Mountains

I hope I always live within the mountains-held and protected on all sides.

Guarded from the outside world and supported with each sunrise.


Safe within cupped hands, the mountains Rise, like fingers around me.

My bowl of protection, yet allowing me to roam, safe and free.


I reside, always watched under their careful, strong gaze.

May they always surround all of my days.


Not the jagged, too tall kind.

But the rolling green kind, that you can only find.


Where the green trees take root and the Earth protrudes, beginning again as another one ends.

The mountains my forever majestic, safe, loving friends.

Spring

Spring into something colorful, beautiful, miraculous, and magical

Spring into a life that is worth all the fanciful

Living and breathing that is done in a life well-lived

Spring into manifestation

The colors that can grow only from patience

From time that is spent carefully sowing seeds

As the bulbs manifest their sprouts and roots from deep beneath the earth

So too can we spring from the depths of our hearts

Even when buried so deep beneath the ruins of the winter that has finally past

We grow-unbound, unplanned, unscathed by that which lays ahead

Unafraid of that which we push off of us in order to make room and tread

The path that is yet to unfold

Our petals unfurling in the fresh, crisp wind

The frozen particles coming to an end

We spring forth with abundance, peace, joy

For the path of unfurling is springing forth our story

Blues and Greens

We hibernate and look inwards

Ask ourselves the questions that we know all to well

Wonder at the swirling of the thoughts that swell

Around our heads and hearts

We meditate, we breathe

In our search for answers

Grasping at what might give us pleasures

We walk the path alone

One foot at a time we move

We examine the roads that diverge

Ask ourselves if we should swerve

Or stay steady on the trail we walk

The trees open up to beautiful colors of greens and blues

The trail we walk is orange and yellow

We wonder as the storms bellow

How to find our way to the colors of oceans

The waves traverse the path we travel and those that lie ahead

We can’t help but wander and look

To see if the ocean makes us unstuck

And how we can unstick the energy that sits

The yellows and oranges will always be here and we ask ourselves if we can face our fear

Do we leave the warmth of the sun for the unknown ocean waves

Or do we sit in the comfort of the known for a few more days

The blues and greens await.

Words We Choose

One of my good friends is a words girl like me.  She has words all over her house as mental reminders of the signs she actually wants to pay attention to and what words she actually wants to let into her soul.  One walk through her house and you’d probably feel as if you knew her pretty well already-or at least a feeling of the warmth of her soul.  You’d learn she loves dogs and if you don’t like them, she’d be happy to “put you outside.”  You’d learn she believes in “the power of stillness and trusting yourself,” in going out and playing instead of staying in “to clean, as boring women do.”  You’d find yourself being reminded to “breathe and let go” and “trust in yourself and love who you are.”  I find these words so interesting because if you spend only a few minutes with this friend of mine, you would see that she truly radiates all of these things that are posted throughout her house.  They truly embody who she is, and she has consciously chosen to live by them.

As a writer and a reader, I pick up this trait pretty easily as well–decorating with words that is.  One walk throughout my house and you are reminded to “live fully, breathe deeply, love madly,” “put your hair up, drink some coffee, and deal with it,” that “good things take time” and “you are powerful, beautiful, brilliant and brave.”  You’ll even find a silly picture of a cow with flowers strung all throughout her hair reminding you that “life is beautiful.”  Then if you need an extra pick-me-up, you can open my three-door kitchen cabinets to a ridiculous amount of coffee cups for one human person to own, and choose any number of inspiring quotes to match the mood you are feeling that day: everything from “do not disturb, I’m meditating” to “believe there is a lesson for those who are willing to see.”  I have loaded my house with arsenals of words at every corner, ready to pick you up at a moment’s notice and remind you of your truth.

While these reminders are good for the soul and empowering to the mind if I actually take the time to read them each day and acknowledge their presence while I brush my teeth in the morning and really meditate on the fact that, “today is a new day,” I too many times find myself not even acknowledging them at all.  I begin to question, “How often do I actually utilize these sources of truth around me anyways?  What was the freaking point of all these WORDS if I’m not even going to read them?”  And too many times, I’m frightened by my own choice to (instead of reading the uplifting quote by the sweet beautiful cow with flowers) read the negative looming signs I have chosen to hang inside my brain that morning or whenever it is, as I go about my day.  

Much like our physical homes, we decorate our mind’s homes–our soul’s homes.  We decorate them with what is important to us, the things we believe about ourselves, our lives, and the pages of our life story.  If we aren’t careful, those signs can quickly go from colorful, uplifting, spirit nourishment to dark, sideways, upside down, looming “eek–run! Haunted house ahead!”  If you’re like me, there are times when you walk through your mind’s home and you want to quickly put a “do not disturb sign” on your door for else your negative home energy seeps out into the world and infects anyone else, or worse allows some poor unsuspecting soul to come in.

