If I chose a different life
a parallel life
where would I be now 
Would it really be different
I feel ready for a breakthrough
Or is it a breakdown
Insanity swirling at the edges
or those other lives 
begging for attention
No matter
What is here is here
It's easy to think
ah, a life
where pain and grief and rage
don't exist
where I don't feel
this gnawing angst
in my belly
But does a life of peace
really exist
doesn't seem to be my deal
so instead
I'll just stay with this one

Holy is snuggling into my husband's back as he stirs something on the stove.
Holy is looking into the eyes of Cheyenne, our miniature dachshund. Pure love and adoration shining back.
Holy is holding my mom's hand. It's soft and warm as she talks about dying and her desires. She's letting go. I'm holding on. Her hand, so warm.
Holy is standing on the deck and having a hawk flying circles above, break out and dive directly towards me as it lets out its cry.
Holy is the early morning light, wiping out the darkness, foreshadowing the rising of the sun.

I thought I was ready to let it go,
but not quite yet.
His artwork from one of the
mental facilities he visited.
First, it was the mask.
I thought to throw it away—
I think it’s in a box somewhere.
The leafy green drawing,
not sure what it is.
I cut out the white parts
and used it to decorate my board.
His Starry Night—
imitation of Vincent van Gogh.
It’s not perfect,
but he caught the essence.
That was his gift—
catching the essence of the moment.
I put it in the recycle then sat in my car.
I couldn't do it.

Sitting here
watching the snow melt
one little drop at a time--
there's something magical
about an unexpected snow
the kind that greets you
when you open the blinds
early in the morning
rendering the world silent
winking its magic
straight into the heart
on this Valentine's Day.

Blessings,
Victoria

I've been on a winter hiatus. My natural rhythm is to go within during the winter. This year has found me especially prone to disappearing. Rather than binge-watching a series on Netflix or another wonder of visual pleasure, I've gone on a binge-reading affair.

It started with finishing up several books I had almost finished on Kindle. Looking for something more, I opened my list of possibilities and chose the Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon. Understand, this series contains eight books that average around 800 pages each.

Surrender
to the silence
the urge to rest
quiet the mind
release the tension
simply be
allow the cool waters
to flush you clean
warm your bones
by the fire
let the winter winds
blow away your struggles
sink your mind
deep into the earth
breathe into it
sending tendrils
of rootedness
deep, deep, deep
into Mother Earth
ground into this moment
rest now beloved one
allow the inner workings
of your mind to settle
it's winter
time to rest
let your self lie fallow
until the spring sun

I've been participating in Jeanette LeBlanc's "30 Questions to Bring You Closer to Your Wild Heart" writing class. This afternoon, contemplating the journey so far, this erupted through the grief and seeming writer's block I've been challenged by.

stirring within
memories poked
and rising
ideas I hadn't
considered in years
floating around
loosening bits of the past
wishing, home, love
what do they mean
I feel a new constellation
being born within
will there be a star
that shines over the others
what configuration
will the whole thing take
this feeling of brewing
and stewing
leaves me agitated
and sharp with others
I find I need to curb
my tongue
or it might just bite
what is the flavor
of this soup?
only time will tell

Right here
this is home
where my soul meets yours
where I am safe
where nothing else matters
I could stay here forever
basking in your arms
snuggled against your chest
loving, simply loving
nothing more
nothing less
angst and worry
fall away
demands and struggles
gone
it's so simple
just loving
nothing more
nothing less
right here
I am home

Deep in my joints
aching with use
waking with sharpness
tingling in fingers
cramping in the belly
constant or wavering
physical pain
is my companion.
Tears in my heart
old and new
weighing me down
stealing my aliveness
being my home.
Some days the joy
life or love
come bubbling up
and pain subsides
the blue of the sky
the warmth of the sun
bringing forth
the life within.
But today
the weight of the rain
falls heavily on my soul
grounding my being
in the pains of my life.