Acceptance Existence

Come to me and take my outstretched hands

Let me know you are there

Let me know of your warm existence

Open my hands and unfurl my fingers

Let my thoughts flow like untrapped sand from within them

And I will share what’s within me

Let our thoughts connect

Like the ocean’s beautiful waves, back and forth, back and forth

Always flowing in harmonious beauty

But you turn your back on me

And you say you can’t do it

But it’s really because you won’t

You don’t understand

And you won’t try

Because I’m not enough for you

Your hands are clenched in fists and hidden where I can’t find them

So your mind is closed to me

And I don’t know you are there

A cold existence in a world of many cold existences

It’s really really truly okay

Because there is always another

Another warmth

Willing to unfurl my hands to let my thoughts flow from within them

Willing to let their ocean flow, back and forth, back and forth

Letting me know of their existence

Letting me know that I am enough

That they understand

That the only way I can survive

Is to feel their warmth in a world of cold existence

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The Deeper Meaning To You And I

In the middle of a crowded room he takes my face in his large firm hands. He tilts it just so.
“Smile!” he says in a firm but still gentle tone.
I tilt my lips up at the corners just a little and realize what is happening. It happens every time I am happy, sad, angry and every feeling in between.
“Smile more!” he says. After a moment he turns my head in another direction, still gentle, still firm. “Make your eyes sad.” he says after another moment.
I do as he says. I think of the saddest thing I can think of and immediately I feel my eyes get slightly moist.
“Like that?” I say, dryly. “I know what you’re trying to do.” I add after a few seconds of silence.
“No. I bet you don’t.” he mumbles quietly before telling me to look surprised.
“At this point I’m sure everyone is looking at us like we’re fools.” I say.
“Yeah, but it’s worth it.” he says. “Because I just learned something about you that I don’t believe anyone else has bothered to realize.”
I frown. Of course I frown! I then try to make my face as expressionless as possible.
“Do my eyes look bad?” I say quietly, seriously.
“No. Your eyes look fine.” he says understandingly.
I raise my eyebrows at him and move away from his grip on my face. He drops his hands but places one on my shoulder.
“Has anyone ever told you that your eyes change with the light?” he asks.
“No? What are you talking about?” I reply in a baffled tone.
“Yep,” he says, “your eyes turn from hazel to light brown with the light. One moment they look like cafe con leche, and the next they look kind of hazel. I think they change with your feelings too.”

It has been nearly a week since that interesting incident between a friend and I. It was a slightly intimate moment that in its own weird way, was necessary to a point.
I call it necessary because I probably wouldn’t have learned what I did in any other way.

I then started thinking about that incident in far broader terms. I wonder at what other people see in us that we don’t see in ourselves that we wouldn’t know about unless someone pointed it out. These things shape us into who we are to the world at large but we need someone to point out that they exist in order for us to know.

Honestly, that realization didn’t give me much peace at all. There is the positive, which people gladly point out, and then the negative. If we don’t surround with mostly pesamistic people, we wouldn’t really know about these negative traits that we don’t see in ourselves.
And then there is the problem with differing views. Some people may point out a comparitively minor trait in us and manage to magnify it to an extent to where we feel hyper aware of it.
What someone sees as beautiful, natural and something worth having, someone else may look at a trait as totally different. The incident mentioned above is a good example of this. Someone may look into my expressive eyes and tell me that it’s wonderful that my face is transparent because they need not guess and they always know what I’m thinking or feeling. Someone else might look at my face and eyes and tell me that I need to be less expressive.
Of course, that’s a basic example, but one could apply it to personality traits that aren’t manifest in any physical way but mostly emotional.

Personally, I’m afraid to ask about the traits I may have that I am not aware of but are obvious to someone else. Do I consider it something that could be done in order so that we may improve as people and thus benefit in some way in the future? Absolutely! It is just a matter of finding that one person or people that will tell us in such a way that is constructive to us.

For now though, I do appreciate knowing what I know now even if it does make me uncomfortable to a degree. I find that being expressive isn’t bad at all just as long as I am aware of ways to control it so as to not reveal to much to those who aren’t deserving of my feelings.

Cause and Effect

I have been thinking a lot lately about the seeming lack of acceptance human beings tend to have towards one another. It may not be a lack of acceptance per say, but a seeming inability to understand that humans are made to be different. Not only that, but some people don’t seem to think that what someone is or has become is definitely within the realm of possibilities even if they have never experienced it before. All of this makes for a somewhat close-minded society in which humans become toxic for one another.

