Crisis

My body knew, for weeks, something was coming. Dreams were foreboding. The Power Path reported- September: Crisis.

I assume what is happening is the crisis. I really don’t want to go into it now. But at some point I will. However, I do want to share some lessons I am learning, not necessarily new ones, but occurring in a deeper and more impactful way.

  1. Crisis points: serve many opportunities for healing and expansion.
  2. Patterns: one of those opportunities is noticing psychological patterning. This is important because some patterns at one time served a protective purpose but eventually can and will destroy in one way or another if consciousness is not brought to them.
  3. Stress: fear/anxiety based programming/thinking only creates stress. The answers/wider paths and perspectives don’t live in this superficial, chaotic space.
  4. A quote from Olivia Newton John: Optimism is a choice. I’m aware of the bad; I just don’t choose to tune into it. I am aware of the fear/worry based thinking. At 50 y/o I am very aware of what it creates. I know it is there, I am learning not to engage with it and instead move into the deeper, wider space.
  5. Acceptance: is an important salve to suffering and anxiety based thinking. It creates space for possibilities that could not be seen in tight thoughts and creates space for grieving and feeling what it is we are trying to avoid.
  6. Writing: it helps me slow down the hits of life that just keep coming, to ground, to process and to share and hopefully help.

~Nikki, The Soul Reporter

Cascade Trail

Life....
I’m not getting my life right 

Nature.... 
She will keep destroying you until you see what you’ve done 

The Way Back Trail.... 
The Way Back Trail is more
Relaxed and refined 
There’s a calmness to it 
A way of knowing 
The steps slow 
The air breathed 
A smile 
I’m not trying to get anywhere 
I’ve been

A broken tree....
There She is again 
Within Her a touchstone
Circles of life that tell Her Story 
Unburdened now by life, 
A relic of her life 
For me to wonder about 
To receive a lesson 

Back to the Way Back Trail....
The Way Back Trail is a gift I hope all receive 
It tells you more about those layers, those circles within 
So many circles 
They accumulate 
It’s important to sit and rest along this trail 
And listen, feel, understand 
And say thank you 
And ask:
What do I need for my soul?
What does my deepest nature want?


~Nikki, The Soul Reporter

We’re Closing Down Summer

I bought the mums 
and make plans for a plant that’s been outside. 

A man says, how are you young lady
I say alright
He says I’m working too hard— as he throws large logs on the ground— 
But I’ve got to heat the house for winter.

A woman crouches cleaning up her yard 
Soon her Halloween display will turn to Christmas. 

The crickets know what time it is as do the leaves—
ombré then a swath of color. 

I experience the closing down and I’m relieved 
The summer was hectic 
The heat horrendous 
I made it and wonder 
did I prep enough for winter? 

There’s still time. 

~Nikki, The Soul Reporter

You Were a Deep Player

Back then you didn't take on the world's problems
You knew they were there
And set out your worry dolls down on your windowsill at night
Sometimes you were visited by an elf 
Who squeezed your hand tight and 
Told you bad things. 

But you also played

It settled you
At day you explored and refined 
At night the worries surfaced 
And you knew what to do. 

If life is about balance for you
Where is the play now? 


~Nikki, The Soul Reporter
Photo Source: https://www.wiscnews.com/opinion/columnists/stellpflug-column-worry-dolls-are-for-everyone/article_65717998-8115-5936-b473-d9e47df9290d.html

Stains on Streets

Why do I suddenly care about the origins of stains on streets? 
Can't be water— the sun would scorch it and they would disappear. 

Am I poet like the dream-teller told me? 
I don't know how to write poetry. 
Is this it? 
Does it matter? 

Does it matter where the stains on streets come from? 
Just tells me there was life. 



Nikki, The Soul Reporter

Chicken

Together we play a game of chicken
Russian roulette even—
eventually the bullet kills us
Moth to flame—you say it all the time—
eventually we burn
Bait-and-switch—what are we selling that we won't be giving

Game of Chicken
Your freedom or mine
Certainly not ours together

You go your way
I go mine
Now we collide
Toward death or to freedom
Or are they the same

What gives and when
We are at the edge
Which one of us will swerve
Or will we, at the end?

~Nikki, The Soul Reporter

Everything

It’s everything that I love 
Right here in the middle of these trees on a path full of mulch 

The sound of crows above me
A light mist falling upon me
The sound of day crickets in august at ear level 
A cool breeze through warm moist air 
A slate gray sky 

I stand still in it and ask for guidance as I sometimes due lately: what is here for me to know? 

I open my eyes and everything that I love is right here. 

~Nikki, The Soul Reporter

Evolution

Evolution moves slow and steady. 

I once believed I could clear wounds enough to transcend my upbringing—
To not be my mother. 

What cleared are protections that made me function and survive. 

My daughter said to me: I like seeing you struggle—
A once controlled and efficient mother now stumbles a bit. 

Bring on the staggering
And the unease of failing
And seeing the apple does not fall far from the tree. 

It is true some improvements were made
Maybe I'll see more as I age
But for now I acknowledge evolution is slow
And at least it is steady. 

For we are not efficient machines
We are human with hearts and needs
We store treasures from ancestors and thieves. 

Keep going. 


~Nikki, The Soul Reporter 

Devotion

What’s underneath this madness? Devotion?

I cant see a future without him now that I’m standing at our death door. It was fun to play with the idea of leaving when I was still in a familiar hallway.

Now I am numb again. Familiar only to my pain, and not ours.

But it will return.

Rumi says, keep digging your well, water is there somewhere.

Is it devotion?

~Nikki, The Soul Reporter