Recently I had an injury at the workplace, a simple step or turn in the wrong direction and then I was in a place of discontent… It made me think how much I seemingly take for granted those movements that I use so freely.  Walking to be precise. 

So I limp a long aware of the Jury within my mind. Taking judgement of the facts of my predicament. Looking at my swollen leg and ego, making the decision to convict myself to confinement.  Hearing the things we or more categorically I say as I age.  Ice pack on, Ice pack off.  My own Kiki-rat’e kid manifesting.  Nothing to do but wait and rest. I consider myself a patience person, just not with myself. The realization of my sequestered being. The playlist of my mind as I imagine myself doing actions that in this occasion seem massive. I’m not even at that place of acceptance that I chime to others – Everything happens for a reason. The rationale of all that exists.

As the defense and prosecution debate the decision of the liabilities within my mind. The closing arguments seem more like an opening statement of charges of Karmic actions. As long as I believe I cause injury to myself  or others I can only surmise. The truth is this. I was just injured, no wrongdoing, no injustice and the only opposition is me. 

I’m throwing out the charges. Case closed.



Gratitude-tional Pull~

As the push and pull of life evolves within the atmosphere I feel my own pull towards others rotating around me. My earth-bound clan of charismatic travelers.

As of late I’m in this gyration of genes orbiting in and out of my soul-er system. These fellow clan members have not only influenced they also have infiltrated my space.

The expanse which exists within my vessel, a planetary inclusion. A meet-your meteor. The cool-oquially shooting stars of my life. The visual passage of experiences has illuminated all that I see and literally what I chose not to look at.

Our revelation we hide nothing. We bare everything. We tumble and glide through each other’s space. Formidable legal Aliens and allies. We are… we share… we love.

Sometimes we disagree. We challenge our community of connection and our hearts realign and we pull together.

Upon leaving my space station and heading into orbit an old familiar galaxy- one of bloodlines and bold love as moments passed by. I float and find what once I connected to as home- isn’t.

While I was circling and catapulting that fourth dimension of existence I was putting down roots and surrounded by stars of soul and soil.

The planets align and the gravitational force of freedom beckons me back to the Northern sky. So it’s true… home is… where the heart is.







Un-harden my heart~

All of a sudden it’s taken on a whole different slant…

Some say I lead a bit to the left unless I’m right.

I believe I’m closer to the middle amongst the herd and then I ponder as I ease back into the protection of my core beliefs.

Through the mist…comes a clearing and as I look ahead I see a familiar face calling to me and motioning me forward.

I only can see the eyes and in my culture the eyes say everything, all emotions, all truth.

The closer I get I call out.. Dad what shall I do? Just hug me and tell me. He acknowledges me with a head shake, a smile and struts off into the realm of love that he has always resided in.

So you’re not going to give me the answer, I shout. I stand still. Deciding not to chase after him. The giant soul with a similar heart. He is a boy again and I rejoice in his pain free existence and knowing.
His secret, my discovery.

I look further and there she is- Mother. I feel her as if she never left and she explains she never did. We laugh and I want to stay with her forever. She propels me to go further, I want to resist. Her small frame fills the space and I have no choice but to go forward. She always nudged me, the wisdom of an eternal sage.

It’s not what they didn’t say. It’s the heart that holds onto their love and beats a rhythm of the realm of which I extend my arms to.

To deny the love I have for where I stand and stay would inhibit the trail I’m led to..winding down and over into, across and immersed with. I rise. Knowing it’s going to be hard and it usually is with me.
I get that it is why I am so determined to be at ease with it.

The body has a different rhythm. It’s requesting firmly like my mother’s nudge. Stop the struggle, yet take up the action. You have much to do.

The heart wants what the heart wants…To beat with a love that see’s beyond the realms and peacefully exists here, soft to exposure.

I’m letting go of the hard line and residing in the heart line.. One beat at a time…


In the outbox~

I often wonder can I get out of the deception receptacle? As I was clearing my e-mail I glanced at the categories of storage. Junk, trash, sent, inbox… It all ends up in the trash, well unless I save them to my hard drive.

Can I use my mind to do the same? Or is it true? Do I hold on because I’m getting something out of it? Why is it that I never completely have the answer to why it doesn’t go into the trash.

Living in the moment or living in the memory~ I can tell you this about me, or based on my writings you may be aware of it. I continue to cling to the notion of making moments monuments, It’s suffocating, yet safe.

Well- there it is! Why I glorify the gore. Gore-fy… I’m my own Trekkie. I am a Sigh-phi mind. I angle it and then I sigh… Why?