Cause:
I don’t claim to be an expert as to the cause. I can only speak for my own experiences and those of close friends who go through what I do on a regular basis.
Quite admittedly, my personal situation is a bit distinct in some ways. I am reminded of this most any time I meet a new person and they begin to ask questions. Some of these questions are perfectly acceptable, but others board on the rude and too personal. People can’t fathom that a blind woman with a hearing loss uses a visual language and still manages to sound just like them when she speaks out loud.
There are those people who have a specific opinions of how others should live their lives, molding the rest of the world into what they think they should be. When they meet someone who doesn’t meet their criteria for what they consider normal, they are absolutely boggled. I have seen people sit down and actually think about the simplest things I tell them, all the while oohing and ahhing and murmuring under their breath that they just can’t believe it. They can’t believe that someone is standing in front of them, talking to them that defies their definition of normal.

Effect:
While these people ooh and aahh about how different I am, I smile and take it with the upmost dignity. After all, my reaction to them dictates how they will treat someone else in a similar situation as mine. I have to hold back on occasion but be firm and clear about my need to communicate with them and be spoken to like an adult with thoughts and opinions.
However, after it is said and done and the door is closed behind me and I’m alone…that’s another story. I start wondering if there is something indeed wrong with me. I have sat in the dark wondering why it was me who has to deal with the fools with the rude questions and the disrespectful attitudes. I often wonder if the people I meet are truly honest, or simply view me as an enigma.
What people don’t seem to realize is that we know, I know that when a person who doesn’t fit into the mold society has established for us, are stared at and looked at as if we were animals in a petting zoo. I have been told that people circle around me as if I were contagious, and yet others look upon me with pity before nervously approaching me to comfort me. I want to rebel against this, but I learned a long time ago that I can’t control or dictate the reactions of others no matter what I do or say.
At the end of the day however, who I am doesn’t shame me. I still have moments of hesitation and can be unsure, but who doesn’t? At the end of the day I am a blind woman who still finds ways to see the world as if she were sighted, a woman who has a hearing loss that doesn’t keep her from listening to the things she loves as if she were hearing, and overall, a woman who desires to be treated with dignity and respect. I don’t view myself as particularly unique, but I have found ways to make things uniquely mine.

Contemplative Composer

When you want to write something but the words just don’t come. When you peer down at a lined piece of paper and wonder if those lines can somehow transform themselves into words of inspiration. When you think about your reaction if the ray of sunshine on the wall could turn into an image with hands that reach out and take you into it to fill you with something good and true. When you peer down at the floor and imagine that the scattered cookie crumbs can somehow gather into something meaningful at all.

Then you begin to think of those little things. The little things that create the big picture that is you. Those little things that, when isolated or if dared mentioned to another person, are seemingly insignificant. You know…those things you think about but know that if you really said them out loud, would make you feel slightly on the foolish side. Those things that create the kaleidoscope soul that is you and you keep them close at hand in a crystal box to take them out in the privacy of your mind.

I have a lot of those moments. I often think of those people who did something good in my life at some point in my passed. Those people who just by doing something for me or with me that was what either of us needed. I may wonder where they are, or how much they’ve changed in the intervening years.

I not only think of people, but think of the things that are importantn to me. The main sources of happyness that usually take me into a state of calm and serve to center my world. Music, art, dancing…and so on.

After it all I peer back down at the lined piece of paper, at that ray of sunshine on the wall, those cookie crumbs scattered on the floor…and still feel empty of the words. At this point I begin to wonder if anyone really cares. If I write anything at all. After a moment of yet more self-reflection I come to the conclusion that at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. We all have things that we want to share, and mine just so happens to be words. Sometimes words may go unheard or unread, but just making the attempt to share is often satisfying enough.

Unsaid, Unheard

So much unsaid
So much unheard
Where does it all go to?
Does it fly?
Or does it just die?
He shall not speak
As to not rock the boats
She shall not say
So no pain is felt
They shall not scream
For rejections are keen
So where does it all go?
So much unsaid
So much unheard
If one doesn’t speak
One shall not know love
If I don’t proclaim
They can’t be saved
If you don’t exclaim
I shall never know
For too much goes unsaid
And too much goes unheard
To which place shall it all go?
A secret place in my heart
A private place in my mind
On paper only to be thrown away
One must wonder why
Why things go unsaid
Why things  go unheard

