Second-Hand Inspiration

You know what I love most about thrift stores and little second-hand shops? Sure, I'm a broke college student on a budget, and you can't argue with the prices you'll find at these types of shops. (I once bought a winter coat for $6!) But I don't shop at these places simply because they're affordable. I shop there because of the stories that are told with each item I find.

As I've stated before, I find inspiration in the strangest of places. Something about being submerged in this massive place filled with other peoples' stuff... stuff that they once used, that once was in their homes, that influenced their life in some way... really inspires me. I imagine what they looked like, what their names were, if they had a big family or lived alone... I wonder why they got rid of the things they did. It's like a movie that plays in my head.

Anyway, I was rummaging through some of the glassware (searching for a fishbowl for my new fish!) and found an interesting looking book, called Transformation Soup by Sark. I found it odd that it would be in the middle of the dishes and cookware, so I picked it up and flipped through the pages, and was instantly sucked in.

The pages were hand-written in bright hues of pink, green, blue, and yellow. There were silly illustrations scrawled across most every page, and an interesting beginning to the book, which was simply a white page with the words "you are your own healer" scrawled on it. With every page I turned I found more bits of wisdom and insight on how to truly heal oneself. It invited me to look at myself, isolated from every person who has ever had an affect on my life, and figure out who I was without them. It invited me on a journey to discover my own potential, and mend the broken pieces of my past.

And I don't know about you, but I think $1.99 is a small price to pay for such infinite wisdom!

So I bought the book, as you could have guessed, and I haven't been able to put it down! Though I wouldn't necessarily consider myself a "broken" person, I've been through my fair share of relationship trauma and lost many pieces of myself I wish I had held onto. I've been sort of stuck for the past 5 years of my life due to a failed relationship (most of my poetry and other various ramblings reflect on said relationship) and I was certain I'd never be able to open up and love someone again. But this book really spoke to my heart, and I learned that while it's easy to blame others for our misfortunes, what it really boils down to is how you react and respond to the not-so-fun things in your life. And by changing your view of yourself, you change how you interact with others, and, well, lots of changes occur and pretty soon, you're happy. :)

I can tell you one thing for certain, I never would have picked up this book in a retail book store! (So go out an support second-hand stores! It's the best way to recycle, too!)

I'll leave you with a little taste of Transformation Soup (hehe... pun):

"Sometimes it hurts to much to peel back the layers and feel what's under there.
Yet what we're not healing is hurting us somehow- whether it be through absence, stagnation, avoidance, or bad dreams. Healing can be nearly invisible, agonizingly slow, astonishingly rapid, easy, very difficult, and inexplicably woven into the hurt, so we can't tell what's been healed right away. But there are jewels in the dirt, gifts in the mud, and doorways we didn't previously see.

We must only be willing to see what is.

Let's speak of our secrets, share our pain and tears, and lean closely together to peer into the dark caverns. We are so indelibly connected to each other, and such tender souls. There is much to heal, and a lot to laugh about.

Let's begin".

Here We Go

It took me over 6 years to come to the realization that sometimes you fall in love with the wrong person.
I did.
And now that I know it, I have to accept it.
And eventually, move on.

It's so clear to me now. Every problem with our relationship from the beginning was clouded with the desire to make it work at whatever cost; so clouded, in fact, that I never realized that at our very cores, we were simply two very different people with similar interests.

In hindsight, the warning signs are so obvious. We were instantly attracted to each other, developed a relationship within a matter of days, and fell helplessly in love with each other without a second thought. We wanted each other to be each others' "one-and-only" so badly that we created the idea that we were all we had, and for the course of our lives, we depended on that and altered our plans to include each other. Even while we weren't together. It seemed inevitable and unavoidable that I would love him until the day I died.

But I recently discovered that I can control this.

I can stop loving someone who is only hurting me.

I can pick up the pieces of my own life, and rebuild it without him.

I was dependent. I was sick. I was waiting for a happy ending that would never come. Why? Because fundamentally, we are simply wrong for each other, and no amount of me attempting to make it work, waiting for him to change, or altering my expectations is going to change who we are at the end of the day.

It kills me and terrifies me to say goodbye to him, but it's something I must do.
Parts of me will always be attached to him. I will never forget the love we shared, and he will always be a part of who I am. I cannot change this.

But I can change where I go from here.

It's time to get my life back.

Here we go.

Jaded Fables

When
does one put away
the dreams of youth
and replace them with
the expectations
of reality?

At which point
does one decide
which memories aren't worth
the pain of keeping
and which ones are too painful
to part with?

I've been living
in two different worlds; the old, and the new.
Which one holds the real me?
And how can I ever know?


And when
does it become clear
that giving up
isn't the same
as letting go?

perched

I am perched
above the treetops.
I know you're somewhere down there,
among the chaos of the city,
but I find you
in the most silent
and simplest
of places.

In the sprinkling of raindrops
I feel the brush of your fingers.
At the onset of a breeze,
your breath caresses my troubled thoughts.
I can't see you
but I can feel the good of you
in the earth.

I imagine you waking
the dawn tip-toeing across your skin,
the tiny nuances of your expressions,
the wrinkles in your hands.

I hope someday you'll climb up here
and share this lovely view of the world,
but for now
I'll be perched.
And just knowing you once loved me
will have to be enough.