Permitting my
mind to wander
like a small child
in a meadow
back before the
tablets and
animated games
when one would
examine the grasses
and discover its
many kinds–
Rattlesnake grass,
Kentucky Bluegrass,
the type with edible
lavender or buttercup
flowers
Nature was as close
to a child as the chest
of a mother and nature
was enough for the
eighties child
Allowing my
mind to wander
like water
around the bend
around the tangible
spaces of this life
reaching and touching,
smelling and lifting
avoiding the flashing
and faux
Tag: Spirituality
Surrender
How many times
before I learn the lesson?
When I fall, I lessen
Before it was fun and games
cherries, pigtails, self-forgiveness
Now its consequences,
perpetual rain clouds,
ditches.
Shame myself
Smack myself
cry alone
up-in-arms
place blame
point fingers
fuck myself
fuck you too
no, that’s no good,
that won’t do
turn the page
don’t lick the
poisoned apple
turn and run
let my feet
kick up dirt
Live for
responsibility
dignity
prayer
…yeah I may have
dropped the ball
but I’m still here
Forgive me father
for I have sinned
don’t pat me on the
back this time,
you’re not my friend
Mother
Father
I sever the chord
release me
forever
from the mold/
from things so old
stale
gray
black
red black
love me back
light
white
air
I surrender lord
I’m here
Widow Home Part I
“The divine source of all life
is the fulfillment of all potential.” – Iyanla Vanzant
After grandpa choked out that night at the Best Western in Ashland Peggy had taken to moving from one end of the town to the other, and she never claimed it, but was it to escape his ghost?
First it was sell the A-frame where she and Ralph raised Moonbeam—the place with the immaculate carpentry, the knobby-pine cabinets and the gazebo in the back. Her first move was a humble move, I felt. It wasn’t the Peggy I knew to move into a mobile home, but she did. And she had a fucking tower built on to it. It was a sand-colored place with bamboo and a rock yard. Not much from the outside but on the inside it was like something out of Memoirs of a Geisha. It only had maybe two bedrooms but Peggy placed several of those oriental-style room dividers throughout, adding mystery and charm to my sixty-someodd (as she would say) year old grandmothers first Widow Home. A Widow Home being, I would later decide, a place where a woman dug into her own soul like digging into a second-hand bin of silk scarves, saying who’s in there?
This place was me opening birthday presents on a warm October day. My dad with his light blue plaid collared shirt tucked in and spotless corduroys. Who dressed him that day anyway? His eyes were bright and redless. Even my great grandparents (the good ones, not the ones who touched me) were there and I ran around in my little red and white dress that grandma Gladys made me on her sewing machine. Peggy called her “Mother”. I liked to play with the sag on her arms and she would laugh and smile sweetly. This was a woman they called practically perfect. This is a woman my 27-year-old self is certain still hangs around, acting as my own personal guardian angel. After all, it was she who in her dying bed made a reluctant Peggy promise, promise she would care for me if and when someone else could not.
Unplug–the Internet’s a Spiritual Rip Off
It’s not a simple time. It’s no longer a simple life. But the simple life is sold and we fall for it. The simple life is sold in t-shirts branded “Simple”. Simplicity is cropping up in your local malls and its shops are growing larger and its simple products are getting more and more. Simplicity is getting expensive. And trendy. But are you being true to yourself? Do you feel simplified?
Spirituality is promoted until it’s not spiritual anymore. The Dalai Lama preaches humility, thrice a day via Twitter. Ideas are exchanged and yoga studios promise enlightenment just… after… this… one… last… post…then its time for meditation. For real this time. “Off to meditate.” “Done meditating.” “Was great.” “Feel so good.” “Can’t stop typing.” “Don’t forget to ‘Like’ us for a dollar off your next workout.”
I personally can’t deal, can’t hang. My thoughts didn’t pinball around in my head until I was pulled every which way by technology. At night, morning and noon, like you, I groggily shuffle to the laptop and quest for information, enlightenment, validation, and discounts. I sit for hours and I find out a lot but I rarely find what I am looking for. And I NEVER find exactly what I’m looking for. Health. Love. Genius. I am disappointed. I am exhausted.
So I quit. Again. From now on I will no longer have a computer in the house, internet on my phone, or even a television. My home 
will house books, food, hot water and a bed. You know–the essentials. And when I come home from work, I will be able to hear myself think. What a concept.
I will no longer search for the things my spirit needs on Google. It doesn’t work that way. Ask yourself: are you exhausted? Let down? Out of touch with those around you? Out of touch with yourself? You might want to consider what I’m doing: unplugging. Already it’s been two days sans Internet and I. Feel. Peace.
Does that mean I’m done blogging? No. Not even close. I will still post weekly, respond to your comments, and read your work. I have computer access–I have my ways. But my Internet use will be scheduled and moderated. And no I will not be signing up for Google+ and Facebook like some of you have requested. I already have WordPress, Twitter, MySpace and Gmail. What more do you want world?
The only way my spirit will thrive is if it has space to breathe. End of story. The Internet is full of false promises. Beware. Truth lies in the space around your head and in the seemingly empty corners of your home. The world is magical if you just unplug and play with it.
