Yesterday part 1

Yesterday I went to Zumba at the gym...don't hate. The teacher is the most beautiful mature black woman. She's probably around 65, with that snap of life that just radiates from her, and she has the most beautiful curly silver bob haircut. I fell in love instantly; and let me tell you, she can shake that boody like nobody's business. I'm talking straight up street.

Then in the front row, front and center, there was a 50 something year old man, gently balding, moustachioed, and sporting a hardcore knee brace. He was very fit and trim, and before he even started dancing, I was like, "you go brotha!" And then, did he dance, dude could have been in Riverdance.

All I know, is that within the first 15 seconds of the music pumping and bodies moving, I had tears in my eyes, especially because of these two. I just had that overwhelming feeling of kinship, and awe at the beauty of all the people around me. I truly believe we are all brothers and sisters, and in that second as I sashayed across the floor, and bit back tears of joy, I was so glad that my Heavenly Father had given these two their beautiful talent, and sweet spirits that I could just feel across the room. They may have been different than everyone else in the room, and I can only pray that they've never felt that sting of being the odd man out; but, I appreciated them, and next time, I'm going to make a point of telling them so.

The Man

My sweet man is a good deal of things that I don't understand, all mostly shining qualities that my coarse mind is still grasping at; that's why I love him. I still have to strive everyday to be a better person so that we can progress together. I love him for who he is and what he's done to me. To commemorate our 7th Valentine's Day of knowing each other I will tell you a few of the reasons I fell hard, right around this time, all those fabled years ago!

His smile lights me up
His gentle spirit
His incredible drive
The fact that such drive and sweetness is combined is really beautiful to me
His crazy thick thighs (it's like standing next to a horse) mmmmmhmmm
And best of all, he made/makes me feel so safe.

He is the the man; and I'm really quiet glad he's my man.

Sunday Musings

Be not afraid of the unknown. The glory of God is intelligence, and the more we explore the closer we draw to Truth. The more our struggles become the map of stars to new worlds, instead of fetters that tie us down. The hole in my heart keeps tearing open, and it hurts; but it's a sweet ache, a plague of love and compassion for others. Make your mind, heart and soul a holy place, that your spirit might become a mountain for others to reach their highest point.

Peace,

O.

Late morning breakfast

*As I made my breakfast in the kitchen this morning, my heart was full, and I cried tears of joy, of being completely overwhelmed by thoughts and emotions, and growth. I wrote this stream of thoughts to share with you, my lovely readers. I have left it unedited, and un-filled in. It just is. Take what you need. Love you. *


When all you can do is beg and plead and wrestle with the part of you that is one with the Lord.
When dancing and singing, and crying, flow from your body like branches from a tree, like leaves spiralling out to fall to the ground and nourish the earth.
When aspirations and dreams are both the most important thing, and yet mean nothing in the moment, for you are content with the world in front of you.
When the prospect of life ahead is so full of pain you almost wish that you could go home now, safe and finished; but you know that you love so many here.
Lift your head and feel the sun, smell the flowers, watch the ants crawl on the earth. They've said it forever, and I will say it again, because this whole earth was created for you, for beauty, for exploration, that we might worship a Creator more infinite than our minds can reach; but it feels so good to stretch, to reach higher than we can. And we reach those moments where it begins to hurt, to tear because we can reach no further. I sometimes feel that I am lost, that I have gone too far, that there was no purpose in the wanting, in the search; and then He reaches down to me. I kiss my baby's back, and I know that the Savior had a mother who loved Him, who kissed His back, she who loved the spirit inside Him. Who grieved for those terrible things that had happened, who feared for the future; who was only human, and could only pull back glimpses of angels in all the weaving, baking, washing, tending, walking, living that there was to be. And she who shed so many tears, to wash away an old world that her child might build a kingdom. That my tears might wash me clean that I might build, that my children might see. That we might all see, that we might all give. I want to give, I want the Lord to take. Take my best, take my worst. Give to whomever needs it, I don't care who they are, what they look like, what they're doing. For I am no better than any other; we've all been there. We all hurt, we all want. We all want what we can't have. And yet, we could have it. So lucky for all that I have, so cursed for the excess I let get in my way. I go round and round in circles that I can't understand. But I read books, and listen to music, and hug and kiss, and birth, and talk, and watch and sin, and write, and cry, and fight and forgive, and serve, and I sort into categories, and I make "reason" of things that I can't see from one end to the other, and I pray. And through all of it I grow through His grace, and I believe that it will serve a purpose. that I will serve a purpose. That we all will. It's what we're all meant for, that nothing is ever wasted. Every feeling, a tiny bird that flies home. Bringing you one flight closer to home, to Everything. To whatever you need.

