Sunday, March 17, 2013

Making Peace

“You can accept or reject the way you are treated by other people, but until you heal the wounds of your past, you will continue to bleed. You can bandage the bleeding with food, with alcohol, with drugs, with work, with cigarettes, with sex, but eventually, it will all ooze through and stain your life. You must find the strength to open the wounds, stick your hands inside, pull out the core of the pain that is holding you in your past, the memories, and make peace with them” ~~~~~~~
~Iyanla Vanzant~

Thursday, January 31, 2013


The ego says, you are not worthy enough....who are you? You were born of peasants, far from the castle gates of royalty and privilege.....Who are you? I quietly breath and explain, I am one who feels and thinks with her heart. I have compassion for all my brothers and sisters, and for all creatures great and small. My mind tells me I am nothing, yet I know that I am everything....for I am love and love is all there is....I take from the past, I live this day in the moment and to the fullest, and I look far into the future, because if we are indeed fortunate enough to experience the turbulent times ahead..... we must embrace the person we are today.....and love ourselves, so that we may have the capacity to love the rest of humanity, especially when they have forgotten how to love themselves..... ♥ ~Vita~

Tuesday, January 29, 2013

~One With Love~

It's not like you can just make love go is love, and no matter if you try to kill it with hate, or starve it from lack of feeding, or suffocate the last breath of life out of it.... Love withstands and endures.....It will not go away because you want it to. I suppose, the best we can do, is to absorb it into our being, and become one with love...Let it settle into our heart, body, and soul...and simply become one with it, because being at war with love, is a losing battle..... ♥

Friday, January 11, 2013

The Warning

I think what bothered me most was the way she looked at me, like I was some hungry, poor barefoot child who couldn't care for herself. She came to warn me, because she thought I was a good and kind woman, and one who shouldn't be subjected to someone who didn't have my best interest at heart. She said to me, "Be careful of this man, because you are right up his alley. He preys on women like you, who are trusting and vulnerable, and he likes them long, lean, and attractive. You are precisely what he looks for in a woman." She knew I was newly separated from my husband and starved for attention. She knew I was a wounded woman and would welcome any kind of empathetic attention from someone so charming, so loving.....What she didn't know was that it was much too late. I had already gifted my heart to him, all tied up in a purple bow and hand delivered .... There is nothing more humiliating and heart-wrenching than to know that you have given your heart over to one who preys on tender women.....women who have been disenchanted, hurt, deceived, and made to feel less than worthy....You gave your heart over willingly, like a child, to a heart collector...... Now, should I thank this woman for her compassion....because she felt compelled to warn me of him ....or do I despise her for destroying my illusion of love?

Send in the Clowns

I suppose you can say that I'm a wee bit touched in the head......I mean, who the hell isnt? Especially in this modern day world that spins much too fast, so fast that it sometimes makes me naseuous and dizzy. I've never been a fan of carnival rides and circus clowns, and yet, here I am, on a perpetual roller coaster ride surrounded by a myriad of painted faces, exaggerated personas mimicking a cornucopia of different emotions. Happiness, sadness, mischieviousness, innocence, and perversion, to name a few, looming in and out of my line of clown more absurd than the next. What are they hiding, this cast of characters, behind their make-up I wonder? But I am doing the same thing......each morning I stand before my bathroom mirror. I meticulously paint on my face, step by step, red lips the final touch.......I paint on my happy face to show the world that I am okay....and like most clowns....hiding behind pain that is not palpable, but hurts just the same........ I suppose you can say I'm a wee bit touched in the head.....but at least, I can see through my make-up.....Can you see through yours?             ~Vita~

Monday, January 7, 2013

~and then there was nothing~

~There was nothing......just a deep dark void of velvety blackness. No one spoke to me, there were no words of love, consolation, or forgiveness, there was absolute nothingness. But I wasn't yet dead, though I wasn't alive....breathing..... yes, because that is what the body does with or without our permission. I was enveloped in thick total darkness, without sound, without thought, without fear, without feeling anything. There were no demons to drag me to the depths of hell, and no Angels to mercifully lead me back home.....This is what purgatory must be like, because I pray there is something more glorious awaiting us when we exhale our last breath....After all that mortal life puts us through, there has got to be something more, doesn't there? I think maybe, if we can create our own personal hell, then we ought to be able to create our own personal heaven, here on earth.....we can try to, if nothing else.....we can try with every fiber of our being.~

Thursday, January 3, 2013

~The Gift~

You take this gift that was given you, all wrapped up in shiny, glittery paper, tied with silken ribbon, and presented to you with thoughtful hesitation, humility, love.......At first you are pleased, thankful, and sing songs of praise. You proudly wear your new gift as a king wears his crown, in full glory, for all the world to admire....but slowly, in time, you decide that your gift no longer suits your needs, and you tire of it. How do you return such a gift you ask yourself, without being perceived as ungrateful and insensitive, without insulting and hurting the one who so graciously bestowed the gift upon you, given to you with pure heart, as a child gives a hand-picked flower to her mother.....There is no way to give back the gift of love without consequence, without matter how consoling and apologetic the return... ~Vita~