Parallels of Peril~

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I’d sugar coat a cobra. It’s my fang.

As I take out the trash, lifting it up I noticed something on my arm, I am forming a bicep. So on the side of the hacienda I did a pose down. A shadow dance with the sun and my new form. I’m clear, I’m getting stronger.

I have been given many gifts over the years. In this moment I am blessed to remember, “Everything is none of my business.” and gossip is truly a spiritual defect to my soul. When I judge you, I have put myself in the position of perfection however, what I know is I have become skilled in progress. I know that.

Many days I fall short of the leaps I take toward balance. Today I missed puddles of skimmed surface chatter and was mindful of my thoughts, ever mindful that it was tête-à-tête between my own Sylvester Sneekly and Fair Maiden, Kiki.

The only risk I take is allowing others to see me as human as possible. Prior to finding my truth I would have considered my exposure of self a grave consequence. Feelings are often met with fear with most people I encounter. My desire is that with the veil lifted, our tête-à-tête will be no longer the masking tape of secrets, instead the unmasking of hope.

A design of mind, not a chorus of ominous music played out as I’m tied to the railroad tracks of life. The only one galloping in to save me is the balance of truth.



Often I am off the beam when it comes to “no” and “knowing”.

I can see when a power greater than I must grab a box of popcorn and watch the know show.

It’s clear I’m being routed the opposite direction and here I am trying to re-arrange the strange. I love the odd.

Let’s just give it another go. It’s clear to me in writing that I create all forms of letting go. It’s that whole “Are you a quitter, Kelly? Come on get back here and take it like a champ! My Rocky mentality continues to climb back in the ring and prance around, shuffling my feet. It actually is it’s own remake.

I look forward to the day when I am presented with the belt and I quietly say, “I’m sorry, the belt just doesn’t fit me anymore.”

It’s simply this: I often think because I don’t physically get beat and outwardly I don’t look worse for wear I’m not actually fighting. Resistance is actually manifesting discomfort and that is it’s own glorious invitation to another level of understanding myself.

The gifts of grace… an honor has been bestowed on me to look within, to see myself in others and really, that is my inner struggle. When I give up on you, I believe I’m giving up on me. Knowing the difference is always a balancing act for me… until I can dismount the know from the no, I will continue to carry it.

As I referee this match within myself, I continue to become aware. The question I must ask of myself is, “What are you getting out of this?” The answer is only I don’t know when I don’t want to be told no.


Bomb Dignity~


Inherent Nobility, let’s explore. I find myself searching and digging- okay, clawing my way to a place of grace. A place of goodness and honor. The “Vulturous Virtue” Award goes to… _____. Seriously I can picture it in my mind. I’m weather-beaten and torn. A rapacious predator seeking the qualities I endear and hold close to my heart.

Then the flip-side. There is always two sides of the coin. The “I just want to spill it out”- a wordy projectile-vomit of words, blame, anger and defeat.

In reality there are no winners here. No losers either if I am honest. The love remains, it most certainly does. I’m still lovable and the key to this locked thought is allowing the feelings to surface and flow.

I’m really not at a place to figure out the lesson, because I’m in the midst of mastering it. In the past I have at times been a slave to my emotions and that will not be the case. No more. I’ve stated my intent and let that be spiraled up to consciousness.

The veil has not yet lifted and the heart is beating at optimum strength. I am strong. It comes with the blood. The rebound maybe a bit slow. Clearly though I bounce back.

The need for an explosive reaction remains. Of course it does, it’s an old reliable tool. In the text of, “and there you are, I was wondering what took you so long” In this age of new awareness it’s reliable yes, but not necessary. The familiar will combust and I can walk away undetonated.

Bomb Squad unnecessary.