Our Sweet Spots, Tender Places, and Soft Spots
As we push through our perils, strife leeches away the pleasures of life. It sours our sweet spots, destroys our soft spots, and forces us to hide our tender places. As this searing loneliness slices into our spirit she begins to beg and scream for us to find her magical melody. In this moment we must sing to her the songs of better times, reveal our vulnerability, and weave her a new tapestry, one that is soft, warm, and wonderful. We must distract her from the horrors of our hurt because she believes that the sum of our existence has solely been suffering. We must remind her that the darkness she sees is blinding her from the beauty, awe, and wonder she has witnessed. In this moment we have to unwrap her eyes so she can see the starlight guides in her life.
In this ballad we have to share stories of our sweet spots. These are marvelous memories that remind us of better times. They are sweet seconds when her heart was happy, vibrant, and bold.
We must reveal our tender places. These are areas of our personality where we feel vulnerable and capable of receiving affection, love, and positive energy.
We must invite her to join us to visit, and weave new soft spots. These are people and places that settle our soul and replenish our spirit. Sometimes we have to sing our own songs. Whenever your spirit needs a lullaby, hold her in your hands and cradle her in your arms, rock her sweetly and sing.
When my heart is hurting I try to take myself back to better times. Moments when life sparkled with divine sensations and sweet smiles. These songs remind me that life isn’t always horrible. It tells me there are majestic memories I can call back to when I need to introduce some light to my night.
One of my favorite memories was Christmas time when my mother was alive. Every year she painstakingly addressed every intricate detail to ensure it was marvelous. She would make hundreds of delicious cookies and scrumptious pies. The Christmas tree was always delightful to see, and the house was wrapped with sparkling lights to match. She would start a fire in the wood stove to create a magical glow, and on Christmas day every gift was perfectly wrapped and infused with every ounce of her love.
My mother was the most wonderful person I have ever loved. She was honest, strong, and wise. To this day I am astounded by the power of her might and capacity for love.
Sometimes she would do things that stun me to this day. One morning when I was a boy I was getting ready for school. She had just finished an overnight shift as a nurse’s aide and had a few moments to share before I headed off to catch the bus.
She said that she was going to cut down the apple tree in the backyard. I shrugged it off and went to school. When I came home I discovered she had accomplished what she set off to do. Using a chainsaw, a hand axe, and a hacksaw she cut and sliced that giant tree to its roots.
I remember rubbing her head and feet as a child, playing cards with her at the coffee table, and eating her delicious home-cooked meals. My mother lived and died powerfully. She was a force of nature. Her heart was unstoppable and amazing beyond words. She was my best friend, my greatest influence, and the most wonderful human I have ever met. Though I miss her dearly I treasure her for the life she lived and the lessons she taught me when she passed.
This is the beautiful ballad I’m singing to my sweet spirit tonight. My heart has been hurting in grave ways and thinking about my wonderful mother is surely saving the day. Her memory is a sweet spot in my life in an otherwise dark and dreary journey. She is a reminder that the sum of my existence has been more than suffering. Thinking about her unwraps my eyes and reminds me that I have had starlight guides in my life.
This is one of my beautiful ballads, and though it wets my eyes, it reminds me of the love I have in my life.
