Unbridled Joy

Unbridled: free, undirected, unrestricted. Thoughts are freely shared. Gestures are unlimitlessly given. There are no fears, no holding back. Everything that is mine is yours; my happiness, my fears, my dreams and what I ate that day. No other word, but joy, is a fitting discription. So love me unbridled so I can know joy, unbridled…

Moods 

The heart, a kaleidescope of fire and ice, calm seas, clear blue sky and starry nights. Sometimes the clouds gather overhead, the thunder rumbles and lightening strikes and the rain pours down. And sometimes the birds chirp and the sun warms the face. A cool breeze provides just the right relief on a blazing summer day. There are even times when it is a culmination of it all in a one day.

So how do two hearts then co-exist? How do they manage to find a middle ground when at times both are in conflict? How do they walk side by side, hand in hand when so often their moods are not in agreement? When her skies are blue, his are grey. When he has sunshine she has rain.

Perhaps you are each other’s cool breeze that gently steers the clouds away so that the sun shines again. Perhaps his clouds cover up her sun to create beautiful shapes in the sky that they can watch in wonder. Perhaps they don’t agree, but compliment each other instead…

Age

I always say you’re as old as you feel. Not that I promote being in denial about your age. If anyone asks me how old I am, I tell them I’m 31 because that is what I am: 31. I don’t believe that’s old nor do I believe it’s young, I believe it’s my age.

No matter how firmly you believe in something, someone or something always comes along and either rocks your belief boat a little bit or straight up dismantles it! She’s a 21 year old gym instructor and I heard her say, “Oh my gosh, he’s 32! He’s a blesser!” Sidebar: A Blesser, for my non South African readers, is an older man that dates and spends money on much younger women- a sugar daddy, if you will.

When I heard this declaration, I felt old for the first time since I started owning my age. I’m past my prime! I might as well book myself at a retirement home! Drama, drama, drama!

Those thoughts lasted all of  5 minutes. I’m ok now!

You Pt 2 ( Ankle-Deep)

I am only ankle-deep ( but really, waist deep). I’ve disregarded the waters creeping to my toes (but really they have reached my ankles), immersing my feet ( but really crawling up my calves) and taking a firm grip on my ankles ( but really, my thighs are emmersed).

I dare not let you see past my scruffy walls. I dare not let the waters up my legs ( oh, honey, they are far past your legs) I dare not let myself go and allow the waters to take me where they wish. I dare not! I am only ankle-deep! I can control ankle-deep! Ankle-deep won’t drown me! Ankle deep is safe and I can still escape unscathed -I think.

Adequate

If you are adequate, there is a problem.

Adequate is comfort. It is complacency.

It is the fat man with a bag of chips on his belly and the images on the tv passing before his eyes. He’s taking nothing but those crisps in, and the only direction he will grow is wide…

Being rendered inadequate makes me scared, insecure. I even want to give up because how could I possibly measure up? But better to be pushed to be better than staying in one place- stagnant, adequate…

You are Missing from Me

I miss home when I’m missing you.

You feel like my childhood pictures, mom’s home cooking, comfort, affirmation, my mom’s voice, laughter, being carefree and worryless, a beautiful song. You are familiar. A place I should have known was where I’ve always wanted to be. Oh honey, You are missing from me…