Tag Archives: thoughts

Extend your love bubble

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The blessing/curse of the empathic poet is that you are constantly searching for meaning in the pain of life. It’s not comfortable. Sometimes you have to ponder for a loooooooooong time before you come to any conclusion and sometimes it happens like a lightning strike.

That happened to me today. I almost literally stumbled across a truth about life. And I think it revealed to me the purpose behind the thing we all want in spite of how vulnerable it makes us.

Love.

How did it happen?

I was on my way to work. About a block away a young man carrying a rake who was obviously getting ready to work in one of my neighbors’ yards (in the 95-feels-like-150-degree heat) stumbled. He recovered quickly and looked around to see if anyone had seen. I immediately pretended to be looking straight ahead, not at him at all, and sent him a reassuring thought. Didn’t see anything. You’re safe.

I immediately wondered. Why did I think “You’re safe”? And I realized that’s what we all want. As we stumble through this world full of sharp spikes and tripwires, all we really want is to feel safe. And that’s nearly impossible to achieve, especially in this day and age when you just might be caught on camera and if you are, your stumble might go viral.

I recently made a playlist of songs that make me feel like everything is going to be okay. My life sometimes feels completely messed up. I have even been glad I only have another 30-40 years of it (if I’m lucky). And my life is a good one. I have people to love and who love me. They cushion some of the blows, guard me against some of the spikes, and pick me up when I trip.

And that’s why I think I’ve figured out what the purpose of love is. Love is like a bubble around us, one that gives us a sense of security. Safety. The thing is, if we do love right, it can give others that same sense. Even those we don’t know. Imagine extending your bubble of love to people around you. There are people in need all around us, whether they’re tripping over a rake or hurting for some deeper reason. Maybe you can’t actually help them. Maybe you don’t have resources beyond what you need yourself.

But instead of laughing when someone stumbles or posting someone’s misfortune on the internet for “hits” or “likes”, you can send them a reassuring thought. “It’s okay. I got you. You’re safe.”

Imagine if we could all feel safe?

Photo by Michelle Garren-Flye

Pink Hair vs. the Universe

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Yesterday I found a pink hair in my sink. No, I don’t play with Strawberry Shortcake dolls. I do dye my hair pink, though.

So what’s the big deal about finding a pink hair in my sink?

I couldn’t figure that out, either, at first. But for some reason, it thrilled me. It slowly dawned on me. It’s not a white hair because I dyed it pink. I did that. I caused a change in my life.

Over the course of the past year, I’ve come to the very difficult conclusion that I do not control the universe. Stuff I am not okay with will happen and I will most likely have to deal with it and I won’t be able to make a significant change in it. But then there’s other stuff that happens and if I don’t like it, I can change it.

Like white/silver/grey hair. No matter what you call it, if you don’t like it, you can change it. I looked at that pink hair and it thrilled me because I can’t change what the universe and other people will do to me, but I can change what I do to myself. I can curl up in a corner and cry because the universe SUCKS and is beating the crap out of me (sometimes), or I can come out swinging. And that’s what that pink hair represents.

I can’t change the universe, but I can change the color of my hair. Look out, universe.

woman with pink hair
New author picture? lol

Poem: Motherhood

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This isn’t exactly a new poem. It was inspired by my oldest son but over the course of the past year I’ve seen more and more instances of strength in all three of my kids. They’ve been generous with that strength, too, loaning it to me when I needed it. Like a warm coat they take off their own shoulders to place over mine.

So thank you, kiddoes. Without you I wouldn’t be me.

Poem and illustration copyright 2022 Michelle Garren-Flye

Grateful

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Last night I saw this rose blooming by my doorstep.

Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

I had been feeling pretty bleak about the holiday. My life is not what it was a year ago. But when I saw that rose, I paused for a second. That rose must be pretty damn determined to bloom because it’s been downright cold the past couple of nights. It made me think about my attitude.

Yes, one part of my life sucks. But there are so many other aspects that really don’t. I have my kids and my store, my new home and my pets (especially Derby of the magical purr). I have my family and more friends than I really deserve. And I am grateful. For each and every one of these things, I am heartfelt, on my knees grateful.

Sometimes, when things are tough, we forget there are always things to be grateful for. And sometimes if you start counting the small things you have, you realize there are some pretty big things to be grateful for also. And if there aren’t at the moment, then concentrate on the beauty of those small things. Remember, rose bushes start out as tiny seeds.

Happy thanksgiving.

Graphic Novel Update: With Pictures!

