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tornadoday

~ …might I be found in words I leave behind

tornadoday

Tag Archives: dreams

I am ~

19 Friday Sep 2014

Posted by tornadoday in a time for telling, Poetry

≈ 16 Comments

Tags

awareness, becoming, conscious consciousness, destiny, dreams, emotional intelligence, faith, fearless, forgiveness, grace, knowledge, life, living, love, old maps, passion, reason, spirit, strength, truth, understanding, value, wisdom

bellbuckle2012

This week, I attended the last in a series of classes on leadership. As much as I’ve enjoyed the other sessions, this was the one I anticipated the most. It dealt with emotional intelligence. More and more companies are coming to understand both the importance and the benefit of emotional intelligence, our ability to connect at the most basic level with others.

Emotional intelligence is really about relationships. It is the ability to monitor one’s own and other people’s emotions, to discriminate between different emotions and label them appropriately, and to use emotional information to guide thinking and behavior. If you think about life as a boat, Emotional Intelligence is the sail.

Relationships are key. For lack of some better way to say it, without relationships we are totally dependent on ourselves for our successes, our joys, our accomplishments.  As humans, we are bound one to another.  It is our blessing.

I love the way we started the session. Each of us wrote on a piece of paper the name of one person who had a positive impact on our life. My immediate thought was ‘all of them’……but knew that would take a lot more explaining than my teacher was up for, and that it would likely derail the planned curriculum. And so, I wrote a single name. I felt compelled to not write the name of anyone in my immediate family, and so I chose my Aunt Lillian. Beyond the name, we were asked to write a few things (on separate notes) that endeared us to that person (what made them the person you chose).

We proceeded with the class, but in the end, we circled back to the name. Our teacher placed charts around the room – one for IQ, one for technical abilities, and another for emotional intelligence. We then took our pieces of paper (the ones with the traits) and placed them on the appropriate chart. The purpose of this exercise was to show us clearly that those we hold closest to our hearts aren’t the ones who are most intelligent or most proficient. However, in some ways, perhaps they are the most wise.

‘People will forget what you said and forget what you did but they will never forget how you made them feel.’

As with most things, I held our discussions a little longer, turning them over and over in my head. Allowing (perhaps) a more thorough understanding, and relating what I’ve learned back to what I know, what I believe. And, in doing so, I reflect on my students, my friends, my family. I want for them all that they need to be happy, content, at peace. And yet I know that is not within my power to give. Perhaps all I can do is help them to see that they are the ones with the real power. Whatever we want for our lives, we can only achieve it by realizing our abilities to make it happen, and disregarding our own inner voices that tell us it can’t.

il_fullxfull_629143088_e8uzWhile behavior is harder to change, emotional intelligence is generally learned. And it is learned by stretching, by making it a habit, by being aware not only of who we are and what we feel, but also what others feel – about themselves, about us.

Yes, I know I make it sound easy. The truth is, it’s not……..but it is.

I ask my students, ‘what would you do if you weren’t afraid’. What if you weren’t afraid of succeeding, of falling, of being alone, of being responsible, vulnerable, broken? What would you do if you weren’t afraid of letting go, of being happy? Fear keeps us safe, and reminds us to hold onto all the things that we’ve used to define our lives – every hurt, every wrong, every failure, every fault. Funny, but we hold on to the things that make us sad, to the things that cripple us. The hurts become lasting ones; the failures, barbed wire keeping us from a different future.

It breaks my heart.

‘Years ago, a friend of mine and a passenger were in Europe driving on the Autobahn, the superhighway across Germany. Unlike American freeways, the Autobahn has no speed limits. You can travel as fast as you want to drive.

My friend was so excited as he pressed down on the accelerator and took the car up to 80 miles an hour, then 90, 100, 110. He felt like the king of the road, zooming past people left and right.

A few minutes later, another car streaked down the freeway. This car was the exact same model as my friend’s car, but it blew by him like he was standing still. That second automobile must have been going 170 per hour.

The passenger traveling with my friend laughed and said, ‘See; you’re not going as fast as you can. You’re just going as fast as you will.’

I love that story. Our power is to choose. We always choose. Even when we don’t choose, we’ve chosen. The incredible thing about life is that every single day, we get the chance to start over – to step out beyond the things that keep us from living the life God intended us to have.

I am
the child of a living God
the essence of a garden
I am the blood
of ten thousand tribes
made to one
I am the breath of heaven
a river rush with tears
a light denied
the limits
of the sun

I am
willing to be broken
so that I might rise again
deciding as I will
my destiny
I am not afraid
of falling
mine are wings
of love divine
I will lean into
and wait
a certain wind

. . .

rings ~

16 Tuesday Sep 2014

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

becoming, bliss, cherokee, connection, death, destiny, dreams, fearless, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, living, love, nature, old maps, passion, poetry, reason, restless, seeing in the dark, spirit, spirituality, truth, understanding, value, wandering, wisdom, wonder

heavenhere

in the vast
unknowing
of all I am yet
an albino lark makes
her nest
in the arms of a cedar
ten thousand rings deep
with a view
of the night –
a candle so bright
would burn up the shadows
as backward to day
is held to her song
as the dark falls away –
rocked into dreams
by the still

