journey.  It has picked me.  I know that the many times I have avoided placing those words on paper anger and frustration becomes too much to handle.

Few things I know for sure and one of them is that I have been presented with this ability. I don’t take credit for it because it comes from Source.  I am just the messenger.  How and what I do with it is my choice.  As I write these words I know in the pit of my heart that I am deeply blessed.  There is no mistake about it.  I don’t suffer from depression but when the anxiety of the unknown kicks inside the only way to control the attack is to let go through the composition of letters, words, and paragraphs.  And I hope and pray that, you, reading this can find an outlet to the stories of your life and learn to live with passion.

I thank you for joining me here, in the space between the comas and periods. I am blessed for those who return and express that they have received a message of hope. This is why I write…to send my love out into the universe in hopes that someone catches it in their hearts. Mucho love….Millie

Passionate Silence

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CAID_2iKO5Y&feature=youtu.be

I watched a video today of an artist Marina Abramovic. I felt a sudden tug and ache that left me speechless. “At the 1:30 mark, Ulay, her former lover for many years sits down across from her. Marina and Ulay broke up more than 30 years ago and this is the first time that they have seen each other again since then. This was obviously an emotional and shocking moment for her, and as you can see, she tries to carry on until the end, but seems almost unable to. I was fighting back tears myself with this one. This is really beautiful.”

At times silence speaks louder than any other sound. It leaves you breathless. It pulls, shifts and forces other emotions to appear through a cascade of inexplicable reactions. I have felt these moments with my children on countless occasions; witnessing a loved one transcending into death; pain; loss; grief; and in this case nostalgia from a past lover. Passion is not exclusive to sexual energy. Passion bleeds into our lives through words and the lack of their sound. Passion is the kaleidoscope of colorful hidden emotions that push every part of the soul into an explosion. A life without passion might as well be hell. I cannot imagine not feeling this urgency of rhapsody for something in this path.

I have been blessed to experience so many moments similar to this one when love returns in a way that each cell comes alive through a hundred different emotions. And, the only way to release the conjunction of passion is through tears, touch, and silence. Passion is birthed through joy, sorrow, and a fire that moves the soul to a higher level. I don’t know how to explain that flutter of heart that magnifies each breath to another dimension.

Two souls can exit and re-enter each others’ lives many times. It doesn’t mean that they belong together. It doesn’t mean that they do not. It just means that there is unfinished karmic issues that continue to bring forth an adoring rapture. I have witnessed it through folks who dated in high school and then reunite many years later and married. I have seen it in passing events with a glance at a store, on a train, or at a stop light. Passion moves through the outer layers of the body. It’s beautiful to witness. It’s even lovelier to experience first hand.

Don’t allow life to pass you by without following that one thing or person who made you smile and come alive. There’s no need to go backwards in time. There’s no need to rehash what will never work out. But, keep refueling the fire in you that takes you to a higher calling. Keep that in your heart. A life without passion is not worth living. It doesn’t matter what you do with it but allow your soul to find that thing that brings a faithful purpose for the rest of your days. Mucho love to all!