unrooting life at nautilus teachings

unrooting life at nautilus teachings

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the woman
was rooted
to a life
she had accepted
feeling as if
she never deserved more
she
silenced her voice
she held her
dreams
captive
she
never fed
her soul
so she was
weak,
with low
self esteem…
her middle
name
was trouble
never grace
and she settled
for him
mr. meanjeans
because he was just
like her father
and her brothers
he was like
every man she had
ever loved
a liar
and mean…

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oh, sure
she turned often
to prayer,
but she never
listened
long enough…
she was always worried
he would be
driving up
listening in
peering from
the other side
of the room,
always flinched
at abrupt sounds
ducked quite frequently
trembled
at the slamming of
the door…
her ears were
overflowing
with ugly words
hurled at her.
in fact they were so packed
a nice word
never penetrated
her soul…
every day
she did as she was told
she took care
of the kids
the house…
well,
the everything
he or anyone else
needed.
she never said no,
only
what else can i do for you…
she was so deeply rooted
even her devoted
wonderful and funny
hair stylist
could not
color her
different hues…
one day
as she was talking
with her beautician
she said, 
“what can i do?”
‘well…’ her friend whispered,
‘all we can do it shave it off
and start over…’
there eyes met in terror
“really?”
‘yup…’

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so on the drive home
she bought a razor
and that night
when the kids were
sound asleep
she stood before
mr. meanjeans,
who was
definitely well ‘lubed’ up
and smoking his
favorite weed
on the dock outside
while looking at the moon
probably contemplating
how he would torture
her that night,
and she spoke
“i fucking hate you
and i hate my life
from this day forward
i am taking it back
i am cutting you out.
the kids and i are leaving…”
then
the strength of
her faith welled
up inside her,
she stared him straight in the eyes
and began
shaving every inch of her
soft golden locks
while he stilled himself
chuckled a bit
and when she was finished
he said,
“now, what?running home to daddy?
well, you are not taking my
fucking kids anywhere
so do us all a favor and get
the fuck out of our lives…”
then he turned and faced
the moon.
she did not run
she did not cry
she turned
walked back into her home
put her children
in her already
packed to the gills car
lit the match
and drove away
while the life
she built
went up in flames…

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my turtle man at nautilus teachings

my turtle man at nautilus teachings

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some people
are turtles…
they walk slow
talk slow
drive slow
they are usually
very calm
think through
every decision
can watch a blade
of grass grow
and be happy
they will sit with
someone for hours
if needed…
what’s wrong with that?
NOTHING,
if you are 85…
i love my husband
to death
he makes me giggle
he’s supportive
giving and kind…
he works his buns off
every day
helping people
and i love him,
but
he
drives
like
a turtle…
i truly have to prepare
myself to get in the car
with him…
i begin breathing slow
calming myself
literally preparing for him
to notice
every single
cool car,
new sign
person walking…
it’s funny to me
because when i drive,
I DRIVE!

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yesterday is a great example.
i had to move moms stuff
from rehab to her living facility
which is all on fiske
because today she moves back…
i did the whole trip in 90 min.
he looked at me
and said,
“how did you get all that done
so quickly?”
men!
i
fucking
focused!
i had a job to do
and i got it done
so i could come back
type up his dictations
and get home to do laundry
and cook dinner…
i am still giggling
because
when he surfs
it’s almost perfection,
i love watching him glide
on his board,
when he listens
it’s 100%
although i can tell you
listening is his business
and so he already knows
what you are going to say,
so keep it short!
even when he cooks
its slow, meticulous
delicious…
my favorite slow thing
about him is
spa time…
now,
on friday -sunday
my hubby works like a dog
until spa time…
around 5 he stops…
he grabs his one beer
a water
his waterproof headphones
flips the switch on the bubbles
and heat
then slowly descends
into his spa…
within 15 minutes his head
begins to bob…
then very very very slowly
his body almost shrinks
down into the warmth
and boy do i giggle…
soon his head is down
and he is
OUT!

