Tag Archives: foo fighters

Doing a Binky

A Binky: that amazing sideways hoppy-jumpy, skippy, twisty, throwing-themselves -through-the-air thing rabbits do when they’re extra-happy.

I often say: That’s okay. Sometimes when I say this to someone it’s accurate. Sometimes it’s not. Instead, it’s my way of trying to let go of the topic so we can move onto something else. All the while, the inner me is breathing furiously into a paper bag in an attempt to stop hyperventilating. My inner being has brought this to my attention and is telling me that my methodologically is skewed, at best.

Sitting here, I’ve discovered why I do this during times when I’m clearly not okay. I now know why I express this plainly inaccurate, and in many ways false, reply. I do it for two reasons. First, to spare the other from the truth and any associated pain once that truth has been realized and absorbed. Secondly, I do it to escape the situation. This being my chosen method since I was a small child, when there were so many pains from which I needed to escape.  All of my life I’ve worked to avoid drama. In many ways my, ‘That’s okay,’ reaction is a mechanism that helps to avoid the drama of dialogue. Dialogue such as, “Oh hey, you just completely let me down. Let’s talk this over. Oh, are you surprised and now also feel immense discomfort? Let’s talk about that too. Hell, let’s make a day out of it.” Nothing in me wants to have that conversation. Never has, and I’m quite certain never will.

As a result of my seemingly unchanged demeanor, its easy for people to conclude not only am I unfathomably strong, leaning towards impervious, but also that I’m unattached to any desired outcome. For the most part, both are accurate. Not that the initial characterization is anything to write home about; as it generally just means due to one’s deep sensitivity they have built a thick wall around their inner being as to not become vulnerable. The latter, however, is the way of the great sages: No expectation. The teaching says: Detachment from the outcome, to live without the need for a specific result, is to live a life of freedom.

In my opinion, no truer words could be said. And yet, I find it nearly impossible to apply them when it comes to matters involving the romantic heart. And taking into consideration the comments of my closest friends, I would have to say they too would agree. I have to believe this is why most sages remained single. Giving love without condition or expectation, is something that resonates deeply within me. It is my natural course of action. But it is a different feeling when one gives their heart, or at least it is for me. This may hint that I am light-years away from spiritual mastery, or it may simply hint toward my frail human form. Oddly enough, even as I walk steadily down my spiritual path, I do not see this human characteristic as flawed. It simply is what it is. In these matters, from onset of the desire, there is an outcome for which one is most hoping. When asking someone to accompany them, there is an innate hope the invitation will be accepted. When a kiss is offered, there is a deep wish their lips will be well received. And when extending one’s heart, the desire is that within warm, safe hands their heart will be held. It’s apparent that attachment to the outcome is formed directly on the heels of the desire when it comes to romantic love. And when the desired outcome does not manifest, its anything but a binky inducing moment.

I believe with all my being this is why matters of the heart are usually the one’s that cause us the most pain. Even without walking down the center of a deliberate spiritual path, one’s heart sits at the center of one’s inner being. In that respect it is almost easier to extend one’s heart, without expectation, to people the world over, to teach, to heal, to love, than it is to extend it to one person with the unintentional expectation that they will embrace it, nurture it, and treasure it.

Easier to give your heart to many, than to give your heart to one. The great sages knew this. But then again, even though I’m learning the ways of the one’s that practiced this, I’ve never been one to take the easier path.


Foo Fighters – Resolve



For much of my life, I’ve been engaged in battle. The worst, was the battle against myself. One can easily drown in their discontent. Like a violent wave, it can pull them under. But there are those who walk into the deep water; as they do, filling their coat pockets with stones: heavy memories, bitter disappointments, and painful insecurities. Once under, some kick violently to reach the surface; others relinquish the fight. I chose to shed the heavy coat, and in the doing, I shed the stones.

Upon reading my words, or upon hearing me speak, it is known instantly, I do not  bury myself under a coat or shroud of any kind. There is no mask or pretense. Although protective, I live quite exposed; my true self revealed through words, spoken or written. Swimming underwater, I said goodbye to all that weighed me down, and the need to be anything other than me.

My life isn’t quite how I want it to be – but after many battles – I am. And from that vantage point I write; content with myself, both the good and the seemingly bad. Because both, its fair to say, form the buoy.

