“You Don’t Get To Choose If You Get Hurt In This World But You Do Have A Say In Who Hurts You.”

“He was silent for thirty seconds, maybe a minute. I uncrossed my legs under the table and wondered if this was the right moment to leave. It was as if my whole life revolved around trying to judge the right point in a conversation to say goodbye.”

Who gets your pillow talk? 

Your most honest and revealing conversations. The last words before sleep, or first ones in the morning while returning from the dream world. In those intimate moments, the most honest things can be expressed. 

As I shed my clothes from the day now behind me, I shed my layers with them. I shed my encounters with loved ones and strangers I met that day, my shared laughs, my real emotions. As I lay my head on the pillow that supports me and I cover my body in the blanket that protects me, embracing that feeling of warmth and security... truer words have never been spoken.

I'd sacrifice sleep for pillow talk. Give me a dose of your truth. Show me what's real. I can rest easy on the trust between two hearts, two mouths, and two overactive, perhaps over-sensitive imaginations.

Maybe we talked all day. Text, Calls, Facetime, Email, Twitter, Carrier Pigeon, Smoke Signals; it's possible to be connected in every moment and still at the end of the night we haven't had enough. Maybe it's just the sound of the other person's silence. Silence of understanding, interest, intrigue, comfort in just knowing you're there.

But I haven't been there. I haven't been there for you. I haven't asked how you've been. How your day went. What you had for lunch. What your first song was today when you turned on the radio and why you think "x" lyric resonates with your life. What you think about how when I asked for a sign that I heard your last name three times in one day. And how when I asked for another sign, someone unrelated to you but with your last name contacted me to ask me for a sign. True story. I haven't given away my pillow talk for a while now. I sacrificed my pillow talk for sleep. I sacrificed you for the ability to put my hand back on my heart and say "this is what's important". And say "this is not love".

I don't know how long I can do this, she said. I think The Universe has different plans for me. And we sat there in silence and I thought to myself that this is the thing we all come to and this is the thing we all fight and if we are lucky enough to lose, our lives become beautiful with mystery again. And I sat there in silence because that is not something that can be said.
StoryBookPeople

song of the day: Give Me Love: Ed Sheeran

“If The Only Prayer You Said Was Thank You, That Would Be Enough.”

“The sun is perfect and you woke this morning. You have enough language in your mouth to be understood. You have a name, and someone wants to call it. Five fingers on your hand and someone wants to hold it. If we just start there, every beautiful thing that has and will ever exist is possible. If we start there, everything, for a moment, is right in the world.”

__________

Two nights ago my friend and mentor Carmel taught me:
"You can't feel grateful and crappy at the same time" -- so it's important to take time each day to find something to be grateful for.

So that night we made gratitude beads. And a promise that each day, several times a day, we'd take a break from our work, obligations, and reality in general to reflect on the things we are grateful for; one statement for each bead. Challenging ourselves to find gratitude even in our most stressful of issues.

You may have seen posts on facebook, twitter, and our story in several news outlets about Buddy and Maddy.

Buddy, a 2 year old yellow lab, and Maddy an 8 month old bulldog, went missing on December 29th from their home on an acreage near Sherwood Park area. Buddy was supposed to be on bed rest waiting for his surgery to repair a torn ACL which was supposed to happen within a few days. Without anyone knowing, he pushed through the screen door and Maddy followed so they could play outside -- which is not uncommon. They have a huge yard to roam around in, but the strange part was when they did not return and could not be found. A huge team of family, friends, and volunteers searched the area. We trudged through knee high snow at all hours, combed the bushes, climbed through the river valley and even rappelled down cliffs. We hired trackers, pet detectives, animal professionals, who followed footprints and ruled out coyote attack or any other type of predator. We made and posted hundreds of missing posters throughout the city. In response we heard stories from people throughout Alberta and surrounding provinces about their dogs going missing. We even found just from the surrounding area in Edmonton that approximately 20 dogs went missing within a month without any clue. Stories of dogs being taken from their own yards, with theories of fighting rings, or stealing dogs to resell or breed them for money. You can imagine the worry, concern, and utter sick-to-our-stomach emotions hearing these stories and the days passing by without a sign of the pups.

