Sleeping Through Storms

Page 51 of my book Lessons From Nature: Poetry, Prose, & Photography

I stepped outside this morning and was shocked to see 

broken branches scattered on the ground from the trees.
I had evidently slept through yet another violent storm
which seemed to be for me the ordinary norm.

I listened to others who’d say there was loud thunder,
How do I sleep through it all? I still wonder.
There was scary sounding wind and lots of lightning.
I’m sure it must have been extremely frightening.

At any time, a funnel could have taken form
– the most unpredictable part of a storm –
but isn’t this what I’ve done with my thoughts?
Creating tornadoes whenever I felt lost?

At one time, I cried many tears while I rained
I wonder if nature had felt my agonizing pain.
I remained awake through all the hardship and strife
that blew from all the trees of my life.

The maintenance man drove around in his golf cart,
picking up all the debris with his conscientious heart.
Perhaps the cleanup process doesn’t have to be complicated
as I visualize dirty stormwater of memories being decontaminated.

I could always grow new branches of memories –
trim the trees of my mind and burn the scattered debris.
After all, I didn’t endure wars, tornadoes, or floods,
and trees will always find a way to sprout new buds.

Escape

The load was too heavy for me to carry, like a sack of bricks with sharp edges. I stumbled from the weight of accumulated stress.

No matter how many times I moved to another location, leaving behind what I couldn't take with me, the bricks of pain followed me like a shadow.

They built their own house while I attempted to build mine, sabotaging my carefully made plans.

Stronger than the house I built, not even the big bad wolf of my determination could blow their house down.

I yearned to escape.

Escape the pain of rejection by people I loved who were not capable of loving me.

But the void remained like a shadow.

The guilt I felt for leaving continued to weigh me down.

My body got too heavy, with the energy of pain lingering long after my escape.

The eject button got stuck.

The holocaust of entrapment snared every attempt… like super glue.

Just like I remain connected to the ones who have passed on, I remain connected to those I left behind.

I remain connected to the parts of me I left behind.

The only way out is through.

The only way through is with courage and love.

Our Minds

Image: When the creek rose in 2019.

At the beginning of the week, I wanted to show someone a contract signed by myself and management regarding the TNR (trap, neuter, release) program for the small group of cats I care for. I couldn't find it. HOW CAN I NOT FIND IT? It's supposed to be filed in the TNR folder. I am supposed to file every piece of paper in the correct place. I caught my old sabotaging inner voice saying... "If you filed this one in the wrong place, what else did you file in the wrong place? What if you file something else in the wrong place?"

The next thing I knew, I was pulling out file folders, one at a time, one day at a time, looking through them, and asking... "Why am I keeping this? And this? And that?" And I started a pile of all the pieces of paper I no longer needed along with manilla filing folders I didn't need to reuse. Many of these pieces of paper only had one line underlined (think travel and finance). 

The next thought that popped into my head was Google Docs! Google Sheets! I can create documents with all this information instead of saving all this paper. In addition to all the Google Docs I already had, I created one for all my travel information and history. Yes, I had saved all my airline and amtrak tickets as well as itineraries, notes, and articles.

Just like I obsessively work on a jigsaw puzzle until two in the morning until every last piece is in its place, I found myself going through every sheet of paper... in my whole filing cabinet. But I must tell you that I recently completed a volunteer project that included doing the same thing for four crates of file folders full of paper. You could say I got hooked... although I still haven't located the piece of paper I was searching for. 😞

I got to a folder with writing projects. I found two pages from a journal I kept when I was a teenager... that included poetry I was writing. I had published most of my poetry in my two poetry books, but I evidently missed these. 

Our Minds. I was 17 when I asked all these questions. I am now 65. I can't comprehend being 17... before I read all the books I have read... listened to all the webinars and videos I listened to... took all the classes I took... discovered all the wise souls I discovered on social media... met all the people I have met and gotten to know... to know to ask the questions I asked to begin with. And all these years, I have been seeking the answers to them all. 

