The New Site

Hi everyone...

Recently realized that I hadn't posted on here directing people to my new site.

Yes...I won't be using this blog any more. I have a site of my own now where I post. I hope you'll visit me there at www.larkneville.com

Much love and many blessings.
m.

Breaking the Curse

Author Jeremy C. Shipp is never content to merely give his readers a diversion. Sure you laugh; you fall in love with his characters, are emotionally swept into his world; but his work is always so much more than emotive string pulling.

Shipp wants your mind. He wants your heart. He wants you to be so taken in by his words that by the time he is through with you, you see the world differently. He wants to wake you up, and he won’t sugar coat the brutality or the beauty of life as he delivers his message. In making you honestly examine yourself and the world, he offers you a great gift – a chance at healing. Shipp’s second novel, Cursed, is such an adventure and is due for release this October. It is available for pre-order at http://www.rawdogscreaming.com/cursed.html.

Cursed resonates as a love story to those of us who feel like outsiders. Though Shipp makes explicit use of a physical disability in this novel, that sense of being “other” could come from any of the millions of details that make up our personal story such as one’s faith or sexuality. It is a reminder that being unique is not a curse as society would have us think. In fact our differences are our gifts. We are meant to celebrate them and use them to heal ourselves, each other, and ultimately the world.

One immediately has great empathy for Shipp’s lead characters. Cicely and Nicholas can be nothing other than the cursed beings they are, but thank God for that. In the book, they literally hold the fate of the world in their hands. There could be no more intelligent, humorous, kindly souls to be at the mercy of. They are given an awesome responsibility, and through their journey we can see the best and worst within ourselves as well.

Like many, Nicholas just wants to blend in. He wants to pretend he leads an unexceptional life. But for Nicholas there is no out. He must do what he is destined to do. In the end, the same goes for us all. Shipp is calling out those who would wear masks and try to live a small existence. Not following an authentic path would have consequences in Cursed, just as it does in the real world.

Shipp forces us to confront the pain, fear, loneliness in our lives. They are a warning that action needs to be taken. We are given a very explicit reminder at the very beginning “This isn’t only your life that you’re messing with. We’re connected. We’re all connected.” My pain is your pain; your pain is my pain. And what is most vital for ending our personal nightmares? Forgiveness. It is through this we heal.

There is also a recurring theme of being ignored, not being heard. Nicholas constantly faces this in his attempts to connect with others. But he can’t truly be heard because he is hiding. He is afraid if someone really did see him, truly know him inside and out they would be horrified. In contrast Cicely has the strength to claim who she is and fight against those who would dismiss her as wrong. She faces the world with an open heart and creativity. She is the kind of empowered being that comes from living from a place of love instead of fear. She pushes Nicholas and hopefully the reader to a breakthrough where they find themselves capable of more than they had imagined.

As in his short stories and his first novel, Vacation, Shipp’s prose in Cursed is distilled down to the finest essence. No triviality remains. With a lot of wit and a huge heart full of passion, he enthralls the reader. The writing is elegant and quite simply a pleasure to read.

Shipp’s work always carries with it a sense of magical realism that I find incredibly seductive. I’m always eager to see what rules he’s playing with in each new piece. And I must admit as a writer I’d kill to have a little bit of that awe-inspiring creativity Shipp has in his deliciously demented mind.

So in the end does Cursed succeed? In a word: yes. Readers can’t walk away unmoved. They will recognize themselves in the characters. They will see the indictment of the energy spent on imaginary problems while the real ones burn the world down.

He gets you – mind and heart. And I have to believe that his readers and the planet will come away altered for the better because of this experience.

Jeremy C. Shipp may be just one author, but maybe that’s enough.

-----------------------------
Please Visit Jeremy Shipp’s site at http://www.jeremycshipp.com/ and then pre-order the book at http://www.rawdogscreaming.com/cursed.html

Combating Resistance

“You’re brave and you’re beautiful
So hold your head high
Don’t ever let them define
the light in your eyes.” -- Fight Like a Girl by Bombshell

Resistance. Oh how it can make a simple task feel Herculean. I have been facing a lot of inner resistance lately as I’m working on my first book. Quite honestly it feels odd to even say that. It’s like that evil little voice inside my head is going “Yeah, right! Hah!” It’s hard to break out of what I have previously defined myself as capable of.

I’ve been thinking lately about how I went from fueled and productive to resisting writing lately. I think my ego picked up on the fact that I was making a true change and threw up a wall. We’ve all run into those times. It is a moment where you have to ask yourself how much will you fight for what you want. We fear what might come if we lived authentically. What if we fail? Would those we love reject us? Just who do we think we are anyhow?

It is hard for artists. We create because we want to move people, change things, share our inner world. We don’t create just to have the work disappear into a vacuum. We want to make a difference. We want to hear on occasion that we made someone laugh, cry, see things in a new way. Yes, we would be driven to create no matter what, but feedback does matter. It does help us get through those moments of starring at a blank page or canvas. Creation is a joyous and painful process. Knowing our work matters helps us to push on.

Suddenly I’m acutely aware of the fact that people I truly love won’t even read my work. Some of my dearest family members and friends won’t read my work. I want to believe that they want to be close to me, to get to know me, and it hurts to think that they find what my writing reflects of my soul ugly. It has shut me down many times.

I’ve tried to lock away what is within in order to stay acceptable. I’ve tried to lead the responsible, ordinary life. But that doesn’t work. It’s not fulfilling. It leaves me sorrowful and wanting more. Those around me can pat me on the head and say, “Good Girl” when I behave “properly” but I know in my bones that I am worth more than that -- that my life is meant to be more than this. The hard thing is to silence the doubts. The hard thing is to say, “Damn it, this is important to me” when everyone else around you thinks it is trivial or a joke.

It is funny how we dampen our inner light, how we wear masks to “fit in.” The reality is most people are screaming inside, wishing they could truly be who they are, could chase their passion. Quite frankly the world would have a lot more joy and beauty if they did. The reality is there are people who will become angry if you don’t act in ways they desire and you have to be strong enough to do it anyhow.

The answer to the “Just who do you think you are?” question is actually a simple one in the end. It takes effort to strip away the illusions, the fears, the doubts, but once you do, the answer really is beautiful. We are Spirit. We are Love. We are that divine creative energy here to have a human experience. Our essence is powerful. Our souls are wise. We just have to shut out the outside noise off and find the strength to believe, to try. Only in listening to our highest self, following its wisdom can we ever create the life we want and finally find the peace we so crave.

To those of you also chasing a dream: Be brave and beautiful. Never give up.

Poem: Rebirthed.

He's calling me.
Warming my very blood.
Beating this heart back to life.
Filling my lungs with his breath.
With me,
within me.
So hot and full,
alive,
am I.

It's crazy this need,
heady this want.
For his voice
I'd gladly be dashed
upon the rocks.
For him,
I'd take a moment in his arms
and let my soul be damned.
All for the Beloved.
Anything for the One.

