I am vulnerable and I am okay with that.

Last night I watched/listened to a Ted Talk by Brene Brown, called "The power of vulnerability" and it really struck a chord with me. This entire blog is built on the power of vulnerability and the growth that I seek, as a result of allowing myself to be vulnerable.

It wasn't until very recently that I began sharing what I write here, with a group of others numbering more than 3 or 4. I was afraid to be vulnerable. What I've been lead to believe for a long time is that vulnerability equals weakness. If I bare myself to people who will be critical of me, I open myself up to hurt. I always saw hurt as a negative thing; something to avoid at all costs. After all, that's human nature... to survive, enduring as little pain as possible.

It wasn't until my own personal shift in consciousness, that lead me down a path of acceptance and self improvement, that I began to slowly embrace my vulnerability. I began to see that the things that make me vulnerable, also make me beautiful. My flaws, imperfections and defects are hard to accept at times, but they make me just as unique as the qualities about myself that I deem positive and worthy.  I also began to recognize that what I found most attractive in others was often their ability to be vulnerable. The more vulnerable I see a person become, the more I want to love them.

Sometimes it's hard to accept the fact that when I'm experiencing pain, I'm actually growing. I'm my own worst critic, especially when it comes to matters of the heart... and let's face it. With me, everything is a matter of the heart. It's where life generates for me. Most of what I do, I do because it comes from, speaks to, or helps to heal my heart. Chances are, if you're part of my life, you have a place in my heart.

This way of life is extremely vulnerable and until recently, I wouldn't even admit to you that I was so emotionally driven. Again, with the concept that vulnerability = weakness, the last thing I want you to think is that I'm weak. It's a vicious cycle, if you haven't already picked up on that. To break this cycle, I began to - as Brene Brown describes it - surrender and walk into my vulnerability. I really began to see the beauty in it, just like I see the beauty in others who can be vulnerable.

For me, leaning into this feeling of susceptibility is a sort of freedom. It's freedom from the bondage of my past, freedom from adapting myself to others' ideas of what I should be and freedom to be who I really am, at my core - that person that's so deep inside that the only time she comes out, is when there's no one around to judge her. I'm proud to say that that me, that vulnerable me, has seen the light of day more in the last few months, than ever before.

When I pour what's in my heart, onto this very screen, I'm inviting each and every one of you to look inside my heart. Your interpretation of what you see is as unique as you are. That is such a beautiful thing for me to be a part of. It's a way for me to express myself and possibly touch something in you that I know nothing about. The way I form words, to express the things I feel, is open to interpretation and exploration.

The thought that others could be interpreting and exploring my words in a way that could be detrimental to my feelings, was what used to keep me from sharing my work. Now I see that this is beautiful and it doesn't so much matter how you interpret them, but that you interpret them at all - that you take the time to read something that I created and let it touch you in some kind of way. This is connection. It's all a part of my spiritual reach and I can't have a very long reach, if I don't step out into the light and bare myself for you to see.

Sometimes my ego gets in my way and tells me that what I write here is too personal. The feelings I write about are often tied to people that could very well be reading what I write. My ego thinks this is dangerous and in order to stay safe, I must protect my feelings and keep them locked up until someone who has deemed them self worthy, is able to present me with the key that unlocks what's inside my heart. To my ego I say... fuck off! I hold the key to the safe that houses my deepest emotional substance. I can choose to be vulnerable and open myself up to rumors, judgements and criticism. In doing so, I erase the fear of shame and embrace connection.

To quote Brene Brown again...

"Connection is why we're here. It's what gives purpose and meaning to our lives. This is what it's all about."

This is absolutely my truth. Although I've spent a good part of my life fearing connection with others because I never felt like enough, I've always thrived on those connections that overcame my shame-based thinking. When I get spiritual and tap into my vulnerability, I see all of the ways that I'm connected.

