Rushing towards Brilliance: A Tale of Being Ordinary

   Yes, I am rushing again. Well, not quite yet, but I'm trying to. You see, I'm holding myself back. I'm trying to be spacious as I write, but my mind is thinking "I've got 25 minutes to write something brilliant!"
   And then I thought, do I really have to be brilliant and clever ever time I write to you, Oh dear Reader? Can I not be just be myself in this moment, not particularly brilliant and clever, just me in an ordinary moment of drinking tea?
  Would it be okay, Oh dear Reader, if I didn't have anything wise to say, no wit or rhyme to pass the time? (Okay, I just couldn't help that one, it just rolled off my tongue, down my fingertips and onto the page.)
  Would you still read if I didn't have a story to tell, oh dear Reader? If I just sat here and wrote and showed you a moment of my mind?
  You see, I've been thinking about my desire to do things well, not just well, but perfectly. I do like to strive for perfection, and yet I know, as I know you know, the follies of such a pursuit. So today, I thought it might be nice to honor imperfection with less than perfect writing. Not bad writing, mind you, that's too much of a leap, just writing that's okay, that's good enough for today. Maybe not publishable, at this point, but okay enough to share with you.
  Oh dear Reader, what do you think? Is it okay for me to write in this way, to let you in on one of the deepest human secrets, that we are all just doing the best that we can right now, with the resources that we have? Know that I am giving you the best of me in this moment and that is all I can ask of you.
  The sun is shining through the orange silk curtains, giving the living room a sunset glow. The white fuzzy dog is sleeping on a frayed stripped mat, just inches away from the streams of sunlight. And I am writing on a red sofa, drinking a Chai latte. I smile at the sleeping dog and the sun that creeps towards him.
  Oh, here my mind goes again – "Only ten more minutes to write something brilliant. Come on, hurry up! Hurry up and be brilliant!" I take a deep breath and smile, seeing my thought like a cloud – there, but not there, surrounded by the vibrant, singing space of the sky.
   I sigh. What a relief. It's just a thought. I don't have to believe it, or have to do anything with it. I don't have to be brilliant at all. For what is brilliance but a golden line I have drawn high in the sky, a line I'm always trying to jump over and safely land on the other side. The golden line, like the cloud, is there, but not there at all. It is as solid as I make it to be and the more transparent it is, the more I see its true nature – a concept of my mind, nothing more.
   Another breath, another smile. My mind says "Three more minutes to be brilliant! Oh, you must hurry." My smile grows into a grin, for I know this part of myself very well. And today, I don't fight with it, I see it and then it drifts away. But can I do the same tomorrow? Ahh, that is just another thought, another cloud to see through. The clouds drift away with every breath, as awareness dissolves the thick cloak of ignorance, the veil that keeps me from seeing that "I" am not at all what I think I am, but so much more.
 Another breath, another smile. Ahh, it is done. It is good enough. Not brilliant, not perfect, but infused with presence and gentleness. Not rushed or hurried, as my mind would have it, but spacious and clear.
Another breath, another smile, another thought. And on it goes…

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, Angela Dawn MacKay 

www.knottedwordscelticart.com, Twitter: @AngelaDMac, www.angelamackay.com

The Mermaid who wanted to be a Pirate

  Once upon a time, there was a Mermaid who lived deep in the sea. Ever since she was a little girl, she wanted to be a pirate on a pirate ship. She would dress up in her pirate hat and eye patch, waving her sword, screaming "Shiver me timbers!" to all who would listen. She stole pearls from the oysters and took the goldfishes’ gold.

   The Mermaid longed for the day which she could be a real Pirate, sailing on pirate ship on the High Seas. She waited in the underground caverns with her buried treasure in hopes that she could lure in some pirates.

   Then one day, the Mermaid's plan worked. A pirate ship set anchor in the harbor near the cavern.

   “They must be able to smell the treasure,” the Mermaid said, smiling. “For I know I certainly can!”

   The Pirates rowed small fishing boats ashore and tethered them along the rocks. One by one, they climbed through the narrow passageway that was the cave's entrance. There, on a rock in the center of an underground pool, the Mermaid sat, waiting. 

    “Greetings, fine gentlemen!” the Mermaid, taking a bow. “Are you here to look for buried treasure?”

     "Aye, lass, we are! I am Captain Crook, criminal of the High Seas,” the Captain said, bowing as he took off his big purple hat. “And who might you be?”

  “I am the Mighty Mer-Pirate, Pillager of the Low Seas,” the Mermaid said. “ I steal from the waters and the creatures below.” 

   “Well, Mighty Mer-Pirate – I’m afraid that your bounty will be ours! Argh!!!” Captain Crook said, laughing. 

   “Well, Captain Crook – I’m afraid that your fine ship will be mine!” the Mermaid said as she dove into the water and swam towards the pirate ship.

   “Argh! After her, your filthy swine!” Captain Crook said, pointing at his crew.  

     The filthy pirates jumped back into their rows boats and rowed as fast they could. But they were not as fast as a mermaid swimming through the sea.

     The Mermaid easily beat the pirates to the ship. The pirates shouted and cursed, calling the Mermaid horrible, slimy things. 

     She ignored their curses and climbed up a ladder, pulled up the anchor, and hosted the mast. Then the Mermaid stood at the helm of her ship and addressed the pirates below.   

    “Ahh, you poor Pirates, don’t you know – there is no honour among thieves, especially those who sail the Seas. Buried treasure for your ship – it’s not a bad deal – in fact, I’d say, it’s quite a good steal!” the Mermaid said laughing.