(I originally wrote the following in multiple lines as poetry vs the prose it is here.)

Our Minds

A young mind is as changeable as the weather, as fluttered as a bird learning to fly, as open as the air, as deep as the sea. What does a young mind become in days gone by? Does it become weary with age, hardened by time, or frozen in its ways? Were we made to understand or to accept, listen or be heard, sacrifice or save? What is in a young mind? Is it young forever? What lives in a young heart? Were we meant to be taught or to learn, fight or surrender, come together or apart? What do we do with our love, with loneliness and hate? When do we reach the top of the mountain so we can start down again and be happy with what we’ve found? When is it too late? 

No wonder I didn't have any friends. I couldn't find anyone who could connect to my thoughts. I didn't know anyone I could share philosophical ideas with. I was a 65-year-old 17-year-old. Imagine what life could have been like if I found a community of poets back then. I've met many young poets who have minds like I did... and still do. 

I am going to attempt to answer my own 17-year-old questions... as if I am talking to my younger self. 

What does a young mind become in days gone by? Does it become weary with age, hardened by time, or frozen in its ways? I don't know. I am the age I am and every age I ever was. There were times when my mind was weary due to illness, brain cells destroyed by prescription medications, times when my mind was hardened due to difficult experiences, and the part that froze were based on conclusions I made that I eventually found out weren't necessarily true... which led to my challenging those conclusions. Question everything. Keep a journal.

Were we made to understand or to accept, listen or be heard, sacrifice or save? All of these. Life gets complicated. I wish I was taught these concepts when I was in school instead of history, science, and geography.

What is in a young mind? Is it young forever? It is apparently ever-changing depending on the people we spend time with and the stages of life we are in. My mother is now 90... childlike with dementia. I pray I don't end up that way. And then I question... if I pray I don't end up that way, am I making judgments about how she is? I haven't been able to see her as my mother since this happened to her ten years ago. She is a sweet, very young child.... one who can also have tantrums when she is tired or hungry. She has people taking care of her. I doubt anyone would be taking care of me. The health care agency I have now is already short-handed. The media published recent articles on elder abuse and neglect awareness. So to ramble on, this points out to me that I have a fear of being alone and isolated when I am old. I've already survived many years of being alone and isolated so I know what that is like. I never want to experience that again. And like many other people, fear of the unknown can get to you. OK. Back to the present moment.

What lives in a young heart? Were we meant to be taught or to learn, I wasn't interested in being taught what I wasn't interested in learning. I enjoyed seeking out what I was curious about and learning at my own pace. I wish I had been home-schooled and didn't have to deal with the discomfort of public school. 

fight or surrender, Sadly, I surrendered. I didn't know I had the right to fight. I didn't know how to fight. I internalized my need to fight which resulted in autoimmune reactions. I am learning to be assertive... but it takes an adrenaline rush of fight or flight each time I take assertive action. I want some kind of magic to have the ability to just plain be assertive without the fear and adrenaline rush. Or otherwise... I want a personal bodyguard to do this for me.

come together or apart? Another complicated question to answer. Sadly, with each attempt at coming together, I mostly came apart... although life has been much more stable for the last few years. I have since learned about introverts vs extroverts (extroverts like to come together and introverts prefer to stay apart), Myers-Briggs personality types (some personality types love to be around people and some don't), DISC personality types (same as the one before), being an empath (I was unknowingly coming together with everyone I was surrounded with as well as everyone they were surrounded with and had to learn the art of recognizing when this was happening, centering, and coming back into myself... separate from everyone else. Apart.)

What do we do with our love, with loneliness and hate? I have read a lot of books on this subject. I sought love in all the wrong places... outside of myself... instead of looking within... which resulted in loneliness because no one outside of you can make you feel loved if you don't love yourself... and the hate is a natural consequence of feeling abandoned and abused by others who weren't capable of loving you because they don't love themselves. 