Buddy belongs to 12 year old Keghan. Keghan and Buddy are joined at the hip, everywhere Keghan goes, Buddy follows. Buddy could be with 20 people petting him and rubbing his belly but the moment Keghan gets up, he's with him. This summer Keghan fell off his bike and injured himself very badly. Buddy stayed with him the entire time, licking his hand as if to say "you're not alone". The paramedics even had to pry Buddy off of Keghan when the ambulance came. Keghan and Buddy go everywhere together and even sleep in the same bed at night. Since Buddy has been gone, Keghan has been sleeping on the couch and gazing through the window hoping his dog will run up the driveway at any moment and come back home. I've never seen a dog love anyone more than Buddy loves Keghan.

When Keghan was 4 years old, he had a dog just like Buddy, a golden lab named Tucker. His best friend. Animal lovers can understand the bond between a boy and his dog, there's nothing like it. One day when Keghan was going outside to play, Tucker ran with him right out the door and into oncoming traffic. Keghan helplessly stood and watched his dog get hit by a car. This experience haunted him for years. When he was ten, the family, during a very emotional conversation, realized the burden Keghan was still carrying from this event and the nightmares he still had. He had been asking for another yellow lab, but it wasn't until the family realized this that they agreed, and that's when they got Buddy. When the two met, the connection was instant. It was as though Tucker was reincarnated through Buddy. Buddy's full name is actually Tucker's Buddy, and his arrival in Keghan's life is what healed him from that traumatic incident when he was a child. Losing Buddy was like experiencing it all over again.

Last night we got a call from a woman who told us Buddy was in her front yard. She called his name and he ran toward her but unfortunately when they were close enough for her to touch him, he got startled and ran away. Quickly there was a team of volunteers searching the area and calling out for Buddy. And because of what happened last night, I now have more to add to my list of things to be grateful for:

I am grateful that we now know Buddy is alive. In addition, I'm grateful that the woman who spotted him in her yard was unable to catch him, because if we hadn't continued our search, we would not have met the other woman that said "No, I haven't seen a stray yellow lab in the area, just a stray little bulldog" - MADDY! At this point we weren't sure if Maddy could make it through these past 3 weeks but now we are so grateful to know they're both alive and that we're so close. Most importantly I'm grateful that very soon I get to witness Keghan's face light up when he is reunited with his best friend in the world.

Today is our miracle day. Today they come home.

With gratitude,

Marley

Song Of The Day: I Just Want You To Know - Backstreet Boys

“A Part Of Kindness Consists In Loving People More Than They Deserve.”

When I am impatient, I know it's because I don't want to take the time to learn the lesson at hand. I want it done now. Or as I once heard: Instant gratification is not soon enough. There is always something to know. Patience is being at peace with the process of life, knowing that everything happens in the perfect time/space sequence. I'm not having completion now, then there is something more for me to know or do. Being impatient doesn't speed up the process; it only wastes time. So breathe, go within, and ask: "What is it I need to know?" Then patiently wait to receive the help that is all around you.

Affirm: All is well. I have everything I need now.
Louise Hay

_______

My car is an instrument of The Universe.

It’s my place of reflection. My place to sing or cry my heart out in safety. My little sanctuary on wheels. I’ve noticed and really acknowledged lately that everything is a mirror for what I need to recognize in myself. Everything.

My relationships with others - their attitudes being a reflection of something going on within myself. A quick judgement of their self and an even quicker realization that what I recognize in them is actually something in me.
My body signals - for example, my recurrent throat issues. Sore throat. Strep throat. Laryngitis. Bronchitis. And as I’m sure you can agree… ain’t nobody got time for that. My body is pointing out my need for expression.

My car mechanisms. 

Two days before I moved from Toronto back to Edmonton, I was offered a job. An amazing job. A travel-the-world-and-meet-incredible-people job. Voice inside said “this is a test”. The whole 5 hours on the plane to Edmonton and about three weeks following, were overflowing with anxiety. Am I staying or going? To be completely honest, I had no idea what I was going to do in Edmonton. I blindly followed my intuition back home, knowing I'd be provided for once I planted my feet. Apparently my little vehicle recognized and reflected the struggle. It was in perfect working condition, just checked and inspected in top shape. Within two weeks, things started to go. First, my signals. My windshield washer pump. The locks on the driver door, followed by the locks on the passenger door.

