Pressing In

       ODE to the Bleeding Hearts Here’s to all the mothers, lovers, brothers, friends.  To all the fathers, sisters and children. This is to each of you,  who after whatever sleep you were able to find last night, slowly opened your eyes this morning.  And then remembered. For that moment when you realized it wasn’t just a terrible dream and you close your eyes again, hoping to forget. For that sharp, stabbing pain of loss right in the middle of your gut that goes so deep that even your soul literally hurts, literally feels pain.  For you as you curl up in a vain attempt to hold it together as hot tears fall from your face and sounds escape you that you don’t recognize. This is for however many mornings that you face in this exact same way and wish you could just go back to sleep and not ever remember the reality again.   This is for you Dear One, as you try to process through a fog what this means for today....

                                                                               Sometimes in the funky seasons, when things seem quiet and lonely, we have to go back to rest on what has already been spoken; what has already been proven. When the quiet aches of our hearts ring so loudly in our ears and it's hard to hear beyond the noise.  When we find ourselves empty and unsure of which way to move or if we want to move at all.  When we can come to the end of ourselves and vain searches to fill the voids and can open our hands that are scarred and bleeding from gripping tightly to memories of yesterday for fear of losing them all together. When we can look up to see the ones that we love that are here, rather than withholding love because we are busy looking down at these hand...

                                                                                                 Fully Surrendered                                     I stood in front of the beautiful, snow laced scenery.  I admired ...