the world for barbara

i'm dreaming and barbara is there. she's telling me that patrick is unkind and cyncical. "i know these things." i whisper. "be patient. he is lost right now. he needs to see the sunlight and dance beneath the harvest moon to music he hates shaking all the truth in him to light shaking all the dust from his cold cold heart."

i keep waking and it's better all the time. i can feel sunlight strapping across me as my eyes flutter open i slither out of bed and press out a pot of coffee meandering in to read diaries read the souls and private thoughts of the world around me about me in every tiny crevace of human emotion and know that all of this is for the best. we are the lucky ones.

there is a few new entrties from barbara (moonrattles)and my heart jumps. it is always best when i can wake to reading her words so barely typed only half there (it's like her fingers only glaze across the top of the keyboard to grace us with the light of words).

she tells me "I wanted to cry for love. I am. Mostly out of hopelessness. I hate living a life with Patrick. He is such an ugly person." and i wish i could use the gold leaves to wipe every tear from her eye.

i want to tell her to lean heavy on jake. lean heavy on adoration. on appreciation. not to fail (ever) to let people know you love them and (maybe more important) to bask in the love they provide for you.

i want to tell her to her to live in moments when someone tell her she can do anything. they are the best moments in life. i want to tell her i love her. but what she needs more than anything isa purpose. what she needs is to feel needed. needed in the stupid way that stacking books on a shelf or counting back change to people who buy a non fat latte can give.

it's easy to feel hopeless when all you live with live for seems to go nowhere.

it doesn't, but it sometimes seems that way.

i wish i could stand ont he corner of the universe handing out causes. handing out purposes that people can live for or die for accordingly. nothing brings a person to life the way a cause does.

we need people who make religion of stacking books on shelves. we need people who make religion of counting back change.

i want to tell her all these things. i want to tell her the world needs her. not people like her, but her. i want to tell her to live with josh again.

i want to tell er to resurrect her dreams. i want to tell her to raise them lazarus from the dead three days gone three days gone and rattle the dirt and angst and fear from them and lay back cradling them close and know that no one can take them from you. i want to tell her that everything will be okay.

and it will. it always is. what we fail to realize in life, is that like squirells, life and shelter is always plentiful. the world always provides. we must learn to trust in that. what squirels have that we don't is not tails or small brains but an understanding that the world is here to provide. it provides shelters for panthers and koala bears and rats and insects and creep crawly spiders, why would be the exception? there is enough love and light for all of us. enough fun to be had enough moonlihgt to bathe in if we only realize it.

the trick in life is realizing. not doing or being but realizing that you always did and have been. everything you've ever lkoved and wanted and hoped for was born in the depths of you, not hidden right there in your face, you just ignore it. you think life has to be hard life has to be full of fear. but there is nothing anywhere worth being afraid of.

buddhists focus a great deal on death. by many misunderstanding believers of other faiths this is considered maudlin and morbid, but it is truley a beauitful thing. they spend time realizing what it is and means to them. that life is temporary. that all things are impermanent. this allows themn to love every second of open eyes open hearts more. if you knew that you only hazd one chance at this would you waste your time on jealousy fear hate anger? is there anything worth not smiling about? i've said ti before and i'll say it again, we are the lucky ones. we are the ones with an entire universe of life holding on to us cradling us beggin us to rise to life and love it in every second.

even a car wreck is beautiful if you can realize what it means. that things happen. that things take place every day, they add color and life to what we often only call living.

the secret is to realize that everything you ever wanted or needed is there, has always been there, you needd only open yourself, open your eyes to it. it is not ugly, it is beautiful.

2002-11-20 | 9:39 a.m.
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