My signals wouldn’t turn on at all. Just as I didn’t know if I was staying or going, I couldn’t tell people on the road along my path which direction I was going. Staying in Edmonton, or returning to Toronto. I waited it out. I did the inner work. I calmed down and allowed opportunities to come. After three weeks, my dream job opportunity appeared miraculously in front of me and shortly after I accepted the position… boom. They started working again. Such a relief, because I was not prepared to spend the $1400 to fix it.

My broken windshield washer pump meant that I couldn't clear my windshield. If things got messy, the washer fluid would sputter out, not even close to hitting the screen. I couldn't always see clearly ahead of me on my path. Or perhaps there were things I was not seeing or not willing to see.
Next, my locks. I had to unlock the passenger door with the key first before I could walk around to the driver door and let myself in. Really going out of my way to let myself into my own vehicle. Sometimes the driver door still wouldn't work and I'd have to crawl through the passenger door to get in. Annoying. And not ideal. I locked myself in and out of my car occasionally. Security. Safety. Not letting anyone in, including myself. This was happening at the same time that I was testing the waters of the dating pool. I've met truly great guys, absolute gentlemen. But it didn't feel right. I wasn't fully present. This was also around the same time that I admitted to myself that I had been denying my grieving process when I lost my cousin and best friend. I think it was the day after I had acknowledged my grief and that I wasn't in a position to date, that a mechanic friend contacted me and fixed all of my car problems. In addition he installed remote locks for free! Bonus! The Universe delivered bigger and better :)

A belief system I newly hold is that I can solve all of my problems with inner work. I don’t need to say a thing. An obstacle is presented and I believe it’s possible to overcome it without saying a word. Sometimes it’s the inner dialogue that is necessary to remove blockages and fix your flow. Not always the case, but it definitely helps to develop the path of least resistance.

This past weekend I was heading out to a friend’s place. I had been struggling with a personal decision for a long time and asking the Universe for a sign. As I mentioned, my car is often my sanctuary on wheels. If I’m not singing my heart out, sometimes the music is completely off and I drive around, talking things out.
Give me a sign. Tell me what to do.
Boom. My signal breaks again. It had been months of it working despite not having a mechanic touching it, and in that same moment I asked for a sign, my left signal broke. This time I could still use the signals, but my left one was constantly on. I said out loud “What the heck does that mean? If this is a sign, show me another one”. Seconds later the signal started to work again. And my iPod on shuffle started to play my meditation tracks one after another. On shuffle. With 300+ songs. I kept flipping through them. I got through almost 10 tracks in a row of meditation tracks until it went back to a song. It landed on “Again – NeedToBreathe”. Asking for more, I went to the next song “Last Straw- Jack’s Mannequin”. Songs that confirmed that I needed to take action by stepping away. My closest friends know that I often ask my iPod to show me a song that will give me a sign or advice towards a certain issue. I love you, friends, who ask what my song of the day is J.

So here I am, certain I’m communicating with a higher source right now. I expressed thanks and gratitude for being present and acknowledged the signs but… my left signal gets stuck again. And stayed stuck on left for 3 days. I'm certain that this problem remained because it knew that just giving me a sign wouldn't do it, I needed the constant reminder to actually take action: “Do the RIGHT thing”.

On Sunday night I got down to it. I reluctantly confronted a symbolical mirror I needed to break. An issue I saw in someone else that revealed itself to me as being an issue in myself. It sucked. I cried. I yelled. I ached. And the healing process began. Monday morning on my way to work. Boom. My signal lovingly said “thanks for your time!” and started working again. So thanks Universe. I get it.

Song of the day: Wicked Games - The Weekend

You're Here. You Matter. Enough Said.

When you are small like a teacup
it seems everyone has heavy hands.
But cracks give us character:
we can keep memories in the fractures
which would otherwise slide away.
I have learned to be unafraid of breaking,
and I hope you will do the same

___________

Oh my god. What have I done? -- The first thoughts after pressing "publish" on yesterday's post. Am I really back? Can I do this? Am I ready to be honest and personal and open to literally anyone in the world that has internet connection?

That's when my best friend and conscience, Roma, reminded me: "Your blog was so real when you did it for yourself. So raw, and that's why I love it. As long as you remember why you write, you won't forget how you write."

I lost sight of that. When I started the blog it was 100% for myself and my expression. If people happen to read it and enjoy it... Bonus. Lovely. Awesome. I continue with that intention.

