Bumps and Bruises

Authentically Me By D.T.K

Rise Up!  By Andra Day

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I watched them love each other, an untouchable kind of loved. They could finish each other’s sentences, when one stepped the other stepped, when they laughed it was in unison, when they sat together, their bodies seemed to melt into one, I was envious of their love and connection. It seemed perfect.

We all know perfect isn’t real, it isn’t possible. I think, people can get damn near close to perfect for themselves, what they desire in their life but I do not believe in perfect. Whether we have lots of questionable friends, no friends, perfect careers, no career, great relationships or one that’s on the rocks, too skinny or too heavy, fighting a disease, or all the in-betweens of these things and so many more scenarios.  I don’t believe in perfect.

I think I did believe in perfect as a child. However, things change…

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Loves…

Authentically Me By D.T.K

By A. Krauss[/audio

1166385719_7a896318b5_oI love the smell of old books and seeing notes on the edges of the page and highlighted areas, words and phrases that meant something to someone else.  The crunch of fall leaves.  I love raw and honest conversations that can catch two people off guard and the intimacy that occurs in those moments.  I love being surprised, spontaneous, risky and feeling safe in someone’s arms.  I love “heat,” the crackling sounds and smells that come from a wood stove.  I love to feel challenged mentally and physically. I love to surprise others! I love blankets.  Soft thick heavy blankets and being buried underneath them.  I love getting dressed up every once in a while.  But I can’t beat my love for yoga pants, Hudson jeans, and perfectly worn out sweatshirts. I love writing. I love words. But I do not like texts because things get complicated…

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Magnetic

In another time, our next escape?

You would open up to me, just a liitle more

Share with me

what’s on the inside of you

 

you would take me

to those places that

you hold on too

the places where you dream

places where you feel alive…

 

You would share…

more than hour or two

between crisp cotton sheets

tell me who you are

show me without words

 

you could be silent with me

–just be there

in each other’s closeness

quiet and safe

 

we never blame each other…

to play and to just be

you would need me

in a way that didn’t require words

 

something is getting closer,

that holds

what we are in secret and

to each other an undiscussed definition

 

never… really know when you will return

exhausted, worn, and mentally changed…

I can trust and wait

there is a magnetic pull

 

deep inside you alaways seem to

us coming and going

forward and backward

in and out of our own lives

 

your wisdom, strength, and Sincerity

in our words on a screen, I hear your strain,

your change in alliteration, single word responses

without asking……you summer,,,,undescribed… i hope

 

the ink of definitions

defining your life in pieces

you protect yourself – always on the go

what would happen if you stayed?

Gave yourself time

Rest, Reboot, revive, breath…

 

We would come full circle…

Before the adventure begins a new for you

Gone this time a month, a couple weeks –

Sometimes no answer –

 

Your spirit, your eyes, big heart –

the way you wrap your strong arms tightly

around me

 

Sneak away with me…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Life is a Beautiful Ride

By Gary Allen

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I woke this morning thinking of a friend of mine. The sound of rain hitting the window panes.  I have known her for 18 years maybe more.  I remember meeting her sitting across the table listening to her husband and my boyfriend rant on and on about farming. This was our first meeting.  We were both nervous if we would get along with the other.  By the end of the night we were peeing in the same stall calling each other best friends and how much we loved each other. She was in this amazing wool sweater and carried an awesome leather purse.  It all started with the a McMenamins Ruby beer.

I would say she is a very close friend of mine. Real friends last a lifetime and as corny as that sounds I truly believe it.  I have a few amazing friendships from high school that I adore and stay in contact with.  I can call them at any time and life just changes…they will show up no matter what. She is the same.

Although, I have not been friends with this particular friend for as many years.  It feels like a lifetime.  We have been through high high’s and some low low’s and still we find our way back to each other.  We continue on climbing the valleys and seeing amazing beauty in each other (I hope she feels that way J).  Or I sound like an ass J Ha!

She is one of the strongest women I know, she says; what she means- and that is, how it is going to be; without question.  She is the only woman I know who could actually kick a man’s ass no problem.  I have actually seen it almost go down.

She has beauty, spunk, fire and is so feisty.  She makes me laugh. Our memories are thick, deep, funny, emotional, but she is very dear to my heart. No matter what, if I called her I know she would be here if she could. She is completely an extrovert!! Opposite of me!

I am introvert down to my core! We have different ways communicate and solving problems.  She has very high expectations for the people in her life.  I respect her for that. I am lucky to know her.

Although we are very different and disagree on a few things here and there-our relationship has been steadfast despite where we are and where we are going. We have had our children around the same time and they have a special bond. I could write a novel on our relationship, everything we have been through.

