The essence of life is nothing but the burning purpose of this moment is now......  

Freedom Of Choice

I have always been a planner and a goal setter but over the past few years of retirement I have been learning a different way. It has been a radical shift in my thinking and doing to a freer-flowing mode of being.

My days no longer hold constraints to anything at this point. I can choose to do something I am excited about and have fun doing it. There is no fixed goal, no set plan, and the destination doesn't matter as much as the journey. Instead, I now depend on my flow of ideas, and on things that happen along the way. Things can shift. I can not predict these changes when I get started but I have learned to adapt. No goal would be adequate to the task. If something does come up - a new opportunity presents itself - I can completely shift. I can let go of my idea of what my day was supposed to be because the ideas of what should be are now lightly held. They mean nothing, really, and the important thing now is the flow. I have learned to be flexible instead of set. I have learned to be good at change and uncertainty instead of fearing it.  

As situations arise I adapt and let go of my plans and goals. I move with the flow of the water, with the changing of the landscape. I am now free to do this because where I end up is no longer of prime importance - I just want to be present on my journey, be compassionate with each step, and have fun each moment along the way. No destination or goal matters if they are all good. Each step along the way now becomes the destination and is exactly where I need to be.

I am now comfortable living each day without a goal. I can write something for fun, just because I want to get it out of me, without knowing what the effect of my writing will be. I can figure out the words as I go, without knowing what the finished piece will read like. 

I now live my life without a fixed plan - without knowing where I will be living in five years or what I want to achieve next. I certainly don't know all the answers, but I do know that I am much freer as I have learned to let go of goals, fixed plans and fixed destinations. And life is good.  

Courage is the foundation of integrity.....

Thought for the day:
Owning my footprints and loving myself through that process is one of the bravest, and most powerful things that I have done

The paths travelled along a life journey can lead the way to enlightenment .....  

Enlightenment

by Beverlee Blampied (c)

Between illusions and truths
Her dreams have been painted
On the wings of a butterfly
From simplicity to grace
The untold mysteries of life
Have become clear and
Her immense change and growth
Have emerged from the wings of a butterfly
Flying across and above
Soaring to uplift the spirit of her life
Fluttering with strength and dignity
Even in the face of the wayward wind
Through the infinite sea of a hurt heart
She has disentangled herself
From the smoky shadows of disillusionment 
That have stirred her soul
She has finally freed the butterfly 
And between adversity and silence 
Has found her own wings

  

Adversity is the first path to truth.....

Word Worthiness

by Beverlee Blampied (c)

What words are worthy to tell the true story

The real melody that plays the heart

Softly, gently strumming notes
With broken vessels heard
Sounding the silent utterance

Bursting full with sweet contentment

What letters can be faithful to this rhythm

Making words meaningful

A monochrome rhapsody of colors

Like water in motion - behind their echo  

Timeless, ever flowing drops
Of thirsting dust

And natural, ineffable light

A breathing harmony in the eyes of the world

In weathered faces filling up crying places

With hope real and deeply present

What words are worthy to tell of the truth

Behind the facades, between illusion and lies

From the smokey shadows 
That  have been projected

Eyes being blind, mouths having judged

What words can speak the truth 

To paint an image that will become clear

For deep enough in words
There is a bedrock of truth

However hard it is to hear

What letters are worthy to speak
To make the truth be heard
To understand the consequences 
The burning bridges, the slamming doors
The finality of an olive-branch rejected
What words have everlasting power
What words are worthy to tell the true story.....

  

In the middle of a difficulty lies opportunity.....

Thought for the day:
We can spend our life dwelling on the outrages, scandals and things that are not right in our life - or, we can take a moment to search for the light and in that moment of light follow a new path on which to set our footprints.....

It is only through the darkness that we can find light.....

The Insidiousness of Depression

Her memory was the first casualty. She forgot appointments. When she did remember them she could no longer calculate when she had to leave the house in order to arrive at her destination in time. It was as if her brain had shut down. She found herself writing lists for when to get up, when to start getting dressed, when to walk out the door, how long the subway ride should take. And, still, she often showed up too late or too early. Sometimes she even forgot to show up at all, and people began to think that she was rude and that made her feel worse. She moved as if in a fog, uncertain of the time, the day or even the season. She left the oven on one day and overflowed the bathtub another time.  One evening when having dinner with friends at a restaurant she suddenly realized that she had forgotten her purse in the ladies room. She jumped up from her chair and dashed back to the washroom. The purse was gone. Terribly upset, she returned to the table where her friends pointed out her purse, dangling from the back of her chair. From the looks on their faces, she knew her friends thought that she was losing her mind. She began to wonder if she was.

She rejected the depression diagnosis that came several months later. She had experienced a huge personal loss and she felt she just needed to get through the grieving process. She was sad, but not, she felt, clinically depressed, as her doctor had suggested. She felt there was a big difference in the way she would be reacting if her doctor's diagnosis was real. At her next visit, having shown no true signs of improvement, the doctor suggested antidepressants. She burst into tears. What if the pills permanently altered her personality? What about the side effects? What if they were addictive? What if they made her drool? What if she went on them and then couldn't get off them without going crazy? She also wondered why she objected so much - no one would feel embarrassed about taking pills for heart disease or diabetes.

She sat on the subway, heading home, analyzing her condition - she wasn't depressed. She just needed a little more time. She could work through this without going on medication. She tried to choke back sobs, but could not control her tears. Words like madness, lunacy and insanity filled her head. In the distance of her frightened and frantic mind, she heard herself scream the words out loud. She felt exhausted, dehydrated and yet was so cold she was sweating. At the next station she stumbled out the door of the subway car as the passengers averted their eyes.  She did not remember where she was heading but finally knew that she was out of control. She pressed the emergency button on the wall of the subway platform, sat on the nearby bench and waited for someone to help her - she was ready now to admit that she was depressed and to walk whatever path was necessary to work through the pain..... 

Silent Screams

By Beverlee Blampied (c) 

Is life just a dream

None of it real

A delusion, a dress rehearsal

For an after life

A play -

Acted with true emotion

Offering the feel of reality

With her

Always outside the chilly winds

Always observing

In a silence that surrounds her

Alone

Searching

At a point beyond the stars

Where no one hears

Her silent scream 

Emptiness

by Beverlee Blampied (c) 

Dark clouds hang low in the sky
Engulfing her in a cloud of depression
And wrapped in emptiness
She stands awkwardly
Conscious of every move
Thinking before reacting
To even a smile
Half grins
Never seem to make loud laughs
The spontaneous kind
She's like to feel just once
She listens eagerly to music
Yet she can't move
Her hands feel a need
But can't express
Only inside she feels
And through her sensitive skin
She wants to reach out
Yet instead
She can only scream
Silently

Depression

By Beverlee Blampied (c) 

A private place
This mind of hers
A secret world
Enclosed by emptiness
But trespassed by pain
A personal possession
Fully experienced with nature's rage
Withdrawn
Closed to life
With all it's unfilled promises
Appearing incapable of asserting character
Of coping or existing
Yet all the while searching
For answers
That can not be found