Lost and Found

All my limbs can become trees:

It’s like being lost and becoming found,

all in one brief moment of stillness.

Having the world at your weathered fingertips

but clenching your fist instead

in the hopes of holding onto a feeling.

It’s when I breathe deep, and you

You are at the end of my breath.

Returning it to me, filling me up.

Extracting any air of emptiness

Consuming a void I didn’t know I’d had

Taking a trip to a place that only exists in an alternate universe,

where I am floating through time with no relativity

And you return to me, your breath.

Inflating my lungs

It’s a century, if just for a second

A world of questions answered in a mystery unsolved.

It’s a kiss

Strong enough to lose yourself in,

safe enough still

to have become found.


The Karma Series – Law Two

Manifest...The Universe is constantly creating. With our every thought we add to that creation. May we always create that which is beautiful, joyful and loving.:


The Karma Series

2. The Law of Creation

“Life doesn’t just happen, it requires our participation. We are one with the Universe both inside and out. Whatever surrounds us gives us clues to our inner state. BE and DO yourself what you want to have in your life.”

My biggest fear in life is that I will get to a point when I am much, much older that I will not be able to do the things I have always loved. Life is a beautiful opportunity, and we are given life with the expectation that we make it to be everything it should possibly be. We can do this simply by doing the things that we love. When we are doing these things, whether we are doing them perfectly or we are just doing them for the sake of doing them, we are still PARTICIPATING. When we participate in things that shake our souls, motivate us and make us feel inspired and at peace we are in turn giving that positive energy to the world around us. The people surrounding us can feed off those wavelengths, and be motivated by your passion. Be passionate. Choose to create as often as possible.

The universe will thank you.

Pine Floors and Broken Doors

broken door

Pine Floors and Broken Doors

who are you when the lights go down

and all thats left are the shadows of your thoughts

and the aftermath of sudden dreams

who are you when im not there to pretend for

and will you expose that when the sun comes out

and begs for you to dance among the earths hidden edges

where were you when the rain fell, through the leaves of pine trees

through the openings in clouds so dense,

they covered the skies, as you run for cover

inside a house that consumes all your fear,

yet hides you behind broken doors

what are you dreaming about when the night moves in

slowly, and demanding, asking you for all your sins

who are you when im not there,

asking you for more

when the sky grows bleak, and your heart trembles in your chest

who are you then?

what are your thoughts when your surroundings surround nothing

but yourself, and will you show me that, will you let me in?

because I’m standing at the door to all your secrets,

just wanting and wanting more,

but i wont knock for a chance to get in,

unless you’re absolutely sure

your nightmares wont scare me the way they have scared the ones before,

and i was hoping that you knew that

i was hoping you would explore,

the depths of us and the depths of your body’s purest core

because you are to me, a mystery

with dog-eared pages, and highlighted phrases,

in order to understand you more

so who are you when all thats left to know,

is the you that sleeps inside the nights new skies,

and leaves me at the door.

Being Okay

make a wish

I knew it would get better. I knew it had to get better, and the funny part about it this time is that I recognized it when it did. Not slowly, not in the midst of it all, but all at once.

All at once it was okay, and all at once it was great. And there were nights in between that weren’t and there were days in the middle that were not. But then all at once, it was there. That feeling that is not really a feeling at all, that feeling of pure “okay-ness” that is so okay it goes unnoticed. That simply because it is just so unmoving it gets no attention. But it should, we should pay more attention to being okay.

We should pay more attention to not fighting a breaking heart, to being tired at the end of a day because we worked so eagerly at something we loved, we should acknowledge the presence of a conversation that may not be intriguing, but it is good and kind and easy. We should, I should, not always give so much weight to the times that are un-okay and start thanking our lucky stars for the okay moments. The moments that do not need to be spectacular, that you do not want to be spell-binding, they may be more important than the big ones.

