our love from old

You are the explosion of carnations
in a dark room
Or the unexpected scent of pine
miles from Maine.

You are a full moon
that gives midnight its meaning.
And the explanation of water
For all living things.

You are a compass,
a sapphire,
a bokmark.
A rare coin,
a smooth stone,
a blue marble.

You are an old lore,
a small shell,
a saved silver dollar.
You are a fine quartz,
a feathered quill,
and a fob from a favourite watch.

You are a valentine
tattered and loved and reread a hundred times.
You are a medal found in the drawer
of a once sung hero.

You are honey
and cinnamon
and West Indies spices,
lost from the boat
that was once Marco Polo's.

You are a pressed rose,
a pearl ring,
and a red perfume bottle found near the Nile.

You are an old soul from an ancient place
a thousand years, and centuries and milleniums ago,
And you have travelled all this way
just so I could love you.
I do.


From Suzanne's Diary for Nicholas, by James Patterson.

spirit kiss

Ever since our little boy Charlie came to us
and began sleeping in our room
i have had... spirit kisses.

Each night, as I am wafting off to sleep,
in that space between awake and slumber,
I hear the patter of feet on the bed,
a wet kiss of a nose on my face,
a furry warmth pressed to my side,
then the patter away again.

I wake up, thinking ~
I should put Charlie back in his bed,
but when I open my eyes,
he is sound asleep...
and yet I am sure he was beside me.

I told Chris this morning about it.
It has happened so consistently,
and each time it is so warm and comforting.
And real.
How I think it might be Charlie's spirit
kissing me goodnight.

Chris smiled ~ and said...
I wouldn't put it past our Charlie.

Our Charlie.
Mischevious, wise, loyal, loving.
Divine and magical.
Earth angelic.

Perfectionists Non~Anonymous

Beach steps, July 2004, by Chris


Realised over the past few days how much I unfairly beat myself up over the little things.
It took me an exam and the reflection of myself in a friend to see this.

I got my marks back for my economic history mid semester exam - a distinction.
(Marks range from Fail - Pass - Credit - Distinction - High Distinction)
I saw that there was about ten in my class higher placed than me.
A little voice inside me said
"You should have done better. If only you'd studied more. If only you didn't put your attention onto everything else. You could have got a high distinction. You SHOULD have got a high distinction. If only you weren't so disorganised..."
So I felt disappointed in myself.

Isn't it funny how we allow our little self voice to tell us so many demeaning things...
would we allow someone else to speak to us like that?
Hell no!

If someone else said that to me, I would growl like a dog to protect my inner self.
I would tell them to rack off, a distinction was more than good enough.
I'd tell them that I refused to let study and the pursuit of perfect marks
overwhelm and over run my life.
I'd say how many other aspects of life are so passionate and intriguing that I cannot be belted to the one thing.

And yet I allow my inner voice to say it?

Then I read dear Lisa Marie's blogger, about beating herself up for not being the perfect teacher... and I told her to be gentle with herself, that good is GOOD ENOUGH and perfection is unnecessary.

Yes, ahem, *cough cough*... advice I should be giving myself, yes.

So it took my reaction, and then my reflection in a friend to see a part of me which needs healing.

Lisa Marie and I have now unofficially, informally and dishevelledly set up Perfectionists Non-Anonymous.... Read her post on it here.
We decided that twelve steps is two overwhelming, so our premise is thus:

1.) Love yourself.
2.) As SARK would say, be "splendidly imperfect."


So here I am... taking mini steps to the embracing of imperfection.