When you feel like ****;
and nothing seems to cure it;
do not be ashamed;
it's just bad brain chemicals;
If you breathe deeply;
the pain will go away soon;
to replace you with;
a temporary relief;
that can carry you;
and all of your family;
onto the next day;
With a hope that just maybe;
a doctor will see;
that all you really need is;
love, sun, quiet, peace.

out of the darkness they carry my heart
into the dawn, as the wrens sing,
i am lifted into the light
and i see who is my maker

i see my angel who lifts me above my suffering
into as well as above my head
i am guided by the lightness of their being
to realize i am never alone; never without their compassion
even though i often feel such a lack

and as i soar through the early morning sky,
i see a new picture of myself--
whole, beautiful, gracious in my own skin
and tears of rememberence of an innocent
child i was

was so lost
but now reclaimed as an adult
now i have the power to break the chains that
keep me from True living; True love
and i am free.

My world is falling down beside my feet
What I felt so deeply was Truth and was real
Is not.
And I see a reflection of the cruelty of others
In myself. I reflect that lack of mercy
For myself.
I am running as fast as I can
And yet I cannot let go of what I run from
The very foundations of my People; my friends
Are gone.
Forever.
Now the door is closed.
Will a window open in it's place?

I dreamed of you when I was a child; thinking you were so much older than you probably are.
Years of wisdom creased your crinkled eyes in my dreams.  I felt the strength that you gave me, just by your spirit passing your courage into mine.  I felt invincible, I was a survivor because you are a survivor.  I am still a survivor because you let me go, thank you.  Thank you for letting me thrive and to be free.  As much as I would like to be with you or even hear your voice, I know I cannot.  Not in this life.  Perhaps in the afterlife, when our souls are free from all suffering, may we reunite once again, oh Birthmother.  Yoon Young-hee.  My birthmother.

Something very special is happening to the world right now.  I will do my best to describe it.
Not only are we nearing the peak of suffering, darkenss, and evil in the world, we are also
nearing a complete unfolding of the purest, truest, beauty, peace, and love that is greater
than humanity has ever experienced.  This is truely a cathartic time.  Savor it, treasure it, and learn from it.

On a personal level, since January 1st, 2015, I feel like my soul is on the brink of simulatenously bursting with
joy and love as well as sobbing in old hurts.  Sometimes when the pain and love in our hearts reaches a critical
level, a major emotional release is made and that is called a catharsis.  I have been riding along one giant,
prolonged catharsis since Jan 1st.  It is somewhat like a fantastic ****** that never ends.  How bad can that be?

The best part of my life right now is not knowing what will happen next; whom I will meet tomorrow; and what
crazy, amazing situation I will find myself in.  I have this unshakeable and deep feeling that 2015 will be a pivotal
year in my life.  It is like passing through the eye of a needle, and on the other side is the unventured, the unknowable,
the great mystery.  This is both a terror and also completley thrilling.  I sense that 2015 will be a year to remember
for humanity.  Whatever happens, will have some measurable mark on all of us.

So what do I do with this?

Enjoy it. :-)

Sitting in a meeting; the powerpoint clicking to yet another slide.
Tears well up. Breathing rate increases.  "Oh God, not here, not now".
Memories pour into your mind like a tidal wave.  
This tidal wave feels like it's going to crash out of your tear ducts.
In a singluar motion, you slip out of your chair and head to the door.
Trying not to be noticed by anyone, everyone notices you leave the room.
You make a b-line to the restroom. "Oh God, please let it be empty".  It is.
As soon as you reach the empty stall, the tears start to fall.
And then comes the sobs, the relentless, heavy, gasping sobs.
Tears and snot stream down your face.  You are worried that you will run out
of toilet paper.  

All you can do is what you have to do: weep.

You weep for all the loss you had and are still grieving in your life.
You weep because you can't take anything back.
You weep because all you ever wished was to be good, to be perfect, to be loved.

After a good 20 minutes you regain your full consciousness.  You look in the bathroom mirror.
After some good rearrangements of glasses, you stir up the last bit of tears and try to squeeze out as much sadness as you can to "get over it".
Finally, you clean up and head back into the meeting.

You are well aware that everyone will be wondering what took you so long.
You put on your armor and march to your seat.  No one looks up.  In reality, noone even noticed you were gone.  There is no pause in the disucssion.