The opening from my latest novel: Safe People.

Chapter 1

Bertie stood naked. Mimicking her motionless frame, her mind remained unmoving. As the hot water showered over her body, she inhaled the steam, and exhaled tired breath. For the moment, she didn’t think of the past, nor of the future. And after escaping into the gentle spaces of mental inertia, she looked down and wondered what was worse: the scars she wore on the outside, or the ones she tried to hide on the inside. 

Post written to: Walk by Foo Fighters

No Way Back From Here


The power of the written word can not be underestimated. When those words are set into motion, propelled by rhythm, the energy that is life takes form. That is why music touches the soul. Within the right song, invisible energy, becomes tangible and textured. Finally, we are able to feel it.

When thoughts are fixed and unshakable, music can enter in, and transform a hardened mind into the free-flowing mechanism it was meant to be. Like a spotlight, a certain song casts its glow, and reveals a life that’s walking the wrong path. I experienced such a song. Once it entered my life, everything changed.

Written words, such as these here, are like therapy; they touch the mind by slowly allowing the reader to think inward. Music, is like a drug that penetrates quickly.

No one but me knew the working’s of my mind at that time. No one but me knew the demons resting inside me. And yet, a simple song, put words to what I hadn’t wanted to say.

Lately, I’ve been

Living in my head

The rest of me is dead

I’m dying for truth

I can think of no one, other than myself, who knows why those words spoke to me as they did. Yet, like medicine, the energy within that song resonated so deeply within me, I stopped walking the road I had been on. And like medicine that enables an ill patient to regain their strength, that song empowered me to live the life of my choosing. I began writing my first novel that day. For once, the ground beneath my feet felt right. This was not an impetuous choice. It was a choice my soul made years prior; even when my mind had resisted. The soul always knows where it needs to go. The road may be uncertain, but when it feels right, there’s no looking back, and there’s no better place to be.

This world will always require medication. Whether from wrong choices, ill-fated decisions or inner struggles that tether us to a place we no longer want to be – regardless of the reason, we all need to be healed.

Aptly enough, the name of that song was: No Way Back.


Stronger Than You Think


Some people are stronger than others – this is obvious. But I have to wonder what it is that creates this internal, emotional fortitude in one but not the other.

Maybe one’s character can’t develop unless put to the challenge. I’d say that were true; noting all those that have risen from adversity to become awe-inspiring individuals. Yet, for every one of those, there are ten or more coming from the same adversity that didn’t develop in the same way. Two people, cornered with the same problem; one braces and stands tall; the other squirrels around, lashes out and does every fear based absurd action  possible.

Perhaps conditions, good or bad, have little to do with one’s internal strength. Instead, there’s something beyond the visible that holds the answer.

I’m more inclined to believe the latter, as I’ve watched two seemingly similar people, with similar upbringing and lifestyles, respond in contrast to the same issue. One is firm, while the other crumbles. I suppose the best of the lot would be those already in tune with their inner strength, that went on to endure an uneasy road; the adversity only adding to their emotional muscle.

My father, the wonderful yet troubled man that he was, struggled unmercifully to be strong. His knee jerk reaction to life was to feel despair. And yet, I see so many that have gone through far worse than the disappointing life my father was given. Nazi camp survivors, rape victims, those who’ve had everything brutally ripped from their lives; within those groups, are a few that grew in strength even at the hand of such atrocity.

As hard as my life has been at times, I’ve never felt I could complain, as others have endured far worse. The human spirit, I feel, is what gives us our strength. We all have it. Some tap into it, others fail to know they even have this divine well-house of personal strength and operate solely using their external, physical and mental senses and abilities. There’s a line from a song that describes the power of the inner spirit well: “It’s my turn, this soul won’t burn, so throw me into the fire.” The part of us that doesn’t burn and never changes; the part of us that sits above the fear, the worry, the insecurity – it is there – where our strength can be found. But to go there, one has to set aside all the emotions that make up so much of who we are. I tap into that place often. I’m having to tap into it right now. At times I wonder if it will get tapped out. But so far, it seems to be just as strong as it’s always been.


Written to: These Days by Foo Fighters