Love.
C.A. MacConnell
1/28/2018
1/27/2018
Photo: Rooster
Rooster
This guy has taken a liking to me...I see him on the walk to work. :) Cool shot, eh? Hope your day is lovely. Peace to you,
C.A. MacConnell
1/25/2018
1/22/2018
Spanish Moss
Flash poem for you this morning. Getting my brain in gear. I hope you like it. I do. <3 C.A.
Spanish Moss
No gutter man.
The day we met,
swimming straight out of the bayou,
you shone.
Back then,
wearing a hand-me-down sweater
with thread
made from Spanish moss,
your lights came
straight from sun and iris.
And now,
inside the wait,
I am the perfect
shade of you.
C.A. MacConnell
Spanish Moss
No gutter man.
The day we met,
swimming straight out of the bayou,
you shone.
Back then,
wearing a hand-me-down sweater
with thread
made from Spanish moss,
your lights came
straight from sun and iris.
And now,
inside the wait,
I am the perfect
shade of you.
C.A. MacConnell
1/18/2018
1/16/2018
1/15/2018
Feeling at Home
I suppose that I've always wanted to do big things.
Deep down, in my heart, some great plan has always called out to me. Call it desire, passion, dreaming. Call it what you will. When I was little, I wanted to be a horse trainer, to teach and ride, to help those coming up. To me, that was big then. I did that for years, and some days, it was everything that I had imagined it would be. Other days, maybe it was ten degrees out, and I had to chip the ice out of water buckets or shovel shit because the barn crew didn't show up after payday. But there was normally peace in my heart; I knew that I was where I'd always wanted to be. And with the animals, turning them out in the fields at night, I felt at home.
Home.
And then I felt restless, like we, as humans, do. It wasn't the animals that made me leave that life. It was events, happenings, life, human interactions, and the need for change, I suppose. Looking back, I see it as the universe giving me an old kick in the ass -- I'd taken that life as far as I needed to take it, and my journey needed to change.
Then there was yoga teaching, and a bunch of odd jobs. There was the writing. Always, the writing. There were two books that came out of little ol' me. There was advocacy work, travel, and speaking. Life eventually drifted completely away from that of the horses, and my path became more focused on written word, spoken word, movement, and people. A lot of talks to strangers. It was invigorating, speaking to crowds, giving a voice to many that didn't have one. I missed riding, yes. I still do from time to time, but I found a home in sharing my story.
Now I have an odd job, the writing, and the fierce desire to do more. I feel like I haven't even brushed the surface of that thing we call life. But I admit that I'm tired earlier, and my life is full in other ways; that is, I love this particular odd job, I love my family, and I'm relatively peaceful with just being me, doing the day to day deal. Sure, I've tried and tried to get with a major publisher, and I'm still trying with my third book. Honestly, I don't know if it'll ever happen. It's like a "needle in a haystack" kind of thing. But I keep trying anyhow. Man, I wish to travel and do signings, to meet people all over, to give talks, to share some of my story. I don't know how I'm going to get there, but it feels like that's what my heart wants. And so, these days, I have a home that rests somewhere within that word called "desire."
So I'm sitting here drinking some Brazilian coffee, writing to you. I'm thinking about my flaws -- the smoking, the obsession with frozen foods, the way I get close with someone and then naturally retreat back into my solo world. And I'm wondering if I'll always do that; I'm not sure. Are some folks meant to be alone? Perhaps. And then I think this...maybe I just have to find someone else who is OK with being alone, someone who gets energy from the solo life as well. That could be the key.
Maybe I've already found that person.
And I think about how far I've come -- the fight through illness, the fight to get published, self-publishing two books, and my 20 years of continuous sobriety. That's something. That's everything, at this moment, now that I think about it. So I guess now, I feel at home wherever there is love -- with my family, at my job every day, with animals, when I talk with someone who's read my work, and in the peace and quiet of the sunrise, when a large hawk swoops in.
And as far as doing big things, I've done many...some of which no one can see, but they're there, keeping me warm on the inside. As for the outside big things, I suppose that more will be revealed.
