Responce to a thought

I live to satisfy my personal maral desires which is prompting happiness
In doing, so i am at peace enough to help you make life
 a bit less dounting....

Chapter one

FINDING ELIZABETH M...

Chapter 1

It was dark and I can remember standing in the hallway watching them. I peered around the corner not wanting them to see me. They were in the kitchen. I was far enough away that I was not seen by them but close enough to see what was happening.

         It’s strange to me now that I don’t remember the sounds from that night. No screaming or yelling. I don’t even remember my own breathing. It’s only what I saw that I can remember. The light from where they were, the wall I clung to and the darkness I stood in. It is all imprinted as part of my memory. I remember their movements but not the meanings behind them. I was too young to understand at the time what was happening but I knew that they were angry. And could feel their frustration.  I’m not sure how long I stood watching my parents argue and fight about their marriage. I also could not tell you if they were violent and abusive to each other. I just know that I was watching.

         In that moment I was completely unable to understand the consequence of what was happening. I can tell you now, the aftermath of this encounter between my parents, would leave me in what I call, the endless season of change, known as my childhood.        

         Eventually their conflict reached its peak. Something must have happened but in a split moment my dad could not bare his burden of marriage and fatherhood anymore. He left, just opened and closed the door. Just like that he was gone. That was the night I watched my father walk out on our family.

         I remember racing back to my bed, so my mother would not find me. I did not want her to know I was watching. I knew she would want to comfort me and that she would want to talk. Nothing could be said though, even I understood that much. So I hid under my covers and closed my eyes. I waited for her to come and check to make sure my bother and I had not been woken up by what had just happened.

         I was two years old the night my dad left and this is the first memory I have of my life. It is strange to me now that I don’t remember anything before. Not a single moment. I could not tell you that my father he loved me. That he had always wanted a daughter and wanted to name her Elizabeth. I was a Daddies girl, so much so that I only ever got one spanking from him. I have no memory that he called me boo bear because I liked Winnie the Pooh and would say boo bear instead of Pooh Bear. No memories of being a family or anything about my mother and little brother. Nothing about being around the horses he trained or my parents tucking me into bead. I don’t even remember my parents fighting. I am told it was a frequent occurrence and that night was no different from many others.  All I have is that one moment. I guess I have always considered it to be where Elizabeth M begins. 

The Quest for truth

If you are brave enough to leave behind everything familiar and comforting, from houses to bitter old resentment and set out on a truth seeking journey externally or internally and if you truly regard everything on that journey as a clue, you accept everyone you meet as a teacher and if you are prepared to to face some very difficult realities about yourself the truth will not be withheld from you. 
-Eat, Pray, Love-



Elizabeth M is on a quest for truth.

In my 27th year

“I am not who I once was. Nor am I who, I will become. Although it might not be apparent, I am aware of my journey and my place on its path. My faith has changed, my core is being refined. I am today all that I can be and all that is needed. If you are too quick to listen and speak, you will miss what I have to say. I am not alone and I am not wrong. I am strong. Strong enough to say I, want, and will. I will not accept less. Trust that I know truth. And know what is real within my heart. I may not tell you my truth but it is not because I am ashamed or afraid. You just may not be worthy.” This is my life in short burps of what I see, as I walk on in this season.

I am writing a book about my current Journey. You could say that I am writing my autobiography of my life up until now. The pages fill with words every day and quiet moments and circumstance lead me to action. I am not a poet, and words are not my talent. But I have a message to share and a gift to give. One day, someday soon, it will be complete and I will share the pieces of my life with you, step by step. Thank you for your life, who you are in my life and who we are becoming.

Thank you for my Birthday wish

With so much love for you,

Elizabeth M

How to Write a letter to your Senator

For those of you who would like to give it a try, I found some tips on writing a senator.

Thought that I would share!

http://www.wikihow.com/Write-a-Letter-to-Your-United-States-Senator

Happy Writing!

Elizabeth M, Empowers Change

Words two

This was the first poem I ever wrote, its a little rough and there is so much going on. I think I tried to put all my life experiences in one literary mold.

a poem

As a little child would never know

what danger the heart faced

The translucent pain that would

find this life in a dreary mess.

Secrets hidden for generations and

lies consumption taken control

while other souls held at bay.

Buried would bitterness and a torn heart

lay beneath the pretense that show

Acwored and hesitant facing this world

questioning only what was feared,

everything

Grasping however the light some times seen

but only glimpses would they explain

Above the lies and hate hope would bring first fruits

and rest for the soul caught within the darkness

whose hue what tainted, (as) light.

Tattered hope will only sustain

but never bring release

A choice must be made,

face that witch is alone and dark

or forever run into its infinites (existence)

Not alone, will this darkness be challenge

For a friend would not only pass buy but stop!

To nurturer and teach the frightened and captive heart

By Elizabeth M

Raw Words day one

The summer of 2006 was one of the most memorable ones of my adult life. My dad lived in Big Springs Texas, 11 hours from Westminster , Colorado. He offered to have me come and spend three weeks with him traveling between texas, oklahoma, and more of texas. I had just broken up with preston and thought that it was going to be the best option I could have asked for. Besides I had not spent more then a day with my father in a long time.

Knowing that I had to rent a car and drive to texas alone, I requested the aid of my friends to burn me CD's. Josiah burned me every, single Ben Folds album because at the time I was obsessed and felt cool listening to it. Justin made me sweet a mix that opened my mind to such bands as yellow card and some other band that he would be disappointed I forgot the name of. Shoot, if i could only remember. Then liz made me three or four silly songs CD's to keep me awake and Snooky made me some betharoni mix's as well. It is of note, to express that those mix CD's are of the most valuable and loved of any I have ever received.

The night before I left, Justin and Josiah stayed up all night watching movies and then came over to make me breakfast. I think it was something like three or four in the morning. Again, something that I treasure to this day.

As I set out on my own, in my shiny silver honda civic rental car- my all time favorite care- I was proud of myself for doing such a brave and simple thing. Little did I know about the summer that awaited me and how the events and conversations, somehow shaped the tone for how the next seven years of my life would proceed. That it would be the last time I can clearly define who I was and the last time I remember being confident in my life and its purpose. Ultimately, it was the last summer I was protected my by ignorance and began to loose my innocence.

Danielle is someone who has been a part of my life and seems to say just the right thing at the perfect time. She mentioned a writing challenge over the next month and I am thinking of participating, this is my attempt. There is no editing no, going back and redoing, only raw words....

Elizabeth M, longs to write words