Today on Facebook, the Rumi page I follow posted this:
“You have to keep breaking
your heart until it opens.” ~ Rumi
Since I’m pretty sure the page is managed in another country, there was likely no relation to the quote and the mass shooting at the Dark Knight screening in Aurora, Colorado I woke up to hear about this morning. Still, when I read it, it struck me how relevant the message was to this new tragedy, not just for me, but for our nation. There has been another mass shooting. Twelve people were killed.
Just off the top of my head I recall the Gabby Gifford shooting spree in Arizona, the horrifying Virginia Tech massacre, the Muslim army guy who shot up the base in Forthood Texas, the guy who opened fire on Hollywood Blvd. just a few months ago, and of course, Columbine. A google search of mass shootings produces endless pages of documented cases that literally sends a chill right through me. Today, another heartbreak for the nation. The breaking point is in Colorado this time. Will this be the one to break us open?
It’s easy to agree with him, right? The appealing American zeal and righteousness of the statement resonates and I would even go as far as to say I totally agree. But I also have to shout, “Conundrum!!!” Hmmm, how do we differentiate between the good guys and the bad guys? Not to make old Charlie turn over in his grave right now, but his great quote makes a fantastic case for stronger gun laws. Gun control isn’t about disarming the people!! It’s about being as responsible as possible in an effort to protect society. As long as Virginia Tech, Dark Knight and even Treyvon Martin cases exist, we fail to protect society. How many more tragedies are we going to have to experience as Americans before we make some changes?
Today, Mayor Bloomberg tweeted, “Its time for presidential candidates to stand up and tell us what they will do about guns in America.” He went on to tweet, ”There’s something more important than getting elected, and that’s standing up and saying what you think is right.” Word, Mayor Bloomberg. Word.
The movie is called Dark Knight Rises, and I guess it did… I send prayers, love and light to the victims and their families. I also pray for peace. Everyday I pray for peace. Be safe dear readers. xo Dre
Oh to be a poet… I love poets. I always have. I’m pretty sure it all started with Dr. Seuss, who made books and language fun for me. Although I still adore Dr. Seuss, my tastes have evolved from the days I would beg my Daddy to please please please read me Green Eggs and Ham just one more time. In my budding adolescence I recall discovering Edgar Allen Poe. His beautiful Annabell Lee, his raven, and his ever creepy tell-tale heart had me thinking that he was the coolest most clever writer ever! Even then I had a thing for the dark, shadow side of humanity. In high school, I came to appreciate Shakespeare’s stories of love, betrayal and life lessons though comedy and tragedy, which I can say mirror my own experiences in love and life. In college there was the whole coffee house scene complete with complaint rock and emo spoken word performances describing harrowing anguish and the ever calamitous state of our world as only youth from the 90′s could tell it. I found validation, solace, and amusement in Jim Morrison,Oscar Wilde, Maya Angelou, ee cummings,T.S. Elliot, John Keats, Pablo Neruda, Rumi and others. But not all poets are from a time long before my own. Tupac,Notorious B.I.G., Steven Patrick Morrissey,Jill Scott, Tori Amos, and Prince are a few more of my favorite word magicians. Profound, prolific, thought provoking and inspiring… This is why I love poets. They use words to translate love, pain, loss, joy, apathy and every sentiment really. They mix language and emotion and string together sentences that can deeply touch the human spirit. Poets help us understand life the way only art can. To be a poet is to be able to experience life, and then write about it so that the rest of us can feel it.
This week I was given a poem written by Naomi Shihab Nye. I drank in this poem with a writer’s thrist. Its been with me since I read it a few days ago. I feel compelled to share it here. If I were a poet, I’d wish to write like Nye. I hope you enjoy it as much as I expect you will. Oh, and to all the poets out there, thank you for writing.
So Much Happiness by Naomi Shihab Nye
It is difficult to know what to do with so much happiness.
With Sadness there is something to rub against, a wound to tend with lotion and cloth.
When the world falls in around you, you have pieces to pick up, something to hold in your hands, like ticket stubs or change.
But happiness floats.
It doesn’t need you to hold it down.
It doesn’t need anything.
Happiness lands on the roof of the next house, singing, and disappears when it wants to.
You are happy either way.
Even the fact that you once lived in a peaceful tree house, and now live over a quarry of voice and dust, cannot make you unhappy.
Everything has a life of its own.
