Soul renewal

Looking upward into the burning ball
above me,
I cannot help but notice the
sky trails weaving an
Marks the spot.
No matter the bitters we have been spitting,
when it comes down to it.
As the pushing and shoving
takes front and center
to the love,
pains and strains
lead to breaks.
My own breakage left me addled
and shook up.
The toils I gathered became
binding chains instead
of the
reign of love
I wished for.
So, I wake, feeling my soul renewed.
A freshness that reminds me
of grass with its early morning dew.
Letting go to let in
the light.
A thundering bolt of color
that is twisting around the coils
of my injured self.
Releasing the slashes of yesteryear.
Trusting the now clear voice of my
The Father who patiently waited
while around my universe I skated.
Crumbling bricks of misshapen masonry.
Built up better, stronger,
Shining with the flecks of a glittering
God head.
A new head of my household.

Golden Rules. Part A from K

Been re-reading a  book, something to do with some commandments. I like the jacket cover, it fits the Fall I feel coming and starting to even like again.

(Author: Marian Linger)  Oh, the pleasure of reading it once again, knowing how my heart feels, it is so relatable.

As usual, when first opening a book, a reference book most likely, I will go to where led.  A non- fiction will get the first page though.  The words I needed a few days back had to do with just that; words.

The power of words.

That day and since, I’ve been catching up on the book, doing ah ha’s and Wishing.


The Power of Names and Words

“Words create images in our minds.  A name may create a mental image and a feeling.  However, we’re often unaware of just how intensely names and words affect our daily reality, let alone our spirituality.”

In my case when it comes to names; MJ put some lovely letters together to create my name.  I had such a fabulous, mystical time putting forever labels on my Sons. I can be grateful to her for that, oh yes I can, can!!

Five times I planted my hefty self onto the rocking chair, well more than five times, gee, get it right woman! What I meant to say,  is that during the pregnancies,  carrying a new Soul, five times.   During each of those special times, I planted my huge, overwhelmingly waddle-some body into the rocking chair to meditate, pray, speak, whatever we may choose to call it.  (I call it praying now, them days, oh no, it was meditating, haha), rubbing my hard as a tortoise shell belly, cause them babes were at full attention, right along with me in the naming of! Always alone,  drifting off, swaying up and back, slow and steady in that wooden chair I would wait quietly. However long it took, (more than one rocking session was needed on occasion.) when it came time to name my little riders I instinctively wanted their input.  In my dark mind, letters would sort of scoot across the canvas, sort of like in a power point presentation. Which at that time, um, I did not even know what that was!

Each of them helped in the decision is what I know.

As a young girl with my dreamy fantasies, I had chosen my first two names …I was gonna do my thing and have two babies, to include a boy and a girl. Right. I can chuckle now at my thoughts then….whew….only slightly different now.

Shawn Michael and Shana Marie.

But wait now…My first younger….gee, even with my own little mind made up, he let me know what was up.  Subtly.  As we were rocking, and again, I would be rocking my belly, then once in a while,  I would pray that I didn’t have a red headed baby.  Now hang on, don’t jump on me yet.  My mothers’ people are rampant with the red heads, my sibling, (Hi!!) has a gorgeous color of auburn coming out of her head! The father of my Son had a dirty blonde/brownish thing going with his hair color.  Mine was a major mixture of red, brown, blonde, possibly even orange (as one hair dresser told me of my natural color, back then) (Hello, I’m soon 50 here, its color me up days) , anyhoo….I would  say “Please dear God, don’t let me have a red headed baby.” Not because of the red  hair color  or anything about that….it was because I wanted to save my child from the misery of being teased and bullied because he was different.  Like my sister.

So, my baby and I prayed and it was declared Shawn Michael he would stay called.  After all, wasn’t there a reason I already had that name?  Or perhaps it fits the Irish blood I think we have running through us? On the other hand, was it because I made that silly prayer and the Universe instead heard me say “Please let me have a red headed baby”?  Hhhmmm, I wonder.

When he popped out, pretty orange from head to toe, that glorious golden red hair shined at me. He shined at me. As it turns out, this 31 year old, tall drink of water fits perfectly his chosen name.

My second Son tells me every time we speak of the whole name naming and the fact that he won out and got to be called his given name.  It was going to be Shane (variation of Shana, did you notice?) Then we hit the rocking chair after Shane got used by another family with child that was close to our family at the time. It was quick to come to me…as it turns out, this strong and intense, gorgeous blue eyed Soul has a great sounding moniker that fits him very well.  His birth name is strong when you add all three together. Very nice.

Three other Sons were born to me, close to 10 years later.  Rocking chair, big Mama and quiet times led to three more amazing names….each name I have noticed casually, are very old…

I wanted to speak more on Words and the power they have…..


“As the aphorism rightly says, “The pen is mightier than the sword.”  Our ancestors were aware of the truth of word power.  In magick and life, they chose their words carefully. Whole languages developed around key issues in a representative culture, and the feelings of that people toward those issues.  Additionally, stories from around the world illustrate a strong belief in the power of words.  Consider:

***In the Bible, God speaks all things into existence.

***The Egyptian god Ptah utters words of manifestation to bring the Universe (and Egyptians called their written language the speech of the Gods).