Love has shattered,
it has opened,
dissolved me,
in this fiery grace.

The world,
once mundane, now rebirthed
and extraordinary.
My lines so clear
now blurred.
And what was me,
and what was truth,
are not what they once were.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY GRANDMA.

A short, brown-haired woman came before her grandmother, shy and smiling as she looked to the ground. Melanie, as she was called, hid something behind her back as she kissed the soft cheek of her grandmother.

"Grandma, I love you. Happy Birthday!" Melanie said.

"Why thank you, Melly," Grandma beamed and gave her a big hug.

"I have something for you because it's your special day." Melanie revealed a small bag of presents for her grandma.

She first pulled out rose -- long-stemmed, blood red, and lovely. Soon the air was filled with its sweet fragrance.

"A rose for you because you are beautiful," the brown-eyed woman said.

The grandmother took the rose and inhaled. She remembered the many roses she'd been given and great love she had known through the years. She thanked Melanie who quickly pulled out another item.

It was a box of chocolates.

"A box of chocolates for you, because no matter the highs and lows of our day, one must always remember to stop and savor the sweetness of life," she said.

"Thank you, I shall remember that as I enjoy them," Grandma said already imagining enjoying them later.

Next Melanie revealed a small compass, the kind any hiker might carry as he navigated the hills and valleys of life.

"A compass for any dark nights in your heart. It will always lead you home to us, and always keep you true to your path," Melanie said.

The grandmother smiled and took the compass. Many twists and turns had filled her life. She'd had many adventures and seen many places. There had been great joys like falling in love, having her sons, her first grandchild. There had been sorrows of loss, disappointment, and great grief, but she had always found shelter in her family.

"Thank you, Melly, for this token of home," she said her eyes soft and filled with loving memories.

Then Melanie pulled the final present from the bag. It was a simple piece of paper and there was a poem on it which she read through happy tears.

One night I heard on the wind
a voice so kind and sweet
of love it whispered to me.

"Always remember you are this --
Beautiful and brave.
Always remember I am here
to hold you on even the hardest day.
For you are love, my angel girl.
That is all you are.
Never are you alone.
I'm here in every breeze.
I light your path in every star.
I'll hold you in my heart."

And I cried for joy.
I smiled in thanks.
For this unearned blessing
this love and grace.
For this angel that chose
to walk with me on this earth.
Never again could I
fail to see life's worth.

"I will sing of you."
I whispered back to the wind.
And in my greatest joys,
my greatest sorrows,
in every word I write,
my every dream,
lives the love you gave to me.

===============================================

Grandma,

Thank you so much for being the blessing you are in my life.
I love you beyond words.

Happy Birthday!!!!!!

In Rememberance

Snickers King


My best friend, Denice, has given me many great gifts over the time I have known her, but one of the sweetest has been the opportunity to enjoy her pets. This week her beloved dog, Snickers, passed away. My heart broke as I read of his passing. I'm sure she is clinging to her family right now as she grieves. My heart is very much with her.

Denice and I are both single and would have a quiet, lonely homes without our pets. Though not everyone can understand it, for her and I they are like our children. They share love with us. They comfort us. They make us laugh. They frustrate us. They are the delight that gets us through difficult days. The dependence we have our pets and theirs on us is a relationship that adds a lot of meaning to our lives.

Snickers, like many dogs, was a source of unconditional love. He shared his joy and love with everyone he met. He could lift your heart on the hardest day as he shimmied and danced, asking to be pet. He was a true gift to Denice over a lot of difficult times and I know she will miss him beyond what any words could capture. I, too, will miss his smiling face when I visit her.

Animals can sometimes love us in unconditional and open-hearted ways that humans haven't mastered. They are an immense blessing during their time with us -- which is never long enough. For those of us who have felt like outsiders, who felt scorned and rejected, a pet's love maybe the only example of acceptance we have to cling to some days. They live utterly in the now and remind us to stop, appreciate life, and allow ourselves to be loved.

Denice has written about her grief on her blog, and it wouldn't surprise me if she channels her energies into a painting. I hope you will drop by and leave her a comment and condolences. You can view her post by clicking here.

Poem: Locked Within

So harsh it seems
this realm of broken souls
vulnerability,
ugly cruelty.
And you would call me to join?
Why should I flee this semi-safety?
Even if it's illusion,
it comforts me.

So loud the You Shoulds,
You Can'ts,
of others.
I bear the scars of straying
from the rules.
I've offered my heart up on the altar of the world.
And you would ask me again
to bleed for you?

No.
Too timid am I.
Too bruised.
Twice shy.
And now comfortable
in these shadows
Locked inside.

My deepest self calls this
a false fragility
and would have me stand in the light.
But bearing the thought
of nakedness before you
is more than I can do.

So I'll stay,
alone,
trying to silence
the roar of my thoughts.
I'll mourn the possibilities,
quiet my heart when it screams,
and pray,
till I find a stronger me.

Poem: For Megan

The following is an imagining of mine based upon my dear friend, Marie, and her daughter, Megan. Those of you on Twitter will recognize Marie as @spreadingjoy.

Megan has been an amazing warrior as she battles a very difficult to classify illness. Her family ceaselessly carries on searching for answers and treatment.

This is my imagining of Marie's prayer to her daughter. Love and Blessings to Megan and her family. May they find answers and know healing.


For Megan
------------

My sweet girl.
There are no songs I can sing
to comfort you on this night,
to quiet the storm within you,
to still the fear.
This battle is yours.
But I am at your side --
my love, my time, my heart
given up gladly in this fight.
I shall keep such a vision
of grace surrounding you
that the very angels will weep
at its beauty.
I’ll take care of you.
I’ll hold you
when the tears come.
I’ll make you laugh again
when your heart wants to break.
I’ll give you comfort
through this pain.
You have
all the love in my heart,
all the strength in my body,
all the faith in my spirit,
till my last breath.

Poetry: Breath

One more older piece that I wanted to put up for this new audience.


Breath
--------
You took my breath away…
Called to me as I passed distracted on the street.
You stopped me on a dime.
I recognized your voice in an instant.
And oh I knew those ice-blue eyes so well
When I turned and met them.
The feelings from across the years hit me in waves.
No longer a child,
With the grey in your ebony hair.
Older and therefore changed,
Yet ever the same.
Your left hand gleamed with the gold band,
And I could imagine being the one by your side
Held in those strong arms at night.
Your smile was still as warm
And your eyes twinkled with the same mischief.
I wondered if I succeeded in seeming cool
When inside I twisted and turned.
And I wonder if my smile seemed true,
When I broke inside with want and love for you,
With memories,
With what could have beens.
There was a time in which you could have been mine.
But we let each other go--
Our moment lost to the search for own lives.
And I’ve missed you,
The talent that flowed through your words,
And the way we came together in writing.
I adored you.
That never stopped.
The easy, sexy way you had about you,
The passion in your art,
The wit of your thoughts,
All entranced me.
But someone else will hold you tonight
And in seeing you again that kills me.
If I didn’t see any tenderness in you still,
If holding you as you hugged me hello wasn’t still electric,
My heart might not hurt so badly.
We can’t change the past.
And so we play at small talk.
We pretend that love died.
We pretend it doesn’t kill us to be reminded.
We pretend we’re happy the other moved on.
And as you walk away
I try to breathe again.

