Where Has Your Journey Taken You?

"I feel like sometimes I am walking the thin line. 
All around me god is kissing the earth.. 
and I notice how delicate her lips are.
 You can't help but tilt your head back, 
close your eyes and hope it rains; its a firece thing to live.
Sometimes the color of her mouth makes me hurt all over. "

Sometimes the color of his mouth makes me hurt all over....

Long Ago.

I yearn for him like a lonely child for comforting arms; 

When the moon is at it's highest peak and the stars shimmer against that ebony background...

That is when I miss him most.

I miss him from the depths of my soul.
While lying in a hammock, without his body there;
No sweet fingers to trace my own.
Or cool water to share our sips.
I miss the laughter that filled the air. 

The never ending strolls. 
Endless looks and stories being told. 
I miss the feel of his body; 
The soft yet rough, sun worn skin. 
How his muscles were lines to trace.
I miss those deep brown eyes. 
Deep and endless just like his soul.
I miss his braveness.
Silly questions. 
Delicate lips. 

I miss the touch of his soft hands caressing my body. 

It makes me think back to when his tender lips traced my curves with soft kisses 

And how the sweat dripped off his face as it rolled down his brow.
"You smell like earth and blossoms," he would whisper in my ear.  

Oh how I long to feel his hair brush my cheek or to taste him--- 

To taste the sweetness of his kiss or the salt of his skin... 

To breathe him in like the ocean air.
I can still smell the water on his skin like it was yesterday. 
And that is when my heart swells with emotions...

When I smell that salty sweet ocean scent.

To remember colors and feelings, laughter and joy, and the beautiful memories I'll never forget...
It takes me back to that place but it has been so long ago, I almost can't remember where...

Soul mate.

"People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life.

A true soul mate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then leave.

A soul mate’s purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life…"

Vulnerable, Bold, Raw.

The story isn't over until there isn't a breath left in our lungs; remember that were not dead yet. 
And remember that our story has yet to be told between the two us.
From us to the world. 

The distance tastes like medicine....and a spoonful of sugar makes it go down...

And I lost my heart way back then, lost my mind, found my soul.
I fell in love way back then, lost my heart and found my soul.

We'll watch the lights out over the water and watch the city glow.
We'll dive right in knowing that we may be empty, and that we may be hollow.
But it won't matter because with one another we are whole. 

It's searching for the comforting thought. 
It's searching for the comforting arms. 
I'ts searching for the warmth in my heart.

It's a final goodbye. 
One last time to know it's over.
One last time until life lets us cross again.

It's knowing that no matter what we do the feelings do not ebb away.

The endless laughter we have shared.

And listening to our sweet breath in time. 

Memories not soon forgotten. 

Moments were seconds 
That felt like hours 
And it was breathtaking.

I miss your soap smelling skin, 
Yet I am reminded that I am just a drop in your ocean and a voice in your crowd, 
And home is your heart and it makes me tremble.  
But you don't know it and never will.

I won't make you anymore tired, I don't think you'll ever reach me.
Or is it that I won't make myself anymore tired knowing that I'll never reach you...

I try to live in a painting...
A painting of brushstrokes and watercolor. 
And hopefully time can paint the best of me while I flip through my memories. 
Trying to chase my own dreams.

This world is. 
Puzzling. 
Questioning.
Amazing.

What an amazing world it is.

The people.
The ideas.
The memories of the past.
And that time takes away the pain eventually.

So I'll leave you with a thank you...
And hope that the paltry simplicity of those two words might convey the depth it should truly project.
And knowing that it is so amazing to explore a person;
Break down the barriers 
To see the real them. 
Vulnerable, 
Bold, 
Raw.

The Law of Attraction

Energy.

Our thoughts are energy.  We send out hundreds of thousands of pulses of energy just by a thought.

Positive thoughts. Positive reactions.
Negative thoughts. Negative reactions. 

How is it that something so simple as thinking can bring about life changing events. 
If we want something so much we can make it happen. 
The same says for things we don't want; think about it enough...it will happen.

Think about it.  

We think something; we think about it and think about it and the vibrations of our thoughts echo through time and space and the parallels line up and the universe provides. 

We are what we think, not what we think we are.