It too could wake up filled with possibilities of coffee cake and ripe peaches, and love even the floor which needs to be swept, the soiled linens and scratched records…
Since there is no place large enough to contain so much happiness, you shrug, you raise your hands, and it flows out of you, into everything you touch.
You are not responsible.
You take no credit,
as the night sky takes no credit for the moon, but continues to hold it,
I adore that Rumi quote. For me it carries with it such reverence and sacred love for another. I always imagined it was for a lover who Rumi worshiped, but now I’m thinking it isn’t necessarily romantic. That particular quote came to my mind tonight. I just spent some time with a dear friend who I view as someone who is centered, enlightened and frankly, for about 20 years, she has been a great teacher to me in this life. So much so that I have actually affectionately called herYoda for years.
Our talks vary on any given day. Among the myriad of topics of conversation, we exchange ideas about learning from our mistakes, business strategy, money, accountability, politics, Buddhism, and most anything that has to do with bringing our best selves to the world. Every time we part after one of our visits, I feel like she leaves me with little gifts of insight and inspiration I would not have had other wise. I am lucky to know her. Tonight we discussed, among other things, forgiveness.
My lesson from Yoda tonight was a prayer for forgiveness. I’d like to share the lesson with you so we can all try it and see if it works. Coming from Yoda, it probably will. To fill you in briefly I must tell you that I’ve been carrying around a significant amount of anger, resentment and general ill will toward a certain individual who in my view betrayed me, is evil, and is going to hell for sure. When I think of this person I often feel a physical sensation in my heart and throat that is a mixture of pain, anger, bitterness and disgust. My friend knows about this particular situation and this was the insight she brought to me tonight…
She recently attended a lecture/seminar here in L.A. given by Marianne Williamson, famous friend of Oprah and author of A Return To Love, among other best sellers. During the lecture a woman in the audience shared her bitter resentment toward her father who had done bad things to her many years ago. She explained she was still holding on to the pain, unable to let it go. Marianne suggested she pray for him and send him good intentions daily for 30 days straight. By doing so, she would change the energy of the entire relationship and actually free herself from victimhood.
Forgiveness is a gift we give ourselves; it’s not for the other person. If we can free ourselves from the prison of anger, bitterness and resentment, then we can move on to live a happier more fulfilled life. And anyway, its like Yoda and Oprah always say, “When you know better you do better. “ Plus, and this is the worst part about me carrying around anger and resentment: while I’m over here brooding and being angry and bitter, that miserable slime is over there at the club or taking a nap or eating something fried. So what’s the point of being angry when I’m only hurting myself and probably giving myself a wrinkle?
Do you have someone in your life that wronged you in some way? Maybe you experienced a betrayal you never saw coming? Maybe someone stole your property, never paid you back, or sabotaged you in some way. Maybe you are mad at your dad, your ex, your mom, or your friend from 11th grade? Its time to release those feelings, not for their sake, but for yours. Tonight my friend shared advice from a world-renowned relationship expert that could possibly bring me personal freedom and peace. This was no coincidence. There is no price for personal freedom or peace, therefore I am going to start today. For the next thirty days I will be saying a prayer that goes something like this:
“Dear God, Please bless _______________ today. Please keep him/her safe and may this be a great day for him/her. Please be with him/her today and also be with me so that I too have a wonderful day. I’m sending him/her love and light wherever he/she is… Amen.
Feel free to use this prayer for the dirt bag in your life. Be genuine and do it for 30 days. My friend started this 4 days ago and got a call from the two people she was praying for. These are calls she believes would not have come if she hadn’t been working on changing the energy of the relationship through prayer, mediation and good intention. I’ll be posting a blog in about 30 days or so as a follow up to this one to let you know how my prayers and good intentions changed or didn’t change anything for me… Join me will you?! What have you got to lose?
Peace, blessings and best wishes readers! Xo Dre
Oh, and P.S. That Rumi quote and this post is dedicated to my dear friend for her understanding, vision and wisdom. When I’m with her, everything really is prayer…
“Ever has it been, that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.” ~ Khalil Gibran
It’s a sad day. There’s been a terrible loss. I have that insufferable pain in my heart that is undeniably the feeling of absence. Void. Wreckage.
That pulling deep inside your heart and gut that tells you something important is missing. A light in your world has turned off and you are left to navigate your life in this darkness… You must move on seamlessly, as if you never knew the joy, the love, the sheer pleasure that once was and that is no more. I am racked with remorse, anguish, despair. You see, I have lost my favorite pair of sunglasses.
