A Spoken word poem by a good friend

On the rare occasion I have words.
When I was a teen I use to write half of what I thought, crumple it up and throw it away.
I never could quite get out what I felt .
And I burnt a lot of those half journal entries in a moment of purging myself of a really hard time of my life. That felt good. It still does. I am glad I did it.
Expression is a miracle to me.
Like a gift from heaven that I receive from God himself.
So when I have a song, or poem or a note to play that feels organic to the expression of an emotion I feel, I am overcome with elation. I can imagine it would be a similar yet much less tangible feeling as to giving birth. Although I have not experienced that .
Birthing words hurts. And when it happens in truth and honesty I feel joy.

I am thankful for songs and words that other people have. Especially when I can't find my own.
They make me feel connected to the human race. Expression does that.
Recently my friend Matthew Davidson member of the Victoria spoken word Slam team wrote this poem.
I connect with this poem. Or more over this poem connects with me....
And therefore I wanted to share it with you....


CONFESSION.      By. Matthew Christopher. Davidson.

I keep watching you fall apart

watching your freckles turn to shine like tiny pebbles 

washed in small rivers that wind across your face

every time you begin to open

with broken battle-cries your brave words false start

your heart cracks

and honesty always straight-smack dissolves you in the end

when you drizzle into wet confusion, 

waterfall into unexpected confessions

that leave you wondering where the safe places are 

because you can't even keep your own secrets in your head

can't silence these lines around your eyes broadcasting sadness

so who the hell else can you trust to wrap your 

darkness in warm cover under blazing tabloid madness, 

with gossip running brazen and flagrant through 

shock-hungry worlds like cocaine fire in our veins

but the fact is that the truth remains our anchor

keeps us grounded when bottled-up words 

would have just gotten us high on the things we kept inside, 

in those moments we should have just busted open like 

overinflated balloons but instead like kids 

we just let them float away and

so as a man I want to stand here and say

hey, don't ever stop talking

we've been walking through this cold finding heat like 

two old birds heading south and all I know right now is that

your mouth is a fault line in the universe that grace is breaking through

and you 

are the most beautiful mess I've ever known

I don't have answers to all your questions 

but the best wonders in life are made more wondrous 

by knowing you don't have to ask these things alone

and if it takes us getting messy to finally come clean 

then let's fuck that shit up, yo.  

let's roll up our sleeves and plunge our hands in dirt, 

work this ground until it bleeds out life and muddies up our shirts; 

let's swear to tell the truth no matter how much it hurts.

and when it comes to secrets 

I can't promise to keep my mouth shut; 

my tongue trips over itself in spite of myself and 

my mind is a revolving door, but I will promise you this:  

I will bury your darkness in my forgetfulness

because for every sin you've confessed 

I could confess a hundred more.

and when it comes to safety, 

I can promise that I will open my mouth wide and cover you with my words

because you are worth speaking up for.

A day of purple

I am not an activist
I don't know why.
I hate debating.
Its not that I don't believe in things strong enough to debate them.
Its just that I don't want to.
Honestly when I look at topics of debate all I keep seeing is people. Not topics.
And although debates are often in defense of people, or choices I wonder sometimes if the actual people get missed in exchange for the cause. Even if the cause is worthy.
Today I am wearing purple and doing laundry
My wardrobe is black mostly
Not because I am sad, just simply because I like it.
Purple means spirit.
Spirit by definition means many things. Here is one thing it means according to Dictionary.com. They know almost as much as Google:)

an attitude or principle that inspires, animates, or pervades thought, feeling, or action: the spirit of reform.

I don't know what I can inspire today, or if I can pervade any thought or feeling or especially action. I have taken my own action today, along with many others by changing the colour of my shirt to honor some lonely ill-treated gay teens who needed more love displayed  toward them. Enough they could feel it. More than the hate they felt from the outside, or maybe within themselves. We will never know.

I wish I could define in words how I truly feel. But words seem so feeble sometimes in expressing spirit.

Inside, the spirit in me groans.

Not for an activist stance one way or another.

Not for a debate or a cause.

But for love.

Love that is big enough to bring every single human heart to life.

Love that speaks to an invidvidual and tells that individual that they are valuable. accepted. and a neccessary part of the human race. 

The kind of love that leaves us speechless.

