I make lists on my phone – Notes from Brené Brown’s books, My personal shame inventory, Favourite TV shows, Who I consider myself to be, My top 50 books, What I want for my life, Ideas for poems about COVID-19, Affirmations, Qualities had by the guy of my dreams, Men I can remember sleeping with, What’s important to me, Recipes, quotes, Psychic medium readings, Parks to visit for nature walks, Friends who awoke, Christmas card recipients, How to control emotions before a full moon, People in my life I value and miss, Ideas for courses, Films by Jim Jarmusch, and My bucket list. I make lists on my phone— That’s all you need to know.
Learn more about my first book of poetry, Eden Refugee, here. If you know anyone who would enjoy it, please share.
This seeker is an empath; a truth seeker, always striving for more knowledge and understanding of a world she’s been at war with— in her mind—more lately than ever before; searching for something that will give her faith in God, hope for the future, relief from grief. At 57 years of age, she finally realizes that the truth has always been within. All she needed to do was listen closely and start over again. Become the observer, step outside of external dramas, go inside her heart, become neutral and let her higher self show her the right moment to stop fighting, and to help others. The secret is there is no absolute truth; everything in the universe is permitted as part of its evolution. When we become the observer, we enter the eye of the storm, connect with our hearts, and therein we find love and harmony. There is well-being in our shadow selves, so no need to ignore as the body operates in tandem with the subconscious mind. There is peace in silence, and when the noise of humanity invades the quiet, nature and sound healing help seal the cracks. Don’t take life too seriously; enjoy the journey, dream big, love yourself, follow your interests, and LET GO of anything else that doesn’t resonate. You are all that and a bag of chips— you are the observer, the great I AM.
Circle of Angels in Dante’s Paradise by Gustave Dore
Do you or someone you know feel as if you’re getting too close to heaven? Do you feel that life is unbearable on this crazy blue planet and that you don’t know how much longer you can live here? I have felt that way too, I assure you.
Acutely aware that an innumerable amount of people has lost someone they love during this pandemic, from either the virus, because they couldn’t get the medical care they needed, or because they took their own life, I am thinking of you today and wanted to share a poem that I wrote years ago for a friend of mine who took his life. The poem was inspired by the song “Too Close to Heaven” by The Waterboys which you can hear in the stunningly beautiful and powerful video below, posted by deep46blue on YouTube.
If you know of someone who is struggling with their mental health right now, please reach out to The Centre for Addiction and Mental Health (CAMH) for advice on how you can help them. Their toll-free number is 1-800-463-2338.
TOO CLOSE TO HEAVEN
by Christine Bode
You are the brother I never had Seeing your pain made me so sad Grateful for every moment we spent Knowing everything that I said I meant
All the love All the laughter Every joy Every game
You’re too close to heaven to worry about shame
I miss you more than you’ll ever know Every road travelled has led us here If I had my way I would go before I’ll try my best not to need you near
All the raging All the mud Every river Every flood
You’re too close to heaven to worry about blood
Will you ask God when you see him If he will help me bear your loss Tell him I am pissed off that he didn’t pick some other sod
All the stress All the fright Every vow Every tear
You’re too close to heaven to worry about fear
I’ll ask God when he’s listening to take care of your soul I’ll ask him for understanding in this forbidding vicious world
All the past All the future Every hope Every strife
Lonely Is The Man Without Love Painting by Karl Kenda; owned and photographed by Larry Samson
The Matrix
by Christine Bode
Everett, in the movie Paterson says, after pulling a fake gun on everyone in the bar, “Without love, what reason is there for anything?” I don’t know, Everett… nothing, not a fucking thing that matters anyway. Without love, every day is the same damn pandemic day. Wake up, walk the dog, make coffee, drink coffee, read a book, do housework, work at the computer, walk the dog, eat lunch, work at the computer some more… Make dinner, eat it, walk the dog, maybe phone a friend, watch Netflix, go to bed. Get up the next day and do it all over again… in pain. For what? How many useless facts can I hold in my head? I forget more than I learn, every day, so little of it matters. Without love, there’s no reason for anything. Without love, every day’s a pandemic day. Without love… we don’t really exist. It’s all just the matrix.
Bodacious Copy 