I was shopping. I was in at least 5 stores and a taco place! They could have been left among the frames at Aaron Brothers, or in the shoe racks at Nordstrom Rack, or in the personal hygiene department at Target! Maybe the counter at Poquito Mas? I was everywhere on this ill-fated day, and there was no way to retrieve them once I noticed my lovely dark gold leather case with the GUCCI name embossed in gold, was empty.
“‘Tis Better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all” ~ Alfred Lord Tennyson
I miss them so. They were casual and dressy, chic and classy, and they went with everything. These weren’t just my sunglasses. We were friends who went everywhere together. My sunglass destiny. Gucci for god’s sake! The ones with the bamboo accent hardware on the delicate tortoise leg. The ones with the very tiny Gucci signature on the lens that was barely noticeable. Only those familiar with the fabulous Gucci bamboo collection or with an eye for fine and fabulous accessories would recognize as couture eyewear… Yes, some fortunate soul found those glasses while I’m left in the grief of their absence.
In their memory, I play this…
“Scattered pictures of the smiles we left behind. Smiles we gave to one another, of the way we were…” Sing it Babs! Barbara knows what I’m talking about.
I keep having flashbacks of all the good times we had together. Sigh. So much laughter…. We went on that cruise; we shopped in Mexico, San Francisco, all over the South Bay and the Westside. We had a blast in Las Vegas together…
Below we are in one of the last photos we took together. It was a lovely seaside day in Ensenada. The photo was taken by Juanita- the tour guide/ Mexican transplant, who was deported back to Mexico from Long Beach actually! Small world, but I digress…
With those glasses I was a person of importance. Women and men moved out of the way for me. Judging by my fabulous taste in eyewear, they surely thought I must be some “it” girl from LA. I could totally see them thinking, “Who is that?” They nervously wondered, “Maybe I should get her autograph?” Of course I was too intimidating to approach, but still…
The thing is, they weren’t just sunglasses. They were more like tools. Much like Wonder Woman, who if you recall had accessories with super powers, I draw powers from my accessories as well.
Remember her cuff bracelets that deflected bullets, and her gold tiara that worked like a boomerang? She would throw it and it would dutifully help her get the bad guys so she could catch them and tie ‘em up with her golden lasso. Well, my now departed shades were similarly helpful. I mean, they never tripped the bad guys or anything, but after a long night of party rocking, they certainly served me. I loved how they would hide my bloodshot, “I didn’t get no sleep” eyes, in that Mary Kate and Ashley chic disguise that is nearly impossible to attain without the right frame, the right face or right high-end specs.
I suppose I could use my back up pair, but they leave me feeling hollow…
I have so much running thru my head now. Who could have found them? Will they have a good home? Whose face will those gorgeous tortoise frames adorn next? Will she have a strong enough nose to pull off those chic oversized lenses? Or worse! Were they found by some 17-year-old stock boy who will carelessly heap them into his pile of recyclable cardboard?! Gasp! I’m worried.
Kim Jong Ill knows what I’m talking about… Well, he would if he was alive…
How could I have been so careless? Was I in such a hurry that I did not notice my constant companion all lovely and expensive, sitting there on the goddamn shelf or rack or wherever the hell I left them?!
Where will they sleep without their luxurious case? Will their new owner just toss them in her pleather tote she bought from one of those awful kiosk vendors at the mall, thereby scratching the lovely exquisite lenses that have only been cleaned with the Gucci embossed cloth they came with??? sigh. I hate myself.
“Don’t grieve. Everything you lose comes back to you in another form…” ~ Rumi
I’ve been listening to a lot of Adele again. Morrissey, Bruno Mars. You know, the usual singers who comfort me in my hour of need, but I’m still in a funk. I’ve just added Al Green to my “I remember you Gucci” playlist. I’m hoping that the Rev. can calm my angst, affliction, heartbreak.
As you know, I never experience heartache without finding the valuable lesson that surely comes with every crushing disappointment experienced. I see this loss as a lesson in staying present. I must slow down. I have to be more conscientious in everything I do. Another hard learned lesson that hurts, but surely makes me stronger.
I will say this. I always appreciated those gorgeous glasses. Every time I wore them I loved them. I hope the next owner is grateful and takes care of them the way I didn’t. Or, if they ended up in some dumpster or landfill, I hope those guys know, they will be replaced, but never forgotten.
Nobody said it was easy
It’s such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be this hard
Oh, take me back to the start…
Be safe dear readers. xo Dre