A good litmus test I’ve discovered for myself: If the silly cow with flowers on her head wouldn’t say the words on the sign in your mind’s home out loud-you should probably take them down off your mind’s walls.  I mean really, who would buy a sign from the store to hang on their wall that said, “You are doing a horrible job at everything.  What you do doesn’t matter”?  None of us who have a heart of any kind would say those words aloud to our own best friend or really even our enemies, hopefully.  So, they probably shouldn’t be on the signs in our mind’s “home” either. Words are a powerful thing, and we have to start changing the signs that are not only in our “home” home but in our mind’s home.

So here is my hope from me to you, from one words girl to another (as I’m sure most of you reading are): Start taking down the SCARY signs of doom that are hanging in your mind’s home.  If your best friend wouldn’t say it to you and neither would the silly cow with flowers in her hair, it’s not serving you.  Take it down, remove the nails, and spackle the wall.  Hang up a new sign.  Perhaps borrow a quote from one of your coffee cups or one of those silly signs they hang in the school hallways (if you are a teacher like me).  Damn, those signs are inspirational: “be your best self, don’t be afraid to be you, creativity is in all of us, and Girl, YOU MATTER.” 

Decorate like you’ve never decorated before!  Make it Christmas, Halloween (except leave the scary ones out), Easter, and Valentine’s Day.  Hang all the signs and the decorations you have.  Except, make it the holiday for you!  Your mind’s “home” is supposed to be celebrating YOU.  Make sure the words you’ve chosen to decorate with are abiding by the rules.  Use the colors, and say your mantras so many times they get engraved in the walls.  Forget that it ever was a scary frightening place with cobwebs and crazy, lunatic-like thoughts.  And, when every once in a while the cobwebs appear in your beautifully decorated corners, as they do because we are all only human, do your spring cleaning and dust your mind’s home.  Redecorate with the strength, the truth, and the beautiful bright color that is you.

Peace and Love and as always, a hope that you are uplifted and encouraged to “be the beautiful you that you already are.”  You got this girl.

Love,

Lauren

Blues and Greens

We hibernate and look inwards

Ask ourselves the questions that we know all to well

Wonder at the swirling of the thoughts that swell

Around our heads and hearts

We meditate, we breathe

In our search for answers

Grasping at what might give us pleasures

We walk the path alone

One foot at a time we move

We examine the roads that diverge

Ask ourselves if we should swerve

Or stay steady on the trail we walk

The trees open up to beautiful colors of greens and blues

The trail we walk is orange and yellow

We wonder as the storms bellow

How to find our way to the colors of oceans

The waves traverse the path we travel and those that lie ahead

We can’t help but wander and look

To see if the ocean makes us unstuck

And how we can unstick the energy that sits

The yellows and oranges will always be here and we ask ourselves if we can face our fear

Do we leave the warmth of the sun for the unknown ocean waves

Or do we sit in the comfort of the known for a few more days

The blues and greens await.

Redwoods

~~Redwood trees often sprout as “tree circles” or “tree families.” From one giant, strong, beautiful tree will sprout a ring of baby trees around it, with soft, delicate, newly formed green leaves. Often times, a baby tree will sprout right out of the side of an existing tree’s trunk instead of simply rising from the soil at its feet.

On the rare occasions that Redwoods are unable to withstand a fire, their destruction serves as a beautiful new beginning for baby trees to sprout. It much resembles a picture of rebirth springing from a graveyard in every which possible direction.

Once Redwoods have forged their own roots, they are wise beyond their years, as they rely not simply on their own strength, but will reach to great lengths to find the roots of their nearby Redwoods, grasp hands, and intertwine themselves to stay grounded in the soil of this beautiful Earth.