Done.  Next slide, please?

When I am full, I am empty.
When I am empty, I can let the fullness of life's experiences touch me.
Deeply nestled in my soul is an awareness that all of what I seek I only think I need, but that I do not need any of it at all.

If I do not seek anything, I shall have nothing and I shall remain empty.
This emptiness is what my soul craves because then that is when I can feel the entirety of the slightest, little thing.

That little thing could be anything-- it could be a tiny smile; it could be a single raspberry.

To be empty is to be full.

Waves of pain rise and fall in my chest, relentlessly.
My heart breaks over and over.
It breaks so much now that I worry that I will develop an emotional callous.
This lesson that I so painfully had to endure appeared to be about the other person,
but it was really about me; it was completely my lesson to learn.
And I learned.  I will never forget this lesson.
I ignored the deepest parts of my being that were shouting "STOP!"
And these intuitive voices were warning me in all sorts of ways that what I was
embarking on was dangerous for both the fragility of my heart and for my future career.
Yet, I still ignored all the signs and devoted myself completely to a person who wasn't worth all the sacrifice I was so willing to give.

And so here I sit, in my misery, yet I am wiser now.  I would hope I am.  Yes, I am.
I devote and give my full loyalty to my intuition and the health and well-being of my soul.
I have learned to recognize her voice and I will now be in complete service to my soul and God for the rest of my life.
I will be a person of purity, of integrity, of Truth.  I am already a person of love, and now is the time to learn new things; new lessons.

What remains is forgiveness.  I forgive the person whom so very much broke and continues to break my heart.
I forgive all the betrayal, all the other women, all the lies, all the manipulation and deception.  I will always
remember all of that evilness, as I sit here and forgive it.
At this point in my life cycle, I am too old to hold onto fresh wounds.  I have enough childhood wounds to heal,
I simply don't have the resilience and stamina to tightly hold onto new wounds.  And so, to heal and to finish
the lessons of this relationship, I must let go.  I completely forgive him and everyone else involved.

Forgiveness is so difficult when the wrongdoing was so bitter and emotionless.  Like a mechanical predator, he was.  No heart, no empathy; sociopathic.
But, at some point, everyone has a heart.  Everyone's heart is vulnerable and can be broken at some point in their lives.  His heart was broken over and again.
He grew a callous on his heart and that is even more of a reason to forgive him.  When someone practices infidelity with no emotional remorse,
then that person is broken.  That person needs all the love and forgiveness of the Universe.  He needs as much love and purity as what is contained in the whole Universe.  As much as I despise all the hideousness of him and the situation, I still forgive him.  And my act of forgiveness frees me from the agonizing pain I feel now.  Over time, my heart will heal and years from now, I will look upon this day and this time in my life with gratitude and with the satisfaction that I did the right thing.  I did what love does -- I forgave.

Intention is the steering wheel
Inspiration is the gas pedal
Truth is the vehicle.

Creativity sparks and brings forth new life
Primal, instinctual urges
The independence from the womb feels raw and scary
Yet the same independence is our individuality
The frequency of One is where it all begins
Birth.
New.
Basic.
Ego.
Striving to know yourself and of your origins.
Whatever your origins may be, you must go there and reunite with what and who made you.
This is the story of One.  Vibrational frequency of the number One.

There once was a little beagle who was stuck in a deep puddle of mud.
The puppy struggled and struggled, only to become more exasperated.
Crying and pouting, the beagle finally gave up and let himself slide neck-deep into the mud.

He laid like this all night, until the next morning, only his brown-speckled head was atop of the mud pile.

A small child walked by the puddle and to him, he saw a giant mass of mud with a head.

The young boy screamed in horror, but ran closer to get a better glimpse. To his surprise, the beagle woke up and yelped to be free from the mud.  The little boy felt an immediate affection for the puppy and jumped into the mud puddle and pulled the dog out.

The lesson?

I'm still trying to figure this one out, too.

I'll let you know when I figure out the lesson behind this one.

We broke apart and my heart was so worn;
Into little pieces, my soul was torn.
Out there again, this time alone;
I promised you that I wouldn't phone.
Deep in my sorrow, my pain, and my fear;
I saw fragments of myself, so true and so dear.

I freely gave you these pieces for us to share;
I trusted you that you would open up and care.
But things ended and I lost parts of my soul;
These parts of myself that I must reclaim again to be whole.

