Archive | June, 2010

Peanut Butter & Jelly.

26 Jun


When I am with you, we stay up all night.

When you’re not here, I can’t go to sleep.

Praise God for these two insomnias!

And the difference between them.


The minute I heard my first love story

I started looking for you, not knowing

how blind that was.

Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere.

They’re in each other all along.


The word soul speaks to that space inside each of us that we cannot physically see or touch. It is the center of emotions and conscience. That magical place where we are entirely at home. A mate is both a noun and verb. Noun: the mate of a shoe, the First Mate on a ship. Couples with the other to create a pair, a team. The verb: the action of joining together, becoming one.

Soulmate. The person who speaks to the deepest part of me. The one who fills the sacred space. A complement, a hand to fill the spaces between fingers.

I am autonomous. I have an identity, a strength, a personality. Yet, there is a person who also makes me feel whole. How do you reconcile the two? One doesn’t negate the truth of the other. They are simultaneous. Rumi fits it together. “Lovers don’t meet somewhere. They’re in each other all along.”

It seems like a movie phrase, “It was meant to be, all along,” or “I knew it, all along…” But maybe there’s more truth to it than we account for. It gives explanation to that funny feeling I get when things fit just too perfectly. When shared thoughts and beliefs become too coincidental. When you think about the other person & your phone rings. When you turn your head to tell them something and they speak it back to you.

Connection. Love. Soul. Heart.

We belong together.


Mysticism, Love, and Inspiration

24 Jun

You know the feeling of inspiration?

I wish I could say I felt it more often. Sometimes it’s a fleeting second in a day, when I realize how blessed I am. Sometimes it’s the amount of time it takes to hear a beautiful piece of music. I find it in staring into artwork that at the same time amazes and confuses me. I find it in a baby’s laugh, PostSecret cards on Sundays, and in things that amuse me.

And last night, I found it in the poetry of Rumi. If you don’t know who that is, you can read a little of his biography here (I know it’s Wikipedia, but I read over it, and it’s pretty legit.).

Here’s a quote from the translator who introduces the book:

“The Hebrew word, makom, refers to the sacred as a location. One can live in the heart. Rumi’s odes speak from there and invite us in as though to a galactic residence of interiority. I felt drawn to the vast beauty of that…His presence and his poetry was, and is, inclusive, allied with the impulse to praise and recognize every being and every moment as sacred. Interfaith hardly reaches the depth of his connecting. Rumi speaks from the clear bead at the center.

I spent an hour last night completely entranced with his words, and more time this morning. Sometimes I completely connect with his metaphors, other times they confuse me or don’t quite fit. But that’s the beauty of it. So here is one of my favorites:


Inside this new love, die.

Your way begins on the other side.

Become the sky.

Take an axe to the prison wall.


Walk out like someone suddenly born into color.

Do it now.

You’re covered with thick cloud.

Slide out the side. Die,

and be quiet. Quietness is the surest sign

that you’ve died.

Your old life was a frantic running

from silence.

The speechless full moon

comes out now.

Who Even Knows?

23 Jun

I hate getting gas. I always have. Tonight is a prime example of the ridiculous reasons as to why I hate it.

For one, the little door on my gas tank gets stuck sometimes, so that when I pull the lever inside my car, nothing happens. Of course, that happened tonight. After about 5 minutes of fiddling with it, I called my dad to ask him how he helped me fix it last time, and after 5 more minutes on the phone, was instructed to ask someone to press on the door to help it engage, and therefore unlock.

I asked the guy at the next pump to help me, and he graciously agreed. I tossed my credit card into my car in order to walk over to him and ask, and when we both walked back to my car, I pulled the lever while he fiddled with the door, and a minute later, it popped open.

I leaned back into my car to grab my card, to pay for my gas, and guess what? Yep, it’s gone. So naturally, I begin methodically searching the car. I lean the seats forward and backward. I check under all of the mats, in between the seats, between the seats & the console, in the glove box (who knows why I thought it could’ve been in there), down INSIDE the emergency break (which by the way, I would not advise sticking your hand all the way down inside. I got it semi-stuck while I was driving and had a tiny panic attack.).  I looked under the car, around the pump. Everywhere. As I was walking around looking like a dumbass, the man who had pulled up to the closest pump during my whole ordeal asked what happened & also helped me look.

Finally, after 15 minutes of searching, I gave up. The only problem with this is that A) I didn’t find my card, B) I have no gas, and C) Even when I do find my card (which I’m assuming will happen eventually), the door will still be stuck, so I’ll have to start the whole process over again.

How do these things happen to me?