. . .

echoes ~

10 Wednesday Sep 2014

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

becoming, connection, dreams, faith, fearless, forgiveness, grace, knowledge, life, living, love, memory, old maps, passion, poetry, reason, restless, sacred intimacy, soul, spirit, truth, value, wonder

knowingstill

where am I written
does your soul bear
my name
without memory
of years passed between

are there places
made safe
by the refuge of life
a silence
where hope
is redeemed

by the echo
of heartbeats
wherever you are
another trembles
unseen

where am I written
where am I known
– a love
once made famous
in dreams

. . .

from ashes ~

09 Tuesday Sep 2014

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 18 Comments

Tags

becoming, bliss, connection, conscious consciousness, death, destiny, dreams, faith, fearless, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, love, old maps, passion, poetry, reason, relationship, spirit, strength, truth, understanding, value, wonder

sweeterkiss

how cool the hands
of early fall
the arms of winters yet
where promise keeps a bride
of snowy white
autumn grieves
the burning leaves
sheets to slumber pressed
as weary souls
remembered back
to light

beyond the fate
of silent lips
another sun is born
from ashes
how the wing’ed ones
do fly
up into the warm caress
foretold one summer night
when lovers cast their wishes
to the sky

. . .

deeper than grief ~

03 Wednesday Sep 2014

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

becoming, bliss, breath, cherokee, colors, connection, conscious consciousness, destiny, dreams, faith, fearless, grace, knowledge, life, living, love, memory, nature, old maps, passion, postmark, reason, restless, spirit, still sometimes, understanding, value, wandering, wisdom

whisperedlongings

there are places
untouched
by the passing of time
sorrows much deeper
than grief
a wanting for wisdom
would alter our fate
and take us to home
on wings of belief

to a life
beyond living
unremembered to sin
held as a breath
still blossoming there
shaded by seasons
restored us
from death
as memories held
to the heart
unaware

of colors
remaining
as dust off the fields
the taste of a name
on our tongue
is proof of another –
(sometimes to recall)
blooms on the path
from a dream
we become

. . .

as none we are ~

02 Tuesday Sep 2014

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

becoming, breath, connection, conscious consciousness, dreams, faith, fearless, gravel roads, knowledge, life, love, old maps, passion, reason, restless, silence, spirit, still, truth, understanding, wisdom, wonder

renewed

in moments
of remember
do you wonder
(as I do)
past the echo of the thunder –
past the fall

do you question
still to answer
someone said we might have been
too far (become)
so close
in letting go

to dream
our world (in places)
denied the curse of name
ascribed by stars
(as none we are)
when taken flight
again

of love
there is no
guessing
tis greater than our fears
(took my words)
before I knew
to speak

. . .

by other names ~

31 Sunday Aug 2014

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 12 Comments

Tags

becoming, bliss, cherokee, connection, conscious consciousness, destiny, dreams, faith, fearless, grace, knowledge, life, living, love, old maps, passion, poetry, restless, spirit, strength, truth, wandering, wisdom, woman, wonder

lifted

by other names
my heart is worn –
by other loves
the same

tho not as one
that held the wren
above the darkest storm

with not the fire
a northern trust
to flame
were stars revealed

of wonder
curved against my breast
this racing drum
to still

in places
I am older yet
than e’er these stories know

as one to sail
beyond the night –
with every letting go

. . .

hands and thieves ~

22 Friday Aug 2014

Posted by tornadoday in a time for telling, Poetry

≈ 18 Comments

Tags

bliss, connection, conscious consciousness, destiny, dreams, faith, family, fearless, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, living, love, memory, old maps, passion, poetry, reason, relationship, spirit, strength, truth, understanding, value, wandering, wonder

allIam

Not long ago, while visiting my parents, my mother and I were discussing a much needed painting as part of home renovations. We talked about the wallpaper I recently got rid of, and some she has hopes of retiring soon

Then, as now, I am reminded of the things that matter – that which we keep. I believe I commented, ‘the wallpaper isn’t bad but I’m not so endeared to it that I’d be hurt if you painted over’.

And yet, in retrospect, I realize there are other ‘things’ that I’ve been sentimental over at times, though the sentiment was tied to an associated memory rather than the physical. You’re probably struggling to understand, so let me give you some examples.

  • When I was eighteen years old, the house trailer we lived in when I was younger caught fire. It was rented at the time, and something on the stove got too close to something on the windows. Before anything could be done, it was too late. Mobile homes tend to be like Christmas trees; there’s not much waiting between flame and ash. I remember that we (my brother, sisters and parents) stood in the road and watched. We held hands, and I’m quite certain each of us cried. Though it was still just a ‘thing’, my mother commented on dresser drawers that bore my sister’s teething marks, and baseboards inscribed in crayon with my name (again and again). That which endeared the place to us wasn’t lost, and yet it was no longer a memory we could see.
  • When my parents moved from the park they owned, they found they couldn’t transfer the phone number to their new house because it was associated with the business. So, they got a new phone number. And I cried. Yesterday, even as I thought of this, I called the old number to see who would answer; as if some sixteen year old version of myself might pick-up. Since then, the area code has changed, but the affect wasn’t nearly as harsh.
  • My brother and sisters reminisce from time to time on an orange bathing suit our mother wore for as many years as we could remember, and a pair of plaid swim trunks daddy owned. Does it matter whether they were stylish? Does it matter where they are now? When I see a flower that color of orange, I feel it new, the same, deeply.