And now is the time for the purification of my heart;
To reclaim myself, pure and innocent, like from the start.
To see my heart as fragile yet strong;
I've waited to reconnect in this moment for so long.
So here I am, with my tender heart in my hand;
And only I can purify it, cleanse it; no one else can.

We all have wounds in our hearts that have been stitched up with loose, flaky sutures.  At any given moment, someone may touch your wound and it can open up.

Our reaction is to recoil in pain and then lash out.  

What would happen if we were able to have enough focus and self-control to think first before we react?  We might not burn so many bridges, we might save marriages and friendships.  We might be happier in the long run.

Wishing to **** the person who hurt us so deeply feels totally justifiable and appropriate in the moment, except once the emotions flatten, saying those hurtful things, acting that malicious way is only turned back on you and hurts you with the pangs of loss and regret.  How we so wish we could undo it all and go back and do it right this time...

We must remember that we can react on the inside, but that we have the power to conduct our external actions in loving ways.  We are humans.  We will not be able to do this every time with grace, but we can do our best.

What propels our ability to be non-reactive is to acknowledge the incredible skill of putting yourself in the others' place and wondering what they're going through.  What is she feeling?  Why might he say those things?  And then responding with compassion. Self-restraint coupled with empathy is the way we do this.

I believe most of us (like 95%) of humans of the Earth are truly doing the best we can with what we've learned in life and what concrete things we have to work with.  The person who is selfish or violent may have had convoluted messages and abusive parents while growing up.  Any one born into her situation would probably behave the same.  But on the outside, when all we see is the selfishness and violence, we judge her.  We gossip and say she's a bad person.  But, if we really saw and experienced all of what she experienced, we might not be so quick to judge.  In fact, we might reach out with loving arms and compassionate hearts.  I believe people are good.

I greatly struggle with being reactive.  I make sweeping assumptions, believe these assumptions, plan an attack and then attack head-on.  I've lost over four close, wonderful friends this way.  I've lost numerous relationships.  I've almost lost family.  It's time I grow up and learn some self-regulating skills.  I am finally starting to see how I regularly sabotage my relationships.  I'm like a bullet-train racing down the tracks and my collision is waiting for me every time.  How does one reverse the direction of a bullet-train in motion?  I do not know, but I feel it is my duty to figure that out and do it.

I think the first step is to think.  I feel, I stop, I think, and I think some more, and THEN I take action.  The trick is to STOP first so that there's time to think!  

That's my personal therapy session for tonight. :-)  Good night.

searching.... for that perfect person.  All of what I think I want I also think I cannot have and that it does not exist, yet I continue to search.
My heart cries out in pain and an aching that I cannot ignore any longer.
Is it possible to have true love at my age?  Am I too dried up and used?
There's always the "one day, one day, one glorious day, he will show up when I least expect it" *******.  

Underneath the heartache is a deeper ache.  Have I missed my chance? Is this how my life will be from now on?  Even the thought of that makes my soul crumble.  I suppose if that's what God intended for me, then sobeit.  It can't be true...

I am that petite build, with that straight, black and shiny hair that every white girl envies.
I have those slanty eyes that turn into slivers when I laugh.
I love kimchee, rice and mandu.  There is never such a thing as too much garlic.  I put red pepper flakes/paste on everything.
I use chopsticks.
People think I'm "cute" and pat me on the head.  That drives me nuts.  It still happens and I'm 32.
I regularly tell people that I don't speak Korean, except for "Where's the bathroom?" and of course "Anyonghaseyo".
My skin turns a dark tan in the summer months and I wish I was more peachy or pale like the white girls whom I think are beautiful.
I wear glasses.
I love to read and research things and I'm a good, diligent student, but I'm terrible with math and science.
I'm musical.

****

I play the clarinet, not the piano, violin, or cello; like every "Asian" should play.
I'm a tom-boy; you will never find me in a tu-tu or frilly-like dress (in public).
I do not wear make-up.
I'm loud, boistrous and obnoxious at times.  I have a serious *****-mouth and I'm not reserved or "refined".
I ask the guy out; not the other way around.
My career is more important than "settling down"-- at least during this point in my life.
I choose to never have children -- EVER.
I bite my fingernails and I've never had a manicure.  I've never even been inside a manicure shop.
I am a fantastic driver.
I am the only person of color in my immediate and extended family.
Over 99.5% of my friends are white.
I have never been in a relationship with an Asian man.
I grew up in an all-white neighboorhood and when I saw the Vietnamese, Cantonese, and Hmong students at my elementary school, I always wondered what it must like to be "them".