To control our thoughts is a terrifying thing. 
How often do we think...
but not really think.

As long as we are mindful, good things can happen. 
And it all starts in our mind.

Be mindful and the universe will provide. 

A Taste Of Home

What is home?

I went home two months ago for a week to tell my family goodbye and to get my belongings to move to my new home. I talk to my family at least once a week. I don't talk to my dad quite like I want to though. But I know everytime I have talked to him since Spring he has told me of this garden he was working on. He was SO proud of this garden and told me about all the different fruits and vegetables he was planting. He told me of the hours of labor he was putting it. All the tilling and hoeing.. all the rain that was coming...that was becoming to much. His constant battles with raccoon, deer, and coyotes. My dad is a story teller and when I say that I mean it in the since of he can tell a story like no other. The details and  the way he told it I imagined this garden great and amazing. When I pulled up at the house after a two hour drive I was BLOWN away by this garden! It was unreal. It was my dads pride and joy. Corn and beans, berries and melons. peppers upon peppers. I walked past the garden and walked past this tiny black cat. Bailey is his name. My step mom had told me tons about this cat. I walked in the house and immediately the smell of home cooked meal passed my nose. I looked down and my dads work boots were next to the door.  My step mom, Tonya, in front of the stove cooking up a storm. My dad came down the hallway and  gave me the biggest hug I had had since I left for Colorado. It was so nice being home. Nothing had changed and it was perfect.

One of my sisters and her husband and daughter were there to say hello. Dad made steaks for dinner and we all ate until we couldn't breathe. We talked about adventures I had been on and they talked to me and offered there better advice for some of the dumber things I had done. We talked of my new house and work. We talked about if I would move home and they encouraged me to follow my dreams and do what was going to make me happy. They told me how proud they were and how they couldn't think of anything better I could be doing at this time in my life. It was so hard to keep tears back while they said all these amazing things.

After dinner Dad and I decided to walk around the garden so he could show me everything. We just walked around and looked for ripe tomatoes and watermelons. I itched to pick everything; ripe or not.

                                                                                                                           
I found my way to the blueberry bush and ate handfuls at a time. So sweet and delicious.  My niece had joined us at this point. We picked them together and shared some laughs and smiles.  Alabama summer days; I forgot how hot they were. My dad went back inside and so did my niece. I walked around for a bit and with every step I took I almost felt like I could swim through the air. But all I could do was smile. I had missed home so much and my heart was full now that I was here.

                                                                                                                                  We spent the rest of the afternoon and night just chatting and catching up. We ate watermelon freshly cut. My dad stayed up late with me just talking about randomness. I slept in my brothers old room. That was the best sleep I had gotten in months. I was home....

I now know what home is...

It took me leaving it and not thinking I had it for a while to realize...

It's knowing everything bad disappears when you walk in the door. It's smiling for no reason. It's hugs and kisses... lessons and advice. It's muggy air and the smell of sweet cut grass..clothes hanging on the line. It's holidays and meals. It's sharing tears of happiness and sadness.. Its cooking meals together. It's caring, being cared for and conversations. Home is a family that loves you and supports you unconditionally, knowing you can do wrong, but not be judged. It's teaching. It's drinking sweet tea on the porch and telling stories until the cicadas come out to sing you there afternoon songs.  And no matter where you are....It's there.

Its everything that I have... 

The Start A Simple Touch

One night to be confused
One night to speed up truth
We had a promise made
Four hands and then away

Both under influence
We had divine scent
To know what to say
Mind is a razor blade

To call for hands of above
To lean on
Wouldn't be good enough
For me, no

One night of magic rush
The start a simple touch
One night to push and scream
And then relief

Ten days of perfect tunes
The colors red and blue
We had a promise made
We were in love

To call for hands of above
To lean on
Wouldn't be good enough
For me, no

To call for hands of above
To lean on
Wouldn't be good enough

And you, you knew the hands of the devil
And you, kept us awake with wolf teeth
Sharing different heartbeats
In one night

To call for hands of above
To lean on
Wouldn't be good enough
For me, no

To call for hands of above
To lean on
Wouldn't be good enough
For me, no

Here's What Our Parents Never Taught Us...

A beautiful person wrote these words...She inspires me. 

