I love you

I’m an Unitarian Universalist . My decision to fully support the values and vision of the faith have allowed me to explore wisdom from multiple perspectives, sources, beliefs, and experiences that I wouldn’t otherwise have come to comprehend, much less understand.

I found it necessary before I even knew about UU, to excavate my spirit from decades of teachings that told me I was not worthy of love, much less the love of God or a man, or another human for that matter.

Everything I relished or enjoyed was a punch-mark on my ticket to hell. I was convinced because I read a book about the rapture when I was in my early teens that told me exactly where I was headed.

I believed that for every sin I committed (or the heft of the sins committed against me) that I needed to make amends by attending the most churchy church I could find.

I threw myself into the world of a bake sale/ choir singing/ hands raised/ head bowed/ lunch with the pastor and his wife kind of church life.

My hands were busy, but my spirit was abandoned under the stairs. I sang loudest (not well either) but didn’t feel safe asking questions because that meant I doubted my faith, right?

Disillusioned by the God that never answered my prayers. The God who judged me for my father’s sins that never quite washed away during baptism. But instead replaced the S.A. at the hands of my father with the understanding that it was God’s will or that I was somehow was so irresistible that my purpose was solely to please others.

My voice got louder but I remained silent because it was MY job to protect others at all costs, even to my detriment. It was MY job to make daddy feel better after he fought with my mother. It was MY job to protect everyone but myself. I was well groomed and damned by default.

I concluded that there wasn’t a God at all. How could there be? And if there was, why would the horrors I witnessed even exist? Why did I exist? What purpose could that possibly serve?

Finding Unitarian Universalism quietly granted permission to ask big questions. It allowed me to have an eclectic understanding of love in every form throughout the rich history of my faith.

The main draw for me has been Love at the center. I learned to love myself because others showed me how. I learned to be vulnerable, ridiculous, compassionate, generous with time, and kind without ridicule or judgement from others.

My heart felt bursting with joy, love, and a peace that had been fleeting before. I brought my enthusiasm, my passions, my courage, and laughter. I brought welcomed willing hands. I found my people; I’d finally found my soul home.

I felt safe, comfortable, and finally living not just surviving. Sometimes I’d let myself into the sanctuary (perks of leadership in the church) and just sit in the quiet where my soul received comfort. I could feel what I felt but without shame. I felt love/d.

A catastrophic failure of healthy communication skills led to my removal from all positions of leadership which in turn caused my secession from my family and community.

Because of that, the trajectory that I’d been planning for, working towards, sacrificing things I loved for , went POOF! 💨

I am allowing myself space. I granted myself permission to exhibit my emotions when I feel them, not only in private. I’m allowing myself to be compassionate with myself, fiercely loyal to my peace, and to revel in the joy of not knowing everything.

Most importantly, I’m holding my people in my heart because my covenant remains steadfast to the UU values based on the Law of Love. My loyalty is given freely to those I’ve comforted, uplifted, broke bread with, cried with, created with, laughed with, celebrated, connected with and mourned beside. Love is always the answer. Love is always the right choice.

Being a Unitarian Universalist is the heart of my love. It is sacred and unwavering. Nobody has the power to erase me again for I am beloved.

Beyond the Veil

Beneath the willow’s weeping bough we stand,
Where shadows lengthen in the dying light,
Your memory carved deep within this land,
A beacon burning through eternal night.

Though death has claimed your mortal frame from me,
My heart remains forever bound to yours,
Like ancient oak roots drinking from the sea,
Our bond transcends these temporary shores.

The seasons turn, yet still I keep the flame
Of promises we whispered long ago,
No grave can hold the power of your name,
No winter wind can make my devotion slow.

In dreams you walk beside me through the years,
My loyalty flows deeper than these tears

Celebrate

The griefs are many

but find value in truth that:

Each breath

Each heartbeat 

Each moment celebrating

Each of those

Is a courtship of death.

By embracing 

THIS breath

THIS heartbeat 

THIS moment of joy

Is a nod of recognition 

To infinite mystery

Blazing celebration

Our age is known

By the buried bones

Of our bloodline

Reflected in chosen heritage

And the legacy of their love.

Survival Safety

It is safe to play with the darkness again.

To coax it out from underneath the basement stairs.