In 2007 I lived in South Korea for 3 months.  I encountered complex questions concerning who I am.  Who am I, really?  Am I an adopted Korean?  Am I a "real" Korean? Am I a Korean-American?  Am I none of these?  Does it even matter?  I was left with a gaping hole in my chest of deeper questions, deeper insecurities, and a poignant feeling of loss.  I thought, back in the States that who I am there is who I really am.  But, here I am, in the country of my birth, surrounded by people who share my ethnicity.  This is who I really am, right?  I felt such a deep responsibility to be more Korean.  I felt that if I identified as "white" or even a Korean-adoptee, that I was betraying my culture, my People, my home.  But, while I was in my homeland of Korea, I was so homesick for Minnesota.

When I returned back to Minnesota around Thanksgiving time, a few months later, Eastern Social Welfare (adoption agency in Korea) found my birth mother, Yoon, Young-Hee.  They were able to confirm that she was indeed my mother.  They tried to tell her that I have begun a search and that I wrote a personal letter for her, waiting at the agency.  Once they mentioned me, Young-Hee hung up the phone and would not answer Eastern's calls over a course of a year.  Children's Home Society and Family Services in St. Paul, MN contacted me and said that Eastern Social Welfare suggested that I wait a few years and try again.  I waited 6 years.  Last Decemember I re-intitated the search with the hopes that Young-Hee had gained the courage to talk to the social worker.  I had prayed for this for so many years.  I visulized light and love surrounding her.  I asked God for help.  I have heard nothing from my social worker and it's been almost 10 months.

I am learning how to let go of this search and let go of Young-Hee.  I am learning how to take my healing and my identity into my own hands.  I have a million questions that I wish I knew -- questions about my birth family's medical history.  Questions about why she gave me up. Questions about her current family.  Endless questions.  Now, I have come to terms that my questions may never be answered.  I could always have a mystery around my birth and possibly the future cause of my death (until I am diagnosed with something).  Can I live with this ambiguity?  As of right now, barely.  I am barely able to keep myself from falling apart with the frantic wonderings of my mind.  But, this is something I have to live with every day.

The Adopted Korean Community often hears wonderful and inspiring stories of adoptees being re-united with their birth-families. This is not my story.  My story is the all-too-common story that is rarely heard.  No one wants to hear how your birth mother will not cooperate with the Korean social worker and even read a letter you wrote for her.  No one wants to face the fact that millions of adoptees around the world live with this reality, too.  No one wants to acknowledge the pain, the rejection, and the loss that prevails.  Why would anyone want to hear a story like that?  Well, people who do not find their birth families or are turned away by their birth families have a story to share too.  It may not be an "upper", but it's a pretty important story to hear, too.  It lets us remember how we've all felt this way at some point in our lives, as an adoptee.  Most importantly, hearing stories like this helps other adoptees cope and feel that it is okay if their birth families wish to not meet or communicate with them.  It's not the adoptee's fault.  Adoptees who do not have success stories need to hear that this happens to many others and that a giant rejection does not mean he or she is worthless and less "special" than an adoptee who has been fortunate enough to reunite.

Why is it that I so closely tie my identity and then my self-worth to my birth family?  Why can I not be sovereign unto myself?  I am Korean.  Yes, I am.  It doesn't mean I must do, be, act, believe, see, or think in a certain way.  I am human, too.  I choose to have little identities that I see myself as while in different situations, with different people.  Indentity is complex-  it often signifies one thing-- oh that, (points) THAT is a chair. But simultaneoulsy, identity can also be so fluid and flexible -- (points) THAT chair is a folding chair, but this one isn't. But they're both chairs.  Maybe in some situations I can be a folding chair.  I'd like to play around with identity and let the concept roll around in my mind.  The thinking error comes when we think we must be one, same thing at all times. That is when we become stagnant.  How refreshing it is that we get to have such fluid identities!