Poem: Biting Back

This is an older piece. Just wanted to throw it up on this new blog to make it available.

Biting Back
==============

I'm tasting blood
I'm biting back
so hard,
not saying what I'm feeling.
Incessant you are
with the moans,
the woe-is-me,
aren't I just tragic,
lost in my miseries?

And I think, not really.

I could swat you away
with all the concern
I'd grant a bug.
Just to get relief
from your attention craving,
look-at-me
tell me I'm worthy
and oh-please-praise-me's.

Either fight
Or accept in surrendering grace.
Either change
Or don't expect a shift to the pattern
Of your days.

I've tired of the broken record.
Listening with concern is at an end.
A warm heart has frosted o'er
in the cold of your darkness.
The charm of melancholy
long ago wore thin.

Soon there'll be no holding back
Words like daggers shall
Mortally and cruelly wound,
With no remorse or pity,
I'll slay this once love for good.

Yeah, go ahead weep
And scream,
try to hate me.
Pretend you won't miss me.
Wish to erase me.

But you know in the end,
I just gave you what you wanted baby.

Poem: Your love

You are my fiercest armor
and highest vulnerability,
the stars in my dark night,
and the sun’s renewal in my joy.
When I’m knocked breathless
by life’s blow,
you are the roots to steady me once more.
No finer treasure could exist
than your faith.
You hold.
You support.
You push and prompt.
You raise me up to be a better me.
You are the song of love in my life.
You give me the strength to dream.
And I thank God it’s in me that you believe.

From Bleeding to Balance

I am a writer, and a real writer bleeds on the paper. If you are an artist of any kind, you can not create without offering up the sacrifice of your heart to the work. It is life. You've birthed this creation. You've nurtured, feared, struggled, cried, laughed, and bled as you brought it from the void into manifestation.

Some of my work has my essence naked for the reader to see, and some of it is far from the reality of myself and my life. Nonetheless, these stories and poems are all dear to me. I didn't quite realize how dear until they were met with rejection and silence.

I know. I know. I hear the published authors and other kinds of artists telling me to thicken my skin, not take it personally. I won't argue against the truth of that. But I'm speaking of this because I am seeing the deeper truths beneath my emotional reactions.

Over the past 24 hours I've been judged and judged others. I've cried. I've been angry. I've yelled. I watched on Twitter friends tweet of their dreams, tweet self-affirmations of their worth and instead of reacting from a place of love I felt anger. I felt a sense of "Why You?!"

Ah, yes -- why you and not me? As if love is limited in its supply. As if my abundance is limited by another's success.

I realized that I, like many of us, was stuck in a view of the world that originates in from a place of limitations and lack. But the truth is when love is given, it doesn't lessen the supply I have, it only increases it. Since metaphysically we are all one, how one person is treated impacts all of us. So if I am loving to someone, in the end I'm being loving to myself. If I practice compassion for others, I learn compassion for myself.

Once you move from lack/fear into abundance/love, something interesting can occur. I can be in an emotional space to have the compassion to say, "I am that." Here's the idea. We have a tendency to want to judge and punish others for things we think and desire within ourselves. Let's take an extreme example: a person who stalks someone. Now deep down in this person's psyche, he longs for love. Perhaps he even believes if someone else is experiencing it that it takes away from his chance. Perhaps he fears that he will never find someone that makes him feel the way this other person does.

Looking at his emotions, his fears, I can honestly say, "I am that." I have longed for someone and lost him, worried I might not feel that passion again. I've envied and worried as I watch people in love, wondering if I am running out of chances.

In every case, no matter the extremity of the situation, there is a humanity that we can relate to and say, "I am that." We can recognize ourselves in the frazzled parent yelling at their child, the distracted driver who cuts us off, the insecure friend who acts out to get more attention.

Being able to go Yes, I've been frustrated and angry. Yes, I've been far too busy and gotten distracted and forgotten to pay attention.Yes, I've worried about being loved and accepted.I am that. allows you to tune in again to love and recognize our oneness. You may not have reacted in the same way as someone else, but you can understand a bit of what they are going through.

In practicing moving myself more into a loving, centered state and doing this exercise of "I am that" today, I have been able to work through my sorrows. I am clear enough emotionally now to honor those places I need to heal without being lost in the pain. I am once again able to view those who frustrated me with great compassion and love. I am grateful to each one of them for being there to teach me.

So practice this and let me know what you think. Namaste and Blessed Be.

Happy Mother's Day

"My mother is a poem I'll never be able to write, though everything I write is a poem to my mother." -- —Sharon Doubiago

Dear Mom,

I know I'll never be old enough for you to stop worrying about me. Your e-mails and your voice mails checking in on me, looking out for my safety, wishing me a good day during a stressful time bring a smile to my face. I thank God that even though I'm an adult that you are still willing to be at my side if I need you, that you are still my defender, still the shoulder I can cry on. The gift now is that I can be there for you too.

There will never come a day when hearing you are proud of me doesn't fill my heart. You are the example of womanhood I strive to emulate and to have you say "Good Job" makes me feel like I'm becoming the kind of person I want to be.

I can't imagine a more challenging job than raising a child and you had to deal with one that was very sick during her first years. I can't fathom how scary, stressful, and painful some of those moments must have been for you. But you carried on. Through my physical ups and downs you have held my hand. I have no doubt in my early years such love pulled me through.

The gifts you have given me through the years are too numerous to name: the band practices, plays, and games you didn't miss; the hours spent sewing costumes, baking treats for my classmates, and helping with homework.

Because of you I found my love of words and my passion for writing. I wouldn't be me without the endless sessions of you reading to me, trips to the library, and the books you've passed along. And thank you for encouraging my own work.

I could go on and on, but the bottom line is: You are all of the best in my world. You are joy, forgiveness, compassion, and the motivating kick in the backside. I am grateful for the patience and love. I am grateful for the laughter. I am grateful for how you pushed me to be a better person.

To say thank you for such gifts seems so little, but I think that is a mother's blessing: You ask nothing more than to be loved, though you would give the world for your child.

I hope you know how treasured you are. You are in my heart always. I am well aware of how much I lucked out in having you for my mother. It was a blessing I'll always give thanks for.

I love you mom. Happy Mother's Day.

A Namaste Consciousness

"You were missed." These words welcomed me back to work on Friday after a month-long furlough. There were even a few welcome back hugs to add cheer to my day.

As the smile grew on my face with each word of appreciation, I realized how important interactions like these are for my soul. It is important for us to know that we are cared for and that our presence impacts another person's world. It reminded me how important it is for us to acknowledge those around us.

