stuck in a rickshaw

I was traveling in an under-developed country, sitting in a cute rickshaw, bouncing as I ride, watching the world go by.    It was nice in my travels, to get from one place to another without actually moving my feet. The canopy above me gave me a sense of security from the elements. I was grateful.

Soon another rickshaw drove closely along side us.  The drivers exchanged a few words, moments before our visiting rickshaw disappeared down a side street. Obviously there’s camaraderie amongst the drivers. I closed my eyes and relaxed into my ride.

Ten minutes later, I looked up to realize I was in unfamiliar surroundings.  Maybe the driver had passed by my destination. I called out to him, "Driver, are we lost?"

"No mame", he replied.  So I sat back.  Maybe we took a different route.  Five minutes later, with amplified concern, I called out to him again.   As before, he stated we were not lost.   Questioning, I looked at my driver.  He seemed to be running; not to or from a destination, just running.

Any normal person would have been swollen with fear and anger, yelling or even jumping from the rickshaw. But I'm not much of a yeller, and I was afraid of hurting myself from the fall. So I sat back and listened to my intuition.

"Do I feel in danger?" -- no.

"Do I think harm will come to me?" -- no

Listening to my intuition, I stepped out of my creeping fear and looked at my pilot. It was his fear. Something had happened and he was afraid.

We came to a stop at a large white institutional building. It was a hospital. He dropped the rickshaw and ran in.   I, of course, followed.

Ten minutes later, his beautiful baby was born. A larger-than-life smile replaced his face of worry.   Just as I relaxed into my rickshaw ride, I saw him relax into his role as a father.   I paid him for the entire trip to the hospital, thanked him for the ride, stepped outside and hailed another rickshaw. 

Copyright 2010 Yvonne Ramage

without a safety net

Every day of my life feels as if it begins with me firmly standing on a trapeze platform, hundreds of feet above the ground. I grab the trapeze bar and jump, swinging freely toward the sky.

At the pinnacle of the swing, I let go; flying through the sky, without a safety net below. I am swinging over a large stadium of people, all eyes to the sky, watching ... me.

I twist mid-air and grab, what is hopefully there, another trapeze bar so graciously swinging my direction. It is a perfect moment of "NOW", where both bars are close enough to grab. It is a split second decision and I am inclined.

I swing to the other side, grabbing onto the tall pole for safety. Throwing one leg around the pole; pulling myself close enough to land the other foot solidly on the platform.     Thunk.       I let go of the trapeze bar and wrap both arms around the pole.     Relief.

I inhale, noticing the cool upward breeze from the platform height.
I exhale. Releasing the tension from unknowing.

My senses come slowly to, first sight, then touch, and lastly sound.

"YEAHHHHHHHH" roars from the audience below. I can hear it, coupled and almost competing with the applause.

Quickly, spinning around to face the stadium, waiving my hand above my head for a dramatic bow; the other hand always holding onto the pole, because there is no safety net below.  

Below is the performance of this blog entry, performed by me. enjoy

Upload your music for free at ReverbNation.com

Copyright 2014 Yvonne Ramage. 

muddy shoes

Since young adulthood, I wanted a different path than what was presented to me as a child. I wanted a path that that promised sunshine and glee. My given path was made of dirt, dust and muck. So if I see only one murky path before me, how do I choose to walk a different path?


To answer this question, I sat in observation of people "on their path".  I looked at how I was different than these people.  They stood with perfect posture; so I took yoga.  They smiled a lot; I cleaned by teeth and practiced smiling in the mirror.  They had money; I placed myself on a career path.  All this and still nothing I tried seemed to show me a new path, a different way of living.  No forks in the road appeared before me.  So I sat down in the middle of my path and asked myself, “is this my fate?  Am I supposed to be on this ugly path?”

In the height of my quandary, I looked up and saw a beautiful, happy woman skipping down her path. She was so happy I followed her, an interloper per say, stepping onto this stranger's path.   It was shiny and made of sparkling marble.  How wonderful it felt to stroll down a path of success, even if only for a moment.  I looked down and saw the contrast between my shoes, my muddy shoes, and the sparkling marble.  My shoes were thick, caked in layers of mud; the weight was difficult to lift.  I shuffled one foot before the other.  Simply picking up my feet was strenuous.

As I walked, the mud dried and slowly fell from my shoes, layer by layer. It was the first time I had ever seen my shoes without mud. They were blue, and really cute, with a gorgeous height and stature.   I smiled a real, peaceful smile, felt deep within my soul.  These are my shoes; they are on my feet.  These shoes are the first glimmer of the rightness of who I am.

In an instant, I jumped off the marble path, wiping the marble clean from my muddy intrusion. I apologized to the stranger, and stepped back onto my own path. It was dirt, ugly dusty dirt.  Feeling immanently sad, I cried lakes of tears, which fell from my eyes and onto my path, creating puddles of mud.  I had no choice but to stomp through the mud again; this was my path.

But in the height of drudging along with "fate" and "having no choice", I realized that if I didn't cry, my path would not be mud but dirt.  The mud would eventually dry and fall from my shoes, lightening my load.

After a month of no crying, the mud dried.  For the first time, I saw clean shoes on my own path. They were a bit dingy, but still the cutest shoes I have ever worn.  Happy and elated, I noticed how much easier it is to walk my path with lighter shoes.  And in these lighter shoes, I could walk farther, faster and with less effort.  Instead of spending all my energy on drudging through my self-made mud, I spent it learning and growing in wonderfully positive ways.

Because I no longer soaked my path with tears, it turned from dirt, to a hard surface, to stone, and eventually polished into marble.  

No more muddy shoes.



Copyright 2014 Yvonne Ramage. 

THAT kind of day

I plopped on the sofa, feet aiming for the ottoman, arms out to my side, and feeling utterly depleted. It was one of the hardest days I have ever had.

It wasn’t that "hard" kind of day, where you work your butt off, busy as hell, appointment after appointment, then ending it with some sort of accomplishment. "Long day at work, but got the proposal in by the deadline." Or one of those days where you stand exhausted, but proud of yourself. Proud of who you are, how you handled yourself, feeling satiated and gratified.

                                             

Today was not that kind of day.

Today was the kind of day that starts off on the wrong foot. You trip slightly in the front lawn, leaving for work in the morning.   Before you stabilize, a wind comes and blows you off guard. Toppling slightly left, hopping on one foot, trying to quickly get the other foot beneath you. Then a gust comes and drops you to the ground like a wet towel.

You manage to get up, but now it's blowing you backwards; you struggle to lean into it. You try to walk forward, knowing and feeling that it is a futile attempt.

Then the rain starts, making the footing slippery. Yep, it's wet now. Shuffle the feet, stable, thinking REALLY STURDY thoughts. You start saying affirmations to yourself. "I am good. I am able. I am strong.  I am because I am." Over and over you chant, each statement becoming more like a plea. "PLEASE GOD, PLEASE HELP. I CAN NO LONGER DO THIS MYSELF."

Yeah.... that kind of day.

And as I was sitting on the sofa, recapping the events of the day in my mind, I was in 
complete wonder. ”How is it that I made it through this day? Why was this day SO bad?”

And then I heard her. She was gently and matter-of-fact-ly saying,"To point the way, by contrast. Someone you met, at some time today,will help you on your way.Who do you want to align with?"

Copyright 2014 Yvonne Ramage.