I'm connected to the mom that feels like nothing she does can help her child get through these difficult times. I'm connected to the alcoholic that is trying to bury his deep pain in the bottom of a bottle of whiskey. I'm connected to the overweight woman who just wants to be accepted and feel beautiful, exactly the way she is. I'm connected to the musician that pours his heart out in the music he writes, only to have people talk over and ignore him while he plays his song. I'm connected to the outcast who never belonged anywhere and still really doesn't. I'm connected to the perfectionist who appears to have it all together, but cries herself to sleep every night because she feels so empty. I'm connected to the procrastinator who just can't find the courage or the gumption to do what he's always wanted and needed to do. I'm connected to the liar who fabricates so many aspects of their life, because the truth just doesn't feel like enough. We're all connected and the more I accept that and embrace it, the more beautiful everything becomes. We're all cliches of some kind, built by a society that we are inadvertent products of. We're all imperfect in our own special way. But we are enough.

I am enough.

Although it can be excruciatingly painful to be deeply seen, that is my goal here. I want to really learn how to love with my whole heart, in all aspects of life. I want to live while I'm here and experience all that life has to offer me... both the joyous and the painful. For how could I appreciate true joy, without having known and experienced deep pain? It's all part of the balance that comes to my life when I surrender to my vulnerability and overcome my shame.

Thanks for connecting, being vulnerable and taking this journey with me.

Contact

When the devil creeps in, we shoo him away.

When doubts creep in, we go the other way.

Between our minds, those things left unsaid.

Between the sheets, desire's our bed.

On the other side, this all looks so right.

On this side, lips sealed so tight.

Can't turn the thirst off, no matter how we try.

Won't turn the lust off, it's how we get high.

Space between us, makes reflection come.

Time between us, just a beat of the drum.

Whatever this is, I feel it now.

Whatever this will be, is what we allow.

Sing me your song, I promise to hear.

Sing from your heart, and I won't disappear.

Don't float away and take what we've shared.

If we both go away, just know that I cared.

Image by Alex Da Corte

Distraction

Distraction

I love your distraction

What you provoke in me

And what you excite in me

You're so deep

I want to know you

Feel your heart's song

As it leaves your lips

Distraction

I love your distraction

What you touch in me

That I can't touch in myself

You're so complete

Like everything I'm not

Fill me up from within'

Make me whole again

Distraction

Be my distraction

I don't wanna see

Anything but you

She took a walk...

Courtesy of Milwaukee Noir

She ran out the front door and down the few stairs, before she even knew she was moving. Tears swelled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. The cold, late winter air slapped her and froze the tears, like icy little paths of sorrow. Her feet carried her some distance, before she stopped to rest and wipe her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. She slumped over, bracing herself against the post of a street light, that cast her long shadow across the sidewalk. Her hair blew about her in strings, sticking to her moist face. She tried to vomit, but there was nothing inside for her to release. All she could do was breathe... in through her nose and out her through her mouth. Slowly and methodically, she calmed her heaving chest and stood upright again. The tears had stopped flowing and her eyes burned under the bright light.

For the first time since bursting out of his front door, she was aware of her own body and movements. Her sneakers touched the pavement with purpose as she pushed herself onward, towards an alleyway a short distance from where she stopped to rest. The alley was dimly lit and looked like the perfect place for her to disappear. All she wanted to do was disappear... to be erased from this moment. The refuge of the quiet, narrow passage would have to do. She turned the corner and melted into the darkness, walking slowly and deliberately.

Eventually emerging from the alley and onto a busy block, she looked around through squinted lids. She was in her city, but it showed itself differently now. Darker... like the opposite of how things looked when she was newly in love. The city had become a sinister foe, reminding her of everything she had lost. Had she really lost anything, or simply given it away for a chance at another life? Whatever the case, her journey must start anew... right there, on that bustling city street. The cars that passed, rattled her pounding head. The sound reminded her of the train. She always loved the train and how it traveled on the tracks, with rhythm and purpose, not straying, always moving forward. She headed for the tracks to further clear her mind.

Courtesy of Milwaukee Noir

As she neared the tracks, she could hear the distant hum of a train approaching. She found a spot where she could comfortably lean and take some stress off of her already aching body. Calmly she waited, focused only on the cloud of frozen breath that left her nose. Her mind was as numb as the tips of her fingers, fumbling around with the contents inside her jacket pockets.