When was the last time you expressed to someone how wonderful you think they are, how grateful you are for what they do, how much you appreciate them? Take the time. People need to hear these words. It is a period of great stress and negativity. It is important to remember each one of us can make a choice to give in to the negativity or to reach for the light. We can make a choice to help others who are struggling to hold on and remind them of their worth. We can make a choice to act from love.

It can be hard to reach out. It can be a struggle to be vulnerable. So allow me to share. It has been my tendency through much of my life to be a hermit. I protected myself out of fear. Through time and age, I am learning. I am softening. The walls are slowly crumbling. When you open your heart and come from a place of love, you see the beauty of others. You are barely able to see their so-called faults through the loving filter. The very desire to judge is lost in appreciation of the the gifts and struggles of that unique person. Compassion comes easier and therefore anger lessens. Take the time to take care of yourself so that you are grounded, centered, calm, and in a loving place when interacting with others.

I challenge you to salute and bless the people around you. Everyone. This includes the people you like and the people you might not like. Just look at a person and say a simple blessing like "The love in me salutes the love in you." or "The God in me salutes the God in you." If need be, make up your own blessing. We want to acknowledge the best in people. Such praise and honoring helps those good qualities to manifest further. It will also help improve your outlook since you'll be focusing on something positive.

Adopt this Namaste consciousness and let me know what happens. Share your stories, frustrations, further suggestions. Honor those around you and don't wait to spread love. Live with an open heart and light up the world.

I am enough

The media bombards us with messages of our inadequacy and all of the things we should be acquiring right now to better ourselves and our lives. If we follow the gods of advertising, their Word is simply: "You can never be good enough. You will never have enough. Keep trying, keep buying, and maybe one day you'll be lovable."

It's a lie. You are at this moment exactly who you are meant to be, where you are meant to be, and doing what you are supposed to be doing. You are beautiful. You are sacred. You are loved. You are cherished. No put downs from others, no rejection letter, no self-loathing changes that. You are a wondrous gift meant to bless the world with your love, joy, and light.

It is not a job status or the size of your home or the cost of your car that determines your worth. You are innately lovable. You are innately, divinely worthy. And worthy right now -- not after losing 20 pounds or getting that big bonus.

That isn't to say we don't need to grow. Of course there is wisdom and experience always to be had. It means we give ourselves permission to stop berating ourselves. It means we give ourselves permission to break through fear and experience the life we are meant to live because we recognize we are worthy of it. Embrace and honor your gifts. Feed the fire of your creativity and share your soul with the world. Honor yourself and treat yourself well spiritually and physically.

Your moment is now. Your power doesn't exist in the dreams of the future or the regrets/accomplishments of the past. Your ability to experience miracles is in found in the now. The life you wish to lead is found in this very moment. But we can't fully appreciate life and all of the blessings we have until we stop the push for more, more, more and be grateful for the person that we are and the blessings around us. It goes against nearly everything society teaches us to find satisfaction in our life. But is one of the most necessary things to do for inner peace.

It takes a great deal of nerve, and an act of outright rebellion, to dig down inside yourself and find a voice that says, "I am enough." So take my hand friend. Welcome to the revolution.

Where's your mind at?

Right now so many people are hurting. The tales of illness, job loss, and war fill the airwaves. The negativity has been unbearable for some, driving them to the violence we've seen making headlines.

We need a return to the light. We need a return to a perspective of joy. We need hope. It is more important than ever that each and everyone of us pay attention to our thoughts and emotions.

Too often we don't realize that our thoughts are creative energies. We manifest reality through our thoughts and each second make choices in creating our world. The universe hears our calls. If we come from a perspective of lack then that will become the seed of our lives. So it is important to focus on every blessing that we have. Most of us are fortunate enough to have some kind of shelter, running water, food in our stomachs, and family that love us.

So this is the question: Where's your mind at? Are you grateful? Are you doing something with your abundance of blessings to lift someone else up?

We each need to watch our words and interactions to make sure we are sharing positivity, joy, affirmation, and compassion as much as possible. Watch yourself and you may find yourself tempted to share some negative story or a complaint. Try to resist that and share something positive instead.

We need to use our spiritual tools to help us cope during this time. Don't neglect meditation, exercise, and play.

Pray. Our fault is not that we ask God too much, but that we ask of Him too little. Ask for your heart to be opened, your perspective to be changed so that you are able to lead the kind of miraculous life you are meant for. Pray for the abundance, peace, and healing of the Earth we so need right now.

Hold on to one another. We all need so badly to know we are not alone right now. Reach out so that no one feels they have to face whatever struggles and fears they might have on their own. Validate those around around you and remind them of how special they are, what a gift they are to the world. Let someone know what a difference he or she has made in your life.

If it takes not reading the newspaper or watching the news to help you feel more positive then do it. Instead take the time to sing, laugh, get out into nature, create a work of art. Do whatever will open your heart so you can embrace the light.

We can come together to create the world we all long for. It just takes awareness. It takes growth. It takes working through fears. It takes one thought at a time.

Movie Review: A Haunting in Connecticut

A Haunting in Connecticut might be a case where knowing less is more. I can't help but wonder if those people who are interested in the paranormal and familiar with the cases of Ed and Lorraine Warren might be taken out of the movie a bit as they notice the differences from the real case. Perhaps not. I can only judge from my own experience. I came to this movie only having a superficial knowledge of the real case, but knowledge enough to know that it does stretch the "based on a true story" concept.

But not being tied to a preconceived notion, the movie worked for me. I jumped. I squealed. I cried. I was moved. I can't ask for much more out of a movie than to be drawn into the experience.

The story hinges around the Campbell family which has a child fighting against cancer and appears to be nearing the end of his battle. The family is pretty much at their wits end in terms of financial stress, emotional stress, and the burden of long drives to get treatment for the son, Matt, who is played with heartbreaking depth by Kyle Gallner.

The family in an effort to ease the stress for all decides to rent a house closer to where Matt's treatments take place. The mother, Sara (played by the always excellent Virgina Madsen), makes an executive decision on renting a home that seems perfect for the family despite its history as a mortuary.

Though some may feel it slows the movie's pacing, I felt the scenes of family stress were very effective. They drew me in and made me care about this family which is facing the devastation of losing a child. Virgina Madsen is a fierce, protective, loving mother in this film. When she breaks down, the viewer can't help but sympathize.

Once the family is firmly established in their new residence, the family is subjected to various phenomena of haunting. Dark figures appear beside them. Things are rearranged. Electric light shows take place. The most affected by this is Matt. It is reasoned by Reverend Popescu, played by the charismatic Elias Koteas, that perhaps Matt's enhanced experience is due to his closeness to death. Credit must be given to Koteas who steals every scene he is in. His work here is perfection.

