A Different Me

Culture, a way of being. It seems so settled, till we meet another living differently! My way seems so secure. “Of course, it all makes sense!” Until another – sees another me. How can that be! Who am I?  The one I knew or the one they see? It’s not a fight, it’s  just a change -both/and not either/or. So I live, alive and well, still learning more of what I will. I grow in light and see you there – a different me!

Culture, a way to see, a way to speak. It frames my thoughts and tunes my ties. It is and so am I! I live with you and we agree, to walk beside and dance with tunes. My feet are free- never stepping on your toes! Then somehow you appear beside, wildly suggesting a new dance tune. The dance is strange – so I must change! My habits deep, now disagree, this cannot be the way to dance with me! And yet I sense the joy!

Dancing with you, changes me! I’m alive to see my feet once more. They awkward feel and yet they seem – alive again! Soon, I am learning to be me, alive with you – and different within me! I now am learning, more of me. I see the world through different eyes. My world has changed! It’s grander still. Life is to be lived – not boxed! So now I bless this day, that opened eyes, and gave me more. I rest with arms spread wide!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

What’s possible

Seeking to change but bound by pain, a thief’s eyes weep in despair. He plainly can see , the course of the years, the choices that wounded those dear. The vileness breathes, a noxious perfume, of guilt, raw blight and his shame. He weeps as he runs back to his deep gloom and hides with the fumes in his brain.

Yet something keeps rising, if ever so faintly, of possible change in his path. He longs for a friend who believes in him still and will release him from chains and despair. He knows it’s impossible, he knows he’s foredoomed, to wander alone and afraid. And still he cries out for a break in this bond, that always strangles and shames.

Through all the layers of fear and deceit, that flow like instinct to fleece, one more chance to find a nickel or dime, to lend seduction’s embrace. But one still does stand, who sees deeper than most, and calls to the promise in life. He beckons and breathes, new possibilities grow, where only boils shame and this plight.

A moment in time, an instant most sure, when choice reaches out to explore. A shift brings a crack, in the darkness of loss, and grace kisses dreams once again. The despair is so strong, the grip is so fierce as this chance looms bright ahead. A shift to believe, redemption enfolds, and peace paints a face once dead.

Triumph is hard when the pain is most fierce and chains bite hard into flesh. Victory is sweet, when death is revealed as feeble when facing new life. A heart learns to love, first himself, then his wife, as this soul senses joy that’s surreal. His journey begun, resurrection is true, and destiny greets promise for life.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Journeying

 

I am, you are.

Together is still your favourite word.

He is, will be.

Prophetic songs are sung.

 

Trust comes with feeling.

Steps come with hearing.

Change is as certain as dawn.

Now is a moment, time’s in eternity,

You’ve named me yet here I sit still.

Mystery is hidden, Vision is blinding.

Never is not what exists now.

 

What do I say? How can I hear?

Voice has no contact with sight!

Stillness is never so easy to see,

And boldness is always delight.

 

 

Living fluidly.

How we picture or frame things affects how we relate to it.

What if truth were best seen as water?

Truth is like water in that it is pervasive and required in all aspects of life. Without water, life as we know it can’t exist.It expresses itself as comfortably in trees as in humans. So diversity is at core, part of its expression – so truth rightly understood demonstrates amazing capacity to be consistent within itself yet be present in many configurations. Water is not usually a weapon of choice! It is not hard – except when frozen. Frozen truth can be used as a weapon, yet in its very frozenness we quickly render it obsolete! Water fills the air as humidity and yet fills the oceans to great depths. It percolates through rock and soil – it is amazing how it forms the fabric of our world. So truth, as life giving substance is entwined with all reality.

Continuing on with the metaphor then, to see someone vibrantly expressing truth, is not to see them armed with many swords, or tools nor books, but rather to envision someone who is healthy, well hydrated – not parched! It is someone who is not sickly but full of vitality and joy. Truth isn’t so much found by grasping at it as if it were a sword ( who can grasp the ocean!) Truth is found by dwelling in awareness, in harmony. That is, someone well adjusted to their environment. A picture of this is the freedom that would come from swimming in the ocean with gills and fins! To breathe water and not die.

So it seems that often to know truth I am called to be transformed. This challenges my rigid certainty that protects me from change. Yet to live, is to change, to grow and to expand. Often when I am most uncomfortable with the circumstances of my life, unjust as they can be , there are still hints that prod me to recognize that it is time for change so that I can live in truth – in life.  If I look to see with clarity, my challenges speak out that I need transformation! Truth always invites us into curiosity. To learn, to grow, to know. Welcome to living fluidly!!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

On Fortresses

I built a castle on a hill and made it tall and strong. I built a wall and with great care, made my defences, firm! I’ve built it greater and secured, each time I’ve sensed a war. It feels so great, unshakeable. It’s mighty and declares – I’m safe, I am sure, I’m hidden well no soul may pierce my veil. I will not hurt, I will not feel; shame lies trapped safe below.

And so I built a keep most rare, and formed my plan with care. I framed great conference rooms and chains to store that shame and pain. I anchored chains and fixtures strong to keep the prison dank. It’s crafted depths with care designed, to keep out all the light. And soon these depths became so dark, and bound my silenced soul. They gnawed the bedrock thunderously, dark power in control.

One day I came to know and see,this after thought now real. Fantasy now became  the keep, my home was not in light. The battlements shone so splendid white, banners streaming gaily. Yet deep within the fortress sure, there was so much wailing! I do not know or understand, when my heart found these chains. But this I knew that now I lived, in dankest depths most sure. Sad, looking back I realize now,the chains got short each day. They drew me to a destiny alone within these depths.

I stepped out into light again. You opened up my life. You broke off chains and made me see that I could walk away. I lifted up my eyes with joy I welcomed freedom’s kiss. The invitation came to fly, to leave the ramparts sure. I chose to soar and only rest when life’s delight found sleep. I soon forgot the dungeon depths, I left them far away. Till one day some dark spectre roared and shocked my flight to ground. Immediately, I soon recalled the safety of “that” place. Below I raced with hurried stride back safe within my keep.

This pattern now became the norm, when ere I couldn’t fly. Until one day I came to see, my castle had been changed. No longer anchored in the earth, in the sky it floated!  No longer bound by gravity, it’s freedom was unique. I quickly opened up the walls, the dungeon now was light.  I opened up its darkened state to  rainbows in the sky. Now, deep within, I’m shifting still, releasing all these chains. Light’s pouring in, I’m not defined by all that’s gone before. I’m looking forward to the day, I find no shame, no hurt.  The freedom of life’s harmony instead my symphony!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

When freedom comes

Eyes seen full of life,

A woman still scarred

History unchanged

Yet glowing inside.

 

Wonder spoken

Of drugs left behind.

Hope flowing outward

And her countenance shines!

 

Laughter, replaces

what once held great pain,

shadows encircled

and so filled with shame.

 

Now smiles speak volumes

delight lifts her head

Embracing a future

Most thought was dead.

 

So good to sit with,

So grand to see,

Dreams are still possible

if only we’re freed!

Author – Bill Tidsbury