Courtesy of Milwaukee Noir

After what felt like a few minutes, or maybe more, the train came, as reliably as ever.  It ponderously floated along the bridge that covered the road she had just came from. The high pitched whine of metal on metal, as the train passed her, was music to her ears. Her breathing matched the heaving of each weighty train car, as it traveled along the tracks. She closed her eyes for a moment and melted into the rhythm of the train. She could feel the deepness of its massive presence, in her chest. There was something about trains that soothed her. She felt so lost in the cadence of the train that she would have lost her footing and fell to the ground, had she not opened her eyes.

Courtesy of Milwaukee Noir

This train was long and tranquilizing, with plenty of visual interest. Each car that passed her had a bomb on it... just for her. In that moment she felt like the only person on earth to ever gaze upon the graffiti and really see it. See each line, each drip, each fade, like it was put there just for her to enjoy... to help her forget her confusion, if only briefly.

Like all good things for her, the train came to an end and she watched the blinking red light until it faded beyond the buildings in the distance. Suddenly her resting place felt cold and uncomfortable and she was ready to move on. But to where? The train had calmed her enough that sleep felt like a viable option. She knew she should go home, so she began to head in that direction. Walking now felt cumbersome as her feet were slowly hardening to ice inside her shoes.

Courtesy of Milwaukee Noir

As she walked the memories tried creeping back into her mind, but she pushed them out and pushed on. The over pass was her next place of refuge. She walked beneath the roadway and let the hum of the vehicles passing above her, soothe her once more. She felt much like an infant, in need of a white noise, to drown out the discord inside her heart. Although her view of the city had become compromised, once again this place would abet her.

As she rounded the last corner, she saw her building and gazed upon her window, where the light was still on. She must have forgotten to turn it off before she left. The way the light was so contained inside her space, it was as if she was on the outside of freedom. She so desperately wanted to follow the light... to be the light. Shining inside of whatever container she happened to be put in. In that moment, before she climbed the stairs home, she remembered her walk and from where she had come.
She decided she was adequate and that the city had told her so... again.

It's not you, it's me.

I loved you,

as best as I could

During a time of confusion,

together, we stood

I'll never forget,

the way that I felt

When we first came together,

I watched my fears melt

There will always be,

a place for you in my heart

I'm sorry it has to be this way,

and that we have to part.

I never meant to hurt you,

know that's for real

I just didn't realize,

How much I have to heal

I hope you find contentment,

or some way to be okay

These feelings are so troubling,

can't easily be tossed away

I tried so hard to fix this,

but it wasn't to be repaired

What kept us so stuck,

was just our fear of being scared

As the old saying goes,

It's not you, it's me

How true that is in all of life,

and finally I see

You don't love me...

I know you don't love me
The way you treat me
You only want me to long for you
To obsess over you
To make you feel good

You don't love me
You don't love me

I know you don't respect me
The way you talk to me
You only want me to listen to you
To obey you
To make you feel good

You don't love me
You don't love me

I know you don't feel me
The way you hurt me
You only want me to do this for you
To fulfill you
To make you feel good

You don't love me
You don't love me

I know you don't see me
The way you look through me
You only want me to be there for you
To protect you
To make you feel good

You don't love me
You don't love me

I know you don't trust me
The way you doubt me
You only want me to prove this to you
To validate you
To make you feel good

You don't love me

You never fucking loved me

Can't even love yourself
How could you love me?

In my hotel bed

I was laying in this hotel bed, 

with a swirl of recollections 

from the past 24 hours, 

buzzing in my head.

I started to drift away,

towards that all-important sleep,

I stayed there for a short time 

until a nightmare came my way.

It's the first bad dream I've had in bed

in quite a long while. 

A song played and a feeling came,

that ended with a gun against my head.

I woke up scared and lonely 

afraid to sleep again.

I thought of you then,

in that moment of fear... oh, if only. 