Gonna Go Watch…

Gonna go watch the sunrise shining in my eastern window
I’m going to let it tell me that it’s a new day
A day for even more beautiful beginnings
Gonna go watch the dew twinkle on my lawn
Let it remind me that in darkness beauty is made
And always prepared to shine radiantly
Gonna go watch the birds in my tree
Let them serenade me with their songs
For even if my voice can’t be heard, theirs will speak for me
Gonna go watch the children sing and play in the schoolyard
Let their cries of joy fill my heart
Remind me that where there is guilt, innocence remains
Gonna go watch the waves crash in from the ocean
Imagine myself riding, tumbling, and standing up again
Feeling the water run over me to purify my soul
Gonna go watch you coming towards me
Your hands extended to take mine
Ready to guide me through any coming darkness
For the sunrise always becomes a sunset
For the dew always melts away to disappear
For winter comes and birds leave my tree
For the children get older and their innocence is gone
For the ocean can take me away and without you I can never return…

DREAMS: THE BEST SORT OF MEDITATION

Dreams: A series of mental images and emotions occurring during sleep. They can also be defined as a state of mind characterized by abstraction and release from reality.

I am a believer in these things that dominate so much time of our lives, yet most don’t take the time to contemplate them upon waking. Yes, we often forget what the dreams were even about, but there is that occasional one that sticks and makes you wonder if you take the time to remember. I wonder how many people actually sit up in their beds for a moment after waking and think back. Would one come to an epiphany? Would one remember something of their dream and come to a conclusion that would benefit them in the waking hours?
An example of this would be from my childhood. I had a series of reoccuring dreams. One of them was a field trip in kindergarten to a library or a large building with lots of books and things to do. The dreams were slightly different every time, but at the end of the dream I always went to the second floor of the building with the rest of the class. There was a window that with a view of the first floor there that I would reach out to touch, but something always happened to where I would sip and fall and that window wasn’t really a window but a hole in the wall. I would feel like I’m free-falling and wake up in my bed.
I think it’s safe to say that a lot of us had have a variation of this dream. As an adult, one now understands that this dream could be related to a series of things described as chaos, lack of control, and instability. We may have more adult versions of my example, but it all describes the same thing- our body and brain giving us a message we could do very well in listening to.

It truly amazes me that our brain can produce a series of images based on our emotions. So much can be learned from these images. They don’t even have to come from within us when asleep. If we let it, our mind can wander to things that we may not realize we need to think about in order to move on, or maybe even something less deep, but nonetheless important.
While I play the piano I often take myself into a state of meditation and let the music control my thoughts and the other way around just to see where they take me. During the more chaotic times, I have a vivid image of myself driving a car in a storm, the stereo at full volume. I can’t see the road very well or the things around me through the sheets of rain. I do know however that I am driving on a two-lane road near a tumultuous body of water. For a long time I didn’t understand the meaning of this image. In a moment of contemplation I mentioned it to someone and I finally got my answer.
He said that me driving a car means that I’m taking control. Sounds simple, but when one thinks about it…it’s not so easy. My mind put together a series of things that I love and put them together and put them in a tidy box called a daydream. It was telling me that the rain was the chaos, the car was my taking control, the body of water was what was going to happen to me if I didn’t keep the control, the music was what kept me sane and the road was the way to my solution if I kept said control.

I’m probably thinking about this too hard, or maybe I was meant to be the contemplative sort…who knows. I do know for sure though that one could do well in taking the time to contemplate, meditate and most definitely let oneself go into a state to where body and mind come together and create something completely natural and often times, truly beautiful.

Play For Me

Surround me

Be around me

Touch my body with your rhythm

Touch my heart with your voice

Move my body with your motions

Move my heart with your emotions

Never stop

For you are the only thing

That makes me feel

Feel things

I never felt before

I drown in your waters

Yet still feel

Feel more alive than ever

Ever before

I walk in your deserts

And still feel

Still feel like I’m walking

Walking in an oasis

I walk on your mountains

Higher and higher I walk

Yet still feel

Feel like I’m not

Not high enough

All of this

I yearn to feel

Every emotion

Every motion

I wouldn’t have it

Couldn’t have it

Any other way

Dreamer

Oh, I’ll just lie here

Reveling in your touch

The perfect feel

On my hair

On my face

So smooth, so perfect

Oh, I’ll just lie here

Reveling in your voice

So full of wonders

Talking of things passed

Talking of things to come

In my ear, in my heart

Oh, I’ll just lie here

Reveling in your scent

Nothing else with it can compare

Always so different

Yet always the same

In my senses, in my world

Oh, I’ll just lie here

Reveling in your moods

I’ll just look in to your eyes

Deep blue when you’re calm

Deep black or grey when you’re angry

Never calm, never still

Oh, I’ll just lie here

Reveling in just you

For I am just a dreamer

Dreaming of you

For you are my dream of an ocean