When do we reach the top of the mountain so we can start down again and be happy with what we’ve found? I don't know about you, but there was always another mountain to climb. Happiness was fleeting... a sense of excitement about a new discovery... only to fade away until I found the next treasure, person, or situation that would make me happy. Of course, now I have learned this is normal for my personality type.

When is it too late? Mmmm... maybe it is never too late. This is a topic for lots of philosophical discussions. There are moments I wish I could go back in time and say or do something different. What would have happened if I did? Would my life have taken a completely different path? In some cases, when I thought it was too late, I was surprised to find out it was not... so it depends on the situation... like growing lots of new brain cells after I thought they were permanently damaged and gone... and being able to walk again after five years of not... and watching the plants I thought had died coming back to life in the spring. What if "too late" is just an illusion? It's all in OUR MINDS.

New Release!!!

VIEW & BUY ON AMAZON

I am excited about my new book! The title is pretty much self-explanatory. Within a few days, the Look Inside feature will be activated on Amazon.

Book Description: Through many levels of spiritual and emotional growth, much time was spent in contemplation, reflection, observations, reflections, musings, and introspection of objects, wildlife, weather, pets, trees, flowers, clouds, and more. Words organized themselves into poetry and prose. Photography captured the moments.

Spider Web

Copyright © 2019 Renee Alter

SPIDER WEB

Oh, what webs we weave.
This amazing spider’s web which I caught with my camera,
inspired a variety of thoughts and conclusions.

Even though its fine threads are white, 

the spider leaves space to 

allow both light and color to show through,
and if I try hard enough, I can find
some light and color in my circumstances.

Even though the threads look delicate,
the web is much stronger than it appears.
And even though it feels like 

pieces of my body are falling apart,
my body is much stronger than it feels.

Even though we may think 

each of us as a single thread,
we are all intricately connected 

by the physics of the Universe.
I used to think I was a single thread, 

but with effort and persistence,
I have been able to build a web of my own.

Even though the web appears 

to be woven unevenly,
much like my life, 

it is still a masterpiece of perfection.
I just have to accept all the fragments of nature
that also get caught in the web.

The uneven design of the web 

is mesmerizing,
much like the videos I’ve watched of the
neurological networks of our brain synapses
and the energetic pulses between our cells.
The web is not solid, and neither are we.

One negative thought can 

trigger another negative thought 

from my subconscious mind,
and like a spider’s web, 

is connected to many other 

similar thoughts which is
why I can feel so overwhelmed,
feeling like I have been 

caught in a spider’s web
about to be eaten alive by life.

Then again, the web can be 

seen as a safety net if I let go of 

all I am trying to grasp

and trust in the divine plan.

And maybe the purpose of a web 

is more than it appears.
Maybe the spider wanted 

to catch more than a meal
And built a web that would also catch
fragments of nature 

for the purpose of providing

beautiful decorations for its home.

Maybe spiders have personalities, too.

Copyright © 2019 Renee Alter

Note: a fellow Reiki practitioner I knew from the past read this and responded: Webs are also used for PROTECTION. Visualize it around you. In Huna, we symbolically use a web for same.

Finding My Way

Once upon a time, I felt isolated.
I didn’t feel comfortable in my own skin.
As years went by, and I cried my cries,
I finally learned how to swim.

I learned words like empath and introvert,
providing me with new understanding.
I battled with the questions like, “Who am I?”
Boarded a new boat to a new landing.

Decades went by while I diligently searched
for answers to the meaning of life;
searching for a place to comfortably fit in
which included being somebody’s wife.

But who WAS I? The question remained,
and what is my purpose in the world?
My sense of direction was pretty poor…
and I didn’t mature from being a teen-aged girl.

Searching for love had been my priority.
I didn’t feel safe or secure at home.
But I took all my false beliefs with me into life
and wherever I managed to roam.

More years went by and I cried my cries…
depression was just a fact of life.
I didn’t realize how skilled I was manifesting
and manifested a lot of trials and strife.