The film takes you into the past of the home and its frightening history. Director Peter Cornwell does a very deft job of tweaking color to give a sense of atmosphere and brilliantly edits between the modern day events and the past. It was very well done and could have been less effective in unskilled hands. The entities that are in the house have an original, eerie look. They are intimidating and frightening. Definitely something that would make you scream if you opened your eyes from a deep sleep to find one standing beside you.

I should comment too on the house. The art and set design give the place a very creepy feel. Like Amityville Horror, the movie wouldn't work if the house didn't work.

Yes,this film has the usual expected scary sound cues and flashes of specters that make up the "cheap thrills" of any horror movie. Yes, it has dread and gore enough to satisfy most who desire that. But what makes this movie go beyond a token horror film is the depth, heart, and journey of the characters.

Gallner's performance defines the movie for me. He really carries the weight of the illness and the haunting manifestations in his posture, his expressions, his physical reactions to things. We watch him break further and further down, until he finds the answer to the house's mystery and becomes empowered. His journey is ours.

The ending of movie honestly did present some difficulties for me. It seemed that there may have been some editing that left out key information. The soundtrack at the end took me out of the movie a bit due to too much melodrama. But praise for and satisfaction in this movie definitely overwhelmed any minor disappointments. A high recommend for fans of the paranormal and horror, and one I look forward to seeing again.

Poetry: Siren

You wear your tragedy
like a silken black dress…
Ebony attractiveness of sorrow and need
almost seems to cling to your curves --
calling out your tender parts.

You draw the men like bees to sugar.
Each one so sure he is the one to help,
the one to rescue you.
Helpless little you.
Weak and saddened little you.

And you whisper
how you don’t know what you’d do without him,
how you need him.

Lies so succulent and tempting
They are devoured greedily.
Each man feeling singularly important.
Each victim blind and deaf to the ghosts of others in your bed.

But I know you siren.
And I’ll be damned and dead
before I allow your song to entrance my love.
I saw the look in your eyes, the greed…

You’ll not feed upon his kindness while I breathe.
I see through
your painted picture of beauty and affliction
to the ugly, manipulative nature of the beast.
If you don’t want your dirty little secrets revealed
Turn and walk away from him.
Dismiss him from your thoughts.
Don’t lay your hungry eyes upon his soul again.

In case you question how far I'd go for him.
To the ends of earth and time my dear.
And if you care to try me --
Make a move.
I'll tear you apart

Poem: The invisible

Sister, I hear you.
Your grief reached me.
Through the dark
I've come to you.
Give me your hand.
Let my love embrace you for a time.
My strength is yours,
take of it what you will.

Tell me your story
down to the smallest detail.
Open...there's nothing to fear.
Curse and rage till your anger is vented.
Weep till your pain has passed.
Laugh till your cheeks hurt and your eyes glisten.
I'll love you through it all.

You're not invisible.
You're seen for all you are.
Do you think your darkness, your diversity,
could drive me away?
My own soul plays a similar theme.
You're a kindred...not a stranger.
A radiant gift of light and love.
You can't even fathom your beauty.
But I see.
And I'll stay.

Poem: Mercy Plea

Don’t call me,
Your voice’s siren song is irresistible.
I’d crash against the rocks of your shore
So willingly I’d fall and die for you.

Don’t touch my cheek,
Your fingers warm my skin,
Awaken the blood that needs to cool
So heady with desire for you I am.

Don’t hold me,
You arms around me feel like home,
Your perfume fills my head and drunkens me
And clarity will be the only victor o’er my heart.

Don’t love me,
Don’t kiss me back to life,
Make my body sing
For I would believe, I would succumb to the dream of you.
My heart would beat for our time together,
My hands would not have a purpose but to touch you again.
And your face would be the only delight to these eyes.

Don’t say you’d stay.
I’d be abandoned as your hero swept in, taking you from this maid.
Half alive without you that I adored.
You would have my heart despite the lack of warmth
My tears would fill my room and drown me
With visions of you with him.
His skin under your lips,
Shivering with the skill of your fingers.
Murmuring his name in the midnight black instead of mine.

So don’t… darling temptress.
Don’t pretend and lie pretty lies
Push me not toward the fall.
Let me keep my ground.
Let me keep my heart whole.
Let me go.

Poem: The Phone Doesn't Ring

The phone doesn’t ring.
The connection silenced and broken
By the weight of things unsaid.
No small talk to make now.
Any words that would come too cruel and cutting.
I want to ask if you’re afraid.
So strong and mean you once were.
Your brutal force now gone
Do you cry in the night at what may come?
Do you regret?
All those moments where love was neglected
And coldness chosen
Do they haunt you now?
Do you look at your children you chastised so harshly
And feel proud of them now?
Do they know?
I want to tell you how much you’ve hurt those around you…
Those same people who nurture and take care of you now.
I want you to ask for forgiveness. I want to see you breakdown.
I want to yell at the man and woman I knew.
But nothing is left of them now.
Just these sick, aged forms with spirits about to depart.

Poem: Missing

How am I to say good-bye
I’ve loved you before this life,
On misty shores my arms enwrapped you
My delicate fingers traced your jaw and played in your hair
With a tenderness of centuries.
You were a companion, a beloved friend.
My peace in the storms of existence.
Sharing the mysteries and magic,
The realm beyond with me.
Now you come to me a cruel teacher,
An ebony mirror echoing back my essence.
I thought us a blend of opposites, ying to yang,
Dark to Light.
Perfection in opposition.
Was your cruelty
The necessary jar to my spirit--to know all that I am not.
Was there ever tenderness?
Was there ever truth?
Was there ever love?
If there was,
Where are you?

Poem: Let him stay

Sleep won't come.
I miss your quiet breathing
in this too empty night.
Wanting you home,
in my arms,
to have the world set right,
not this prelude to being alone.

Not this fear.
Not this sickness.
Not this helplessness.
Not this nightmare
of drugs,
doctors,
death.

And the clock ticks.
I toss and turn.
Not being able to stand
the thoughts that come
in the stillness.

Love I need you.
And wonder how I'm
to be parted from you,
when each second is
possibly one of a precious few
I have with you.

So I'll lie here...
breathing in and out
and holding back tears
till the dawn comes,
till I can be at your side.
And I'll pray,
Please God,
let him stay.

Poem: Killing with God

For those that saw this in a previous incarnation of my blog, forgive me. I wanted to get this out there again for new readers.

Blessings...
=========================

Killing with God

You kill with God.
Twist and warp the words of light
to shadow.

With every breath you pierce
the armor of the innocent
wound their hearts,
slowly and deliberately
kill their spirits.

Your eyes divulge
your pleasure at their pain --
dancing in delight and devilry.

Your fires have burned through my kind
and the loving peaceful soul
that long ago met your blades and tortures
stands again against
the would-be inquisitors.

Your false righteousness shall
be revealed in the effulgence of truth.
And you will fall,
even if I must call upon
the magics of heaven and earth
to make it so.

I remember,
my lost brothers,
my sisters,
victims swallowed in your bloody wake.
Their cries haunt me.

They were truly children of God.
You are born of a darker force
and your invocation of His name is
an obscene curse.