What made me become guarded and secretive of my life? Astrology would tell me it's because I'm a Scorpio. Perhaps this is true. Perhaps my planets weren't aligned, perhaps Mercury was in retrograde. Perhaps I needed time to breathe and heal and find my feet on my own without expressing it to the world. But I also have a grand trine in my chart, so things usually happen with ease and people are eagerly willing to lend a hand. Do you understand my astrology references? Me neither, hardly.

A mentor of mine told me yesterday that with life in general, I will not be lied to unless I am lying to myself. Ponder that. Everything is a mirror. This same woman, during a long period of silence while working, looked up at me and said very gently: "God is not the author of fear, you are." No other words. Just that. I love those moments.

Anything that hurts, that you have to heal from, that you forgive... fuels a poem. Creates beauty.

You don't have to take everything so seriously,

Marley

Next Time Someone Wants To Fit You Into A Mold, Tell Them That Your Jeans Are In The Wash, Your Angel's At The Mall, And Oprah's On The Other Line

The year of letting go, of understanding loss. Grace. Of the word ‘no’ and also being able to say ‘you are not kind’. The year of humanity/humility. When the whole world couldn’t get out of bed. Everyone I’ve met this year says the same thing ‘you are so easy to be around, how do you do that?’. The year I broke open and dug out all the rot with my own hands. The year I learned small talk. And how to smile at strangers. The year I understood that I am my best when I reach out and ask ‘do you want to be my friend?’. The year of sugar, everywhere. Softness. Sweetness. Honey honey. The year of being alone, and learning how much I like it. The year of hugging people I don’t know, because I want to know them. The year I made peace and love, right here.

________

A colleague yesterday asked me “Where are you?”. And something about that question really touched me. I haven’t gotten over it yet. Hearing that genuine and heartfelt question from across the table of “where is your head at right now?” just really moved something in me. Where am I?

I didn’t even realize it at the time that I was on a rollercoaster. But I’m out of the amusement park now. And I’m back. So where do we start? It’s almost like when you run into someone you went to school with eons ago and they’re like “Hey what’s new?” and you’re like “Oh I don’t know, everything!”. 

The things I've learned in the last year:

Transformation. How to transmute lead into gold. How to say no. How to say "you are not kind". How to say "this is not love". How to take my hand away from everything demanding it, put it back on my heart and say “this is what’s important”. How to exceed and ignore expectations at the same time.

Since I’ve been gone from BrightLightsBlog...

I moved back to Edmonton. It was scary, but life is a little scary even if you don’t jump off a cliff every once in a while. There’s always a higher cliff. It turned out to be the best decision of my life. Reunited with my family, and most importantly, myself. I found my dream job -- by the way, my words and blogs do not reflect the views of my employer and yaddayaddayadda. I found a spiritual community that keeps me safe. I grieved. I grieved some more. I thought I was done grieving and found myself crying to my boss at work about how I hadn’t even started to grieve and then began grief counseling. Ha. That was a good day for our bonding. Truly, he’s a good man and was a good listener that day. I so appreciate him. I met some soulmates. Please know I use the term soul mate pretty loosely. Ask me about my twin flame though, weeeeoooo love love love. I met mentors that love and support me unconditionally and have shown me a whole new world. I healed myself: mind body and spirit. I learned how to use my intuition, to create and manifest miracles, and then how to teach others to do the same. And I think that’s where I’m at now. Teaching and sharing miracles.

So I think I’m back. Lots of signs led me back to BrightLights. Past readers and even people I didn't know (so cool!) asked "when is BrightLights coming back?". Don’t get me wrong, I never stopped writing, in fact I don’t miss a day without journalling either first thing in the morning or last thing before bed… it’s just that I stopped publishing. If I’m going to write I want to be honest. More honest than I should be, more often than I should be. I’ll shed my layers. I’ll let you in. Will I continue writing every day? I don’t know. I don’t always know if I’ll wake up the next morning… but when I want to, I usually do ;)

I got you babe,

Marley

You Are A Mystery I Promise I Will Never Try To Solve

We were the letters sent to the wrong address and opened anyway. We opened anyway.

I've been pulling out my pieces one by one. A combination of wobbling, anticipating crumbling, but ultimately finding my new balance. I always hated the game of Jenga, but apparently it's one of those things I keep coming back to. There are always those things, places, or even people that, despite your best intentions, you keep coming back to. The ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline no matter how many times it's sent away. 