Like every person on Earth, I have many shades.  I have many identities, and I surrender the long, hard fight to conform to one identity or another. This is my life and this is who I am, so I reserve the right to identitfy with whatever and whomever I see fit to be ME! :-)

Simply resting in your own skin.
Waiting for the day to turn into darkness.
The quality of the time spent with yourself is a jewel to bear.
And the gift is intended for your eyes only.

Lonesomeness may creep slowly into your bed while you sleep to be closer and warmer.
When you awake, the lonesomeness is still there--waiting for you to notice.

Only in your tiny heart do you have room for one person.
And that person needs the glory of your heart the most.
That person is you.

When you finally grasp your heart and in all its agony and joy; sorrow and sweetness, can you really come to terms with what your heart has been saying all along--
"Be with me".

And in your solitude, you give your heart what it wishes for.
You become yourself more and more until the moment your time spent alone
is shattered by someone else.

Humans are natural go-getters.  We are instinctually driven to fix it, solve it, control it.  But, oftentimes, even our most sincere efforts return fruitless.  We relentlessly pursue anyway.  What lies beneath the desire to make things better; make our lives better is a deep-seated insecurity that if we don't DO something, our lives will dissipate, and fall into a heap of failure and depression.  We cannot bear to let go of the need to control our lives and "make things happen".  What would happen if we let the Universe guide us?  I'm not talking about passively living our lives.  No. I'm talking about going about our lives like how we normally do, with the exception of needing to make certain all of which brings us discomfort.  And instead, to live in this insecurity, this uncertainty and trust that the Universe and ultimately, our soul knows the True way.  Our soul is caring for us and whether or not we like it, our soul is ultimately the one in charge of our lives.  We have free will, and we may exercise that whenever we want, but we do not have free will of how outcomes turn out.  We wish we could manipulate the destinies of ourselves and others, but in the end, the Universe and our soul causes the outcome to occur.  The power of action is a shared privilege, done by both ourselves and our soul.  Since we ARE our soul, but separated from the love and wisom by our ego-mind, what is shall and always will be what our soul wants for us and we need to open up to that and trust it.

Does continual conflict serve it's point?  If the point has not gotten across by now, it probably never will.  Does breaking all ties and retreating back to the cave in a stubborn self-rightousness harbor resolution?  When is it right to surrender to your adversaries, to throw in the white flag, so to speak?
You can forgive and forget.  And when you finally do forget, you can finally understand peace.  But, how do we come to that place of willing to surrender, and after we are so willing, how do we actually surrender?  I believe a good warrior is best friends with her enemy because she knows him well.  She knows him so well that she can **** him.  And he knows her so well that he can duck before she attempts to chop his head off.  If they weren't enemies, they would be husband and wife.  What's the difference? ;-) We must see beyond the illusion that we are each others' enemies.  We must see the dignity of our humanness, we must recognize the fragility of our bodies, our hearts, our souls.  And when we do see one another as just another guy doing the best he can, we can have empathy.  With sincere compassion, we can lay the conflict to rest.  We can remember that we all make mistakes, even terrible ones, but that we all were innocent children once.  If we can see each other in the light of innocence, it may help us surrender to our adversaries and come to a passionate peace, most importantly, a peace within ourselves.

We are like an inverted bike tire.  Our focus is exernal, yet the meat of us, the essence of us, and our true persona lies on the inside.  When we finally stop running from ourselves in the myriad ways in which we do (alcohol, drugs, ***, shopping, TV, lying, for example), we come to see ourselves as frightened and lonely children that only wish to be loved.  We feel this lack tremendously and we do everything we can to escape the helplessness and rejection.  As children, it is difficult to source our love and security from ourselves.  We don't know HOW to love.  Learning how to love is precisely so; a skill-set and behavior that we emulate and grow to understand. Therefore, it is very hard to self-soothe as children because we lack the experience and the skill.  However, as adults, if we've learned from our broken hearts and dissapointments, most of us have learned how to comfort ourselves, even if that is with eleven shots of tequilla. What we hide from is finding the love we seek from within ourselves.  How do you DO that?  Well, there's the mirror exercise: look at yourself in the mirror naked and say repetitively, "I love myself", with the hopes that one grand day, you will.  Sorry folks, that's too simplistic for many.  I'm not suggesting a solution to the struggle of learning to love yourself, you just have to organically create it from trial and error. And eventually you will discover your unique way of truly being there for yourself.  What helps me is I imagine myself as a child comforting myself with a hug or a pat on the back while I am sad as an adult.  It's nothing major, but it really DOES help me!  We all can find our own ways.  If you find that you run from your pain and seek consummation within the love of your own heart, stop seeking outside of yourself for that wholeness, that completion.  Instead, give yourself the warmest, most caring hug you can imagine and see how you feel.

when you love someone, you sacrifice a piece of yourself to that person.  You may not want to do this, but giving your heart, fearlessly and truthfully, you lose a little bit of yourself to that person.  That person also loses them self to you.  

