Let Every Moment be a Song

Let every moment be a song from your heart

This is a song without an end, without a start
Let every moment be a song from your heart,
Boom badoomboom boom badoomboom boom
With each beat of your heart may you feel loved
With each beat may you shine out that love
With each beat may you share it up above
and below and out and in
and out
Let every moment be a song from your heart
It doesn’t have to loud or smart
Let every moment be an expression of peace
Peace in your heart is where peace always starts
How far your peace will go, nobody knows
I hope your peace comes back to you
I hope you can feel my peace too
With each breath may you feel blessed
Each moment may you feel loved, at peace, and blessed
One day we’ll pass away
Where we’ll go nobody knows
When that time comes, may we rest
Until then, may you feel your heart overflow with love and peace
May you share it with those you know
and those you haven’t met
When we die, we will leave our bodies behind
Perhaps we will be able to bring peace and love with us, though we will have no pockets or hands
I practice love and peace in my life
Though I forget sometimes that I am love, I remember again
My life is more sacred than I know, made more precious by inevitable death
May every moment be a song of love from my heart
May my inner peace be a light in the dark
May your song fill you with joy
If it doesn’t, change your song
We all sing along on the one and only stage of life

Alice in Recoveryland

Alice had her heart broken

When she was quite small
And healing a broken heart
Isn’t easy at all
So she drank
To forget it all
But she couldn’t forget,
Even when she felt tall
In fact, the more she drank
The more she felt like she was falling
And falling…
Until- kerplunk!
She hit rock bottom, landed on her badunk
She had no where to go but up
But getting up is hard when you are on your badunk
Though Alice was hurting, she was also incredibly strong
So she climbed and she climbed, though her journey was long
To this day, she is climbing still
She is higher than she ever felt when she was looking out over windowsills
In towers guarded by grumpy ogreish men
Alice is a survivor, and she’d survive it all again
Her heart may have been broken,
But it never stopped beating
Though the sweetness of love was fleeting
And the bitter years of sadness and tears
Left a sting on her cheek and made her feel meek
She is finding her true voice
She is exercising her choice
To express herself in this world
Hers is the story of one small girl
Who grew into womanhood
The only way she could
Smoking this, drinking that
Sleeping with men wearing mad hats
Alice is every woman, in a way
Doing her best to recover from her past today
Building herself a better future
Re-writing her fairy tale
After giving so many men happy endings
She is creating a happy ending for herself
Filled with love, hope, and peace

The Emotions of Objects

The Emotions of Objects

I’ve heard it said that you should give away
Any object you possess
Which does not bring you joy
I agree with that, however

I have some objects which do not bring me joy
But the feelings they bring
Are worth learning from

For example,
I have pajamas which remind me of my mother
She was my first pimp, my original smotherer
I look at the faded yellow cotton and have flashbacks of the guilt-trips she would send me on, furious that I was never good enough
She still terrorizes me, even when we are far apart
To counter-balance the emotional storm stirred up by my unassuming nightwear,
I practice compassion and understanding
Adults are only hurt children themselves, but larger-sized

I also have a stained mug which reminds me that I was second-best
Allowing me an opportunity to practice humility

And a cracked bowl which resulted from an escapade of breaking the law
It reminds me to make wiser decisions now

I have some clothing
Which reminds me of letting down those most deserving of my attention
I breathe deep and remember
That it is OK to let people down
I accept that I cannot please everyone all of the time
Try desperately as I might

In my closet hangs a thread-bare scarf that I wore on many adventures
With an ex-partner who treated me, I realize now, like my mother:
Mandating, controlling, throwing fits if I hesitated to grant their every wish, spoken or unspoken
I practice self-forgiveness when I see that scarf
Because I was doing the best I could at the time

Now I do better
I practice compassion, understanding, humility, wisdom, acceptance of my limitations and self-forgiveness
The objects I own remind me
How far I’ve come
And encourage me
To continue on
My healing journey
Appreciating joy
Among many other colors
Of the emotional rainbow

Don’t get me wrong,
I’m still going to donate those items…eventually
Give them a new life
Throw them back in the sea
There is plenty of buoyant joy available
For you, me and everybody