My throat has been sore for days and regardless of what science and swab procedures might determine, I've always looked at my physical disease coming to be from emotional manifestation. At this point, I've been pondering if my body is telling me I need to spend more time listening, and therefore stifling my ability to speak - or if the fight between my head and my heart has lodged itself in-between until further notice.


The bad news: There is no key to the universe
The good news: It was never locked.

Ask Me Where I'm Going -- Who Knows? Ahead.

Whatever relationships you have attracted in your life at this moment, are precisely the ones you need in your life at this moment. There is a hidden meaning behind all events, and this hidden meaning is serving your own evolution.
-Deepak Chopra

The universe is a funny thing. It works exactly how you need it to, even if you don't know how you need it to. It makes you learn things the hard way. I've been given the opportunity to re-evaluate what's important in my life; Realign my priorities with my actions.

I've incorporated a rule into my life that I've followed quite strictly. It has been a rule of balance. Three facets of life: Family, Friends, Work. I've followed this rule quite diligently, always careful not to let one get ahead of the other, and when one seemed to fall behind, sacrifice the time of the other two to make sure the weaker becomes strong again. The results have been astounding. I feel confident calling myself Daughter, Sister, Niece, Cousin, Girlfriend, Best Friend, Leader, Follower, Teacher, Student. I've given myself close to no chance to mess this up. Always staying on track. Focused. Determined. Assertive. Attentive. And  very, very passionate. Even in the last while, I've learned so much. Knowing when to listen, when to not, when to put my foot down, and when to give a bit more.

Along the way, there was one minor oversight... Me. While I was busy being a daughter to my mother, a friend to my buddies, turning point to my business, I forgot to be me to myself. Don't get me wrong, the system would never work if I didn't have my head on my shoulders. It's much more simple than that.

I know how shallow the water is. Why are we still diving then? Can't blame a fool for trying? You sure can!!! Hold your head up high, it's the last living sign of any sort of confidence. Hands up if you can't feel the bottom yet! Sometimes the mistakes we make in life aren't really mistakes. The universe gives you a kick in the pants when you have ignored and resisted every push it had already attempted to give you in the right direction. There are better things ahead than any we leave behind. Best to make those steps before the universe decides to break your leg.

There's no such thing as running away from your problems. They will follow you no matter the distance. You take your heart with you wherever you go and taking it to a prettier environment won't make it ache any less. I remained in place. I healed. I reached out. Tied up loose ends. Toronto holds such a special place in my heart. Purpose served. Paid in full. Goals achieved and belief systems created. I hope the mentors in my life realize how much I appreciate them for helping me to get where I am now: in service. I can't stop smiling. Thank you universe.

Thank you, more please.

I Have Little Tolerance For Love That Is Conditional

All you need is love plus an instruction manual for what to do with it once you've found it.


As long as I keep running about asking: “Do you love me? Do you really love me?” I give all power to the voices of the world and put myself in bondage because the world is filled with “ifs.” The world says: “Yes, I love you if you are good-looking, intelligent, and wealthy. I love you if you have a good education, a good job, and good connections. I love you if you produce much, sell much, and buy much.” There are endless “ifs” hidden in the world’s love. These “ifs” enslave me, since it is impossible to respond adequately to all of them. The world’s love is and always will be conditional.

I Figure If A Girl Wants To Be A Legend She Should Just Go Ahead And Be One

“We are the girls with anxiety disorders, filled appointment books, five-year plans. We take ourselves very, very seriously. We are the peacemakers, the do-gooders, the givers, the savers. We are on time, overly prepared, well read, and witty, intellectually curious, always moving… We pride ourselves on getting as little sleep as possible and thrive on self-deprivation. We drink coffee, a lot of it. We are on birth control, Prozac, and multivitamins… We are relentless, judgmental with ourselves, and forgiving to others. We are the daughters of the feminists who said, “You can be anything,” and we heard,
“You have to be everything.””

-Courtney Martin

What It Feels Like When Your Heart Grows Back

If you're tired of trying to fall asleep, sleep on it and try again tomorrow.

If you're all out of promises, I have one left for you: The Earth is still here as long as you're alive.