Easterners worn us of attachment, and I realize how easy it is to get tied into things that don’t matter, like the wallpaper design or whether you have the latest trend in ovens. For years, I bought clothes at upscale places. Now, I shop Goodwill, and savor the bargains. But deeper, I feel another association. My childhood is peppered with memories of trips to the ‘rag store’ (as my grandmother would call them), hiding under tables whenever she would cry out, ‘Bobbie, I found you some panties.’ 

That which we keep is that which becomes a part of us. It’s not a thing, and it’s not even a time. It’s a moment that exists still, as close as the scent of an orange honeysuckle, or in the feel of tags against my fingers.

It’s a favorite pair of earrings and words nearly worn thru.

When I started this piece, I thought on time. There are those who claim that I spend too much on the past. And yet, I would disagree. I spend my time (now) living and part of the joy in living is a love for how I got to this place. You see, despite what they say, time isn’t a thief. Time is your constant companion. When you are broken, it reminds you of the need to move forward. The real thieves are hatred, bitterness, resentment, and regret.  They take all you’ll give – health, relationships, and every bit of your joy they can get.

I’d make a lousy Buddhist.  I suspect part of the reason is that I’m a poet, and a keeper of stories (of the old ways). It’s not about ‘things’, but about everything, everything come of love.  Nothing matters; everything matters.

Someone near and dear reminds me that enlightenment is seeing things as they really are.  With time, I’ve come to revel in my wilderness….to linger softly with my tears,  to see with eyes (but more, with my soul).

May you cling warmly to the tender hands of time.

of another place
become of me –
has taken me to learn
e’en now my heart
grows full
beneath the weight
of blessings found
where I begin
to find my joys earned
a field beyond
my reaching
for the gate

. . .

but for another time ~

21 Thursday Aug 2014

Posted by tornadoday in a time for telling, Poetry, Rambling

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

bliss, breath, connection, death, dreams, faith, fearless, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, love, nature, old maps, passion, postmark, restless, spirit, star crossed, strength, understanding, wandering, wonder

Ihaveseenyouthere

he said
but for another time –
might I leave this world tonight
journey into dreams
and not look back
so certain
you would follow
in the traces left behind
picking up the pieces
I forgot
to let you know

she said
I thought I saw you
on the road just yesterday
standing in the shadows
with sunlight
in your eyes
cheated by the distance –
were those violets in your hand
I turned around
and all I found
were seeds

he said
the truth comes easy
but for times
I turned away
forsaking you the days
(for nights)
between
would that I had known you
before my story set
when all I had to give
was everything

she said
I’ll find my way again
down along the creek
of lessons –
still I wonder about you
someone said
of nothing lost –
a moment without breath

I believe as then
heaven holds
the breeze

. . .

of sorrows your loving would leave ~

20 Wednesday Aug 2014

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

becoming, connection, conscious consciousness, death, dreams, faith, fearless, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, living, love, memory, old maps, passion, poetry, reason, restless, self, soul touch, spirit, truth, understanding, value, wisdom

thestoryoflove

will the river
run dry
for a promise beholding
as secret these dreams
held aloft
by the stars
tell me their names
share me to story
of a moment –
eternity
here in your arms

of a place
in the wood
surrendered to blossom
come of a night
you held me
this way
warned me of sorrows
your loving
would leave me

remind me
again –
what of joy to repay

when all
that is left
is a reason for going
when the cool morning air
sits deep in my bones
beg me
remember
the sweet smell of autumn
if e’er I’ve forgotten
my way back
to home

. . .

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Poetic Thoughts

Benjamin Grossman

Starry-eyed Writer, Cautious Philosopher, Hopeful Romantic

Discover WordPress

A daily selection of the best content published on WordPress, collected for you by humans who love to read.

Walt's Writings

Poetry about Life, Love, Music by Walt Page, The Tennessee Poet

Silent Fingers

~ journey of a rose scented ink ~

houseofheartweb.wordpress.com/

ithoughtyouwerejoking.wordpress.com/

Exploring the epiphany

Seasonings

Just a little poetry...

Revelation

MyWorldsInWords

View my worlds

yelena's poetry

Now & Then

The fears of a girl, the heart of a woman, and everything inbetween...

Blonde in Flares

Flared and prepared.

Ziyaad poet

Just a cup of poetry and cookies

The Reluctant Poet

A Discovery of Enlightening Insights, Information, Humor, Writings and Musings

Dr. Eric Perry’s Blog

Motivate | Inspire | Uplift

Broken roads of Destiny

“Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.” — Maya Angelou

grandfathersky

Thoughts and feelings made into words about the world and times in which we live ...

Randomreasoning

Making a connection when everything is connected

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