Recently, we went camping and she showed an amazing amount of strength and courage in a very serious situation.  She was strong, collected, and somehow as I helped I felt calmed by her.  Later, something happened again and as I was the in the place she was before.  I knew exactly what to do because of watching her moments early.  I shouted her name and she came running and wrapped her arms around me so tightly…. after things calmed, she asked me how I was….

I don’t know if she saw the tears in my eyes but who wouldn’t want a friend like this.

The next Ruby is on me!

Loves…

By A. Krauss[/audio

1166385719_7a896318b5_oI love the smell of old books and seeing notes on the edges of the page and highlighted areas, words and phrases that meant something to someone else.  The crunch of fall leaves.  I love raw and honest conversations that can catch two people off guard and the intimacy that occurs in those moments.  I love being surprised, spontaneous, risky and feeling safe in someone’s arms.  I love “heat,” the crackling sounds and smells that come from a wood stove.  I love to feel challenged mentally and physically. I love to surprise others! I love blankets.  Soft thick heavy blankets and being buried underneath them.  I love getting dressed up every once in a while.  But I can’t beat my love for yoga pants, Hudson jeans, and perfectly worn out sweatshirts. I love writing. I love words. But I do not like texts because things get complicated, and thing become misinterpreted. I love exploring different environments – places I have never been, farms, fields, cities, and towns. Even more I love the high old growth trees that get lost in the sky, I love how they creak when the wind blows – the rain that drips from the needles… under these trees I would love a secret a place I only know about.  A place that was mine.

Changes of Color

Back by D. Bently 

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The trees change color around me

leaves fall and I feel that each

floats like a feather to the moist ground

gracefully carrying us to the new year

 

yellow, orange, and deep red

surround me in this foreign patch of

grass-tall fir trees tower above

 

they creak as the wind blows them

this and that way…

pacific northwest winds swoop in

the cool breeze brushes my bare arms

my grandfather’s military green sweater

oversized, itchy wool, a bit musty

wraps me in memories

 

barefoot I stand,

soil cold and wet

pine needles cover the path

McDonald Forest is my place

of solitude this morning

 

I look up to the sky

guarded by tree branches

eyes closed I can picture

beyond the pine needles

 

comforted by the silence

I walk for about an hour

and then back again

wind picking up and the chill

makes me quiver and shake

 

my worries swirl around me

stolen by the air

time comes to mind

I try to push it out

forcefully, I fail

 

the hustle and bustle not forgotten

I was unaware for hours

In the breeze, in nature

nothing seems to matter

where I can just be stand

in this moment

d.t.k

Simple…

Sometimes it takes a new perspective to slap you across the face and wake you up.  I don’t mean…a strong cup of coffee-type wake up, I mean…running into a brick wall at full speed ahead-wake up.

The same things happen day in and day out, there are seasons in everyone’s lives whether they are farmers, teachers, real estate agents, the list could go on and on.  Everyone has a busy time and every one has a slower time.  I can appreciate everyone’s busy and slow times-its about what you choose to do in those extra minutes that makes up the surprises in your life.  The sparks, the twinkle you see in someone’s eye, the way someone smiles, or doing something for someone else expecting nothing in return.

Pay attention, people!  We are surrounded every week by hundreds of people if you take the time to pay attention to others.  Yesterday I was in the grocery store and I notice an older woman in a wheelchair putting back groceries as she added her items up with her coupons.  I could see she was trying to figure out what she “wanted” and what she “needed”. My heart ached for her, I wanted to say something but I didn’t.  I didn’t want her to feel embarrassed or offended by my reaching out to her.  Or was it that I was projecting those feelings of mine onto her.  My observation was she was was struggling.

As I continued to fill my cart with things that I needed and things that were not a necessity, I continued up and down the aisles, I passed the woman two more times. As I walked up and down the fourth aisle, I realized there was absolutely nothing in my cart that I or my family had to have in that exact moment.  Maybe, the milk, the eggs but I knew none of those things were something that my family needed to survive for the next few days.

Selfishly, I walked to the checkout and started unloading my cart as I stood there waiting for my total, I saw the woman waiting three people behind me in line.  Something in my gut told me to do something, it was instinctive.  The guilt I was feeling walking around the store slapped me in the face. I decided, there is nothing I can do to change her life but I can at least help her pay for her groceries.  I bought a gift card and asked the employee helping me to please give it to the women waiting in the line.  The employee smiled and thanked me.