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when the kids are here
they giggle too
and ask,
“can he drown?”
i laugh
and respond,
“no…he may snort some water
but that would wake him up…”
20-30 minutes later-
WHAM
he wakes up
jumps in the pool
and is revived!
i love my life
with my wise
old turtle
he helps me
to slow down
relax
take life in
one moment at a time…
he has given me
such peace of mind
acceptance
and love,
EXCEPT
when he is driving
then,
this ole
artsy fartsy
slows her breathing
cranks up the music
takes his hand
smiles
and enjoys the
long slow ride
knowing
he is her turtle
and for that
she is grateful…

einstein turtle man=d

einstein turtle man=d

she knows at nautilus teachings

she knows at nautilus teachings

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i am telling you
she is finally
giving up,
it’s not like before…
she could still smile
hold a conversation
do numbers in her head
she remembered everything
but not now,
NOPE
she is jumbled up
confused
keeps asking the same question
she’s scared
she’s demanding
impatient
calling over and over…
the nurses
roll their eyes at her now
she is not here
she is starting to leave
i know she wants
to completely be gone
to stop breathing
to be home
with God
i know, i know, i know
i saw this with my mom
29 years ago…
my mothers doctor
once told me,
“dory will decide
when it’s time to leave
and there is nothing
you can do about it…”
granted she had leukemia
but she fought hard to live
they gave her 6 months
she lived three years
but in july of 1987
she began leaving us
i knew something was wrong
because the Holy Spirit
came to me
told me to say my last words
and like an idiot
i did not
because i was young
and stupid
i believed what my dad said,
“mom is not going to die…”
but you see
that is why i left
for the weekend
when she needed me
the most
and i got sick
and i could not see her
she called
and called me
“sheri, i need to talk to you….”
i didn’t go
because i was so sick
and scared she would die
if i went over
but she died anyway
10 days later…

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so now,
when i see her
like this
i think ,
“this is mom, all over again…”
i just don’t know
but it’s all on me
to be there
to know when to say,
“go to her, d and say goodbye…”
tomorrow she goes
back to her assisted living facility
and wednesday i get to see her again
what if?
just what if she is worse?
it’s on me, now…
and i am not feeling the strength
i usually feel
so i just have
to give it all to God
because
one thing i know for sure
i am not super woman…
but it’s ok…
it really is ok,
because d said its ok
for her to die
he knows she’s miserable…
but if she decides to stay
i am just going to be 150% there for her
rubbing her feet
combing her hair
kissing her cheek
trying to get her to laugh
bringing her ice cream
and just letting her know
i fucking love her to death
and to fucking thank her
for teaching me to use
the f-word
because
she,
she
was the one
who dropped the f-bomb
over and over
laughing the whole time
flipping us the bird
drinking her one cocktail
while she sat at our table…
the table my mother
bought with her own money
the table i fought 27 years to bring home

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she
she sat there toooooooo
and this wonderful
funny memory of her
saying fuck, fuck, fuck
whipping out her middle finger
at d
and making us laugh
will remain
ingrained within the wood-
forever…
is she finally giving up?
today
my answer is yes
today
was the first time
i saw her
look lost
and it broke my heart
because
i knew i had seen this before
and today
i realized
i had seen it
in my own mother…
the colliding of two
lives
unknown to each other
shattering
the same heart
29 years apart…

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bullying at nautilus teachings

bullying at nautilus teachings

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name calling is now called
bullying
and is punishable
by the law…
today cyber bullying
through online message boards and texts,
has led several
young people to suicide,
it happens to
both boys and girls
and is the third
leading cause of death-
WOW!
let’s take a breath here…
i grew up in the 60’s and 70’s
i was picked on
called names
spit upon
shoved to the ground
pinched
and harassed daily
by my brothers…
at school
i hardly spoke
because i had a horrible stutter
so i learned to
exist in silence
with nods and smiles
using as few of words possible…
as i grew up
i married a man
who found pleasure
in hurting me in every way possible
and i can tell you
my truth
was that
never
ever
in a million years
did i ever think
of taking my own life…
life is different today
in this
non pledge of allegiance
conspiracy theory believer
lying politicians
technology world
we are no longer
one nation under God…
so i ask you
what drives a beautiful
young soul to
commit suicide?
the group Sugarland
sings a song titled “mean girls”…