The kind of love where in our very cells we realize there is nothing to fear except maybe fear itself.

Fear truly is a thief.

I have had much of it. And everytime I face my fears and they have been met with love?

My fear has decreased and I have felt relief in the fact that I am not alone, and someone might understand me just a little.

Facing fear is hard.

Being vulnerable is hard.

Which is a requirement of love.

Risking mockery as a teenager because you choose to be the loving one instead of the mocking one is hard.

But my heart longs to go deeper and grasp the roots of this organic and most needed entity for life.

Attempting love, can only make us better at it.

I wonder how I can try this today?

And if you don't know it today let others know it for you.

you are valuable.

priceless even...

" lets just keep going"

"Lets just keep going"

Those are the words that keep running through my head.
Today was a weird day of work. I would say " stressful" for lack of a better word to describe serving coffee in the midst of chaos.
Add 5 am, some sickness, a dash of  "that person is crazy" and what comes out of the pot is a Venti cup of hot steaming " really? why today? your kidding me right?"
Nope. All in a days work. No big deal really.
Somewhere between highlighter man with green hair with his stalker tendencies, and " I haven't had my last break yet ..oh wait I'm off now" I started to smile.
I was thinking about why some days just seem to go from bad to worse.
Being in the service industry is funny that way because even if things are NUTS when you look someone in the eye and say " hi! how may I help you ?!" it really is your job to mean it. And I do sincerely try. ...not to lie. Except when someone asks me how my day is going and I am obligated to say GREAT when in fact I just finished thinking of 17 things that just went wrong in a row behind the scenes.
It all worked out. Last minute . Which is why they have so cleverly names it last minute.
And when all was said and done, when I thought I may have to be at work for 16 hours today I ended up leaving fifteen minutes early to make up for that break that I missed!
Really, without being in the midst it's hard to explain chaos. My own.
I am sure all who go through chaos find it hard to explain their own...
The interesting thing about it though is after all is said and done and we have faced the day with it's challenges we find out it did not kill us!
Today at least it made me realize that during times of high stress to have an outcome I must actually come out of it! PHEW! The best part of my work day today was when I got to say, " I'm OUTta here! "
And my knowing ?
                       " lets just keep going..."
                                                        
                        
        

my gut

It was pointed out to me by a friend once that every time I said I "heard something" I touched my stomach. As if my ears or brain were in my belly. Some would call this a gut instinct. For me it is the way I have operated most of my existence. Its the way I interpret sound in music. What emotion to play, how loud or soft. It is the way I navigate through decisions that are not clear sometimes. It is the way I communicate with God often. In many ways it is the only way I really know. And it is how I know....myself. And it is how I recognize pain, laughter, love and ALL SORTS of crazy things.
Other references sound like this..
" i can feeeel it"
" i dunno its just a gut?"
" my spidey senses are working"
" the holy spirit talked to me!!!"
              there are many ways to interpret this instinct.
Today I had to follow that, as I have many times before.
My gut is not always correct.
But I have found that I am better off trusting and failing, than not trusting and failing.
So I continue on...listening for the whisper of love that speaks like a whisper somewhere inside me.
There is a scientific name for this. God is cool.
It is called "the belly brain" or " the little brain"

and this is its function.
Not perfect. But SO AMAZING how many ways we can hear, listen and respond to better understand our world.
" THE BELLY BRAIN"


Its technical name is the enteric nervous system, but it is often referred to as the 'little brain.' Only it's not so little: This dense connection of nerves runs the entire length of the digestive system, from your esophagus and stomach to the small and large intestine. It's estimated that the enteric system contains over 100 million neurons. That's more than make up the spinal cord."


                                    Cool eh? :)

knowing the importance...

For those who would like to travel with me....

Humbly I post this. Knowing that for some this is a hard topic among many hard topics to discuss without debate of right and wrong. Acceptable or not. My heart has kept silent many days and years over this very personal and heart wrenching reality for many people, me included.  I post this on my blog without posting on my facebook page. For those who come here because they are interested in me, and my thoughts as small as they are...this is something that I care deeply about. Again. Not in combat or defense, but humbly from a heart who sheepishly with deep conviction speaks, knowing the importance ..... 

                                                                                         Much Love, Tanya

http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=592846987806

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