There is something special about something being so easy that it is not thought about. Looking back, these may be the exact moments that brought us long term happiness. Not something that is so outstanding it seems to make you euphoric for a short amount of time, but the little things that group together in your life to become a world that is good. A world of good feelings, a world of waking up in the morning with hope for the new day.

We should acknowledge being a bit frustrated with the way things are, because in that is the motivation to change it. It is not unhappiness, it is drive to make things better. It is strength to recognize that we are not at the end of our rope, that our okay-ness, our being, is possible.

But all of the sudden, when we are okay, it may not feel like much but it is a lot. It is a great thing to be okay. It is a great thing to be at peace with the way things are, and the way they will go, and the way you feel. And all at once, when you are least expecting it, it happens.

All at once, it happens.

Endless Youth

I grew up wandering in the grass surrounding the brown cedar rancher my parents decided to buy when I was five years old. Despite some of the turmoil in the midst of my youngest years, I always look back on these days with a fond sense of whimsy. I remember how long summer vacations seemed, how endless and full of discovery those three months were.

There were days full of digging up worms, and naming them of course. Planting flowers in the garden with mom, and listening to her tell me the names of all of them. Trying desperately, to remember those names and to know more about them.

Children, are so very curious. Even back then, I wanted to know everything, I wanted to understand the world I walked on in bare feet. I wanted to be close to it, and I was. In the early summer, I would walk down the very long and wooded trail deep in our back yard. On the lucky days, I would find the creek dried up under a makeshift bridge. I think it was a piece of plywood looking back, but in my young eyes it could have been the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. It could have been the bridge to the rest of the world. When it was dried up, those were the best days. It meant I could wander down the creek, walk its windy ways and jump over the giant roots of pine trees when I came across them. I never knew then how much that trail would teach me.

I never knew that while I was climbing trees, following trails and finding the differences in flowers that I was becoming the young woman I am today. Full of questions and wonderment, full of lust for what is around me and what is ahead of me. Never afraid to take the next step. Because I knew that even if I must find my footing on a large fallen tree, I could trust that what I found once I got over it was always worth the climb. I knew at the end of the day that home was just down a scenic path and that I would find my way back no matter how far I went. I didn’t know then that I was setting the theme of my life.

I remember my dad, cleaning out the gutters when that time of year came. I would see the ladder to the roof on the deck, and know that up there was danger. But I could climb it if I was given the okay… and on the days that he let me it was great. I would take this journal I had found at a yard sale with my mom one Sunday. The print on the outside cover was floral, and faded, something you might see on an old couch your grandmother has been trying to get rid of for years. There was a little loop on the cover that you could put a lock and key through. Luckily at six years old I had no need for that amount of privacy. I had no secrets then, and honestly, I don’t have too many now. I’d take a pencil and that journal with me, I adored that book. Sitting next to a skylight, watching the trees and the big blue sky, I started writing. My first poem was called “Trees.” I never stopped writing after that. It has been a constant in my life ever since.

I’m not sure what inspired me to write this, maybe it was just having some appreciation for the “good ol’ days” but I also think it has to do with the importance that I believe is held in a small child’s heart and mind. We become people, so much sooner than I think our parents could ever imagine. We see things through such pure eyes. I am very glad that I have been able to keep some of that with me, that I still have the wonder and zest of that little girl willing to discover whatever was put in front of her. Being in touch with your inner child in such a grown up and fast paced world can really help to balance you, to keep you imaginative. After all, what’s so good about being a grown up anyway?

Are We Finding Or Creating Ourselves?

Let me start by saying I owe this question to my best friend, Cara. We are two, wildly independent young women, we do everything together, we have goals, ambitions, and we love men. But we don’t like them to get in our way.

While Cara and I are uniquely similar, more similar than anyone in the world I have met, we are not best friends because of our similarities. We are best friends thanks to our differences. I never quite knew what made us different, we were always on the same wavelength but at times, not in sync. Maybe she discovered something later than I did, maybe I discovered something in a different way than she did. But we still understood. So until the other night I really never understood what it was that made us so impeccably unalike.