To enthrall the dust from the bone filled closet.

To embrace the shadow that lurks beneath pallet.

The darkness loves to cuddle with the little self

reassuring the little, that learning deep truth

creates a Tower, crumbling accommodated fears

Darkness births wisdom from soul insults and betrayal.

The little’s shadow begs grief for the heart song abducted

Begs sorrow for the wounds caused by caustic demolition

caused by atrocities witnessed, experienced, coerced

The Darkness beseeches with terrified shrieks

anxiously imploring for tenderness and compassion

among the surplus of debris once cherished

Sermon of lies

On the knees of submission 

Hard on the floor

The sin of omission 

A morality score

Prayer hands clasped tightly

Like folding chair pews

Hymns resound violently

Long-sleeved black and blue

Submit to your husband

Follow his lead

Open your thighs

to embrace his seed

If life springs forth

from your virgin womb

raised the red, white, and blue

over a gifted soldier’s tomb

If your life becomes sacrifice

respond to what you allow

remember your promise,

remember your vow

Obey all the rules

follow the commands

Do as your told

Do not give demands

You’re less than a fetus

but more than you should be

tone down your laments

while living hypocrisy

Four years

A funeral is a condensed soup of stories

a testament to how they moved through the world

honoring the human they are no longer

wish flowers blown free by a child’s breath

The absence of their laughter, wisdom, joy

is a sullen void of yearning

Haunting the rooms where they lived

with a sharp recognition of the hollowness

The mortality displayed on our own faces

The recognition of our fleeting contribution

Our role in the stone soup of life

Our own responsibility to love so loudly

that we echo through our children,

leak into the community with emboldened abandon

Cherish each gift of spent intimacy

whether it came neatly wrapped in shiny paper

or a hurried wrapping in Sunday comics

Who we are is a reflection of everyone we know

who we become is the distillation of their best parts

Miss Mabel, June 13, 2025

Desiderate

I feel an animosity towards time

It proceeds without caution,

barreling through individual’s lives

destruction and creation embodied

A shallow dagger tattooing memories

in a word.

I swallow in lusty gulps the mana

that ever and again poisons me

with child-like misplaced trust

of the perpetuation of consistency

bathed in my blissful ignorance

in a word.

It’s not enough to hold resentment

towards the testament of our days,

nor is it a hobby to be taken frivolously

It is neither good nor evil,

but yet it commonly holds the dichotomy

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times”

Or so the story goes

in a word.

When it’s Gray

Music is an original piece called “October Moons” by Alicia Menninga. She wrote it for me.

You can get it here:

Dreamscapes Album: October Moons

Or the entire album can be found here:

Dreamscapes: Volume One

Absent

I have been absent for quite a while. I’ve set down some of my volunteer work. I’ve spent a lot of time being. Sometimes busy, sometimes not, but primarily I’ve been focusing on building the life I want to live; the one I enjoy and relish so dearly.

In the next month or so, I’ll be picking up my roots that are over five years deep and moving down the road a spell to take care of a human who, at this point, requires stupidvision with a dash of management. It’s scary to think I won’t have my safe haven anymore, but it’s thrilling to explore the world from different perspectives.

This is a big deal in my life, but not in the world. Most people probably won’t even notice my change of address. I will. Most people won’t even think twice about my new living situation. I will. I’ve determined that the risk is worth the outcome. I will do this. It will be good. I’m already happy.

Transition from one phase to another is a challenge, but change is as sure as death and taxes. I’m embracing this new direction with the fervor of devotion to myself.

Thank you for your patience.

Giving up grief

I’ve given up on grief.

It’s too small of a word

To contain the absence I feel 

To cover the sorrow that blooms 

Unexpectedly 

When I make coffee in the morning 

Or taste a muffin

Like you used to make

I’ve given up grief

It’s too small of a space

To hold all that was you

The way you laughed

The scent of your body

Fresh out of the shower

Or sweaty with work

I’ve given up grief

It’s too shallow for a feeling 

That is deeper than I thought

Although I suspected,

Your love holds me buoyant 

In the ocean of our commitment 

Yes, I’ve given up grief

Because the world requires 

The gift of who you were

Through my eyes. 

I can’t hold that when it,

Like you,

Were born to shine even now