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“Mean girls
Well, I ain’t a mean girl
But I’ve known a few
They’ll make you cry, baby
And then blame it on you
They’ll hate you if you’re pretty
They’ll hate you if you’re not
They’ll hate you for what you lack, baby
Then they’ll hate you for what you’ve got
Mean girls, scratchin’ and spitting
Mean girls, can’t be forgiven
Mean girls, make mean women
Mean girls
It starts on the playground pulling your hair
Then in high school it gets worse from there
You’ll see em coming, they travel in packs
Smile to your face, baby, while stabbing your back
If they ain’t out a-prowling, creeping down the hall
You’ll find em by the lockers, baby
Sharpening their claws
Sugar and spice and everything nice
Thinks she hot but she’s cold as ice
First comes love then comes marriage
Then comes her Mama with another little wannabe
mean girl…”

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this is such truth…
i see it every day
no matter where i go
little girls with make up on
high heels
nails done perfectly
the most ‘in’ outfits
and they are nasty,
little replicas of their moms…
i am not sure what it is
people gain from being unkind
maybe it feeds their ego
or makes them feel strong…
most of us are heartbroken
every day
as we hear of one tragedy after another
of someone killing someone…
ugh!
stop the hate!
stope the judgment !
no matter how much money you have
what car you drive
how big a house you live in
where your kids go to school
how ‘green’ you are
what religion you believe in
NO ONE CARES!
or,
at least i don’t…
what happened to
baking cookies for all your neighbors?
when i was young
we knew everyones name
we watched out for their homes
kids, pets…
we were
KIND
it never crossed our mind
to kill someone,
sure,
there have always been mean people
and my two brothers were among them
but
in all fairness to them
i was the baby
the only sister
very ill
and i took all the attention
so of course,
they hated me…
it does not excuse their behavior
but they were also
kids themselves…
bullying is mean
end of story
what we need
is to learn to
keep our mouths shut
to stop the
name calling
because it hurts…

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yes,
some people are
stubborn and strong
and can take it,
and boy,
do i know i few…
but for the most part
we are a feeling
loving
breaking
caring
society…
there is still faith
people do open doors
for one another
and most families
love, support and help each other
as well as their neighbors…
in this very heated
volatile time in society
all i ask of you today
is to spread kindness
around like confetti
because in the end
it does matter
and that woman you pass
every day in your car
loves it when you wave
at her
your neighbor who is aging
thanks you silently for
helping them with their yard work
and every sunday
when you worship God
side by side
with your fellow parishioners
know
you matter
not just to God
but to every person
who’s life you touch…

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ending the walk at nautilus teachings

ending the walk at nautilus teachings

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she could not walk
no matter
how hard she tried…
sure therapy helped
having someone
hold her up was ok
but her legs
had left her long ago
and now
as she sat
in the shadows
of the corner
of her rehab facility
she wept…
“i want to go home, Lord…
please, please let me die…”
her legs had served her well
for all of her life…
short and stout
a little thick around
her middle
she had lived a tough life
yet through it all
she found strength
to fight
work
earn
heal
support
love
laugh
and cuss
oh how she missed
wonderful conversations
she loved telling stories
always dropping the
‘f’ bomb
whenever she could
laughing til her belly hurt
lips curved up
til they ached for release
from happiness
those were the days…
sitting poolside with
her son
sipping on a cocktail
playing ball with the dogs
while he cooked her
dinner upon his grill…
he
loved
his
mommy !

