– Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
Hey there,
It’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted and I thought a nice grounding meditation to start the month off right was the perfect way to start.
FYI – This is a video, click to watch.
Hope this brings a little calm to your day.
Namastè & Pura Vida my friends!
Hey everyone,
Check out my post The Founder’s Gift on The Brief Chronicles, The Players blog.
I wrote this speech 5 years ago while I was serving as Vice President. Today 5 years later and after 10 years of membership, my heart still warmly resides within the walls and amongst the ghosts.
If you enjoy the article, please share and sign up for future posts from The Brief Chronicles blog. As the Publisher I’m very proud of this blog and its content creators. Especially my Editor Tom Dupree, it wouldn’t happen without him!
Namasté
I vow not to be held down, to learn to let go, to breathe deep and head straight into fear.
Namastè
NicholeDonjè
#artist #nicholedonjeartist #southie #southboston #boston #nyc #newyorkcity #ny #yonkersny #yonkers #photography #poetry #writing #art #lifelessons #personalgrowth #dogmomma #activism #feminism #theatre #director #connection #selfcare #selflove #acceptance #nature #compassion #curiousty #creativity #courage #trust #poet #haiku #ACCCT
Namastè
©NicholeDonjé
#artist #nicholedonjeartist #southie #southboston #boston #nyc #newyorkcity #ny #yonkersny #yonkers #photogrpahy #poetry #writing #art #lifelessons #personalgrowth #dogmomma #activism #feminism #theatre #director #connection #selfcare #selflove #acceptance #compassion #curiousty #creativity #courage #trust
This is the land I come from
the land of
broken tar,
cracks in the sidewalk.
The place where roaches are squatters surviving a desperate home filled with spackled dreams.
She erased the young lovers from the mural on the wall
leaving just an empty tree
never to be climbed again
an artist whitewashing her future.
The land of white knuckles and fight clubs; of white men with dangerous pasts and drunken futures all too close and personal.
A city of tears and required loyalty to false gods.
Desperation
paints the streets
with dreams of escape,
of knowledge beyond
the corners and the cracks
I watch from my second-floor window, the souls that stroll past the burnt out warehouse across the street mirroring their young and angry lives.
Me. Hiding.
Afraid to see myself as the same hollowed out wasteland whose heart smells of burnt wood and mildew.
I hold my innocence and integrity steadfastly close shutting out
the pain of
dying dreams,
lost expectations.
Laughing at my intimate lonely world filled with fantasies so not to cry.
I
Will
Free Myself…
Patch the wounds
Fill the cracks
Plant the seeds that will sprout from new and fertile earth
A tree
growing
never to be hollowed out,
rooted in acceptance.
I will climb
Out of the fear
Into the future
FREE
Namastè
©NicholeDonjè
#artist #nicholedonjeartist #southie #southboston #boston #nyc #newyorkcity #ny #yonkerny #yonkers #photogrpahy #poetry #writing #art #lifelessons #personalgrowth #dogmomma #activism #feminism #theatre #director #connection #selfcare #selflove #acceptance #compassion #curiousty #creativity #courage #trust
The flags clanked and rattled against the poles behind me in the Autumn wind restless like I was wandering in my sleeplessness. I became dazzled by the light from the dock floating over the water creating a haze. My eyes adjusted and granted me permission to acknowledge the texture of the trees on the hill across the river and over the island to find only the slow freight trudging along the mountain; a gentle hum sharing in my loneliness.
Pop!
Pop!
Pop!
We try
to soften the blow
with bubbles
that snap and
make us giggle
as we pack
and unpack
our memories,
long damaged
from the traumas of our past
and fears
of the future.
Pop!
Pop!
Pop!
A laugh.
A sigh.
A jump.
Then back into the box it goes,
intentionally leaving
behind a small
squishy scrap
so that we can…
Pop!
Pop!
Pop!
Remember
with fondness
and not pain.
Namastè
©NicholeDonjè
As she swept
the book out from
her lap so came
her secrets
spilling.
Words,
sounds,
movement;
all interpretations of
desire
trickling down the binding
and arousing
her spirit.
I love when I see something and the words spill forth in pure inspiration completely out of my control. This poem came to me after seeing a provocative image a friend posted on Instagram with the note…”Many interpretations…all accurate.” Thank you, Vesta
Namastè
©NicholeDonjè
It is not our role in life to save those we love. It is our role to be there to support them when they are ready to rise up and save themselves.