Is It You?

If you think time is linear, then you're a fool.
My heart beats hollow sometimes, there's a trap door there.
It leads to the past, which, I constantly think about becoming my future.
It takes me under you, around you, through you;
But never to you.

There is no such thing as 'space'.
The distance between us is always the same.
It fits half way across the world, and in between old embraces.
If you called me there, I would already be THERE;
But will you?

There is a difference between joy and contentment.
I will have one without you, but not the other.
One can live a whole life with a smile on their face,
For a memory that isn't there.
It is you.

WUVE

The other day Brandon and I went to the new Calgary temple. For those who aren't LDS, you can read about why we build temples here. I love the temple, but it's really hard (for me at least), to go frequently...or basically at all, when I'm in the pregnant/birth/breastfeed kid till they're 5/ toddler stage. So we were grateful to Brandon's mom for watching the kids so we could go one Saturday. But....of course we got lost on the way, partially my fault/ stupid i phone/ I think it should have just been common sense... which resulted in heated heads and loud but not overly angry per se words. We got there right as the session started. Lame. No Game. But!!!!! There is a silver lining, we decided to do sealings instead of an endowment session. Sealings are like renewing your wedding vows over and over, whilst holding hands and staring into your lovers eyes! So we came out happy again, and ready to rock and roll. 

The temple helps Brandon and I to feel together; it is where we work even harder at becoming one. The temple softens our hearts, and opens our minds, to the endless possibilities that come from two constantly changing people who've chosen to bind themselves together for time and all eternity (AT the rip old age 20 AND 23!?!) And the spirit there instills in us the peace to make those decisions that lead us to become the people that go beyond the definition of who we even think we can be, like zombies. Just kidding, but it's like super cool, at least. Love B, love the temple, love my life.

wah wah

You know what's super awesome!? Everyday now, I wake up, check my email, and it says "new comment on beatific ponderances, " and I think, "whohoo, someone loves me," and then I check it, and it's spam. Thanks a lot spam for ruining my life, and how do I get rid of these spammers!!!

And now for Royce, my man:

Dracula sheds a tear

cheeks for days!!!!

Heeeeeeeellllllllo

look at my nice butt back there...

leather jacket, purple pants, 'nough  said

 cracker

gussied up for church

good.night.

love and crystals

I don't particularly feel like being overly informative right now, so I'm going to leave out the technical blah blah (for right now) on my raw cleanse. I'll give you the links here to the actual cleanse , and here to their full website. Suffice it to say though, that I am enjoying myself, I don't feel hungry, or really even yucky from my cleanse. I'm really enjoying it.

There was an interesting thought included in the packet that I would like to talk about though. We all know that I espouse self acceptance, and body consciousness and love, again with the blah blah... But something they said stopped me dead in my tracks. Could I look in the mirror each morning and say, "I love you." TO MY FACE!?! So I thought about it. I can say the words, "I love myself." but even that's different, more removed. I felt uncomfortable saying it to my face in exactly the way I would say it to Brandon's face, or to one of my kids. Why? Don't I truly believe in the idea that you can't truly love someone else until you love oneself? I do, I do; so I practised for a few days, and I now feel pretty good about saying it to myself. Maybe it was more of a just getting used to it, than an actual hang up, but still a barrier that I think makes a difference.

I asked Brandon if he could do it, and he said he would feel uncomfortable. I'd be interested to hear everyones thoughts on this, or give it a shot and tell us some results.

source

If not now then when?

Change 

is written 

in the hearts of men.