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now
she sat alone
for many hours
in a room
with none of
her belongings
not even a photograph
only what memories
she had to keep
her company…
twice a week
they would visit
twice a week
she would fight
to walk
show them her strength
tell them
“i’m feeling strong,
i am working hard…
i know i will walk again…”
and then
poof
they were gone
and she could once more
sob uncontrollably
for a life
she
was
finished
with
not understanding
why she remained breathing…
breakfast, lunch and dinner
were served to her
her butt was wiped
diapers changed
three times a week
she got a bath
one hour a day she
was in therapy
and the rest
well,
she sat
in silence
to the white sound
of the television
hammering
over and over
her reality-
her life was over…

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she really
did not want to walk
she wanted to die
she didn’t want
people to spend
money on her
or have to come visit
how could she not
feel like a burden?
she knew they loved her
she knew they would miss her
but this was not
how she wanted to be
remembered…
she was a prisoner
of her body
and wanted release…
they knew this
so they tried to make her laugh
to rub her feet
touch her hands
brush her hair
small things really,
but as she aged
she was touched
less and less
and her spirit
just sort of flattened out
needing nothing
so she decided
to give nothing back
that was not demanded
upon her…
she sits
in rehab,
while they fight insurance
to keep her there,
when what
she really wants them to know
is,
“i want to go home…
i am tired of fighting…
please
just let me live the rest
of my life
in my chair
at pineapple gardens
with all my friends…
i don’t want to walk
i want to go home…”
do you think they hear her?
are they really listening
to her silent nods
and conformity?
are they truly fooling
themselves into believing
she will walk again?

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i know she wants
to not disappoint her son
i know he wants her to walk
i know she will never
tell him the truth
i know he is hurting
at the thought of never
seeing her again…
what i also know
is i am done fighting
to give her something
she does not want.
yes, she tells her son
“yes, i want to walk…”
and then she looks at me
rolls her eyes
as they fill with tears
and i close mine
praying to God
to release her
and take her
home to Him…
how long will she sit?
how many days will
rehab hold her?
if it was up to me
i would check her out
take her home
and just let her
be free from the burden
of a life
she has already
left behind…

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uncluttering at nautilus teachings

uncluttering at nautilus teachings

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as we age
we either
hoard
or we
shed…
during our young years
of raising kids
we never care
about the clutter
clothes laying all over
games stacked high
we embrace the
mad, glorious mess
and think
‘this is life!’
but then,
one by one
they leave home
starting their own life
not wanting to
take their boxes
of stuff
and we are left
with pieces of their life
scattered everywhere…
i know moms
who left their kids rooms
exactly how they left them
and when they come home
they have these minis shrines
of their youth…
not me!
when my annie left
i boxed up her stuff
put it in storage
and made her room
a home art studio.
and when emily left
for college
i had her room empty
and gutted in 3 hours
and over the next week
made it into a guest room…
i listen to moms
every new school year
‘i can’t believe they are going to college,
what am i going to do without them?’
my response is usually
‘walk around the house naked…’
which gets them to giggling
and then i say,
‘you brought them here to give back to the world,
now let them go…you gave them wings, it’s their time
to fly and your time to just love them from afar…’
oh sure,
i missed my girls something fierce
when they left
i still miss them
but thats just it,
i miss the days of their youth
when i was needed
and they wanted to
hang out with me
watch movies
bake…
but now, they are adults
and guests in our home
when they visit,

Guests, like fish, begin to smell after three days. Benjamin Franklin

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we love when they visit
and we love when they go home
we shed the mother
needs to do everything mask
and are now
just mom
and that’s OK!
at least for me.
would i like to have
all my children living near me?
sharing in their lives
as they marry,
have children
and grow old?
YES.
but reality is
my life is not a fairy tale
it’s not like the show
Parenthood
on netflix!
doc and i feel very blessed
to have our son nick and his
beautiful wife jules
moving here
wanting us to be
a big part of their life…
for us, with
a blended family of 5 kids
we know
they are our only hope
we know we will have
to travel to see the other 4
to work to be more than
phone conversations
and texting in their lives
so,
as we are aging
we are shedding…
we are getting rid of
bulky items
simplifying our home
updating everything
with the knowing
we are
getting older
more wobbly
there may one day
be a need
for a wheel chair access
because we intend
to not run
and hide in a corner
from our long life
but embrace
all life has to throw at us
remembering
how years ago
this room once held
our small children
how they would slam
the doors
scream
leave the floors a mess…

