What a Day

Getting shot in front of his realty office was not what Derrick Dunn expected that sunny Tuesday morning. As death hovered, the part of his mind not in shock was laughing hysterically. So this is what you get for trying to turn your life around. Brilliant, he thought. You’re going to die after ending your affair with a hot twenty-something and before you’ve had a chance to drive your new $140k Tesla.

As Derrick’s cheek pressed into the damp earth, scenes from his past tripped across his mind—stepping on his first partner to secure the listing on a luxury condo. Hiring, sleeping, and firing real estate assistants in that order. Never feeling like he had enough and never appreciating what he had.

Derrick was fading when he heard the clattering of high heels on the cement walkway. The scent of Coco Chanel told him his wife, Celia, had arrived, likely needing an increase in her checking account. After not finding him inside the small but exclusive office she walked out the door again. What made her look down and to the right she’d never know, but there was her husband, on his side, blood pooling around his middle. She was so surprised to see her elegant husband lying among the hedges she gaped a full 30 seconds. The lying, cheating, son of a bitch finally got what was coming. She didn’t want to feel sorry for him but found herself yanking off her Michael Kors heels and stepping over to feel his neck. “What have you got yourself into now?” she muttered.

She quickly called 911 and wondered who pulled the trigger. That he had been cheating on her was a given. He was also into some speculative real estate and there had been strange characters calling their home late at night. Strangest of all was how he had been acting the last couple of weeks. For one thing, he was actually at home. He was also painting again rather than wheeling and dealing or taking out his annually upgraded real estate assistant. Derrick was acting more like the boy she knew when they were in high school together. The artistic kid with a gift for color and an even better knack for numbers. 

Even back then she knew he was headed for success not that she gave a damn about art. Raised in the state’s foster system, Celia Shaw kept her eyes on the prize and encouraged then shy Derrick to pursue a business degree. With her California tan and blue eyes, it was easy enough. One thing was for certain, Derrick Dunn was a cash cow and Celia wasn’t giving up her Mercedes lifestyle without a fight. 

The wailing of the ambulance made Derrick’s eyes open. Blood frothed at his lips. “It’s over, Celia. Better start looking for husband number two.”

“Enough with that, Derrick. Pull yourself together.” She looked at her shoes lying in the bushes. “And you owe me a new pair of heels.”

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What if

Big Sur Aug 2009 091

What if no one’s judging you?

What if God isn’t disappointed in you?

What if who you are in all your laziness and sloth, in your confusion and depression… what if that was OK?

For as long as it needs to be. For your entire life if necessary.

What if you are divinely loved even if you aren’t generous and kind to others?

What if you fail over and over again… what if you never seem to get it right?

What if your carefully prepared delivery falls flat and you don’t get the job?

What if Love has your back no matter what?


Word prompt: Delivery

No more waiting for me

Looking into the future

 

If I’m honest, waiting is my super power. I can sit in plastic chairs drinking stale coffee with the best of them. Because at some point, something will arrive and reward my patience. My suffering.

At least that’s how I thought it worked. Except these days I’m feeling restless. I’m dreaming of mesas and blue sky. I’m wondering if I can chose differently? Deal myself a new hand.

What if I just threw the entire deck away? What path would I walk then?

………………………

 

The Daily Post Waiting

Photo by Alice Popkorn

The Shining Blade

“There are those who have made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven.  He who is able to accept this, let him accept it.”

–Matthew 19:12

Ever since I read this yesterday I’ve been contemplating its meaning- whether in the shower or watching Galaxy Quest with my son or even staring into the fridge wondering what I’m having for lunch.

Like the metaphorical eunuch, can I cut off my false dreams, painful thoughts, and delusional fantasies? Is this cutting off even possible?  I’m intrigued.  I’m scared.  I’ve crushed some thoughts to my chest like an old rag doll – doesn’t matter if it’s coming apart at the seams.  Doesn’t matter if it offers nothing in return for my devotion… I don’t want to let go.

Looking back, I see how loss was part of the journey and even sowed the seeds for future joy. Intellectually I get that. Emotionally, letting go can feel as if I am giving up on purpose (intent, control, resolution). And yet there is something in me that dares to know the truth. Maybe the modern day eunuch questions his thinking and the thoughts release him. Maybe questioning is the fire that heats the blade. Maybe the eunuchs know.

Maybe I can know.

Photo by Xtream_i

The Daily Prompt: Purpose

(and, yes, abbreviated quote from Matthew 19:12 )

Oh Kali

Kali is destroying old boundaries

Healing comes from letting there be room for all of “this” to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy.   – Pema Chodron


I am not walking away from myself today

Instead I sit and choose to burn

Anger rains down on me, ruby red coals

My heart expands in the bittersweet embrace of Kali

Memories collide and tangle, the pain expands

But I am finding myself in these flames

I am holding my heart as it bleeds

I am finding the mother the father the community the best friend I’ve never had

Here

Photo Alice Popkorn

The Daily Prompt: Angry

Twin Flames

me and my shadow

“Why do you watch me?”

I pulled my hood lower across my forehead. “Your aura.”

Black eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe in that stuff.”

“Which is why I’ve kept my distance.”

“And yet I know you’re there all the same. When will you lose interest?”

The fog drifted as I pondered this haunting question yet again. “When I must. When I go to you and instead find my feet walking in another direction.”

He grabbed my shoulders. “I’ve never lead you to believe…”

Now my eyes narrowed. “This isn’t about that. We’re bound. Twin Flames… We work better together than apart.” I pushed his hands off me. “Romantic love doesn’t have to be part of it.”

He laughed. “Do you know what my heart feels when I see you?”

Surprise flashed like lightning. “I didn’t think you felt anything. Or perhaps, pity.”

He walked to a tree, stunted and bent. I could see his form soften in the mist as long steps carried him to the shadows. Devil’s eyes found mine and pinned me. “The need to possess.”

It was a challenge, a fork flung into the middle of a road. And I, sure of his refusal, was completely unprepared.

Photo by Alice Popkorn

The Daily Post: Fork