***In Greco-Egyptian magical papri, the names of non-Greek and non-Egyptian deities are invoked, as well as long strings of vowel sounds.  Historians feel these may have served a purpose similar to the Indian mantra, namely to transport the chanter into an extraordinary state of being or to impart power and energy to the magickal spell or ritual.

***Samurai warriors used a kiai (shout of power) to focus themselves and direct their intention before battle.

***The bard or troubadour of the Middle Ages used the emotional power of words (in song and poetry) to sway people either to help with a political or social cause, or to increase the amount of money received for a performance.

In my world, words, whether spoken, read or heard, has alwaze and will alwaze have a profound effect on me.  We spit things out so quickly, a lot of times in anger, or  hear words on a television off in a corner, going for reasons un known but that can send our mood on a wild roller coaster ride.  The music we listen too, the list goes on and on. If we think for one little moment that our words aren’t powerful.  Look at the bullying running rampant in our country….too many times a younger hears how ugly she is or the little boy being taunted over his red hair…or, or, or….then a young man of 18 takes his own life after hearing words that caused his heart to feel shame.  A stupid rumor causes a gentlemen to lose his job which in turn leads to a divorce and his family is ripped apart.  However the case, our cavalier attitude to what we let ourselves be influenced by as far as media, and all the other oulpours of crud goes, is causing us great damage.  Consistently.  And we seem to be oblivious to it.

Most recently, my ears have been assaulted and I am not exaggerating when I choose that word.  My trine gets deeply wounded by misguided anger and fears of others.  And we all must work it out.  Alas, most of us choose not to grow and figure out our own yellow brick roads of happiness.  I use the yellow brick road to skip along in my mind, singing, ***lalalalala***silly songs of glee….it’s a sunshine day comes to mind right now)  I am still skipping at least.  I am grateful for this. Truly.

If we can do one thing this day, if I can do one thing this day, I choose to utter words, think words, choose my mind diet wisely, and be better for it.

Moments in my madness

Getting to spend time with my youngest youngers, with a pop over visit from an older of my youngers! was heart warming and info ridden.

I don’t get much time with my boy/mens these days, it’s that age and I get it but I cannot help but think about how every second of my life, pretty much, was wrapped tightly around them. Now they are off into the days and nights with the reckless abandon that young ones get to do! Which I dig and don’t. I can’t help that this is a hurtful thing right now. The saddest part is that I’ve been trying to get through this fact that the offspring will be leaving this cocoon soon, by about 2 years now. Still the thought of it all is a bit overwhelming.

What happens when everything you know changes? Like with a death that you thought could never happen to you, a divorce, children leaving? You just get goin. Hopefully, as I so blessedly did, there are people around you who care deeply and will do anything to help set you right.

At least this time I did, this tragedy that shook my world so I thought I could feel my womb splitting. The massive love of three new grand-babies in three years did it too:-)Usually, I am alone and struggling with whatever life issues I may be facing. Lets see, cancer, abusive men, uncaring fathers, no father, no family that really gave two shits.

I was reminded of that, harshly and heart wrenchingly so when I had to visit the courthouse with my son just a few days back. Driving there, no problem, when I arrive on foot and stare up at that building where so much of mine and my son’s lives played out, I just shiver. Bravely I try to hide the ugliness that tries to take over so I  then instead,  write in my journal. Years of battle raged, waged over us…eeeww, it was horrible and soul sucking.

Then I thought back to the other court-house I had to hang out recently also. Where my first divorce took place at 21 yrs old. Alone, facing a soon to be ex husband that for sure didnt’ want me going anywhere.

Anyway, what I guess I am trying to say is, when my precious boys do decide it’s time to leave, the last of my amazing five sons, I will face it alone. Journaling and fighting the beast that continually tries to bite at us. Difference is,  I feel like I am going to have the time of my life in my winter years!

Bring it on.

Some words

 “We all know well that a collection of lies, deceptions, half-truths, fear, and cynical manipulation are what passes for a soul in many politicians” 
This quote makes a fine description for some of the people I’ve had in my life…This middle aged woman is figuring out that people really do suck. mean or not, people suck…
This has been quite an upheaval, learning all this truth. But helpful in my growth and I am okay with that…Not gonna lie, there is hurt…But, I will say this again, my boys, my angels, have saved my life again. When things feel a tad hopeless, and I can’t sleep for 5 nights straight, my babies come to my rescue.
I know the true meaning of love, and am saddened to find out the truth…most of us have no clue.

I don’t think I like Fridays.

This morning is tough, My chest feels like it is being crushed, something that started the moment I heard of my baby.  My days have been filled with I am not sure what but the hours pass.  Thank the Gods for my boys, if they werent’ here, I don’t think I could be breathing right now.
I have been going through all the keepers of my boys, you know, school work, pretty little things they made for me, report cards, awards…and if I don’t think to my self…he was a happy boy, why, why, why?…I am thrilled to look at this stuff again and have the bright and beautiful memories that I do.
I miss my baby.