So if I had a New Years resolution, I suppose it should be the smoking, or to drink water, or to cut out caffeine, or to eat more veggies. Sure, I have many defects. But what if my resolution were to celebrate the joys instead. Some days I want to scream at the world that I am here, still fighting for big things. Other days, I recognize that for a 5'2" woman with a lot of muscle, throughout the course of life, I just might have done some good.
Celebrate the joys today, the triumphs and progress. Let me find a home in this. "That life for me is lived one day at a time, letting the problems of the future rest with the future. When the time comes to solve them, God will give me the strength for that day." -- Anonymous
Have a beautiful day. I'm cheering for you,
C.A. MacConnell
Deep down, in my heart, some great plan has always called out to me. Call it desire, passion, dreaming. Call it what you will. When I was little, I wanted to be a horse trainer, to teach and ride, to help those coming up. To me, that was big then. I did that for years, and some days, it was everything that I had imagined it would be. Other days, maybe it was ten degrees out, and I had to chip the ice out of water buckets or shovel shit because the barn crew didn't show up after payday. But there was normally peace in my heart; I knew that I was where I'd always wanted to be. And with the animals, turning them out in the fields at night, I felt at home.
Home.
And then I felt restless, like we, as humans, do. It wasn't the animals that made me leave that life. It was events, happenings, life, human interactions, and the need for change, I suppose. Looking back, I see it as the universe giving me an old kick in the ass -- I'd taken that life as far as I needed to take it, and my journey needed to change.
Then there was yoga teaching, and a bunch of odd jobs. There was the writing. Always, the writing. There were two books that came out of little ol' me. There was advocacy work, travel, and speaking. Life eventually drifted completely away from that of the horses, and my path became more focused on written word, spoken word, movement, and people. A lot of talks to strangers. It was invigorating, speaking to crowds, giving a voice to many that didn't have one. I missed riding, yes. I still do from time to time, but I found a home in sharing my story.
Now I have an odd job, the writing, and the fierce desire to do more. I feel like I haven't even brushed the surface of that thing we call life. But I admit that I'm tired earlier, and my life is full in other ways; that is, I love this particular odd job, I love my family, and I'm relatively peaceful with just being me, doing the day to day deal. Sure, I've tried and tried to get with a major publisher, and I'm still trying with my third book. Honestly, I don't know if it'll ever happen. It's like a "needle in a haystack" kind of thing. But I keep trying anyhow. Man, I wish to travel and do signings, to meet people all over, to give talks, to share some of my story. I don't know how I'm going to get there, but it feels like that's what my heart wants. And so, these days, I have a home that rests somewhere within that word called "desire."
So I'm sitting here drinking some Brazilian coffee, writing to you. I'm thinking about my flaws -- the smoking, the obsession with frozen foods, the way I get close with someone and then naturally retreat back into my solo world. And I'm wondering if I'll always do that; I'm not sure. Are some folks meant to be alone? Perhaps. And then I think this...maybe I just have to find someone else who is OK with being alone, someone who gets energy from the solo life as well. That could be the key.
Maybe I've already found that person.
And I think about how far I've come -- the fight through illness, the fight to get published, self-publishing two books, and my 20 years of continuous sobriety. That's something. That's everything, at this moment, now that I think about it. So I guess now, I feel at home wherever there is love -- with my family, at my job every day, with animals, when I talk with someone who's read my work, and in the peace and quiet of the sunrise, when a large hawk swoops in.
And as far as doing big things, I've done many...some of which no one can see, but they're there, keeping me warm on the inside. As for the outside big things, I suppose that more will be revealed.
So if I had a New Years resolution, I suppose it should be the smoking, or to drink water, or to cut out caffeine, or to eat more veggies. Sure, I have many defects. But what if my resolution were to celebrate the joys instead. Some days I want to scream at the world that I am here, still fighting for big things. Other days, I recognize that for a 5'2" woman with a lot of muscle, throughout the course of life, I just might have done some good.
Celebrate the joys today, the triumphs and progress. Let me find a home in this. "That life for me is lived one day at a time, letting the problems of the future rest with the future. When the time comes to solve them, God will give me the strength for that day." -- Anonymous
Have a beautiful day. I'm cheering for you,
C.A. MacConnell