Then there it was, in here room, staring at me. Bold letters in white writing on a black background. “Life is not about finding yourself, it is about creating yourself.”

I knew then, the exact reason why we are different. In each move I make, in every mistake, in every accomplishment, I believe at the core of me that this happened in order for me to learn. It happened because I needed it to, because I needed to know more about myself, I needed to find myself in a different situation, in a different atmosphere. I needed to know what I would be like, anywhere, and I needed to know what place and mindset was best suited for me. I accept things because I deem them as necessary.

Creating yourself not he other hand is very different, I can’t speak for her, but when I think of creating myself I think of making things happen. In each move she makes, there is a motive, in every mistake, she feels as though it comes straight back to something that she did, along with every accomplishment. So there is guilt, but there is also pride. Maybe her belief, at her core, is not that “this happened because she needed it to” but “I owe all of this to myself and what I have created.” On the one hand, its amazing. I’m envious. I wish I took credit for all of my accomplishments, I wish I could tell myself “good job.” On the downside, what about the mistakes? What about, blaming yourself for something out of your control? On the other hand, is that more self-awareness? Is she more conscious of the things she has done incorrectly, whereas I may be pawning them off as something out of my control?

I was thinking about it a lot tonight, and I don’t quite think it matters. Maybe it takes finding yourself, in order to create the self that you should be in the end. And maybe it takes creating the wrong self a few times, before you find your “true” self. I think there are a lot of things about this belief, that make us intrinsically different. However, I also believe that the true and admirable friendship we share is born on the fact that no matter what she believes, or I believe, each of us can see things with an open-mind. After all, it could be one way or it could be the other. But I think that whether you find, or create yourself, where you truly find who you are is in the compromise you make for the people you love. The empathy you have for those around you, no matter how they differ. We may not always see eye to eye, we may not always see the same picture, but we are still willing to understand the other ones perspective.

What a wonderful world it would be if more of us could do that. So what do you think, are we searching through the world looking for who we may be? Or are we making ourselves and our beliefs as we go? You tell me.



One Big FML

My week, past two weeks really have just been one awkward fuck my life moment after the next.

But it kind of made me even happier because the more I thought about it the funnier it was.

Like how I’m poor so I drove to Salisbury to sell some old clothes and ended up just spending more money in gas.

Or how this Indian guy hacked my computer and I was like, why me? So i actually typed “why are you hacking me?” on my computer… and the hacker responded. Then there was that awkward moment where I encountered the last person I ever wanted to encounter while I was having a terrible day at work. And then I thought I was getting robbed for all I have, but it was actually just my drunk friends trying to kidnap me. Then, there was finding out I have a court date to testify against some perv-y creep and it just so happens its the second week after starting my new job. Not to mention I am officially becoming a low life and moving back in with my parents. Oh yeah and I realized that there is just no one who is going to be him.

But all of these unexpected things, they threw me off, they came out of nowhere, and some of them just downright pissed me off. To be honest though, I enjoyed it. It was nice to feel something again. It was nice to actually be overwhelmed and be like, you know what? It is fucking okay that I am a little overwhelmed.

I think the reason I get so stressed out is because I don’t let myself just get pissed off, and then get over it. I’m constantly like “okay you have got to be the bigger person, nothing phases you, there’s no reason for this to bother you.” Well… my life is nuts. It’s chaotic. And it always has been. I can be as “Namaste” as I like, but at the end of the day, this is it. This always has been it, and it’s never going to be easy and be butterflies and flowers because I would really fucking hate that.

I’d rather be busy than bored. I would rather be thriving and struggling and figuring it out and getting myself out of situations that are uncomfortable, and just rolling with the punches and working with what I’ve got than have it all figured it out.

Why would I ever want to figure it all out? Why would I ever want to feel comfortable?

Where the hell is the fun in that?

xoxo, Shel.