Time has turned this tide.
I shall not hide.
I shall not be silent.
I shall not accept the fate
of your flames again.

For every child that took
his own life thinking that God hated him,
for every woman that hanged
for understanding power and healing
in ways you never could,
for every maiden killed
because she didn’t believe as you would
shall repay you their suffering threefold.

There’s no mercy no more.

The deliciousness of Life

Sometimes we are so caught-up in the busy-ness and practical survival tasks that we don't really cherish the gift that every breath is. It can take something devastating to make us stop and appreciate things.

My step-father is currently undergoing treatment for a very agressive and deadly form of lung cancer. You can bet he is longing for his pre-cancer body. The body that was strong and hiked up mountains. The body that savored the taste of food and could keep it down. The body that didn't have to undergo chemotherapy treatments that made his very sweat toxic to the point where his wife couldn't hold his hand, kiss his cheek.

So I want to say: Don't let it take something horrible to make you appreciate the deliciousness of every moment of life.

It's important to remember our senses and delight them. Focus on something that feels, looks, tastes, smells, sounds beautiful. You have a body that is a gift. We have an Earth around us that is nearly heart-breaking in its awesome beauty if you only look at it. We have artists crying out, trying to reach our hearts and move us. Here is an example of such beauty:



Life...real life...It's the taste of that favorite wine on your tongue. It's the feel of your beloved's hands giving you that much needed back massage. It's the smell of fresh flowers. It's whatever personally raises your vibrations and makes you feel alive and joyful and loving.

I challenge you to take the time to connect with your senses again today. Forget the television and the depressing news programs. Forget the chores that can wait that are taking you away from real living -- the dishes can always be done later; believe me they won't go away.

Now go and do something that makes you remember how to smile and opens your heart.

The return to the light

There have been many physical struggles I've undergone throughout my life and I admit that I had been a little bit lost lately in just being tired of not feeling well. I was also struggling with fear and sorrow as I face the possibility of losing my step-father to cancer. The worry for Dale and my mother came in like a tide and I was swept under its force for a while.

And for some reason in times of darkness it is a real problem that I fail to do what I know will help center me and focus me on the light again. But Spirit doesn't ever abandon us. Spirit is always reaching out, reminding us of the truth.

I have an inner voice that whispers to me that I am alone, that those who claim to love me would abandon me if they only knew the "real" me. It is something that I have tended to allow to isolate me, especially if I'm in pain. But thankfully Spirit finds away around my isolation and leads me to voices I need to hear. I heard a quote from Marianne Williamson that resonated with me and captured this: "God shall outwit your self-hatred."

And so Spirit connected me with family and friends to lift me up again. My mentor Jeanine reminded me of that very simple, yet terribly powerful and difficult-for-me-to-master truth that life is what we focus on.

I was so focused on my own pains and worries. I was forgetting to give thanks for the blessings that are bestowed upon me everyday. I was making the choice to have a life of sorrow, pain, and fear. I was creating an emotional storm every moment instead of being a force of love and peace.

Today is my beloved step-father's first day of chemo therapy. So I think this is a good moment to seize the power of now and commit to make different choices. I must remember to really open my eyes and see the beauty around me, make myself focus on it until it is as natural as breathing. I must return to meditation. I must return to my friends. And in these things may I find my way back to myself.

My Favorite Thing Today: Fury of Solace.

Hi everyone,

I want to give some love to this creative adventure. Fury of Solace is a story about good and evil that is in a similar vein to the Internet sensation Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long Blog.

This will be a mix of video and comic book work. That sounds sweet as chocolate to this geek girl. I think the song in the first vid is just awesome.

Hope you enjoy it as well. Fury of Solace can be found at http://furyofsolace.com/. You can view Episode 1 here by clicking on the play button:

Poem: My Mother's eyes

In my mother's eyes
the sun pales against her warmth.
The love that radiates from within
shines through and enfolds me.
I find peace in the storm,
safety in the darkness.
She leads me to the light again.

Her inner joy sparkles there
with every laugh.
And she is so beautiful
in those moments,
so alive.
She reminds you of
the gift of each breath.

When the storms darken life
wisdom and compassion
combine there in a state of grace.
And I would heal each hurt
that flashes there,
but I lack the gifts
to ease this journey.

I pray for peace.
I pray for life and healing.
I pray Spirit comforts her.
I give thanks for her
and all the joys and sorrows
and beauty I see
in her eyes.

Poem: Just believe

Beloved….
Let go the fear.
I won’t turn you away.
Come.
Yes, come to me.

Fall into my arms.
Cling to me.
Let me adore you a while.
I’ll hold the vision of your beauty
when you can’t find it in the mirror.
My heart could never doubt you.
I believe.
Oh so clearly I see.
So dearly I love.

Let me touch you.
Kiss you alive again
till I know your every inch.
Sweetly burn you with our fire
till you warm, awaken.
Make you cry from a different kind of ache.

All that's desired
rests before you.
Just trust.
Just reach out.
Just believe.

Poem: And so We Danced.

You pulled my strings,
a macabre dance
reaching for you,
praying for tenderness,
a kind word of praise
as you turned away.

Just a child…
I was frightened at your rage,
ever wondering what words
to say,
what face to wear
what gesture to make
to stay in your grace.

And the pain of your hand
across my face
paled against the fierceness
of your voice
screaming in my head.

My soul was gifted to you
to love, to protect,
to inspire…

Ah inspire you did.
Self-hate,
And rivers of blood from razor blades,
never deep enough,
never numbered enough.

I can’t exorcize the demon.
Your refrain,
the distain
ever plays.
And there is no way
to block the roar
save to end it all.
And thanks to you
I’ve not the strength.

So you drink
And you smoke
and again we dance.
The passing of years matter not.
It’s just
another fight,
another too-long night.
And I cry
and you rage.
Another cycle,
the end, the same.

In your eyes –
the reflected me.
A twisted, distorted, semi-reality.
But oh, dear mother,
All that you hate and causes
you grief,
the very essence of your
blood and history
all that I am---

I am because of you.

Confessions of a Technology Addict

Hi, my name is Melanie. It's been 5 seconds since my last Twitter.

Wow. I spoiled myself this week and indulged in an iPhone purchase...something I've been dying for since it was released. Now I'm a full-fledged addict. I was in love from the first morning laying in the bathtub reading my e-mails, texting, and surfing the Web. It is a beautiful, useful toy that I highly recommend all check out.

But it didn't stop with the in the tub reading. Things got taken to a whole new level when I got onto Twitter (Check it out at http://twitter.com) It is a place where you can sign up to leave little 140 character updates on your life. You can also "follow" friends, family, and strangers from around the world. It's a fun way to communicate and stay in touch. And it is a complete blast.

I am following a few of my favorite celebrities and news sources and have found a few followers already from around the world. I'm in love.

