I tiptoe to my hurt place
The soft spot on my soul
My fingertips are gentle
Touching moments turned to coal
Every feeling has a story
A mistake I’ve come to own
I forgive them one by one
I don’t have to be alone
I forgive myself for abandoning him
I forgive myself for falling over drunk
I forgive myself for yelling in anger
I forgive myself for resigning to flunk
I have more love than regret
Enough love to set
God said, “Love your enemy.” So I obeyed, and loved myself. – Khalil Gibran
I wrote a blog post for the site Sound Effects responding to the question:
How does sounds effect you?
Sound is memory….
Sound has made me who I am. I was raised on sound – ordered sound, what we call music: Jackson 5 in the morning, ZZ Hill in the afternoon, Bob Marley at bedtime. These sounds were as much a part of my life as the music of my mother’s jingling bangles, my father’s melodic whistling around the house, and my sister’s tap dancing down the hall way.
Read more >>> HERE <<<
I just wish we could love and understand each other. But that’s almost wishing we were different people (There’s a song in that). I’m still grieving, and it’s difficult for me to keep saying to myself, “It’s for the best,” when so many parts of me reject that idea, the finality and dismissiveness of that. But I can’t fight or be in denial either of what is. This is. And that’s the answer. To be more present, to just be grateful. I am thankful for the universe conspiring to teach me, even the hard lessons.
I am love.