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we don’t need the clutter
of stuff
to remind us
of days gone by,
for that
we have shared memories
pictures we can hold
in our hand
photo albums to open up
and time,
lots and lots of time
to hold hands
sip some lemonade
-or in my case Titos-
and watch the world
rush by
from our chase
on our front porch
wondering
what in the heck is
everyone running towards
what are they looking for
when everything they need
is right inside
and beside them…
donate to charity
give away clothes
you will never fit in
downsize the stuff
cluttering up your
beautiful home…
the house is that
which holds memories.
take a deep breath in,
then create a world
you want to come home to
one that makes you happy…
if that is still
a rambling,
stuffed to the gill,
furniture around every corner,
your kids baby pictures
lining the dark hallway,
closets stuffed with their
old jerseys, yearbooks…
then i say
enjoy…
and if you need a slice
of calm stillness
a wee bit o’ paradise
come one over
and see doc and i
we have lots of space
for you to breath in…

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hermits at nautilus teachings

hermits at nautilus teachings

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her·mit1
/ˈhərmət/

noun
1 a person living in solitude as a religious discipline.

when i was young
an elderly lady
lived on one side of us…
every day in the summer
you could see her
gray bun atop her head
while she worked
in her huge vegetable
and flower garden.
she wore dark glasses
long billowy dresses
that blew in the wind
white socks
and gray lace up shoes
i
never
talked
to her
but i watched her…
she lived alone
and on Sundays
her daughter and grandchildren
would visit…
during those long hot
midwestern summers
i would lay upon
the tall green grasses
next to the fence
which separated our yards
and wait for a glimpse of her…
sometimes all i saw were shoes
hardly ever her face
and when our eyes did catch
she would smile

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not me, though,nope…
i would hold my breath
my heart would begin to
bam, bam, bam
in my chest
and i became frozen.
she would turn away
and i would exhale
roll over and run away…
for some reason
people scared me…
sure i had a few friends
and one bff
but with her
we barely talked
we just giggled
and whispered
into each others ears…
my dad would say
we communicated
through osmosis

os·mo·sis1 
noun
the process of gradual or unconscious assimilation of ideas, knowledge, etc.:

when we moved
to a new town
when i was 11
two girls would ride
their bikes each day
to my house and
knock on the door…
i would hide so
my mother could not
find me
and when i knew
they were gone
i would wander out
and my mother would say,
“ya know, sher, those girls
just want to be your friend…”

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this terrified me
because it would mean
i had to speak
and since i was small
i had a horrible stutter.
i went to speech class
and my teachers name
was,
and i am not kidding you,
Mrs. Butt!
that still makes me giggle…
i successfully made it
through school
college
speech classes
wedding vows
by learning
which words to avoid
and mostly how to breath…
on occasion i still stammer
when i am nervous or anxious.
when i first moved here to florida
i hated men,
every
man!
doc tells the story
of how,
“everybody likes me…everyone stops
their cars and chats with me
when i am out front…but this one-
(pointing at me) NO!
she would drive by with her top down
hair flying
and not even look at me…”
this is so so so true!
if i knew he was near
i would run in my house
until the day
he came around the backside
of our streets loop
pulled in my driveway
and said,
as he pointed at my trees
“are those fox tails?”
i was rolling my hose up
when he spoke
and i was so startled
i looked at him and replied,
“lsdkjfdljalfjldfjldfjalsjfldkjf…..”
he just laughed
waved and thought to himself
‘well she is beautiful
but retarded!’
which brings me back to my
old neighbor of my childhood
Mrs. McQue
living alone
baking pies
gardening
and just happy !
today
as i think of her
i giggle
knowing one day
when i am old
and d has gone
home to the Lord
(yes, he gets to go first
because he’s older!)
i will get to be
my own Mrs. McQue
wandering aimlessly
singing loudly
in a house full
of dogs
canvas and paint
happy as any hermit crab
can be
knowing any day i rise,
if i don’t like where i live
i can change it
and no one will
say a word…

