The road is solid beneath my feet;
it twists and turns and stretches for as far as I can see.
I trust the road and walk along the path it creates.
Its ups and downs soothe my soul, but in my heart I know;
this road is just an illusion of a path leading to a destination.
A road to nowhere.
The road starts to crumble beneath my feet,
and I step off onto unknown grassy terrain.
One baby step
at a time
I create:
A road to somewhere.
Soon after a beautiful and healthy baby girl was born, her parents discovered that she had rare disorder that would keep her from ever feeling any pain. A burnt tongue from a steaming cup of hot chocolate or a scraped elbow from a fall would go unnoticed by her deadened nerves. This news at first shocked her parents, but they soon fell into a cocoon of peace at the thought of never having to worry about their child enduring physical agony. They felt blessed, but this soon turned to despair as the little girl’s life crawled on.
First, there was the incident of her three-month old baby skin being burnt by hot coffee that leaked steadily from a table she could not get out from under. She didn’t cry for help, because she didn’t feel a thing. When she began to move around and discovered the fun of using her own hands she started poking her eyes repeatedly, eventually prying her right eye from its socket. When her teeth came in, she unknowingly bite through her own lips and tongue, leaving her parents no other option than to have all of her teeth removed. Her parents now long that their little girls life could include the blessing of pain.
I recently heard and was moved by this story. I may not have experienced immense physical pain in my life, but I have definitely been through a number of painful experiences. I often asked myself ,”why did this happen to me?” Now I have started to ask, “what can I take and learn from this?” For every break-up, lost friend, or mistake there has been something for me to learn from that experience. So I went digging through the mud in hopes to find something shiny.
My heart has been broken; I have made mistakes that create chaos in my life; I have lost friends, and these events have not been pleasant. In examining each painful situation though, there was a common thread woven between them. That thread was change, and it was golden. Change provides an environment for growth and self-discovery. It also keeps life from getting boring; for a recovering drama queen like myself, that is splendid. Change is a treasure stuck in the mud of pain.
For the little girl who feels no pain, there will never be a threshold to cross or a boundary to break; but we who can feel the stinging pain that is inevitably thrown at us, can break through. Pain is the catalyst for change and change is the gateway to a full and exciting life.
A layer of translucent skin is gently peeled away,
revealing another that simply can not stay.
I am stripped
Slowly but surely my brown turns to white,
and I stand naked bathed in light.
I am raw
I need to be cut through, so swiftly I’m diced;
provoking tears you can not fight.
I am ready
My severed body is thrown on a fire,
and languidly I shrivel to what you desire.
I am transformed
I have been thoroughly processed and finally I stand,
as part of the beautiful dish now in hand.
I am gone
That dish is life for you to gain, for I am not an onion;
I am your pain.
What you need:
Trader Joe’s Pita Bite Crackers
Extra Creamy Brie Cheese
Dates (chopped)
What you do:
Spread Brie on cracker and sprinkle with chopped dates
What you get:
Amazing awesomeness
Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in perfect harmony.
~Ghandi
A bouquet of brightly colored balloons drifted through the air, these balloons were filled with my childhood lofty ambitions and goals. I was going to be a gold medalist figure skater, an Oscar-winning actress or an extremely glamorous supermodel. I was going to have it all, and these balloons soared high above the tiny box houses and stagnant streams below.
I never dreamed of getting a bronze medal at the Olympics or just being a non-famous working actress, I always dreamed of being the best. In reality, the chances of even getting on an Olympic figure skating team or becoming a cover model were about the same as winning the mega millions lottery, but these dreams did not seem strange or unreasonable to me when I was a child. Turns out I had two left feet when I was on skates so trying to gracefully glide over the ice on one leg resulted in a broken nose not a broken Olympic record. That gold balloon holding my Olympic dream was popped early. I tried acting when I was younger and loved every minute of being on stage, but the shiny dream of becoming a star holding a statue slowly dimmed and flickered like an old halogen lamp. That balloon deflated until it was nothing but a dead weight hanging off the dwindling bouquet.
One by one the balloons were popped or the helium just seeped out. Not born with the looks of a supermodel, well you can’t be one; pop. Can’t dance well on point shoes, a ballerina you will never be; bang. Can’t even do one push up, there goes the dream of being a world-class body builder; hiss. The balloon bouquet sank lower to the ground, my dreams and ambitions still afloat just not as lofty as they once were.
Rather than saving the world, it became helping one person at a time. Rather than being a genius graduating from Harvard by the age of 17, it became getting straight A’s in a state college. Rather than being the first female President of the United States, it became being the first person in my family to get a good job right out of college, and how hard was that considering I was the oldest in my family. My dreams became plagued with the fear of failure and shriveled from blooming roses to mediocre carnations. I succeeded in school and career, but my successes were not meaningful.
Why do we stop dreaming big dreams and just go along with the flow of life? My soul is craving to live a waking dream full of meaning, so now is the time to refill the helium and fly away. My dream is to be a therapist, to help people in the depths of depression or anxiety, to guide them along this unstable tightrope of life. My dream is to have an honest and fulfilling relationship; my dream is to travel; my dream is to help others; my dream is to live life fully aware.
There may not be as many balloons in the bouquet, but the colorful arrangement once again is flying high above the tiny box houses and stagnant streams.
Love-Love is how the game starts,
the slate is clean as is the heart.
The players gaze across the court,
carefully calculating each others move in this sport.
The untainted ball flies over the net,
and with equal force it is met.
Back and forth this volley goes;
one player misses, the other scores.
They walk away a little sore, and
Love-Love remains no more.
Men are like earrings; they dangle from you on occassion, but easily detach.
The Kleenex mocks me in its bright colored box, as if to call out happy thoughts;
but as I reach for what lies within, it is not with a joyous grin.
For you see, that soft white tissue is there to comfort me.
To blot away tears that fall freely.
Oh deceitful box, how I wish I did not need thee!
This year I tried my first yoga class and was shocked to discover that the yoga studio did not smell of Patchouli and that it kicked my butt. I have never sweat more. Not only that, but it calmed my high-strung self completely down. The greatest blessing of all was that during the final pose, Savasana or Corpse Pose, I thought of nothing. My mind which usually races like a drunken monkey was completely still. Bliss, I have been hooked ever since.
Yoga (meaning to join) originated in India a long time ago. It is a practice that unites mind, breath, and body and it is not easy. In this hectic day and age I have discovered that yoga helps immensely with focusing and with stress; plus I have actually developed flexibility and, shocker, some muscle!
So if you thought yoga was not a good work out or just for hippies; give it a shot, you will be surprised.
P.S. A yoga place I really like in the LA area is Santa Monica Power Yoga http://www.poweryoga.com/
Annepiphanies 