There comes a time when the sacrifice is too great and turns into a game or becomes unbalanced.  It is then that you have to make a decision.  How much is my happiness and self-worth or desire for self-peace worth it to having this beautiful person in my life?  What do you keep and what do you reject?  You cannot keep half a person, so make your decision.  Soon.

The heart does not give up so easily as the mind does.  You may think this is wrong, but your heart continues to shout this is real, this is true, this is right!  Which one do you listen to?  When is common sense better than passion and emotional vitality? There has to be a middle ground.

Dropping a coin into a well.  You watch it fall...

In the reflection, You see your life falling, but instead upward to the sky and
You see your body being cast far above the trees, higher than the doves can fly.

Freedom and wind soar through your mind as you notice that
being up this high, is both dangerous and liberating.

As you rest at the top of an iceberg, you are freezing and you wonder,
"what's the meaning of all of this height? Why do I seek high experiences in my life?"

And after a wrinkle or two of your brow, you slip down and float your way to solid earth.  When you reach your home again, you go inside and sit. And sit. and sit....

after some long time sitting, you start to feel something tremble in your whole body.  You sense a deep rememberance as to why you were born; why you're alive.  You don't need the highs, nor the lows.  You don't even need the middle-ground.  You don't need anything.  

This realization, as you realize, is what actual liberation is.  And just by realizing this, you are instantly a dove, flying high above the roof of your house.  But, instead, you sit and rest.  And you are content with everything in your life.  And, while resting, you know you are content.  And that's all there is.

The night's starry sky lights a path into my eyes; the very eyes that see into your soul.
It sure would be nice to see you, but it's really not my right, not my own, not our paths.
All I can do is put on my finest silk and drink a bottle of Sangria.  Falling into my drunken dreams.
So blue. The sky. The night. The river. My heart.
A wren comes singing in the tree and awakes me.  I remember your soft words in my ear, telling me you
will never leave.  But, you did.  They always do.
The dream of happiness fades away into the night.  To leave me abandoned and cold.  I am alone.
Here I go again, out into the world with armor and sword in hand.  To fight the devils and evils of the world. Only yet again.
Only this time, I will not forget so easily the pain stricken upon me.  This time, I have learned my lessons and I will be a dutiful student.  
A student of the perilous affairs of the heart.  The drunken heart.  The purest heart I wish I could have.  And never will.

how is it possible to have a heartbreak over someone you've never met; someone you've only imagined?

a hole lies in my heart where the mystery man used to live
this gaping wound that never happened yet, continues to tug at my fragile insides of my heart's wall, only to break my heart in half

am i inflicting unnecessary suffering upon myself? but, authentic feelings arise when i imagine your peaceful, lovely face. are you all a dream, or is this a prophetic dream, soon to become a reality?

i haven't met you yet, but i do feel you. i feel your warmth and love for me.  i feel your soft, soothing embrace when i cry.  i feel your sweet breath upon my cheek when i curl up next to you. i feel your gentle caress when you tell me you're not going anywhere. all of this is my imagination. all of these are my hopes turned into figments in my mind. but where do the feelings and rich visual pictures come from?

i will continue to have a playground in my mind, falling into my own illusions and falling in love with a man in my mind who isn't really there and who cannot hurt my heart. for he is perfect, trapped here in my mind; a perfect lover. and facing the reality is too much of a risk. so i will continue to dream and to fall in love over and over again with the pictures in my mind.

the softness of love makes my heart feel all tingly.
i fall over myself to just feel that again and again
surrounded by hopes and dreams that are dressed in fluff,
i am tickled by the fluff
softness embraces my body, heart, and mind and i feel such a kindness from your presence.
there is no expectation, there is no need to control
only softness that gently rests upon my shoulders
i quietly fold myself into you and sigh myself to sleep.