Here I am today, almost 63 years old.
I finally met others who are just like me.
We are writers, poets, empaths, and introverts
all different, special, experienced, and unique.

I found meaning in new skills I learned
and passed these skills on with a sense of purpose.
An introvert I still remain, but now
wisdom commands I contribute to the life of the planet.

Positive psychology provided many answers
to ruminating about what I couldn’t change.
I learned the art of gratitude…
the compass that guides me through growing pains.

Every time I find myself judging,
I recognize I am also judging myself.
We are all miraculous beings so I must be, too…
one of many special books on a bookshelf.

The longer I live, the easier life seems to get. I wonder if everyone could get a glimpse of their future possible selves if this would make a difference in the time they are living now.

Cupid

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CUPID

Each time cupid struck me with an arrow,

I misunderstood her intentions.

Year after year, wound after wound,

I missed the wisdom of her revelations.

I wasn’t supposed to fall in love

and give away all my devotion--

I was supposed to fall in love with the best parts of me--

my own soul, feelings, and emotions.

I kept searching for the perfect other

who would make me feel complete.

Haven’t you? Can you relate?

After each encounter--feeling like a piece of meat?

Cupid, oh Cupid,

Along with all the fairies I’ve been collecting

To remind myself how much I am loved, cherished,

appreciated, and adored

By the Creator of my own reflection.

Copyright © 2018 Renee Alter

Written January 14, 2018

Divine Encounters

It’s intriguing how seemingly random meetings
Can transform into divine encounters
When the result of setting an intention
Magnetically attracts people and announcers.

When I intended to improve my health
From a place of self-love vs. self-loathing,
New information appeared on the net and new people moved into town
To show me it was possible to balance what had been previously eroding.

I removed a little of this, added a little of that
And became aware I had been jumping to conclusions.
Learning curves are difficult for everyone--
I needed to let go of my self-imposed expectations and illusions.

The money comes, the money goes--it circulates like your blood.
I must have faith in its unlimited flow
As I acknowledge I have no memories of old paid-off bills--
Only the amazing people I’ve gotten to know.

One day here, one day gone; seasons and years fly by, too.
Each morning when I put my feet on the floor;
Yesterday seems to fall into oblivion--it’s no more
Along with all the salty tears I left at the ocean shore.

Divine Encounters included sweet furry friends who chose me--
I hope I didn’t betray them when I had to leave them behind
And to this day, it seems the only tears I still cry
Are for the ones who silently and prematurely died.

Each day I am aware of Divine Encounters,
Surrounded by angels with and without wings.
I used to fear life more than I feared death
As I imagined heaven as eternal Spring.

I so look forward to each and every Divine Encounter--
The surprise of who I might meet and what they’d have to say,
Filling my memories with nourishing experiences
While I let the hurtful ones from the past fade away.

Copyright © 2018 Renee Alter

Getting Older

Copyright (c) 2018 Renee Alter

GETTING OLDER

Getting older means I no longer worry
about flirting or being sexy.
I no longer bend like a pretzel trying to earn
love and acceptance.
I no longer care whether I find another
boyfriend or stay single.
I no longer worry whether I am being a
good enough parent or whether people like me or not.

On the other hand, getting older means
hoping my body parts stay strong and healthy enough.
while I hope my granddaughter will come visit me
when she’s old enough to travel on her own.
Hoping I am surrounded by people
I can call on should I get sick or need help.
Hoping people brag about my writing so I can sell more books
and have a little more income to pay my bills.

I’d also like to travel and see more of our beautiful planet.
Hoping the friends I’ve made are keepers.
Hoping time doesn’t race by too quickly so I have a chance
to smell all the roses that have been blooming in my life.
Hoping I stay nice and don’t get mean when
I am REALLY old because it seems the older you get
the more true to yourself you become.
What if I still harbor resentment that may
escape from my voice at random moments?