If you want to yell out your frustrations, I'll understand, just understand that the whole world is screaming, mostly complaining about the noise.

If you're worried about having the poetry knocked out of you of you when you're older, don't. Old blood bleeds as good as new.

If you've got nothing left to feel, just pay the bill and walk away.

If there's anything else, let me know.

I wrote this for you

A Broken Staircase With Fresh Paint

I said to the sun "tell me about the Big Bang".

The sun said: "It hurts to become".

I carried that hurt on the tip of my tongue

and whisper "Bless your heart" every chance I get

so my family tree can be sure I have not left.

You do not have to leave to arrive, I am learning this slowly

Sometimes when I look in the mirror 

my eyes look like the holes in the shoes of the shoe-shine man.

Some days my hands are busy on the wrong thing

Some days I call my arms wings 

while my head is in the clouds

It will take me a few more years to learn flying is not pushing away the ground.

But safety isn't always safe, 

you can find one in every gun

I am aiming to do better

I am more honest than I should be more often than I should be. I am an open book and some things you can't change. I have always been a writer. It's time I start writing some of this open book in invisible ink. So that only the few that care to look close enough will put me under their ultraviolet light to decode what I'm trying to say. I can no longer go out of my way to try to explain myself. Because what I'm trying to say is, there are things I want to say in a language I do not yet know how to speak.

I am waiting. And while I'm waiting I am learning. This sense of impending something weighs heavy on my shoulders these days. Some days very strongly on my heart. Overwhelmed with change and new information. I have left some of my main commitments, given a large portion of my things away, said goodbye (see you later) to people, absolute sweethearts really, whom I have invested my heart and soul in. Because I have just recently realized how much I have been carrying over the last few years and realizing that my arms can only hold so much. I am learning how not to take on others' contagious emotions if they are the ones that drain me. I am learning how to navigate through obstacle courses of communication. I am learning to heal, protect and recharge. I am learning I cannot give infinitely, no matter how much I really desperately and passionately try to fight that fact. The hardest thing I am learning how to do is to sleep. Discipline. So many ideas, so much work, and really... so little time. The best ideas are the ones that keep you up. I have been up. Consistently. For a long time. There are not nearly enough hours in the night. I could use another eight, easily.

I like the open-endedness of "what could go wrong" plus the fact that there's only one way to find out...

Not All Of These Memories Are Great, But They're Mine

I thought about my life. About my life, the embarrassments, the little coincidences, the shadows of alarm clocks on bedside tables...
"You've lost everything" she said, as if we were sharing a secret, "I can see". If I'd been someone else in a different world, I'd've done something different. But I was myself and the world was the world, so I was silent.


Modern medicine will not do. It doesn't heal the way ink bleeding from a pen would. I've also been so distracted and disoriented that I've completely forgotten about "mind over matter". With this, and the fact that it took a whole month and three doctors to diagnose my respiratory infection... I could have been healed and healthy by now. But I smile wondering if it is some special form of empathy. I skipped Christmas dinner and spent it cuddling with my grandmother in her hospital bed, both of us coughing and having heart palpitations. Both for different reasons. She told me stories of the "old days" and the secret to a successful marriage. And her bread recipe.

This city is so full of reminders, memories that lurk and mug me. December 27, 2011 changed my life. I will work hard to remember exactly who I was on that day. How inspired I felt, and how I am closer than ever to KG. I admit I struggled. I couldn't ignore the one-less place setting this year. The bench at the end of the table we used to share. It was tight but I never needed space between us. The lack of words and photographs, in fear of bringing sadness to the room. We all felt it, tears on the verge of spilling down our faces while taking notice of the empty space. Our thoughts thinking themselves so loudly, yet none of us say a thing. 


When we were kids we had our own special place at the farm: the wishing rock. To us it was really a boulder. Maybe it wasn't that big, but everything seems so huge when you're so little. We climbed up on that rock and in our little sundresses, closed our little eyes, held our little hands together and wished with all our might. 

I'd take back all those wishes.

Merry Christmas Kylen Groeneveld. Two months without you. Here's to beauty and strength. Run the land, darling girl. Love you forever.

We laughed and laughed, together and separately, out loud and silently. We were determined to ignore whatever needed to be ignored. To build a new world from nothing if nothing in our world could be salvaged. It was one of the best days of my life. A day during which I lived my life and didn't think about my life at all.