The love that binds us will never break.
Our lives, whether beautiful or ugly was never a mistake.
The truth that makes up the Universe will never lie.
The human desire for hope will never die.

so softly, as the wind rushes past her, her hair falls down. And swings by her shoulders.
The sweet scent of lilacs and the cherry blossom tree entwine together to make this ever-romantic scene even doubly romantic.  The lighting just right.  The sun at the perfect angle, speckles of light shining like God through the leafy branches.  Could this be heaven?

Toiling in our herbs and magic
Boiling in our pain and manic
When will we see what's real?
We must first open up to feel
Because all of what's outside of us
Reflects what's inside of us
And we all must
let our feelings permeate our shock shells
because we can drown in our own crafted hell
if we run away from the people and things
that reminds us of where love begins.

what's true to us may not be the Truth.  
what's Truth may not appear so.

Things and people who are not linked to their soul's higher will are finding it increasingly difficult to maintain their world of lies, deception, and greed. The old model that is based upon blaming the victim, stealing from the poor, and denying the Truth is starting to crumble.  This was bound to happen eventually because constructs based on darkness and disease can never sustain themselves since they come from a place of lack and fear.  In fear's place a bean sprout of goodness is growing.  We can really hope and see the magic and magnificence of the contructs of love and peace blossoming.  This is a peaceful protest to the old ways.  This sheer goodness is beautiful and it's briliance of goodwill shines upon everything.  You can only deny love and goodness for so long before it encompasses your heart and works to transform you.  Love and light always win anyway. The ability to succumb to the tiny spark of love in our hearts, even if we've detached from our hearts long ago will either make or break us as a species.  Some people walk around with thick shells covering their hearts, but this is only a protection from hurt.  When there becomes enough safety in the world, those shells will come off.  And that will be a glorious day.  Enough people are getting fed up with the current governmental system of control and oppression.  It is a complex game of the people in power exploiting the innocent, as well as the truth-seekers.

Compassion and empathy are tremendous healing forces.  Many of people's problems stem from misunderstandings, assumptions, and judgements.  There are some instances where one is hurt intentionally, but that is when taking a stance of compassion is the most powerful.  In the moment of our greatest pain, lies the most opportunistic moment to have the deepest of empathy.  This is not shifting the responsiblity upon the victim.  No.  This is preventing the extended period of rage and bitterness that usually follows a victimization.  The hardest part about being a victim is the aftermath of the offense.  PTSD is a *****.  If we are able to have compassion for ourselves as well as our assailant in the moment, the easier it is to be free from the suffering that ineviably follows.  This is a skill for masters.  We are all masters.

Taste it, crunching sweet between your teeth and then onto your tongue.  
So **** and juicy with flavor, perfect ripeness, perfectly in season.
Now dip, dip it into the smooth and crunchy mixture of nutty, hearty wholesomeness.
The perfect combination of savory and sweet; salty and sticky.
The hunger pangs in my belly are satiated, satisfied, complete.
I lick the gooey goodness and sticky sweetness off my fingers.
The juice is still running down my hand.
My finger dips into the bowl, lapping up the last of the smooth, silky delight and **** juicy wonder.
I wonder, I wonder, what delicious treat is waiting for me next?

What do you give yourself?  How do you honor yourself?  How do you show diginity and respect for yourself?  If you don't do this or you don't know how to do any of this, make it your top priority to LEARN how.  It is an invaluable skill to learn how to love yourself.  I'm not talking about standing in front of a mirror and saying "I love you" -- that is maybe the first step.  Loving yourself or even thinking postively about yourself is like climbing a slippery mountain where the fall really hurts.  But, when you get down to it and truly care for yourself, above everyone and everthing else, you don't have to climb that mountain of self-love.  You can fly over that mountain.  And on the other side is paradise.  This paradise is all the love and goodness that you crave from others, except this love is unlimited and endless.  It will forever flow into your heart because it's source is you.  You are an evergreen wellspring of unconditional love.  If you really sit down with yourself and be honest and say to yourself, "hey, Self, how do I stop being so mean to you?"  And, "how do I start loving you and treating you with the respect, adoration, and sweetness that I seek from others?"  When you figure that out and become crystal clear about HOW to do this and most importantly, if you're READY to do this -- I mean REALLY READY to do this, then just... do it.