Getting older means I will outlive many of the people
I care about although I know we will always be spiritually connected.
When I feel them in my heart with love it is as though they are still here.
And after I die I want to be in others hearts so they will always
feel me there -- so I can live forever.

Copyright © August 2017 Renee Alter

Matthew 6:25-34 "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life..."

It's been five months since I've stopped taking meds. I thought I was cured. When you take SSRI's & other meds for 15 years, they can have the same affects on you as doing hard drugs. I started falling apart. This is my story in prose
In July 2010, I cried out to GOD "PLEASE MAKE IT STOP!"

No more pain! No more medication! I WANT MY LIFE BACK!

I heard a voice in my head say go to the WELLS Laundramat.

This was not one of the hundreds of voices I hear in my head.

I went. Rafi was there and spoke to my heart so I did what she said.

She saw straight through my soul, said I was asleep, it was time to “WAKE UP”.

I wondered what she meant but I had reached the end of my rope and had enough!

I went to her house and she prepared me for what would come

She loaned me “Nine Faces of Christ” to read alone in my room til the process was done.

I read about a fictional Christ who endured endless trials of all kinds.

He kept me company while I endured the withdrawal and thought I would lose my mind.

All those trials prepared him for the Crucifixion and the final rush…

On the seventh day, I felt crucified and got zapped by GOD with a gush.

My brain chemistry shifted. Suddenly, I felt free.

Free of pain, free of anguish; I was energetic, strong and could clearly see.

The earth became my stomping ground after years of staying in bed.

I went out to discover all the people and hear what they said.

I pulled “Appearances” and my poetry out of their boxes,

New books started writing themselves while I detoxes.

I met musicians who played along with songs I’d been writing

And more angels appeared to show me how to make my life exciting.

But God wasn’t finished with me… two months later it all left.

All the sabotaging voices returned to mess up my head.

In “Questions” I had written “I am a seeker, a seeker of truth”

I searched endlessly for every piece of good news.

I began to struggle with money, and every trauma and fear returned.

I got amnesia, I crashed, and couldn’t remember anything I’d learned.

Religious confusion from many sources swarmed in my mind

I searched in all the wrong places (again) for peace I could not find.

I kept meeting more people who each said something I needed to hear

Seemed like post office parking lots were a favorite place for them to appear.

I met doctors of Natural Medicine who suggested alternatives to drugs,

Found out about vitamin deficiencies and started working out the bugs.

I met people who studied biology, psychology, philosophy, and believed in the Lord.

My racing mind tried to process every piece of information - I wasn’t bored.

One person said to reread “Appearances” the book I wrote when I was forty years old…

That the answers were in what I had already written... in the story I already told.

I went to talk to that person again another day searching for more.

He said “you still have a VOID” and I mentally fell through the floor.

I studied "Appearances" and reread all my poems.

I had detached from my soul which is why I had no memory of what I was shown.

I was trying hard to control my own life,

I had gone back to the old patterns of creating my own strife.

I called my soul back and within days of realizing this simple cure

More "angels?" began arriving to usher me through a new door.

A little unexpected money began to appear…

And a Jewish man called upon his Rabbi to declare my worth in a prayer.

It was the second time I was told to read about trusting God in Matthew 6:25-34

I used to know this all so many years ago and more!

Next a woman who majored in Psychology thought I had fractured from all life’s traumas--

If so, no wonder I was experiencing so many drama’s!

Include the traumas I had empathetically collected from my family and peers.

No wonder I was feeling so totally weird!

The next day a Christian woman told me I had taken on the burdens of all the ones I loved…

But Jesus died on the cross for us and it wasn’t my job!

She then said while I had been working frantically to pull all the weeds of despair

I left all the roots to grow back while I cried life wasn’t fair!

She suggested I read: Matthew 6:25-34
and put all my trust in the Lord!

I wish to encapsulate these solutions in a pill I can take

with all the other vitamins I’ve been given to swallow each day.