Liz’s Sun

purple doorI went back through the early days of Liz’s Letting ME Be. She started her blog way, way back on July 24, 2005. I don’t know if history was recorded back then. She started with a post that created the heart of a blog, around which her name has become as well known and comforting as a bloggers gets.

That first post was called, Breathing Room. It included a wonderful line at the end, which I have pasted above my screen to remind me everyday.

Sometimes I have to remind myself to breathe.

I need to find more ways just to be. Not a philosophical search for existence, “to be or not to be,” but ways to set down my cares and breathe in a bit of life. My soul needs airing out now and then to fill itself up again. Unlike my body, it can’t get by on peanut butter sandwiches and milk. It needs trees, flowers, and the night sky, especially the night sky—stars to wish upon and space to let my mind wander aimlessly.

When I give my soul a little breathing room . . . everyone I know gets nicer.

Though it’s a post, and not officially a comment, this little gem deserves to be in the Glittering Commentari.

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Slipping into something more comfortable

no referrerAhh. To come home from a day dressed in gray and brown tailored discretion, bow-tied determination and tight decision making shoes–It’s so nice to slip out of those disguises and don something a little more comfortable.

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I strip down to my naked, soft heart, unbutton my presumptions, throw my judgments in the dirty laundry and shower away layers of discrepancies. My favorite part is soaking in a nice warm bath of gratitude and forgiveness. There’s nothing quite like it to soothe the tired soul.

Slice

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This moment slices through all time, a slab of breath, the azure of those eyes, the dancing molecules of her hair’s herbal air curving around his mind. There will be no other so ripe as this thin film, sliding through him as he stands absolutely still in the dark, drizzling rain.

The Question

no refererHe sat, motionless,
Veined alabaster marble,
Staring through a crystal ball,
Casing the scene, waiting for the
Answer, or another start.
Warm water had rinsed
Clean all childhood dreams and
Cleared his heart. His
Chest ended sighs, void of
Burdens they had shared
Days ago, as his last ploy
Pushed them apart, perhaps with
Intent to shield ignorant flesh from
Shattering fragments, atomic breath.
“I know you don’t love me” uttered
Callously, through stoic glare.

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