Crushed

The object of your desire,

an all consuming obsession.

That fuel that burns the fire,

to keep you in transgression.

Maybe it's an addiction,

something you can't control.

An endless soul affliction,

that will somehow make you whole.

What is it that you're yearning for,

what is it that you need?

Never really sure how much more,

your broken heart can bleed.

Everything you earnestly seek,

is all inside of you.

No one else can make you weak,

unless you give them power to.

Your painful craving is not love,

although it feels so close.

Sometimes fits just like a glove,

filled with your presuppose.

You must seek something higher,

than anything on earth.

A force that will acquire

your forfeited self worth.

Easier said than done,

but not completely absurd.

This journey has just began,

but already the lines are blurred.

Photo Courtesy of Milwaukee Noir

From the Archieves Pt. 1 - Dedicated to Christina and Eddie

I decided it was time to blow the dust off some of my old pieces and shine the light on them again.

The pieces that I was particularly drawn to today, where pieces I wrote while pregnant with my daughter and shortly after her birth. They feel especially relevant as we begin the month of March and I reflect on my state of being, some 8 years ago... as I entered my 9th month of pregnancy. 

As I look back on that time, I find I have little memory of my day-to-day feelings and state of being. These pieces bring so much of that back, however. The experience of sharing my body with another human being is something that words can barely describe, but somehow I managed to convey it well enough, that 8 years later, I feel as though I'm right back there again.

The timing of this discovery is also so appropriate and relevant, as one of my dearest and closest friends is currently expecting her first child. A son. The happiness I feel for her and her husband can only be measured in how much I share in their joy and what little bit of my own experience, I can share with them.

So these entries are dedicated to Christina, Eddie and Baby Dahlberg...

***

You Are There - January 2007

You are doing these little things

To let me know that you are there.

When I am rested

Just me and my thoughts, alone at last...

There you go.

You knock on my soul,

Let me know you are there.

They say by now you can hear my voice

And your father's too.

Do you know us yet?

I think you know me.

You are always letting me know when you are there.

When I think that all is lost

And I start to lose myself...

There you go again.

Bouncing and kicking to let me know,

That you are still there.

You may just be living,

But for me,

To know you are there,

Is a comfort I appreciate.

It's me and you now...

And that's not too bad.

Something tells me it's always going to be 

Me and you.

Even if we've got the rest of the world

On our heels.

***

When I Look at You - April 2007

When I look at you
I see little bits of me
I see all that I was
And all you will be

When I look at you
I see parts of him too
Across lashes and brow
To the strength in you

When I look at you
I see love like never before
What I've missed my whole life
How I've wanted nothing more

When I look at you
I know deep in my heart
That you love me too
And that's where I must start

When I look at you
Sometimes I just cry
Because I did something so good
And I didn't even try

***

It amazes me, how completely relevant these words still are today. I could have written most of this just yesterday, or the day before. Although my daughter is almost 8-years-old, she's still very much, my baby. It's the kind of love that never waivers.

This All Makes So Much Sense

I thought I let the idea go, 

but there was never any resolution. 

The possibility of you, 

stayed with me. 

It clung to me always, 

Photo Courtesy of Milwaukee Noir

somewhere in the depths of my mind... 

or maybe in my heart. 

That seems to be a better place 

for you to reside. 

My mind often makes a mess of this. 

There are too many possibilities 

and then I can't see myself straight. 

If I let you out to help 

and to talk to my mind, 

you'll just make sense 

of all of this for me, 

won't you? 

You seem to be able to do that... 

to make sense. 

But I don't need you to help me. 

I can make it on my own. 

I need to take this journey alone, 

yet you're there, trying

trying to get into my heart. 

And here I go again...

knocking at the door, 

asking you to get out. 

Or at least that's what 

I think I am doing,

but my brain can't be trusted,

to see things as they are.

And the truth is... 

I want you to come inside and stay 

for a while. 

I miss you.

Do you miss me?

How could you?

I haven't even left yet.

I've always been there,

on the outside of my own heart,

while you've been inside...

getting comfortable.