Moments

Moments

Ubiquitous time resting in polarities of heartache and eternal euphoria. A loving glance, touch, etched in the permanence of our hearts with love. Spoken anger and impatience, how I wish we could move space and gently fold back time. The sweet smell of warm August nights and honeysuckle, to remind us of the days, less worry and bountiful joy. The sound of a siren passing by in an otherwise ordinary moment, resurrects the sharp memory of the day our lives changed forever. Sunday mornings, the quiet, a gift bestowed on us, to reset, rest, and gently remind us to settle into the rituals of nurturing routine and simplicity. Looking out the window of the airplane on the way to say goodbye to a loved one, as you fly above the clouds you find peace and understanding that the universe is made of so much more than our limited senses comprehend. That first bite of warm apple pie that transports you to sitting at your Grandmothers table and the ever-present scent of cinnamon in her kitchen and the comfort of her unwavering love. Our moments, akin to a leaf floating on the ocean, she flows with the tide, the sun and moon decidedly dictate her path. The leaf surely experiencing days of glorious sunshine and tumultuous storms, all the while floating, always moving and never in control. Her story started long ago, she has travelled from limb to land, with tales of wind and glory. Equally fragile and strong, storing moments, built on a continuum connected time . The leaf of autumn, much like you and I. Glorious in her lifelong story, travelling in moments, without a sound.

By Alisa Hutton

About That

 

belonging

When did I forget?

Where in between knowing how to roar and pounce with ferocity did I start to bow to what was dumped on my shore

When did I stop kicking the garbage aside and let it burrow in my heart, that shit, nothing but genetic folklore

Who handed over the gift of my worth and desire like weightless confetti thrown effortlessly, just as ignorance breathes nonsense

At what God forsaken turn did I believe what I was told rather than what my intuition knows?

When did I roll over on my back and let life happen, lose my laughter, spice and interest

Who let me, why did they let me, who was cheering for me, did they not see me go

Get up

Stand up

Stop looking down

You and me

We’re meant for so much more

-Belonging

By Alisa Hutton

Silence

silence

There is a quiet voice inside of me I wish could be heard

Inner whispers of a raw hearts hope

Perplexing, too tender to speak and too loud to ignore

In passing moments my quiet voice is kept on wait

An arm’s length away from authentic

It curiously feels as if a leaf tenderly falls from my tree

Leaving empty spaces deep in my roots and little pangs of hurt in my soul

Wishes drifting in the wind

In those who choose not to speak

In silence, nothing ever takes hold

-silence

~Alisa Hutton

Distance

empty

A widening dull gap between flat action and an exposed soul

Empty space that gathers between silence and vulnerability

Trepidation swallowing emotion without care to savor any taste

The flicker of a flame fighting for air

Fingertips barely touching

The heart that will soon be out of reach

The impotence of connection

-distance

~Alisa Hutton

Isolation

island

An island of sadness inhabited by one. The sun no longer seems to rise here or bring a new day. Darkness and silence the only companion to give you warmth. Platitudes arrive on the shore. A message in a bottle from those who feel so far away. I have run the island for months on end in panic and desperation for signs of life, a genuine soul who offers compassion and care. The only thing I seem to find is the reflection of my heart slowing in beat from a lifetime of wear. I often wonder does any of it matter. Will I one day just quietly accept this island stay. Perhaps the learning is accepting the reality and allowing it all to slip away.

-isolation

~Alisa Hutton

Maturity

Time

Every line and scar I wear and the things you see in my eyes when I do not speak tell a story that is called “my life”. Those who care to know will show gentle curiosity and those who don’t were never meant for my soul.  Unsolicited advice is rarely offered in love. Simply the words from those who believe in judgement that my destination is their entitled road. I have fallen like the rest with deafening and heart breaking thumps. I offer thanks. I deeply cherish the rare who helped me stand back up when I was down. I walk with humility and extend the love I wish to know. To think my behavior and care I do or do not show does not affect the world around me would create stagnant flow. Today, I understand the importance of letting my true heart being felt and shown. I wake up scared as there is so much I do not know. This is life and the fabric that will make you whole. I have been blessed to have known love and even if it doesn’t show up it is the direction I choose to go. Criticism is for those with holes in their buckets and are not mine to repair or fill. Their field is theirs. Plant your seeds and care for them if you want them to grow. Time offered in trust, respect and care is the key to my heart. My instruction manual is as follows; be genuine and open and we’ll be all right. I have been around long enough to see the raw workings of life. The nectar of happiness, live with a kind heart and gentle eyes.

-maturity  

~Alisa Hutton

Detachment

detached

Empty spaces that do not bind in connection in a wish to know. A quiet departure unannounced or mindfully shown. An observation simply wrapped that the desire to stand with and beside is not something the pictures show. Like fabric with over stretched thread relationships will either tear apart or be lovingly strengthened and sewn. If love is aloof and never felt the inevitable journey is to walk alone. A plant that is not cared for will always wither regardless of the quality of your soil. History knows unseen emotions and the heart unfed grows plastic connections and lonely souls. Silence and distance; everything needed to quietly go. The crux of connection. Vulnerability, only for the brave who dance comfortably in the unknown.

detachment

~Alisa Hutton

Vulnerability

vulnerable

It is without knowing or guarantee. Blindly jumping off an unfelt edge with no assurance of bottom or gentle landing. Faith in its purest form. Looking out in to the night and desperately trying to adjust your eyes to see, all the while knowing the only thing you need to adjust to is your comfort in total darkness.

Moments that carry our deepest hopes and fears in equal measure. Exposed and held in the same open palm, unprotected and offered to another. In shortness of breath our racing mind tries to control speed and steady the direction with a false sense of security. The universe quietly taps our awareness with heightened physical responses, panic, fear.

Reality; authenticity walks with neither regulation nor control of outcome. Hard and painful, joyous and exhilarating in one deliciously sharp bite. It is your mind screaming “be safe”, reminding you of the last time your heart was shattered in to a million pieces. While your heart steadily whispers “trust”. It is brave, strong, tender, humbling and courageous.  The journey long. The destination? True happiness.

-vulnerability

~Alisa Hutton

Rest

Most of us don’t plan to meet her acquaintance. Her friend the universe shakes us awake and invites us in to her shrine. She is a well-kept secret, not for the palate of those who shy away from reality or the sometimes harsh brightness of life. While she arrives at the most inconvenient of times, she soothes my worries with such an oddly offensive kindness. Planning and urgency are not on her to-do list. Simply light and dark and the racing of my mind. While counting sheep some of us seem to stray from the flock for reasons not quite known. Such polarity between mindlessly resting in peace and congnitively traveling in the middle the night through the darkness and unknown. She has a way of screaming my thoughts in the most silent of ways, while in tandem regurgitating every painful second of my day.  I once felt bitter towards her unruly and unwelcome company in my bed. I see her now and I am reminded of just one thing. The importance of filling my heart and resting my heavy head.

-Insomnia

~Alisa Hutton