The Only Remedy For Love Is To Love More

“So yes, I laughed. I laughed at the pain and the futility and the frustration and the heartache to keep it separate from me. And while it may seem like insanity to you, it is the thing that prevents it, for me.”


I believe in following your heart no matter where it leads you. It knows what you don’t ever want to admit and there will be times that every fiber of your being will disagree.  Those fibers will be wrong and they will steal the perfect and untarnished beauty of making perfect choices that just might be perfect risks and catastrophic failures. That being comfortable in the skin you’ve worn since the first moment you shouted your life started is the only way to make it through all we’re supposed to make it through. That all we really are is what we imagine we are, be it brave be it bold be it covered in the ash of burned dreams or watered down and drowned with the waves of uncertainty and fear, we are what we imagine so we need to let those imaginations loose to create the very best version of ourselves.


I believe in long letters and handwritten notes no matter how sloppy the handwriting may be, how wrinkled the paper and how much ink ends up on the sides of your palm that rests atop it. Words are some of the most valuable currency and should be spent wisely and on what matters the most to our silly lives. The construction of a sentence can be done by anyone anywhere for any reason but the construction of an emotion with the very same consonants and vowels requires the blood of the writer, not the ink of the pen, to stain the pages in a way that will move the eyes that read it.


I believe in myself and that I hold the dust of stars in the veins that carry the blood that carries the strength to pull me out of bed each morning.  That I am capable of all things but most of all that I have an infinite capacity for love and for giving that love away freely, no matter how it is returned or how little I receive back. That I give to give and getting will always be a bonus, a lottery I never intended on winning.  That I am capable of enduring such great pain but am also capable of embracing such haunting joy. I believe that I will never stop and never give up and never let go and never forget how to find the miracle in all this mundane and the eye of the storm and the silver in the lining and the half full in the cup no matter how shattered that cup might be, no matter how many pieces it rests as on the floor and how many cuts it caused on my hands that held it.

-tylerknott

Tonight I Can Write The Saddest Lines

“But listen to me. For one moment quit being sad. Hear blessings dropping their blossoms around you.”

Sometimes when I cannot sleep, I listen to Andy Garcia reading poetry by Pablo Neruda on repeat. I drift off to the dreamlodge and wake up hours later; Andy Garcia still reading. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

I ask myself daily, where do we go from here? Perhaps it's not wrong to have asked myself this daily even before the tragedy. Always wondering what the next step is. What's the next big move? If I am at A, where is B? And what is the exact distance? Andy Garcia still reciting Neruda's lines while I'm in a mid-sleep haze. How could one not have loved her great still eyes

Sometimes not being okay is okay. We set expectations and we break our own hearts. I am guilty of this. To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her. I am content. I dream and I fantasize and I pray. There are things I want, but not things that I need. I am content with waiting as long as completely necessary, I am content with working as hard as humanly possible

Kylen had given me a collection of Pablo Neruda's poems. One of my last gifts from her. A framed painting she made, Neruda's poems, and a book of short stories titled "No One Belongs Here More Than You". You can imagine the ache felt deep in my core when I found that book beside my bed the day after she left us. The words in the title were the words I repeated in my mind for days. What does it matter that my love could not keep her?

Life really blindsides you, doesn't it? With the intent to completely shatter and break you. To see if you have the strength to put yourself back together. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. What a cycle: on top of the world one day and not wanting to get out of bed the next.

Months ago I wrote a piece about the stories my body parts will tell long after I've expired. The scars and marks and transformations my body experienced over the years would lead one to predict the life I lived. Oh how little I knew about losing pieces of my heart. Not just observing the cracks in this thing between my lungs, but the pieces broken off and forever gone. Oh how little I knew.

I havent yet caught up with my life. It moves much faster than I do these days. My habits are starting to catch up with me though, as I found myself this morning in coughing fits, unable to get out of bed. Leaving raspy voicemail messages for the people I should have seen today.

There are many things to be grateful for. My colleagues who feel my forehead and endearingly tell me to get the hell out of the office when I do stroll into work because staying home is too boring. Friends that bring me soup. Friends that bring me frozen soup for when they're unavailable to bring more the next day. Waking up to messages expressing hope that I'm sleeping and not scared. 

My biggest challenge lately: Sleeping. Not being Scared.

Love is so short, forgetting is so long