"Here’s what our parents never taught us:

You will stay up on your rooftop until sunlight peels away the husk of the moon, chainsmoking cigarettes and reading Baudelaire, and you will learn that you only ever want to fall in love with someone who will stay up to watch the sun rise with you. 

You will fall in love with train rides, and sooner or later you will realize that nowhere seems like home anymore.
A woman will kiss you and you’ll think her lips are two petals rubbing against your mouth.

You will not tell anyone that you liked it. It’s okay.
It is beautiful to love humans in a world where love is a metaphor for lust.

You can leave if you want, with only your skin as a carry-on.
All you need is a twenty in your pocket and a bus ticket. All you need is someone on the other end of the map, thinking about the supple curves of your body, to guide you to a home that stretches out for milesand miles on end.

You will lie to everyone you love. They will love you anyways.
One day you’ll wake up and realize that you are too big for your own skin.

Molt. Don’t be afraid.

Your body is a house where the shutters blow in and out against the windowpane.
You are a hurricane-prone area. The glass will break through often.
But it’s okay. I promise.
Remember, a stranger once told you that the breeze here is something worth writing poems about."

-Robin

Sally The Music Teacher.

I boarded the plane and sat alone on my row. The seats to my right empty. The plane was supposed to take off within 10 mins and the traffic of people boarding was none.  
Right before we were to take off a petite woman slightly older than I am entered the hull. I wondered if she would sit in my row, and behold, she did. 
Her hair was almost like a boys; short and brown, a little dirty, but was very delicate and feminine.

She was wearing rimless glasses and a bright yellow large cable knit cardigan with the biggest buttons I have ever seen. I remember looking at her pants. Shorter yet flared, a light grey color with large white locust flowers embroidered on them. 

I stood up and let her into my row. She pulled out a book of her backpack before she put her bag away and then situated herself into the seat. We briefly chatted about how maybe we'll have the row to ourselves, and we did. 

When we knew we had it we kicked off our shoes and got comfortable in our tiny plane seats. The lady behind be must have had long knees due to the amount of times my chair would move forward in a 3 minute interval.  

We sat and talked of our homes and where we were heading. She was going to Kentucky to see her brother. I was going to Alabama to see my family. She lived in San Francisco, but was from New Hampshire. We were at the Denver Airport. 

She was a music teacher. We talked about children since we both worked with them. We talked about jobs and dreams and how we ventured to where we are now. She told me about her dyslexic issues that makes it hard for her to read. We talked about reading. Lots about reading and books. Talked about how amazing they are and the joy of being lost to a book for hours. I admired her for the way she struggled to read but still pushed herself to try. She was reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. Every time I looked over at her she was so far deep into that book that it amazed me. She offered to let me read an extra one in her bag if I got bored. 

It was about an hour into the flight and we decided to share a box of snacks. Cheese, crackers, turkey jerky, and almonds. We laughed at the gourmet spread of the airplane. She asked how me and my other met. I told her the story and she loved it. We both decided we would try and sleep, that lasted a grand total of 30 minutes and we gave up. 

We then realized we were on the final descent of our flight. We buckled our belts up and hit some turbulence. We wearily looked at one another and then ahead then laughed. Talked about how terrible and terrifying that would be and then didn't speak of it anymore. We watched out the window as we lowered down past the clouds and watched the rain hit the ground. 

The plane landed and we chatted a little more. We started talking of books again. She pulled out the book she had offered me earlier. I can't for the life of me remember the name of it but I do remember the cover. A mouse with a tiny sword in his hand. We both laughed about this mouse and then I realized I had talked to this perfect stranger for 2 hours...told her about my life and everything in it and didn't even know her name. So I asked. 

"Sally," she said with a smile. I told her it was a pleasure meeting her and told her mine. 

As we talked about our next steps in our night the plane started to unload.
I left before she did. "It was great chatting with you Sally. Safe travels to you."
"Have a great life Kat, wonderful meeting you." She said as I walked away. 

All I could do was smile. 

How refreshing it is to meet someone and share so much. Our paths crossed that night for a reason and I may never know. The one thing I do know that people are amazing creatures.  Thanks for restoring that faith back into me, Sally the music teacher. 

Yellow, Be The Color Of My Day...

Yellow, be the color of my day...