I want to tell you I’m done with the angst, parts of me are. I just need to run it through one more time, then there will be freedom. I have to remember I create the conflict. It’s not about re-solving it- It’s about having the courage to let go. Because it doesn’t define me anymore.

With that I just need to take out the trash and remember not to dumpster drive.



In the depths of meditation this morning, I focus on hidden beliefs. Wha… Because there wasn’t even a “whoa”.
You know that hidden brelief button? Yeah it’s spelled right. The believe-relief.
Suddenly I’m all wrapped up in feelings or more accurately, unraveled. Here lies (and it’s a huge liar), that the belief of being in the trenches of awareness of self is a trap of crushing proportion. It can truly feel that way when you believe you’ve been abandoned. There it is. Now let’s just expose it for what it is; neglected, deserted, empty. The crux of my heart. It’s an old reality that resurfaces when I feel all of the above. Whenever I rely on anyone to fill me up or not. It’s that whole “I exist because you’ve created me.” I see people immediately as omnipotent and having the power to wield love or rejection. Naturally there is gray in there. I clearly see where I place myself in the position to be hurt. Now have I skimmed the surface on this before? Yep. I do put myself out there. For me well, it’s me. Now that’s the idea. That belief is my reality and while at times painful it is my true essence. I thought recently, “be on guard. Defend your heart. It’s getting ripped to shreds.” Yes. It was only the ego. Just torn to bits. I keep kicking at it like a corpse. Hey, wake up. We’ve got to protect our “writes.”
And suddenly in time. In His time. Not mine. I just had to see it. I’m a writer who just happens to cook. It’s Awe and then some.




I remember being told, “to attain self esteem, we must do estimable acts” Lately I can see that self worth can dwindle when you allow anyone else determine your value. Even more enlightening is how I volunteer for that withdrawal. Oh Ego… you’re such a player and I am such a pawn when I want you fed. Now that I’m in this awareness I either listen or I act.

In my unconscious state of mind this sensation appears real when actually I have created something that doesn’t exist. A mirage of the mind. The illusion of hope. Similar to when I’m running through the sand dunes in my desert oasis and having moments of wanting to give up- believing water exists all around me, when actually it’s a bottle of water in my pocket.

Regardless it’s a literary phantasm. The appearance of wanting something to be real when it’s really not. That could describe my looking too deeply or even disregarding the lack of depth. Simply because I want to see what I see. I want it to connect with what I feel. When the feeling is love doesn’t that become all that we’ve been taught to believe? The truth in that fantasy is love isn’t really black and white, nor are the people in it.

This is where the rejoicing comes in if we’re truly at that place of love without reason, love without rhyme. Love without judgement. I believe I’m evolving into that place and developing my own meaning and expression. To love without thought and bestow that on others even when it’s not reciprocated.

I was told, then taught, then I understood, the greatest love you can bestow is, I will die for you. Beyond that truth one step further: the greatest love I can bestow within me is: I will Live.

I simply say to that: Hallelujah!




Moments of resolve swim through my head much like a hamster on a wheel, except I often wonder am I going anywhere or am I attempting to spin out of control? That would be so alarming to some… yet, I believe it may be a soul-ution to my evolution.

Thoughts of the revolution of Kiki… A mini uprising clearing a pollution of fear-based beliefs.

Everything I have lived these past few years has given way to an emancipation of spirit, much like the bud in bloom. These past few days I have been watching this unfoldment, beginning with the bloom’s perfectly wrapped state and it’s transformation into the flower that she has become. I am aware it was stunning in each state of participation.

I see now how this pink beauty has shown me of my own reparation of wrongs I’ve committed upon myself.

I was watching The Judge as I was getting ready to come home. In the midst of experiencing judgement as well. It to me, focused on the relationship of a father and son. It gave me the opportunity to reflect for a moment on the relationship of my Dad and I. For years it was tenuous. We are very similar in nature. He gave me the ism and also the cure. He wasn’t always the greatest dad. He was very hard on me and very abusive. Both physically and emotionally. He also loved me very much. There are no victims here. Being a parent myself I’m aware of my own shortcomings. I believe when I was picking my parents (yes…I believe this) I chose my own. I knew they would teach me what I needed. They did. I also see today just how much I’m like my mother. I get that hurt people hurt people and the ultimate grace is remembering love reflects often in silence as you hear the echos of pain. Being responsible for my part in the hurt of a loved one is humbling and illuminating. It shines the light on that dark part of the soul. I prefer to be the blessing and not the lesson. I can’t regret I’ve been the lesson.

The truth of that is I will forever be the student and teacher in life and isn’t that what we all hope to be? Open to learning and open to receiving the knowledge through experience, through love, through the reality of pain and then suddenly without reason you’ve evolved into the blessing.

A soul-ution.


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.