The Leap

I'd say insecurities pretty much come with the territory that is life. Some cry louder than others, some fester and grow, while others are ignored and shrink. Regardless, we all have our doubts, or uncertainties about our attributes, attitudes, relationships, life choices, careers, and  of course, our appearance.


A lot of insecurities can be paralyzing. They can restrain us from so many things leaving us " wishing" we could say what we wanted to say, do what we really wanted to do, or act a way that wasn't premeditated and calculated, and was just...real. 


With no worry of judging eyes, or strangers whispers or obscene opinions. The sad part is that "idea" is probably just that to so many. A blissful idea of a reality they'll never believe can actually exist. 


I wonder how many people wish that they didn't need to rationalize, and justify, and explain why they were doing what they're doing because they finally grasped the idea that approval just isn't always necessary. 


I've taken my share of stumbles, in modest terms that's a whole lot of straight face-plant-in-the-dirt-kick-me-when-I'm-down moments in my life; literally probably too many for me to even count, but I survived it.


No matter how many times I've done it, risked it, lost it all, won a little, I'll never lose my courage, ever. I'll never be too scared to take that risk or that chance. 


That this is my life, and I want to live it with confidence, and not let my urges to second-guess and cross-check myself create an obstacle for me to take control of what I want to do and where I want to go.


It's really easy to sit in the passenger seat and watch the scenery go by. But I've never really been the passive type. I'd rather be the one to decide where I'm going. 


This year, I've learned to shut my mouth, shrug my shoulders, and trust my gut. . . I have a safety net that hasn't failed me yet. <3 Guess it's time to take that leap

If we knew then....

At some point, in the frustration of trying to explain ourselves, rationalize our behaviors, justify our thoughts, and articulate our true feelings, we start to wish we had someone that  just knew.


That just knew how we felt,
 that understood what we were thinking, 
and could offer us that safe place where we could trust our true self, heart exposed, with no judgement to be passed. 


That person that could hear everything you DIDN'T say, and could tell you anything you didn't want to hear because you would value their truth more than anything else because sometimes, most times, they prove to know you better than you know yourself.


That person that knew you before you grew up; before we learned to filter and censor and suffer and withdraw. Those days when we acted with out thinking about consequences, and the people that were truly attracted to our inner beauty before life could take over and complicate things. 


Before we knew how to protect ourselves, and build up our defenses... When we let people in accidentally, before we learned what being vulnerable meant. 


The beautiful, simplified friendship that grew up before we could really cherish it the way we would have wished to.


The one you knew was so special then, but has only become more special in hindsight. The friend you never took for granted, but that you never feel like you could ever satisfy your gratitude toward, because to this day you still think of them and smile for the place they will forever hold in your heart.  You're still learning from them, and you know you'll never stop.


The friend that you know would be there, anywhere, wherever life leads you, if you should ever need them. When time and distance are just irrelevant because it will never dissipate the comfort of your friendship.


Maybe it's a tiny period of time in our life that we're really able to make those true life long friends. . . I'm so lucky to have made mine. My compass through this crazy journey I can't imagine with anyone else. 


<3 AP
<3 AI ( thanks for the inspiration)

goosebumps and smiles

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uVI254QGSQ4

Boarding Pass

You fill me with wonder,

and I file through security.

I am holding my breath...

and a boarding pass,

regretting every step I take.

My ticket scanned.

My belt is buckled,

and I feel my emotions swell

stuck between two strangers

in this

stale

air.

I feel so tiny

up above you.


I am heading east

as the sun moves west,

to color this distance

that seperates us.

Again.

We are descending  from these clouds

and I feel torn in two.

Now my body is in New Jersey,

but my heart is still

with you.

the unexpected compliment

I was washing glasses when he sat down at the bar.
When I walked in that day, he told me he had to "speak at me" later and I just nodded in confusion. Guess it was time...

He's only been my manager for six months, but I guess our late night talks and my baking skills have scored me a place in his eyes that warrants a brother-like protection and constant concern over my well-being.

Reaching the end, of what felt like an end-less Summer, I guess the dust has settled and he's realizing that my short-term contract is unofficially expiring.

He started by telling me that he knows I don't have family in New Jersey, but that that has changed. He assured me that I now have, and will always have a place that will welcome me any day, and a family that will treat me as my own.

He said he hopes that his little sister grows up to be a quarter as cool as I am, and I laughed in nervousness. His fIattery continued, but I just stared at the water in the sink. .  . I couldn't make eye contact with him because of the tears in my eyes.

He told me how proud he is of me, and all that I have over-come, and managed to accomplish in spite of. I shrugged my shoulders, only to catch his glare of oh-so-seriousness. I laughed, and then nodded and returned my best serious face I could put on.

I thanked him. and then I thanked him again. I told him he carried me through a really difficult transition, and he assured me that it was his absolute pleasure.

I'm still in awe.

Thank you Kharma.

Cicadas

I’m on my porch, having dinner with the sky. Staring at the clouds, wishing I could see a single star through them.

I can smell the cigarette my neighbor is smoking, but we haven’t said hello to each other.

The light from the kitchen is just barely enough to let me see what my fork skewers, as my phone chimes for attention with messages from my Mother.

She’s upset, and so am I … I’m trying to figure out why.

I’m alone in Rocky Hill eating with the cicadas. But, if I close my eyes to them, and the feel of an August night, it takes me to Virginia, and a smile spreads on my somber face. 

The sound of them will always take me back to nights at the picnic table, or around the fire, or laying on cots. They filled all the silent moments with a comforting sort of echoing rhythm. They were the soundtrack to our evenings, and I'm happy to be surrounded by them again. 

intangible love

I love words and everything that they capture.

The way they can invite you into some one's mind and divulge all their thoughts.
The way they can unlock a heart, and reveal all it's secrets.


I love their sound.
I love how they can twist a face when spoken in the perfect combination.
The way they can translate tears into feelings to communicate a voiceless pain.

The way we giggle when someone pronounces them differently than we do.

I love their simplicity and their complexity.
Their range from intimacy to anger.

I love that they can be revised and edited to ask for forgiveness.

It's amazing that they can offer us the ability of a borrowed perspective;
to explain the way that your eyes and heart see the world that might teach me something about the way that mine do.

I love their power and their weakness.
I love them scribbled in a card or sung along lyrically.

They can express, create, define, and redefine all the wonder in the world.

I carry my words. I empty them in one of dozens of journals.
But recently, I've been falling in love with them...all.over.again.

crazy crazy crazy

I just submitted my writing to a contest.

I made the deadline by twenty minutes.

You told me you're proud of me, and I thanked you.

You fill my pen with words, and my heart with hope that someone may love these words the way that you do.