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giving away her daughter at nautilus teachings

giving away her daughter at nautilus teachings

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the small girl
was born
of them
but
she was really
just of him,
and although
her mother cried
for her first born
daughter,
longing to hold her close
protect and guide her
she knew
from the twinkle
in his eye
this tiny soul
belonged
only to him…
from first breath
first smile
first hand grasp
she was
daddy’s little girl
and as she grew
she became
him,
stubborn
headstrong
she could charm
a rattlesnake
with her soft voice
her beauty
stopped people
in their tracks
and boy could she
talk up a storm
regaling people
with her stories…
with every year
she let her little girl go
she let him
have her…

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the sacrifices a mother
makes for her child
is sometimes immense
and in this case
she knew he
needed
someone
to love him
unconditionally
and that could not
be her
it needed to be
the small beauty,
who grew up
to be small in stature
but ginormous
in grace
kindness
forgiveness
and faith…
each year
her mom
untethered
one strand
which attached them-
each time she did this
she would find herself
in the closet crying,
it was like a slow
painful death…
for a short few years
when he fully
disappeared
into the world of
addictions,
she tried to
wrap her daughter up
in golden threads
of love,
but the girl rebelled
because ultimately
she was not
of her
she was of him…
they were never close
they never bonded
no matter what her mother did
it was wrong…
she blamed her mom
for her problems,
for his problems…
she yelled at her mom
over and over,
until one day
her mom
could take no more
and told
her grown beauty,
the child she gave
birth to
the one she loved
so so much
and reminded her
of her mother
to,
“fuck off and get the fuck out of her life…”
on this day
the woman
broke.

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she fell to the floor
begging God
to take her.
she wept,
trembled,
wept some more
and then
left her home…
from this day forward
her daughter
would
never be of her
not even in
the tiniest way…
she grieved long
and hard
crying daily
praying
giving everything
up to God…
in a way,
it was like
her daughter
just divorced her.
she would not answer
any texts or calls,
the brief conversations
they had
were always of him
and his family,
she cared nothing
of her mom
or sister and brother
and the mother
ached…
there was a crevice
so deep
only release could heal it…
the mother sat
in silence
for months
hurting
never sharing
just letting the wound
fester
every time it would
scab over
she picked it raw
letting it bleed
watching the tiny drops
of blood trickle down her arm
feed her soul…
she gave birth
to a small beauty
so long ago,
she gave her
to him
knowing
for her entire life
there would be
a huge hole
in her heart,
and ya know what
she was ok with that,
because
her body was a
map of scars
which all led
to the center of her,
that was faith…
today
they live thousands
of miles apart
and on the rare
occasion her daughter
actually calls her
she stops everything,
pauses,
takes a deep breath
and answers,
“hey beautiful,
how’s my girl?”
and for the next 5 minutes
she is back
in the hospital
holding
the little girl
she would never know…

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releasing stress at nautilus teachings

releasing stress at nautilus teachings

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stress is harmful
to our bodies
we loose hair
get headaches
forget things…
there are so many
symptoms of stress
it’s unbelievable .
every morning
i wake up
knotted…
my body is
tucked into a
tight fetal position
my hands
are in balls
clenched tight
fingers swollen
from lack of circulation
every joint aches,
throbs
and as i
unfold myself
to greet the day
i feel not just my age
but stressed…
life keeps us all busy
some days
we barely get out
of bed and get
one thing done,
while others
it’s as if we are running
a race to see
if we can “get it all done.”
rest is healing.
i sleep very well
most nights i am
under covers for
8-9 hours
but when i wake
i feel exhausted…
every night
i fall into deep sleep
then i wake
to pee
to stretch
to pee again
and every time
my tiny mind
begins
my to do list
for the next day…

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i quickly shut it off
by saying
the Lords Prayer
over and over
until
once more i wake
from a hot flash
my body tingling
my soul
begging the AC to kick on
as the small fan
i have bedside
barely blows
air across my body…
my husband is
FROZEN solid
two blankets on
most nights
he wanders outside
to sleep in the heat
on our front porch chase …
but i remain
inside
all knotted up…
i long for my arms
to be unbound
to sleep without movement,
to stretch like
a normal person
upon waking
i want to know
how it feels
to not be swollen
from the lack of blood
circulating while i sleep…
tell me,
how does it feel to sleep
unknotted?