Spirit Reigns
My Spirit is wild for love
It knows what it likes within seconds
There is the body
There is the mind
And then there is the Spirit
Spirit reigns
Conference Notes: Kick Start Your Writing in 2013
“Kick Start Your Writing in 2013” presented at Making it in Changing Times by Polly Campbell a.k.a ‘the guru’ (that’s what I’ve dubbed Polly due to her amazing zen-like approach to the writing process!)
“The energy a writer creates actually changes the world, in a small way, but yes.” – Polly Campbell
3-Part Writing Process:
The Passion:
- Passion is the thing that gets you moving
- In this stage, there is no mastery–and that’s OK
- This piece must be present!
The Plan:
- Create a damn LIFESTYLE of writing
- Specific actions such as:
-I will write one page per day
-I will write in the morning
-I will network once per day - You’ll always get an outcome if you have specific actions!
The Persistence:
- Area wherein the failures and challenges rear their ugly heads
- You’ve got to get over the humps!
- This section looks like this:
-25 query letters to the same guy
-Cold calling
-Public speaking - Persistence is the only way it happens
Powerful Polly Campbell Quotes to Live By:
“Everything is not going to just work out for you. It never does, that just isn’t how life is.” (Tell me about it.)
“Go for good, not great.”
“Ask yourself questions. Then search for the answers.”
“Watch the language you use with yourself. Keep it positive!”
What is a Dream?
You know those dreams you’ve had in life that you’ll never forget? I’m not talking about waking dreams (for once), I’m talking about sleeping dreams. For example, when I was about four years old I had a dream my dad picked me up in a hot air balloon and took me to Safeway to so we could buy some 
ABC soup, which was my favorite meal. Not much happened other than that but for some reason I’ve always remembered that particular dream. But why?
Then there are the recurring dreams–again, when I was just four years old, I’d say from four to six–which was actually a pretty traumatic point in my life–I would have this dream:
I’m in a dark dungeon. I’m lying on my back or my side and there are about five or six little elves running around and climbing all over my body. Above my head is a big roll of lead. Let me explain more: you remember Bubble Tape? They always had Bubble Tape on the rack at the grocery store at the check out stand. It’s like a carpenter’s measuring tape only made out of bubble gum. Yeah. That. So that’s what this big roll of lead is like. The little elves pry my big toddler mouth open, much to my resistance, and insert the end of the roll of lead into my mouth, shoving the lead down my throat. My throat expands and I choke but this goes on for what feels like hours and upon waking faintly taste lead in my mouth, metal in my throat.
I had this dream at least a few times throughout my childhood. I can’t help but notice–now I’m having a dream quite the opposite.
I had one just last night:
Sometimes it’s just me but sometimes, like last night, I’ll have an audience:
I’m back in Crescent City at a party and a lot of my friends are there–all grown up, having a good time, drinking beer by the river. I’m chatting with one of my male friends when I feel a noodle in my mouth. The flat kind–linguine. I put my index finger up to indicate “just a moment”, a break in the conversation if-you-will and reach into my mouth for the linguine. I grab hold of the linguine and tug. Well, that’s where my dream morphs into this recurring dream I’ve been having: pulling a never-ending mountain of noodles from my throat. The more I tug, the more I pull, the more noodles emerge. And just like in the lead dream–I can hardly breathe. My cousin Cevin and his friends approach and there I am, crouched down by a cedar tree, pulling out and vomiting up noodles, for what seems like forever.
What I appreciate about this new dream is this: it’s quite the opposite of my baby-Terah-lead-dream. Clearly, I’m letting it all out now instead of shoving it all in. For fun, I’ll retrieve my dream dictionary, The Complete Book of Dreams & Dreaming by Pamela Ball and interpret some of the imagery from both of these dreams:
Dwarf (sadly Elf was not available): A dwarf indicates a part of our personality which has not yet been integrated or has been left undeveloped. In a dream a dwarf denotes a part of ourselves which has been left damaged by painful childhood trauma or a lack of emotional nourishment.
Lead: The conventional explanation of lead appearing in a dream is that we have a situation around us which is a burden to us. We are not coping with life perhaps as we should be, and as a result it is leaving us heavy-hearted.
Throat: Dreaming of the throat denotes awareness of our vulnerability and also the need for self-expression.
Vomiting: Vomiting is a symbol of discharge and evil. We may have held on to bad feelings for so long that it has caused our spiritual system some difficulty.
I do believe there are connections between our dreams and our spiritual selves. I do believe that if you have, especially a recurring dream, you should pay attention to it and make changes to your life as needed. For example, if you are a man and you dream about a particular woman most nights, you need to explore your relationship with this woman. Or, if you dream about water, water, water, you should visit a spring or a sea–because your subconscious is begging for you to wet her.
Please, readers, share some of your dreams with me. I would love to use my dream book to provide you a little more insight into your subconscious. If you’re into that kind of thing.
Nighty-night. Sweet dreams.
It’s a Serious Life
I don’t know where I’m going
but I know exactly where I’m goin’
The nights are long and
that’s when I drive
even late afternoon is night these days.