On a serious note I'm hoping that it's something that might help keep me updated on my step-brother's safety as he rejoins the army. If he can post little updates to let us know he's okay that would help his family's worry for his welfare as low as possible. Some doctors are using Twitter as a means to keep families informed of progress during surgeries.

So I highly recommend checking out the Twitter Web site and then sign on to "follow" me! I'm at http://twitter.com/Larkn0298.

The Oscars

Okay...as usual the Oscars gave me a couple of what the F*$# moments.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button for make up!!! What the heck?! Over Hellboy II: The Golden Army?! Or The Dark Night? Give me a break Academy. What were you smoking?

And another one: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button for visual effects? You have got to be joking. Over Iron Man? I don't think so. Did you academy members see Iron Man?!! The effects were mind blowing!

But kudos to Hugh for being an amazing and charming host who seemed very comfortable with a daunting duty.

Poem: Blind One

Blind one.
You can't see who
stands before your eyes.
You foolishly believe
you have a clue
as to who I am.

I laugh at your ignorance.
I awe at your ramblings
and the bigotry you feel free
to spew at me.

For I am that monster.
I am that which you hate.
I am that which you would kill.
I am that which you fear.

You don't even know enough
to know you despise me.
You don't recognize me.
You think me a sympathetic listener?
You think me a kindred?
Fool.

Could it change you to know the truth?
If you found
you loved a freak,
what would it unleash?
Understanding?
Violence?
An inner questioning?
A lesson learned --
to think before you speak?

It is time for Change

Homophobia.
Bigotry.
My heart breaks when I am forcefully reminded how much hateful, willful ignorance still plagues our world, even in the supposedly forward thinking United States.

I wish for a day when being gay was given no further thought than being straight. I wish for a time when two men or two women getting married was accepted and rejoiced in as much as any straight couple's marriage. That a time would come when two people of the same sex kissing in public or on TV caused no more of a reaction than a straight couple.

Today I stumbled upon a couple of things that once again reminded me of how far gays have to go toward acceptance. There is an amazing article regarding the backlash that some schools have gotten when they've tried to mount a production of the Tony Award winning musical Rent. The article can be found by clicking here.

Yes Rent deals with complex issues: relationships (straight and gay), drug use and recovery, HIV/AIDS. Parents and communities can put their heads in the sand all they want but these are issues that teens are well acquainted with when they reach high school. And people would cringe at the amount of suicides that occur because a teenager doesn't know how to accept his sexuality.

I responded today in message board to a young woman who spoke about thoughts she'd been having that were leading her to question if she might be bi or gay. The woman basically said that she hoped it was a phase and that she hoped it didn't mean anything. She spoke about the immature homophobia of her friends. If she does find out at the end of her soul searching that she is gay...how on earth is she going to cope? She obviously will fear the rejection of beloved friends and perhaps even family members.

Rent is a powerful work. Like all meaningful, provocative art it won't be to everyone's taste. But the message behind the play is a beautiful, life-changing one of the power of love and art. It's a message that teens like that young woman need to hear.

In fact, one of the theatre directors who wanted to put on the show and ended up being denied had wanted to mount the production as a way of educating people and fighting against the homophobia he saw brewing on his campus. Teachers had reported hearing gay slurs, and videos had appeared with students using gay slurs. In my opinion he did the absolute right thing in taking action against an attitude that breeds violence towards others. He was shot down. He was told no by an ignorant administrator who obviously hadn't seen the show.

This willful ignorance is no longer acceptable folks. The gay community is no longer quietly taking your hatred and bigotry. We will fight to live our lives. We will fight for our rights. We will not let the darkness blot out the light of love. We are powerful, creative artists who will keep challenging you until you wake up. The time for change is now.

As they sing in Rent:

There's only now
There's only here.
Give in to love.
Or live in fear.
No other path.
No other way.
No day but today.

Poem: Fearing the Silence

Desperate and starved you are --
a little crazed from the work of avoidance.
I wonder why you can't see.
This pattern ever repeats.

Fearing yourself, the truth in the silence,
you fill your life with noise.
More appointments.
More meetings.
More gatherings.
Ever searching, never finding.

Ah....
If you'd only listen!
The universe whispers to you --
secrets to all you crave.

Love,
Peace,
unity you desire.
Yet you will not find this without
unless it is within.

Love me.
See me.
Need me.
You seem to scream.
Then wonder at the lack,
the silence that answers.

There's no one to heal you.
No one to fill the void inside.
No...
No savior awaits.

Except you.

Poem: Brick by Brick

Once life was beautiful.
Hope as abundant as air.
Every second seemed
honey-sweet and love-filled,
sorrows rare.

But that rosy-eyed child
has died
leaving the cynic alive.

False princes too long ruled --
whispering of love and healing.
And all was surrendered in trust.
But I'm still bleeding
in the wake of their leaving.

So I build...
A fortress of stone,
barbed wire protection surrounds this heart.
And brick by brick
the light dims a bit.

In every mirror,
I face a reflection unfamiliar,
eyes wide with fear,
then flashing with anger.
So white, so icy cold my skin.
Sorrow has paled the flush
of that once beating heart,
the light that was within.

Love's rush seems a fading dream
lost upon waking.
Clocks tick off
the rise and fall of the sun
in the outside world
and within my realm
fragile sanity is ever more lost.

It's the price I pay
with each lingering breath
for their thoughtlessness,
for each word cruel.
Ah, they know not what they do.
What was trivial to them
was to me a death, an end.

Now in this dark,
in this soul's winter
the question lingers --
Could I ever believe again?

My Anti-Valentine's Day Valentine's Day

Valentine's Day...the scourge of single people. When one is single on Valentine's Day, it can feel like the universe is taking a special time out to remind the single folk of all of the people who are in love and how flawed you as a single person must be to not be coupled up. And oh yes, everybody but you is having hot sex. Ah, poor poor single loser.

I used to do my all to just ignore the holiday as to limit the self-hating blows to my self-esteem. But I want to try a different focus this year. I think I'll form my own version of an Anti-Valentine's Day Valentine's Day.

So what will this entail? Here are a few suggestions.

1)Remind yourself that sometimes it's alot more pleasant to be single than in a relationship. I admit I get a kick out of Valentine's Day horror stories. They are funny and also a reminder that the wrong person causes a lot more heartache than being single. MSN.com has published a couple of such stories. Check out: Valentine's Day Horror Stories and True Tales of Valentine's Day Gone Awry.

2)Spread the love. Love is a beautiful thing to share with others. So why not take advantage of the holiday to share your gratitude and love for those important people in your life. Buy cards, make cookies, write a poem, or send anonymous flowers. Whatever your creativity leads you to. Other people are single on this day too remember. Maybe you can remind someone of how much he or she matters.

3)Be around somebody who loves you. We all need a reminder that we are important and loved. So get together with friends and have a special day or evening together. See family. Call a friend or family member you haven't spoken with in a while and catch up. Just do something that connects you with others and reminds you that you aren't alone. People do treasure and love you. So go enjoy that hug and the smile you see on your loved one's face.