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i so easily slip into a peaceful
and calm dreamworld
but as the hands on my clock
tic tic tock away
one by one pieces of my body
begin folding inward,
tensing
and soon
i am in a ball…
when i wake
over and over
it is to rub the anxiety
from my knuckles
to assure my healing soul
that although the ache
may be deep
i no longer have to sleep
with one eye open
in vigilance
i am safe
i am loved…
but the unconscious
dream state i am in
invokes fear
my mind replays
over and over
the movie strips of my life
when i
was
filled with anxiety
always unsure
if tomorrow
i would finally
leave behind
the life i had chosen…
i did
leave it all behind
i did
break open
i did
give everything
to God
and when the sun rises
and i see my husband
sound asleep
beside me
Da Boys
snoozing in their beds
i turn towards
one of my paintings
and say,
‘good morning, God…’

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then i check my phone
to make sure no-one
has stolen anything
from my porch
while i slept
and one by one
i unclench
the tightness
in my limbs,
rise
and begin life
all over again…
stress is a part of life
and managing it
can be a full-time job,
being knotted
will never leave me,
this i know
for it is who i am
and as much as
i have forgiven
and let go
the truth remains the same
what i lived through
will never leave me
it is a part of who i am
i do rise with happiness
and gratitude
within my heart
i am thankful
i slowed my pace
i breath in stillness…
each day i wake
i peel open my
eyelids to greet a new day
and i unfold my body…
i smile
knowing
i have this small
beautiful life
in which i get
to color this big world
one person at a time,
and for that
i am forever grateful…

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old wives tales takes flight at nautilus teachings

old wives tales takes flight at nautilus teachings

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memories play tricks
accusations of lies
bounce off her shell
she promises God at this moment
to live in her truth
to share her story
and live a life of acceptance
forgiving all
and living
through her faith.
in a split second
she advances against neglect
of remedial balm
and allows the squall to dominate
her essence…
faith as her shield
and wings ablaze with premonition
of invasion
she is able to stand in silent vigilance
recalling the foreboding
and vow at this moment
she is not a mistake
she is worthy…
she shudders
as her wings span out beyond
and over her tanned, soft shoulders
she is covered with strength
as her mind embraces
the alternatives of flight…
retreat, submit, confront, suffer…
what she wishes is to harmonize
soul, mind, body, spirit and faith…
she is wavering
and desire passage into the hands
of tranquility…
she chooses release-
is flooded with forgiveness
and stands tall in the corner
which once housed her scattered pieces
her brilliantly colored dreams
and tears which made up
her turquoise waters for
wise old mr. hawksbill to live within…
no longer a mermaid
she turns toward the darkness
saying,

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“Painted Guardian
of the shadowed images
who knows my truth
and protects,
loves
and
forgives me,
Please
Release me from torment
So I may
Abide
Open
Giving
Splattering my
Colors
Along the asphalt
Of life
Delivering me
From the burdens
Held captive within my veins…”
Altered, stripped and anticipating escape
her wings suspend
her feeling of abandonment…
her spirit is brimming with joy
as she rises
the anticipation sets
her heart to beating rapidly…
she places her hand upon her chest
raises her foot
to the 4th and then the 5th step
as the heaviness
of all she had been carrying
begins to crumble
as she watches
one by one the
baby pink barnacles
fall
as they bling, bling, bling
against the sandy bottom of memory
leaving her skin
tingling with
a surface current
caused by the friction
between who she
was told she was
and who she knew
she was born to be…

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the waving seagrasses
were still growing
only now they were
upon the steps
and below her
warm turquoise waters
were rising gently as
dozens of
brilliantly colored
baby fish
were darting
back and forth…
she continued her climb
towards the mezzanine
as the healing waters
began encompassing her toes
inviting her to play…
she glances down
and sure enough
there was wise old
mr. hawksbill
and fancy finns
her childhood friends
looking up at her…
she would not leave them behind
she would carry them
within her heart
they would be emblazoned
upon her soul forever.
the tears from her
right eye had
subsided
happiness and gratitude
worn for all to see,
she took in the expanse
of the life
awaiting her
and took flight…

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