Redwood Forrest, Santa Cruz

Like the Redwood trees we sprout 

Sometimes from other trees around us 

And sometimes from solely within ourselves

~~

We grab hold to the branches of the other trees below

Deep in the soil beneath the flow 

Of all that is good and dangerous and real

~~

We hold tight to anything that can help us feel

The roots below us like earthly reminders

We are not solely of ourselves but of each other 

~~

For the roots of our tree family and our tree friends

Support our trunk, our leaves, our branches

We sway and shimmy and withstand the storms

Stand not any shorter from the fires that roar

~~

We rage and are beautiful at each moment

Surpassing the weather of time

We grow not in a straight line

But the line of those before us

Forging a path that is uniquely our own

Hold onto the branches deep below

~~

We find a crooked path that reaches the sun

Let water feed our rings and grow even just one more

We are a part of the Earth, this beauty, this world

We grasp the roots of those below us 

as our effervescence is unfurled

Waves

Rising waves and crashing tides

Just like the seasons of our lives

We rise above

And sink below

~~

There is no absolute high

No absolute low

The middle ground is far between from things too beautiful and things unseen

~~

The tides surge on

And we straddle the surf unstable

Unwilling to admit of what we are and are not able

~~

We continue on for each sunrise

Amazed at the beauty that crosses our eyes

That sadness follows the surging highs 

Back to the beauty and wonderment of grandeur size 

~~

The colors of this life are vibrant and dull

Colorful and gray

And sometimes full

Yet the oranges and reds and greens and blues 

resurface with the swelling and creation of the sand dunes

~~

We smile and revel in moments of happiness

Thankful for the light and life that is a mess 

The beauty of imperfection is aww inspiring and overcoming

Each moment is fleeting 

And each light becoming. 

Paths

On rare occasions we are blessed with a day that shows us the many paths we chose not to take
The ticket reel plays before our eyes
And we must bare to see it no matter how hard not to we try

The turn left signs blink before us in neon green and bright pink
wondering why you didn't choose them

The billboards fly by of those you literally left behind and chose not to bring with you
the ones that didn't know you at all but tempted you just the same

The literal past stays stagnant, exactly as it was
as you have the luxury of driving through
seeing all that you chose to leave in the past

A part of you, never changing, but behind you in the rear view, broken by the glass
we choose not to look back.

The field glimmers with that choice you chose not to make,
the places you walked away from
when everything was at stake

The buildings you walked out of and never once looked back,
stay standing in real life even though you thought for sure you left them in your past.

They still exist in the present, those lives and choices, and people, and passions and livelihoods you didn't choose.
They exist in the present and it's hard to fathom.
Those choices you left behind still existing with abandon.

They exist in the present almost to remind you once more
How far you've come and how much you've changed
How the past has been hard but your heart has stayed the same

How the signs have blared loudly and brightly at times,
and you may have veered right or left along the lines,
But you found your way back to the path that was yours,
squiggly and turning and jagged some more

You came back to that path that is uniquely your own
You made it through the temptations, the lessons, the storms
You survived the chaos and the mess you sometimes created
You returned to the path you know you needed

You stayed true to yourself and your soul within
Followed your heart and your mind on the paths you were given

You emerged once more in the other side
Stricken and strong and completely alive.

In the Midnight Library

Books sit on shelves waiting for us to seek them

Pages turning, yet never being read

Untold stories, never spoken, never said

 

For when the words are spoken aloud and the pages opened for good

The stories can live out and the regrets are yet no longer understood

 

The Book of Regrets sits wide and heavy

Yet pages fly out when we say we are ready

To explore the library of books and Choices

 

Of that which we did not choose

That which the readers are too scared to peruse

 

Sitting in the Library, waiting for us to see

the multitude of lives we lived but didn’t set us free

the Lives that stayed parallel to that which rooted us

 

Those things that we thought of but didn’t speak too loud

Those things that haunted us and kept us from being proud

 

The Midnight library sits and waits wondering what we’ll choose

What we’ll leave past its due date

How long until we open it, the story that will make us happy

 

The Book of Regrets sits waiting in suspense

Watching as we go back and forth in a trance

 

What books do we need to open?  

Do we need to finally see?

What infinity of books are sitting, seeking, waiting for me.

The Midnight Library is a must-read, a soul-searching book that will truly heal your soul and spirit. When Nora decides she no longer wants to live, she ends up in the Midnight Library–a Library full of the books of all the lives Nora never chose to live. Nora is blessed with the opportunity to choose from any of the infinite books that sit on the shelves, and figure out what will truly make her happy.

The Midnight Library exists for all of us–every day, every minute. What story have you not chosen for yourself, that you need to pick up and start reading today? You don’t have to live in the fictional novel to visit the Midnight Library. You can choose to go there yourself, to start writing the story of the life you want to live. The Book of Regrets is written by you. You can choose to write in it, or you can choose to write the story of the Life that Makes You Happy.

Mystical Calm

Mystical Calm

Midnight Madness
Sparking fireflies 
Frantic sadness

Planting seeds
Uprooting the earth 
Finding a way to explain your worth

Creating circles
Colliding in others’
Wondering how to seek one another 

Keeping the calm and searching the mind
Hunting for a sparkling find
Changing your mind one at a time

Undoing the past just to do it again
Listening in the silence and finding a friend
Sitting in the gusting whirlwinds 

Sea of calm amidst the hurricane 
A heart unproven and unashamed
Waiting for the storm to settle that never ceases

Confident in itself and each of its pieces
Mystical in its glory
Magical in its being 

It sits and it moves nonetheless 
While the storm rages on in its restlessness