     “Argh! You Slippery Fish! We’ll get you, if it's that last thing we ever do!” Captain Crook called.

      And with that, the Mermaid sailed off in the waters, sailing the High Seas, at last. She put on her eye patch and plum coloured hat, the one with the grey feather sticking out of the back. She grabbed her sword and went to the wheel, screaming “Shiver me Timbers!” out to the whales and seals. She swobbed the deck with her tail, sliding up and down the wooden planks. She cursed at the parrot and spit overboard.

      “A real Pirate, I am now, at last! And oh, how it is such a blast!” the Mermaid said.

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, Angela Dawn MacKay 

www.knottedwordscelticart.com, Twitter: @AngelaDMac, www.angelamackay.com

The Cranky Princess: An Enchanted Tale of Depression and Woe

Once upon a time, in a land far away, far beyond this dimension, living a princess named Cora. One morning, Princess Cora woke up and didn't want to do anything. She did not want to go for a ride on her pet Dragon, Grimmel. She did not want to eat in the pancakes in bed. In fact, Princess Cora didn't even want to get out of bed. Some might say that Princess Cora was a bit more than cranky, that maybe, just maybe, Princess Cora was a tad bit depressed.

But the King would her none of it. "My Cora is not depressed," he would say, "She is just having one very bad day."

But a week went by, and Princess Cora still didn't want to get out of bed. "It's too much bother!" she would say, "And why would I get up, when there's nothing to do? It's so boring being a princess!"

Although the King and Queen did not believe that there was anything seriously wrong with Cora, they were starting to get worried about her, so they sent for the Fairy Godmother.

The Fairy Godmother sat on the side of Princess Cora's canopy bed. Princess Cora looked up, and then rolled over. She pulled the green and yellow blankets over her head and groaned.

"What is it, child?" the Fairy Godmother said. "What's wrong? Why won't you get out of bed?"

"Oh, Fairy Godmother," Princess Cora said, sighing. "I just don't want to be a princess anymore. It's just no fun at all."

"Well, my dear, I can grant you one wish," the Fairy Godmother said. "What is it that you wish for?"

"I wish that I was a caterpillar in a cocoon, so that I could stay in bed as long as I want," Princess Cora said.

"If that's what you wish for, so be it," the Fairy Godmother said, smiling.

The Fairy Godmother waved her magic wand and Poof!  – Princess Cora turned into a caterpillar. The green and yellow blankets turned into her cocoon and she hung high above in the canopy of her bed.

"Ahhh, this is perfect!" Princess Cora as she rolled over in her new caterpillar body. "It's like being in a hammock in here! Thanks, Fairy Godmother - I am finally happy!"

Well, the King and Queen were not too happy that the Fairy Godmother turned their only daughter into a caterpillar.

"What are we going to do with her now? How can she be a princess when she's all bound up in silken blankets?" the Queen asked, frowning.

"Just wait, Your Majesty, just wait," the Fairy Godmother said, nodding her head. "Soon Princess Cora will be the best princess she could ever be."

So the entire Kingdom waited and waited. Then one day, the Princess' cocoon started to crack. Princess Cora started to fall, but somehow she did not fall far. She was saved by beautiful yellow and green wings. A caterpillar no more, Princess Cora was now a butterfly.

"Weeeee!" she said, as she fluttered about. "This is fun!"

Princess Cora was not only out of bed, but she was flitting this way and that, flying here, there and everywhere.

The King and Queen were so happy to see Princess Cora out of bed, that it didn't matter to them that she was a butterfly. But most of all, the King and Queen were happy to see Princess Cora smiling and laughing again. The cranky princess wasn't so cranky anymore.

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, Angela Dawn MacKay 

www.knottedwordscelticart.com, Twitter: @AngelaDMac, www.angelamackay.com

The Sage in the Page: A Tale of Self-Acceptance and Appreciation

When I look in the mirror, all that I see

are all these flaws looking back at me.

Not good enough - No! No! Not at all!

these thoughts feel like a thick, iron wall,

imprisoning me in this mental cage,

with no space to see the perfect sage,

seemingly written in permanent ink,

always affecting what I see, feel, and think.

And even though, I know deep down inside

there is no reason I need to hide

who I am to the world and yet I see,

a horrible, slimy thing looking back at me.

A thing with claws of anger and regret,

parts of myself that I don't like yet:

confusion, desire, pride, envy, and rage,

appearing on the ground of the perfect sage.

And yet I know that the thing and the sage,

are somehow linked, like the words and the page,

We get lost in the words as they appear,

forgetting that the page is - Oh, so near!

For the words, they form the story being told,

but the page is the primordial ground of old,

the ground of all my not-good-enough thoughts,

of my should-have's and should-have-not's.

The words appear, but it is I who creates

the story that spins and propagates.

It is the story that's reflected on the page -

not who I am; just the bars of the cage.

The cage itself is not a problem, you see,

as it is not as solid as it appears to be.

I am not what I think or feel,

but I made it all a really big deal,

creating a tale, a tale that is tall,

when, really, there is no problem at all!

With closer inspection and skillful recollection,

I finally see my true nature, my true reflection,

seeing through the story being told,

seeing the perfect sage of old,

knowing that although the words appear,

the ground of the page is always near.

And so I look in the mirror once more,

and see much more than I did before.

With an open heart and a resting mind,

the perfect sage I finally find.

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, Angela Dawn MacKay 

www.knottedwordscelticart.com, Twitter: @AngelaDMac, www.angelamackay.com

I am Here, Now

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, Angela Dawn MacKay 

www.knottedwordscelticart.com, Twitter: @AngelaDMac, www.angelamackay.com