I can see only the ground which
the headlights cover.
I just hope for the best
with the rest.
Most my truths come out
at night.
In the day my
truths hide behind
trees and buildings and
large people.
Only the children can see them
with their eyes wide open
their selves not afraid
I hope with all my heart that
any path I choose is right.
But I know that is wrong.
What I mean is, I know that
isn’t true.
I’ve seen enough
sad stories to know there’s
no “all part of a bigger plan”
WE ACT
AND THERE ARE
CONSEQUENCES
So, you’re saying she was suppose to
die an alcoholic who felt like her
children didn’t love her
So, you’re saying the woman who
cannot conceive really isn’t meant
to be a mother
The woman with the nursery
and the money
and the heart
and the warmth
So, you’re saying he was
destined to die on his way
to his wedding
So, you’re saying 26 children
dying is all part of the plan?
Fuck you.
We act and there are consequences
WE ACT
AND THERE ARE
CONSEQUENCES
People who claim it’s all
god’s will must’ve had their
asses wiped and their lunches packed
This is why I take my life so seriously.
One wrong move and
BAM
You end up where you
didn’t want to be.
Should’ve been drivin’ your own
train buddy, shoulda been in the
driver’s seat
Visionboarding & Organization
SPARK Project: A Fortune Teller Once Told Me (True Story)
Here’s my submission for SPARK. My partner Helen will respond with a photograph inspired by the piece. You may or may not remember this poem but it made an appearance on my blog many moons ago. Enjoy! I hope some folks are considering learning more about SPARK–you can participate in the project from anywhere.
A Fortune Teller Once Told Me (True Story)
By Terah Van Dusen
Several years ago
I had a psychic reading
Not at one of those hole-in-the-wall places
with the flashing lights
and crystal balls
It was done in my living room
My former roommate, Sydney, had her future read frequently
Sydney had the same lady come over to our house
oh, every couple months or so
Always when nobody was home
I don’t remember how it was arranged
but the next thing you knew,
I too was signed up for a reading
Sydney promised not to tell the “medium” a thing about me
That way we could insure accuracy
The medium didn’t wear a long, flouncy dress
Or bring a satchel full of rocks and crystals,
She showed up in her Subaru car,
dressed in a North Face pullover and jeans
Said to me, this isn’t my day job
We sat facing each other in the quiet house
Nobody there except for us,
That was one of her rules
That nobody else be there
She took a few minutes to gauge me,
Had her eyes closed, seemed to be sniffing around at the air
Like she were some kind of animal.
I closed my eyes too, I was tired
Maybe its custom to start out by saying a
few nice things about the person.
Because that’s what she did at first,
mentioned a few of my qualities,
built me up a little bit.
She said she noticed that I was a writer.
She told me:
Keep writing, someday there will be people helping you.
As you can imagine, I was pleased
This lady was good
She went on to say that there was a person from
my past, a person who wished to speak to me.
From a past life, from a past life, she clarified.
The medium then, with her eyes still closed,
began speaking in a stranger, lower voice
I realized that the spirit was speaking through her:
It’s you! It’s you! I cannot believe I can finally speak to yyyooou!
The emotion that came with this voice brought tears to my eyes
Ooooohhhhh, youuuuuuuu!
Oh, oh, you are sssso lovely in this life!
The voice was truly eerie,
but my, what a compliment! Lovely?
The medium broke the contact with the spirit
She looked at me and said:
Whoever that was they sure are fond of you.
But, know that not every spirit is good.
Spirits, like humans, are both bad and good.
Let’s move on, she said
I have some advice for you, based on what I’m seeing:
First, know that a good way to gauge your happiness, is that
you are happiest when you are light on your feet.
I would imagine…
Second, you should eat less spicy food. More fresh food.
No and okay.
You are very serious, watch more funny movies and TV shows.
Now, I have given you some advice about how to better your life,
I’d like to mention just a few other things before we close:
You are wondering if you will have
everlasting love: you are not the type.
You will not be with the same man for all of your life.
I’ll show you!
You are wondering if you will be happy when you move from Arizona.
You will be happy, you will be more whole than you have ever been.
In the distant future I see you standing up on a hill,
inside of a prairie or meadow.
Your arms are wide open.
You are rejoicing because
you have finally reached the place
where you’ve been headed all your life.
I will keep my eyes wide-open for that place…
That was the last psychic reading I’ve had
The only psychic reading I’ve had
The woman told me all I needed to know,
and then some.
Knowing your future is not fun.
Whether its true or not.
I mean, there’s the good:
I should keep writing!
People will be helping me!
I’m going to stretch my arms out wide like a crazy
person while standing in a high-elevation prairie!
And then there’s the bad:
I should give up Thai food,
No relationship I will have will last.
Enough is enough,
I know enough now.
I will seek that meadow where
I will be whole and free
and I will try my darndest to have a long,
happy marriage someday.
Regardless of my “destiny”
I paid the psychic $25 bucks that day.
She told me a whole lot more
But its been so long that I forgot it.
I hadn’t written it down because
at the time I was sure I’d remember it all.
TERAH RACHELLE VAN DUSEN 