Saturday, December 10, 2011

The Dream Catcher

Playtime with Peter was always a treat, exhausting as it may be. Dancing among the bonfire with the others made even the early riser I was sleep far past daybreak. 

I opened my eyes to greet the day and began to stretch my aching limbs. As I prepared myself for waking, I heard an eerie groan beside me. Now fully awake, I glanced over at Peter. His body was completely paralyzed, unfamiliar and as he uttered a stiff and pained 

"Liiiily".

I watched over him cautiously, as not to disturb his sleep.

"Liiily, wake meee...pleaseee".

I gently touched his shoulder and his body melted, back into his human form.

Peter's eyes bulged open with a gasp, awake and startled. I cocked my head inquisitively. He looked over and I calmly smiled. He smiled back and fluttered his eyelids closed again. I watched him fall back asleep, drifting off into a much more peaceful, calmer state.

***

I had always been told I had healing powers, to bring calm and deep rest to the weary and distressed.
Even the most proud and boastful insomniacs fell into a soft, slumber in my presence.

Night terrors and evils, shakes and shivers, goblins and demons stayed far, far away from those that slept under my watchful eye.


Shamans are spiritual  healers who visit other worlds or dimensions to bring guidance to misguided souls and to ameliorate illnesses of the human soul caused by foreign elements.

This is not something I inherited from my family but discovered solely through my own comprehension of my powers. 

Meditating on this concept, I looked back on those moments where I brought spiritual healing to a tattered soul. How strange it must be, to have such a power. How to utilize this magic?

Tiger's mane is a dreamcatcher
Feathers and beads, locks and reeds
When fast asleep
She will catch your dreams

Anoint them in oils, lavender and sage
Exorcise the terrors
They shalt not stay

With watchful eye and easing touch
The mares that plague your night
Will turn away at the burning light

Her glow is far too bright
So sleep, and dream as you shall do
For one thing is true
Tiger will protect you.



Tuesday, September 20, 2011

By Hook or By Crook

The captain was not so much adored as he was feared. He was a brilliant man, very handy and a learned fellow. If you dare cross him so much as an inch, your heart could pound out of your skull for fear of catching against his sharp weapon of a limb. His methods were far superior and complex to the ones that other sea captains shared to train the crew.

***

Fear does not begat success. Fear manifests. Fear envelops and crushes dreams.

I was afraid to fly. Peter told me to think lovely thoughts. He was right. I saw myself flying and I did. 

When my father tried to teach me, he shouted instructions on how to jump on the wind's back, which way to turn and how to steer. It was far more simple than that.

My nerves and anxiety, my fear, held me down straight to the concrete ground. His shouting made me choke on the fear bubbling up inside me.

It pulled me further and further, deeper and deeper until I drowned underneath the tar like quicksand.

The streets of Brooklyn were cold and hard. The blacktop sea swirled beneath my feet.

I kept a steady eye ahead and a sturdy grip on the handle bars. I peddled and pushed off, flying through the air, the wind whipping my face in the crisp September breeze.

A smile played across my lips when I realized what was happening.

I'm flying! Peter was right. 

Monday, September 12, 2011

The Lost Boys Credo

"I won't grow up. Not me".

"Not I".

"Not me. So there!". Never gonna be a man, no you won't.

Oh how I'd love to see somebody try and make you turn into a man, Gabriel.

From this day forth, I've sworn off Lost Boys...

***

Gabriel was such a lovely boy, so much talent and potential. He needed a friend, an advisor or guide more than ever as he shut out the world and spiraled downward trying to escape to his own Neverland in pure isolation. I wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake the apathy, all the cobwebs and dust and tumbleweeds out of his neglected head.

How do you explain to someone they don't ever have to leave Neverland, but we must all, in some aspect, grow up.

Perhaps some pirate wisdom would do him good...

Exerpt from "Tiger Lily's Treasures"

It all started one day
When I met Cap’n James and he shook me out of my shell
“You’ve got talent”, he said “So use you’re friggin’ head
You’ll waste your youth n’ life if you don’t use it well”
“Quit those raves and the parties
Start bein’ the smarty your parents are so proud of inside”
Use those thoughts in your head and jot them down with a pen”
So I did and it brought me great pride

But you can't make a Lost Boy grow up. 


So farewell, fair Gabriel. Peace be with you. Namaste.


Thursday, September 8, 2011

Tiger Lily, Not A Wendy

Going back home to The Jolly Roger wasn't always so pleasant. I wrinkled my nose at the message from the captain beckoning me back home to the ship. Peter could see the fear and sadness in my eyes as they glimmered from a tinge of welling tears.

"Be careful, Wendy", Peter said.

“I’m not a Wendy, I’m Tiger Lily”, I corrected him. 

I made a war-face to remind him of the fierce warrior princess. 
Wendy Darling was a dear, but she was never my style. I was always a tomboy, never cared for chasing boys. I much preferred face-to-face battles and sword fighting. Wendy always waited for Peter to save her in the end. 

It's time to grow from a blushing flower into a hunter, a fighter, a 'take no prisoners and no bullsh*t' kind of lady.

Enter: Pirates.

Lesson #1: Shed No Tear and Show No Fear






Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Interview with a Pirate

"How does one become a pirate?" I inquired.

"You simply are one", he said. "Do you have a pair of boots?"

"Yes".

Do you have an animal of some sort?

"Yes".

"Care for some whiskey?"

"Oh, no thank you. I really shouldn't. It makes me mean." I thought back to the time I downed some Jameson and chewed out my ex-boyfriend years ago. Gave him a right good verbal lashing, I did. I smiled at the bitter-sweet memory.

"Mean...or aggressive?"

Hmm...maybe the whiskey gave me courage to stand up for myself. The fire-water allowed me to take back my dignity, pride and self worth with a sharp tongue. A pirate would never take that kind of bullocks from anybody.

"I would love a swig, thank you". This was a sufficient answer to his inquiry.

***

The life of a pirate...sounds like the life to live, no?

Slugging whiskey, pillaging and chanting, donning leather and feathers, animal hides and skulls.

That's the life for me...

Pirates live the life of adventure and exploration. Pirates in the simplest sense, get what they want.
They don't sit on their boat and think about how to live.
Pirates act, do, and be. How else can they survive?

They seek treasure and hoard, steal, hunt, navigate, and kill to find it, any way possible at any cost.

In summation, Pirates get sh*t done.

I wonder if they drink lots of coffee.