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I am about a third of the way through the pictures I will need for my graphic novel. I haven’t even started the formatting process, which I imagine will take a HUGE amount of time. While drawing, I’ve found myself rewriting, too, which is probably a good thing? Time will tell, I suppose. Anyway, I told myself when I got to this point, I’d share a little more with you. So here goes. Here’s a picture I drew with a tiny excerpt:

Sometimes her dreams are worth watching. Art by Michelle Garren Flye

I know my art is very basic. 🙂 I have never claimed to be a real artist. I’m using photographs I’ve taken mostly, the little artist models of people in different poses for others. My imagination is supplying some of it, but a lot is simple photo manipulation. Although I am rather proud of this one:

Art by Michelle Garren Flye

That one started off as a photo but quickly became something different. I’m not even certain where it will fit into the scheme of the graphic novel, but you can be sure it will be there.

And finally, the slightly updated cover by Farah Evers Designs (cover illustration by Barb Williams) along with the actual blurb for the book. Remember, this is still months away, but I have made it this far…

In a world in which sickness, storms and earthquakes fill the news with a darkness so black the television screen doesn’t even light up the room anymore, hope seems like a long way off. But for Kat Archer, this year is a year of great gifts. Like shining points of light, she finds them all along her path, and they lead her to look for more…and a greater desire to share the gifts of hope with others. Rekka, a mysterious being whose job it is to guard his “Listener” Kat, is caught off guard when her talent suddenly blossoms. He fears she will be caught by “the machine”, an evil entity that seeks to shut down free thought and unique expression. Can he keep her safe in a world where she may be the greatest hope humanity has left?

Poem: The End of the Dream, or Burning Hell

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If you’re one of those who thinks God will save us from any mess we get ourselves into, so we can do whatever the hell we want to do, I hope you’re right. Maybe that’s not enough, but I do hope you’re right. On the other hand, I can’t help but think, well, if I was God, I would’ve thrown up my hands and walked away from us idiots a long time ago. And where does that leave us now with our planet on fire, inadequate leadership, a virus killing thousands per day and no way out? I know where it leaves us. It leaves us at the end of all that has nurtured us for so long.

The End of the Dream, or Burning Hell

By Michelle Garren Flye

Here we stand at the end of the dream.

Where do we go now?

I see no shining trails leading us away

From the end of all we know.

From bloody skies and boiling streets,

There is no rescue to come.

This horror we’ve concocted here

Is what’s left of our home.

Yes, the dream is gone, and rage takes over;

I feel it under my skin.

It crawls in through my open mouth

And makes its home within.

Fire and famine, fear and sorrow,

Burning hell takes over.

The nightmare has only just begun—

No one’s coming to wake you.

Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

Poem: Hellsong

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Hellsong

By Michelle Garren Flye

Betrayal burns, feverish holes

Sprout and fill with flame,

Spilling ash out onto coals;

Leaping up, you’re unable to tame.

Will you watch it all burn?

Where will you go to escape?

No matter which way you turn

The consummation takes shape.

Don’t look for a way out—

Just give yourself to the fire.

The freedom you used to flout

Just a subject for the choir.

Your sins catch up to you here.

Your lies will haunt you again.

Remember them all, embrace fear—

Hell sings out in this last quatrain.

Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

Poem: Fire (Because the world is burning and nobody seems to care)

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Fire

By Michelle Garren Flye

Burning from the inside out

Is better than exploding in public

Keep it inside, don’t be loud

No one cares what’s in your heart

So you can get away with that

Live a subtle life

Don’t speak what’s not asked.

Or…

Spit out the ash and fire and lava

That’s built up all your life

Because who cares?

Once it’s out it won’t matter

Anyway.

Lava leaves only ash in its wake

Ash chokes those who dare breathe it

And Fire destroys all in its path.

So burn anyway you want—

Kick it out to your neighbors (aha!)

With their green lawns peppered by red signs

Smash it into the bumpers branded enemy…

Or breathe it deliciously

Over those too slow to resist

Caress it onto those who forget to run

From Fire.

Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

Haiku quest continues…

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A few more of my better ones.

#14

Wind and rain lover’s

Knuckles brushing over cheek

Gentle but solid

#15

Rain beats the leaves down

Rushes on the ground to pool

Over the tree’s roots

#16

Inspiration comes

After storm falls on our heads

Umbrella is nice

#17

Irrational want

Desire what can never be

Love has no place here

#20

This excellent trip

Will end eventually

What happens then, love?

#21

Restless sleep tonight

The moon flows full over trees

Inviting rambles

#23

Why sleep in the night?

Fight circadian rhythms—

Living time is dear.

#24

Read haiku poem

Prepare for inspiration

Bursting with longing

#27

I love the rain sounds

On the glass paneled windows

Safe in my bookstore

#29

Summer evening

Alien ratchets and song

Wish I weren’t alone

#31

Scarlet cardinal

Takes flight, leaves the rest of us

Behind, bound to earth

#32

Late blooming flower

Pure and alone on the bush

I guess you forgot

#33

Bizarre masked people

Eating at sidewalk cafes

Through open zippers

#34

Can’t really decide

If surroundings are muted

Or are you just bright

#35

Reality runs

After me, chases, leaps and

Follows my retreat

Late blooming gardenia. Photo by Michelle Garren Flye