4)Laugh. Nothing opens a heart like laughing. So even if you have to fake that grin till you make it....do it until you are smiling and laughing for real. See a funny movie. Share a good joke with a friend. Seek out your funniest storytelling friend and just enjoy his banter. Let the joy in.

5)Indulge your anti-Valentine side. Sometimes all of the Valentine's Day fuss is just too much and it can hurt. Well that's what movies like My Bloody Valentine are for. Watching those frisky couples get their comeuppance can be very amusing for those feeling rejected that day. So take in something that is the absolute opposite of a romantic comedy. Watch a horror or action flick and get in a different frame of mind.

So those are a few suggestions for getting through this week of love. I plan on doing all of these. I will be getting cards and baking for friends here at work. Plus I'll be seeing my best friend and hanging out with her on Saturday to celebrate. And yes...a horror flick is likely on the menu.

Happy Valentine's Day everyone. Bright blessings, love, and joy to everyone.

He's Just Not Into You....Just not into it (Possible Spoilers?)

My girlfriend Alli dragged me to see He's Just Not That Into You on Sunday. I was nervous from the start because I'm not at all into chick flicks. But the previews looked kind of cute and I absolutely adore Justin Long, Ben Affleck, Jennifer Connelly, and Drew Barrymore. Plus I've been surprised before by chick flicks that I didn't think I'd care for. For example I did enjoy the Sex and The City movie.

While there were a few moments that I enjoyed and laughed at because of the wit and truth, this movie definitely was not something that worked for me or I would recommend.

The major failure for me was Gennifer Goodwin's character Gigi. This woman is a desperate neurotic mess. She is so desperate to hook up with a man that she takes any politeness and kindness as a sign that the guy desires her and is interested. She stalks people, obsessively waits by the phone waiting for the guy to call, and comes across in every scene as unintelligent and desperate.

If this was someone I'd run into in real life, I'd run the other way. She would drive me insane with her lack of awareness and her desperateness for male attention. And if I was a guy I would give her a momentary glance because she's cute, and I'd run the second she tried to latch on to me. Unfortunately this psychotic desperate character is the center of the film.

I also absolutely despised Scarlett Johansson's character Anna. If you know Scarlett, you know she's stunningly beautiful and is pretty talented. But God, Anna is everything I hate in a woman. She happens to meet a nice guy in a grocery store. They talk and enjoy each other's company, but he then reveals that he is married. Several times he tries to draw a line and get her to back off. But she doesn't care, she likes him and pursues him. And of course, being as charming and sexy as she is, he really doesn't resist for long.

This movie really is a sad reflection on women in general. It portrays women as drama queens, stealers of other people's men, desperate for a relationship, and manipulators of men into marriages they don't really want. I know women like this exist. I don't want to waste two hours of my life watching characters that embody everything that gives women a bad name. I want intelligent women who have their own lives that I can root for!

Justin Long's character Alex was a bright spot in this film for me. I've always been a fan of this actor. I find him charming and believe he's a wonderful comedic actor. He has a great delivery. Alex truly is the voice of reason who cuts aways the lies and hidden meanings of what men say for Gigi. He also offers a straightforward honest critique of some of her behavior. And we get to see him grow during the course of a film to a real man who can care for someone else.

Drew Barrymore is adorable as always in this. She is one of the few characters who seems to have a marvelous combination of kindness, intelligence, and heart. Another plus is she one of the few female characters who doesn't have a moment of irrational hysteria. She has a lovely heart and you are glad to see this character win in the end.

So I would say if you want to see a good romantic comedy, don't see this movie. I would recommend something that is actually charming like The Wedding Singer.

One thing I love today: Sugarland's "Love"

I'm not generally a country fan, but on occasion a particular song will just blow me away. That's what happened Saturday morning when I was flipping channels and came across the video for Sugarland's "Love."

You can see this on YouTube by clicking here. This is not only a touching and moving song lyrically. Jennifer Nettle's vocals are just mind blowing. The energy of the concert performance honestly almost put me in tears as I watched it. My heart was very moved.

Please watch the video, download the song, and enjoy this tribute to the most important and powerful force in our lives: Love.

And never forget how much you yourself are loved and treasured.

A tribute to being uppity

Sometimes women have to do something that can be very hard for them: not sacrifice themselves in an effort to come across as "nice." We are programed from an early age that we are not to raise our voices, not question, and not rock the boat. We wouldn't want someone to call us the "b" word after all. Well there are some occasions where being "nice" can endanger us or at least not be in our highest good. There are times where we need to fight for ourselves and make our voices heard.

The brilliant Dorothy Parker's "Indian Summer" captures the throwing off of the desire to accommodate everyone just for acceptance. I wanted to share it again as a reminder of the importance of being true to yourself.

In youth, it was a way I had
To do my best to please,
And change, with every passing lad,
To suit his theories.

But now I know the things I know,
And do the things I do;
And if you do not like me so,
To hell, my love, with you!

When we are living in a way that serves our highest good, our heart is more able to be open and the real beauty of our soul shines.

Now some people don't like to see that empowerment or are jealous of the pure joy they see when it feels unobtainable to them. You'll find they generally won't stay in your life long because you aren't feeding them the reactions they want. And as Dorothy says, to Hell with them if they don't want to see you bloom.

Be loving.
Be fierce.
Be honest.
Be generous.
Be you.

Poem: Sing My Sister

Sing sister.
Your words and song flow through the night air,
enfolding me, warming me,
and I'm surrounded in wisdom and love.

Yes, sing sister.
I ache to have your harmony added to mine,
to know my story isn't solitary and to be kept in silence.

I am awed by you.
Moved by you.
Your words, your arms, the song of your soul
seem to stir my blood again.
I am awakened by your light
and the soporific blankets of denial and irresponsibility
are pulled off my sleeping spirit.

"Come!" you call.
"Heal and live" – you beckon.
"Seize this chance of becoming…
And push yourself to open, to grow" – you challenge.

Your voice so siren-like and intoxicating
pulls me forth.
I tremble -- fearing the deaths that must come
in order to truly live.
But you sense and see and steady me.
And there's a warmth I've seldom known in your eyes.
I'm not alone.
I'm truly not alone and love is real.
Ah sing on sister…
you give me the strength to dream.

Poem: Sweet One

Sweet one…
angel that should be kissed
by heaven and showered in love’s light.
You shine radiant in this land’s stormy night.

For your heart is a force unstoppable,
your gentleness a balm on the tears and heartache.
Hope is your eternal offering.
Love flows forth from your smile.
And in your eyes
I can see
the abundance of my blessings.

You see into my promise
when my own eyes can’t begin to imagine.
Such blessed charity
your reminder of my true being.
You grant me rest
from the self-hating lashings.

Haunted by the depth of your heart.
Surrendering at the feet of the one
who led me to believe.
Lost in awe of your beauty.
There I’ve found peace.

You…
who grants me grace
that every moment saves me.