Tag: thoughts

Meditation

Posted on by stacyeliz

I like to wake with the sun

sit alone and listen to the birds tell their stories

I like to watch each of my thoughts escape from my grasp, 

They float off on the breeze, and I smile as they pass 

I am not my thoughts, I am the consciousness behind them

This is important work for me, this sitting in silence 

I have to accept that believing what my thoughts tell me, would lend  itself in the long run 

to a deep rooted misunderstanding about the nature of me

See Someone told me once, that I was a sinner—-that I was in need of saving, and that my own being was so corrupt, 

so contaminated 

that I could not be trusted to save myself

I believed it, oh-how completely and fully I believed it, I built my whole life around it

Every single day, I placed my value and my worth in the hands of another and I believed that following the paths laid before me, was the way of love, all the while, not loving myself

Then, I started to look at the brave ones, the greats, the ones history tells us to trust, and I started to see that unlike brainwashed me, they’d stepped out on their own, they’d branched off from their crowds, they’d left the comforts of that which had always been for them, to pave a way to what could be

And they did it alone at first

And each and every journey they took, began with getting to know silence

——-I’ve heard it said before that sometimes the quiet is violent

And I’ll agree

The inner work that has to be done to undo Every Single False Belief you ever let sit in your psyche because someone before you planted it there, will break your fucking bones

But, YOU can and YOU will put them back together 

And when you do, NO ONE will ever be able to deny the radiance that is and always was YOU, from the moment you were born—there was no magic age when suddenly you went from worthy to unworthy—-you, simply by being here were enough all along

NO ONE will affect you with their thoughts or their beliefs about you………or themselves 

For you, you see right through it

And you understand that Somebody Somewhere told them about their condition and they believed it and  they chose it, and they’ve made it work for them-so they built a life around it, and it’s comfortable, and you remember what that’s like….

But never do you wish it for yourself again

Because as for me, I like to wake with the sun

Sit alone and listen to the birds tell their stories 

I like to watch each of my thoughts escape from my grasp

They float off on the breeze, and I smile as they pass 

And, I am not my thoughts, I am the consciousness behind them

You Feel Me? Rambling Prose, maybe Rhyme…IDK IDK

Posted on by stacyeliz

Steph—-you will be the only one who grasps each line

When we were little girls we used to sing about sipping cider, now we sip our coffee before the sun

We don’t talk about what’s to come, we talk about the past. Reminiscing on our lessons, on the things that we’ve done

We laugh and we have answers—-but then, we were little girls whose dreams were lost in the patriarchy

We ponder aloud, “Who could we have been? Where could we be?” Because no matter how hard we love, this shit is still bitter tasting

“Did I ever belong to me?” I ask. She says, “No, we never did and oh my God- I was so fucking stupid.”

Don’t say that. Don’t say that; It wasn’t our choice that the system degraded us to nothingness

The only goal then was marry someone and have some children…

On our own, we held no worth

But my beautiful sister, we know now—-we know, we know, we know

We know so deeply its reshaped our bones

You know its not just keeping tabs, its using what we have, to seal up the wounds in the gaps where it stabs

That, or bleed out, bleed out—- I think they’d  rather the latter than to simply sit down and ask, “What’s the matter?”

“Oh the places you’ll go and the places you’ll see,” I grew up on that shit but its forsaken me

False promises, Seuss. Don’t say that to little girls, it causes them to dream while their under the roof, or glass ceiling really

But——We are who we needed; We are who we needed. And, We have all we need, behind our eye-lids

We let Silence do it’s work and then for our kids—-we sit with it, no teaching-no preaching—just being

Can’t wake the dead with a kiss, maybe we can rouse them with our metaphorical fists

Cause I’m not ever going to stop blasting this shit, if I ever do might as well slit my wrists—-but only with a butter knife 

So as not to cut too deep, I’m not letting go of this world, I don’t need it- but it needs me

I’m rambling on at this point because my coffee is getting cold, and as the warmth leaves my cup, my ideas start to fold

So now its time for me to sit here and think, of all the things that mean nothing and are everything to me

Rambled and Written by: Stacy Johnson (Day 2 Crone, 6-26-19)