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

I’m an animal!

I started out as a Mare

A pirate loudly aging

But I soon became an otter

Clinging to my people

Handle to handle

I turned into a fish

Overturned yellow tube

This was unintentional 

I scaled rocks 

Ducking under a sunken branch

Finally back on my trusty steed

I was a floater

Landing in dead pools 

With big rocks and shallow water

Butt’s up was flowing over

Rapids that jostled rapidly 

Happily lapping at the shore

Without good position,

I transmogrified into a T-Rex

Short little arms no water could reach

Neither could any feet 

I magically became a turtle

Floundering on my back

Finally in the flow again,

Mostly sunny haint blue skies with

Partly cloudy wispy white

Lava-floe sun shrieking hotly

A hawk and a turkey buzzard

Circle the sky at different altitudes 

I think out loud, “Ah, what a metaphor for my life.”

Chaos ensued, shenanigans had,

I laughed at myself in genuine mirth

I essentially stuttered downstream 

One challenge to the next victory 

How deeply grateful am I to learn

How I move in the depths 

And handle the shallows 

Ending up beached; engineering solutions 

As I concluded the journey 

I reverted and emerged, once again, Mare, but better for the experience.

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

Live out loud

Do not wad your spirit up in a crumpled ball to be tucked away or discarded. Spread out your body to relish the wrinkles of wisdom topped off with your star shine luminosity. Smooth back the night to raise the powerful roots that feed your soul with your destiny.

You weren’t meant to shy away from your glory, you were born to glitter wildly, bubble fruitfully, and bloom in magnificence like those before you. There are no boundaries beneath your feet, only your path.

You were meant to be loud; to take up the space stolen from you by those who fear your wealth of experience and wisdom. They use old, crone, bitch, or other words to describe those who embrace their true nature with delighted abandon. Those are words that mean survivor, wise, and assertive. Those words are meant to keep you small, withered, starving for approval. You own their power.

You do not require permission to explode with color, dance joyfully wherever/whenever you please, or to laugh until your eyes leak. You were born for this. I can’t wait to be a wild human with you!

Deconstruction

At twenty-one I planned to die,

with a beer in one hand while getting high.

Nobody could see me, I didn’t exist

I screamed myself hoarse

while in their midst

Ironically, I didn’t tell

the secrets I had borne in hell

Imploding shrapnel from darkest places

Repulsed by misleading “loving” embraces

As I grew older, I refused my name

Pushing anger towards familial blame

I gave away my power

before it could be taken

If someone actually saw me,

they’d surely be mistaken

I never did because I knew I never could

It didn’t matter the effort

no matter how good.

I believed pain was love

because that’s what I was shown

Throughout my childhood

into the adult-self grown

I was Destructive in the sense that I had to tear down who I thought I was, who I believed myself to be. I had to dismantle the neglect, anger, bitterness, and apathy that were hidden under the guise of Love. Some of the wounds still ran blood. Some of them still had the knife protruding from my body. I walked around a victim, convinced I would cease to exist one day and that event would go unnoticed, under-appreciated, and quickly forgotten.

I was lied to, given gossip about my unworthiness for breakfast. I was taught values: The value of my vagina, the worthlessness of being barren, that I deserved wrath and disdain because, after all, I was the one insane.

I was force fed my inferiority until i vomited the parrot back to those whom despised the thought of me. The people who used every flicker of my light to read and implement my oppression. I allowed it, encouraged it because they lied love in the guise of vulnerability.

Despite all of that, I’ve broken that cycle. I know I am worthy of love. I know I am loved. I know I am kind, compassionate, loving, giving, helpful, wickedly smart, emotionally intelligent, with the sense of humor of a 12-year old boy who relishes bad jokes, fart jokes, dad jokes, irreverent and dark jokes.

I have accomplished more in the last five years because I believe in myself, my power, my skill, my experience, and my North Star; my loving heart. And best of all, I have a cheerleading band of friends who both keep me grounded and celebrate my successes in flights of fancy.

What a fantastic journey I have forged from the ashes of my youth. Nourishing the needs of my soul/spirit has been the best present I’ve ever given to myself. It leaks into the world like a floodlight of hope. Even better than that? I know it’s rightfully mine.

Remind Me

I’ll kiss you good night 

Holding you tightly in my heart;

But only if you’ll return.

In the dawning hours,

Brighten the sky

Like you did upon entering a room

At midday remind me

Again of your voice

As a bird lingering in a nearby tree. 

At supper, with the table set,

Join me as the clinking clatter

Of silverware and glasses 

Savoring the living moment.

And at dusk, as clouds draw dark,

Cleanse me with your tears

Shed as fluid reminders

That my love was not in vain

But returned tenfold even still.

Love Showed Up

When I have been in darkest pain
Feeling I could not hope again
Love showed up.
When I felt lost and overwhelmed
Riding grief on a boat unhelmed
Love showed up.
When I’d thought my demon’s vanquished
But they roared to life, causing anguish
Love showed up.
It didn’t try to change my pain
But gently whispered, “Try again.”
Love showed up.
It didn’t try to change my trouble
It helped me to clean up the rubble
Love showed up.
It helped me navigate which way to travel
Clothing myself in threads unraveled
Love showed up.
Its compass pointed to my true north
Showing me how to sally forth
Love showed up.
It walked beside me on meandering paths
Teaching forgiveness for my past
Love showed up.

Fishing

I entered the Anderson County Fair this with a wood art piece I call “Fishing”. Today I got news!

Fishing

Last year, I entered this piece made of paper and embellishments:

Durga

My confidence is accepting myself.

Soul Pool

Soul Pool

I have existed for eons before I was born

As a descendant of my womenfolk

Who have cradled me within their wombs

Nurturing my spirit they have always known

Just as I know them in my aging, dusty carcass

Animated by their tribal songs that lent me their breath

Extending their pneuma into my mortality

Anointing me with collective wisdom as my inheritance

Courage emblazoned like a scarlet letter;

ushered in with fiercest loyalty

Resilience bestowed as an endowment of hope

Strength of a champion intrinsically passed down

I am born again and again, basking in the immortality

Reveling in the joyful victories of lives well lived

Lamenting the horrors and pains that are birthed;

And rebirthed, and again

I am my mother’s eyes, my grandmother’s faith,

My great-grandmother’s charm,

my great-great-grandmother’s muscle memory

I am because of their willingness to grant me

This Soul Pool in which I float and swim