I left the store feeling pretty good, feeling blessed that I am able to provide for my family, and that we all can probably live on a lot less than we do.  I am challenging myself to do something like this every week for someone…it doesn’t have to involve money…sometimes it’s as simple as picking up the phone and reaching out to someone you know is struggling, or stopping and smiling at someone.

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Wanted

summer rainI love the smell of old books and seeing notes on the edges of the page and highlighted areas, words and phrases that meant something to someone else.  The crunch of fall leaves.  I love raw and honest conversations that can catch two people off guard and the intimacy that occurs in those moments.  I love being surprised, spontaneous, risky and feeling safe in someone’s arms.  I love “heat,” the crackling sounds and smells that come from a wood stove.  I love to feel challenged mentally and physically. I love to surprise others! I love blankets.  Soft thick heavy blankets and being buried underneath them.  I love getting dressed up every once in a while.  But I can’t beat my love for yoga pants, Hudson jeans, and perfectly worn out sweatshirts. I love writing. I love words. But I do not like texts because things get complicated,

And nothing comes misinterpreted. I love exploring different environments – places I have never been, farms, fields, cities, and towns. Even more I love the high old growth trees that get lost in the sky, I love how they creak when the wind blows – the rain that drips from the needles… under these trees I would love a secret hideaway. The bottom of those timbers some what primitive.  A ranch-style getaway like the one I grew up in. I love teaching. I love learning. Being inspired and inspiring others.  I love sister trips and the Martin clan trips.  I love watching my boys grow. A new love – watching them play basketball. I love that tipsy feeling where one let’s their walls down and becomes completely raw, they bare themselves naked. I love the way laughing with someone makes me feel.  I love hot showers. I love rearranging furniture. All kinds of music…different cultures.  I would love to take a year and travel with no certainty of where I might end up next.  I love laughing, laughing in an intimate situation, sometimes quietly in inappropriate situations because that is the only way I will get through. I love my family.  I love reconnecting with old friends and connecting with new ones. I love the depth of someone’s eyes. I love a good bottle of wine, lemon drops but my go to is beer. Hot tubs, walking in the rain, I love feeling loved without needing the words, I love looking through someone’s view of the world, their faith, life plan, and listening. Candlelight. Little spoons. Meeting a new person and feeling a connection in the first moments. Confidence but not arrogance. Swimming. Words. Volleyball. Cross-Fit. I love laying between the sheets. I love someone else making me coffee. I love a clean house. I love the smell of hops in August. I love taking life not to seriously – there is a time and place for all things in life but letting go and getting out of my head is indescribable. Being real.  Being who I am and having courage without worrying about what others may think. I love the sound of an acoustic guitar. I love dive bars. I have started piano lessons and I love it!  I love being with someone when I can watch them drift to sleep. I love truly knowing someone. I love living!! I love being surprised but this doesn’t happen anymore.

I think, I got this…

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It’s been awhile.  Harvest is always a terribly busy time.  Every year I tell myself, “I got this” and every year near the end of harvest, I am trying to keep my head just above water for me to breath and the statement “I thought, I had this” always comes rushing back.  After nine years, I still feel this. I write things down every year in my own secret “diary” so to speak, of ways I think I can prepare for the next year, what I could have done different this season, and I honestly have not perfected it yet.  I don’t know if I ever will but I wasn’t raised to be a quitter. There is always hope for next year and I have eight months give or take, to make a new plan.

Inevitably everyone can apply this feeling, this sense of drowning– in their lives, careers, next chapters, finances, and relationships, etc. At some point, I believe most adults have felt this way in their lives. But it is up to each of us to decide whether we will sink or float.  Sometimes it can be an agonizingly long process because the decisions need to be weighed equally, both sides need to be looked at and mentally calculated with precision and the time comes when we have to un-tie the cement blocks around our ankles and kick like hell to get our heads above water.

And as the tip of our nose, lips, chin, eyes open and we gasp for that first breath…that is the moment our decision has been made (take the leap, shit or get off the pot, or whatever reference works for you) is where instinctively, we know which decision we are going with…of course, there will be an adjustment period but moving forward with our gut feelings is what we all should pay a little more attention too.

Once we take that first step, we may be knee deep in the dark unchartered waters pulling those cement blocks forward again but our heads are above water.  We have chosen and in that choice we all begin to create a different and new sense of comfort.

There is an infinite amount of decisions and choices we can make in our lives, they will affect the people around us and that is always something to consider but in my last days I would hope that my decisions were unselfishly chosen, my family always felt love from me, that I never intentionally tried to hurt someone, and most of all, that I was proud of the way I lived. Lots of adventure, risk-taking, and a whole lot of lovin’.