Society tells us it isn't, but our Spirits tell us something different. Mine tells me that no matter how blood red my soul becomes, there is One, he is the Son. He will make them white again, so that I can return home. I embrace change, I fall into it; heavy laden, after a weary day, falling deep into that warm, dark down comforter. I relish the ache that change brings to my sinews, the tears that it draws from my eyes, and the DOUBT it assuredly brings. Oh lordy, the doubt; may that doubt take me out into the wilderness, lead me to the mountain tops, tear a cry from my bosom! I'll shout from the top, and I'll watch the world change below me, because nothing ever stays the same. And sometimes that light from the top of the mountain pours down golden upon the land, pools in all the valleys, and shines like Christmas morning. But there are other times, when the mountain seems to split, and through the cracks and crags comes a deep dark burgundy that drenches the land. There are always two sides to the coin; but it doesn't matter, because there is only one way: Onward, Brothers and Sisters!

So in this season of change, take a moment to breathe it in. I wish you knowledge, joy, peace, charity, and adventure.



Mumford and Sons - The Boxer (Simon and Garfunkel Cover) from curicuis on Vimeo.

When I was Young

When I was a a young gun, I read a lot of inappropriate books. I have an inappropriate relationship with books, period. So many books devoured raw, beastially (not a real word); not even a hello, or a thank you. I consume, I destroy spines, I steal. I once kept a copy of W. Somerset Maugham's The Razor's edge for a whole year in high school, because I couldn't bear for it to go back to the school library, probably to never be picked up again (heathens).

When I was young I loved anything extraterrestrial, evil, or supernatural. I read every book our library had on witches, aliens, the lochness monster, ESP, and unexplained phenomena. I once read a reference book, on the history of witches, when I was 7 or 8, it told me that some believed a witch became a witch when she fornicated with the devil. That was a doozie.

I read Uncle Tom's Cabin in the 6th grade. Inappropriate. What in my little 11 year old brain thought that my comprehension was there?

I took a 400 level Russian Literature in Translation class as a freshman in college...for fun. Ha HA.

What is it about books that make me maniacal. The smell (I almost never buy new books, only used, or from the library), the notes and names written in throughout, the sense that your history was written right here in this book, maybe over a hundred years ago (Dr. Zhivago?). It lives, it breathes, it waits patiently for you to come along, and then it opens like a lotus, like a uterus, dilating to deliver a new being to you. It's true, I've found new worlds in paper and ink. I've changed as a person when reading the likes of Ayn Rand. I will probably even bow down to the likes of Judy Bloom in heaven. (She was never really my thing, you know, not much time between conspiracy theories, but 'Are you there God? It's me, Margaret', can help anyone).

Raise your hand if you used to fantasize about those pages at the very end of an old paper back. The ones that told you a price and an address, and the would mail you the newest and best, or the first and the golden of this author, or a similar theme by an author you've never heard of, exciting! I used to yearn to send away to those addresses in New York. Many of my books were published long, long before my coming to this earth though, but, I wondered what would happen if I sent that form off. Was there anyone still there? Were they still selling copies of Ray Bradbury serials? Would someone in a dark, beautiful, old corner, send me spiralling into a beautiful mystery by sending me an ancient Neverending Story?

When one needs to escape from reality, the book is always waiting. I took advantage at a much too delicate age. I am Captain Ahab now, and I will never be satiated with the smell of the sea!!!!(of books)!!!!!

I named my son Royce SOMERSET Lyons.

Thank you,  Brother Maugham. Thank You.

ROYCE

I feel bad, this guy hasn't gotten any of the cool blog posts that Vida received, I'm sure he'll be super kvetched when he's thirty. But this dude rocks! He just turned 11 months, and he's walking up a storm! He won't clap his hands, or wave unless I do it like 8 million times, but he still earns his keep somehow. He's very even keeled and doesn't care a bit that Vida snatches every toy of "her's" that he takes. They love each other so much, and love to play together, sometimes they sit in the back of the car and just laugh and laugh at each other in their carseats. Royce has almost eight teeth, weighs 23 lbs, and I don't know how tall, I just call him fat hobbit. He's also got an angel smile. We're in love with this sweet, sweet little man who loves to give us big open mouth kisses, and cuddles.