Bronwyn the Brave

Brave. It’s a big word and honorable one. A crown that is never taken lightly by those on the giving or receiving end of it. Brave was a concept that Bronwyn had always admired. That she felt was the greatest compliment to anyone whom it was bestowed upon. A brave person was one to be celebrated and praised. Brave was a quality Bronwyn had a great deal of respect for accompanied by an adoration which she felt was welcomed and treasured by anyone on the receiving end of it no matter who or where the compliment came from. Until, that is, Bronwyn had a complete understanding of what one had to go through to be dawned, brave. Until the person on the receiving end the title of brave was her.

Brave is one thing to someone presenting the compliment and something all-together different to the person receiving it. It isn’t that it is good or bad or negative, not at all. It is simply something you can’t imagine until you yourself have been deemed, “brave.” To date, that was Bronwyn’s largest lesson and realization in her journey.

She in no way wanted to complain, not at all, Bronwyn only wanted to be understood and was therefore always careful with her words when trying to explain her feelings. It was and honor for her to be thought of as an inspiration and to be held in such high esteem. It was taking quite a bit of getting used to as in Bronwyn’s mind she was simply rolling with the punches life had decided to send her way. She wanted to help and empower everyone she could, but what Bronwyn also wanted was to feel loved and to be loved, not because of what she was doing or how she was doing it, but because of who she was. Who she was completely. With all of the courage and fight she was exhibiting, for Bronwyn she was simply walking down the only path available to her. She was still a normal woman with dreams of love, career, romance and adventure. She lived for quietly watching the sun set, walking on the beach while the daylight kissed her skin and curling up under a warm blanket on a cold afternoon to watch movies and maybe order a pizza to enjoy with a good friend or a sweet love.

Bronwyn was many different things. Brave was only one of them. Brave wasn’t even something she realized she was until people began telling her that on a daily basis. It was the label that changed everything for her. For her core group of friends and family brave was an addition to the Bronwyn they already knew. For those less close to her and just coming into her life brave defined her or so it seemed in most cases. In the beginning that was alright, then slowly, but surely Bronwyn realized that brave put her in an invisible glass box on the shelf of a virtual museum where she could be celebrated and admired, but not touched or hugged or loved or understood for who she was as a complete person. As much as she understood and wholeheartedly appreciated the new phenomenon, the label of brave was the loneliest thing she had ever experienced in her life. It was truly the definition of a double edged sword for her because as much as it tortured her it was the greatest compliment she had ever known.

In many ways Bronwyn had become untouchable to others overnight and that frightened her. As elated as she was to have become a brave and inspiring being to so many, knowing that there was no going back Bronwyn could only wonder who could see past that and who would be able to come into her life beyond the brave and truly love her. The brave her, the scared her, the quiet, the adventurous, the annoying, the playful, the good the bad, the ordinary… all of it. How many friends would she have? How many would lose sight of her? Who would someday walk through an Italian vineyard with her simply for the soft company, taste of the grapes and peaceful bliss of the moment without it being about walking beside the brave that defined her in so many ways to so many?

It was in fact a double edged sword and the sword belonged to Bronwyn for the remainder of her existence. It was something that could not be changed and something that Bronwyn had no desire to change. Her experience and outlook was so incredibly different than what the general consensus from the outside looking in seemed to be. Bronwyn was happy with so much of what cancer had brought into her life. Everything was different. More exciting. Better. Nothing was out of reach. Impossible was a concept that no longer lived in her world. She was in the middle of experiencing the scariest, most empowering and most liberating gift that life would ever give her and she knew that. The diagnosis and journey through the fight had given Bronwyn a perspective on life she never would have had and which she held close to her heart, understanding all the while that cancer too was a double edged sword which angered and freed her to extremes beyond comprehension.

There were no decisions or rationalizations to be made. There was nothing here nor there to be done other than wait and see who did what and when as life continued. For Bronwyn all there was to do was express herself in the manner that felt most confortable to her, a manner that allowed her to be. On some days that would be hard, on others liberating. It was all part of accepting the woman she was and the somewhat mythical character she was becoming. It was the begging of Bronwyn the Brave.

awgryphon©

PASSION

Jacqueline walked across Trafalgar Square. No fear. No hesitation. Only love. All for the moment.

She had lived quite a life. Sometimes eventful, sometimes quiet and ever meaningful. Jacqueline was an old soul with a young spirit. That’s what her mother had always told her.

Jacqueline had always been driven. She knew that. Her life was focused and lean. She understood that she was different than most women, but didn’t think too much about it. She could run toward and walk away from anything with ease. She took chances. She lived. With the passion always leading, there was no need to think twice for Jacqueline.

She walked toward the fountain and as she drew closer Jacqueline saw him, standing among the imposing lions that guarded the square and looking back at her as if she was the only woman in the world… the one man who had gotten to her... the one man whom with her made the perfect combination and defined the love that is the passion which drives the meaning of life.

©awgryphon

CLAUDETTE’S “IF”

And then Claudette said, “If you have no room for happy then I have no room for you.” The End

photo courtosey of flicker.com. CLAUDETTE’S “IF” awgryphon©

Cranberries, Rain Drops, Butterflies and Abigail Christie St. John

Cranberries. No Strawberries… and lavender… Fresh mint and rosemary. Abigail woke up surrounded by the satisfying scents of a warm summer day full of life and possibilities. Her bed was comfortable. More comfortable than usual. The blankets and sheets had wrapped around her like the most brilliant cocoon, so much so that Abigail basked in them for a few minutes before she unrolled herself and floated out into the morning. She opened the curtains to find the sun shining after a storm filled night. Rain drops rested delicately where they’d landed on the leaves and flowers outside. Even butterflies were flittering about. It was clean and all so delicious to Abigail’s state of mind… or perhaps, “state of heart” would be the better way to describe it. As she danced from one room to the next drinking her tea, choosing her clothes and twirling her hair, Abigail had the sense that everything around her had changed. It was all for the better somehow. All for the good. You see, Abigail knew, but did not necessarily realize that nothing around her had changed. Nothing at all. Not in the least. Nothing, but Abigail. Because it had happened… again… Abigail Christie St. John was in love… Cranberries, Rain Drops, Butterflies and Abigail Christie St. John awgryphon© photography courtesy of visualizeus©

HE WAS A SCOTCH MAN

Ice hit the side of his glass breaking the silence. He was a scotch man. The smooth liquid poison was the only thing that could numb the pain of her bite. It was like a slow moving venom running through his body, his soul, his dreams, his thoughts... Collin didn’t know what day it was. It was dark outside. Other than that all he knew was it was another night without her. He’d fucked up, plain and simple, and like so many men who let themselves get swallowed up by the phenomenon of an amazing woman, Collin had no idea what to do. He dimmed the lights, put on some Clapton, filled his glass again and stared out into the distance; knowing she was out there, wondering where and not knowing what to do. 2011 awgryphon©

CUPID CONTINUED

A statue, they thought; a myth, a fairy tale. Under constant attack, with wounds penetrating not only the heart, but the soul, and still, just a statue they thought. CUPID PART ONE: http://awgryphon.blogspot.com/2011/01/cupid.html CUPID CONTINUED ©awgryphon

RUNNING INTO THE RAIN

Bridget slipped a wild flower into her hair. The soft blue and yellow of the petals were a lovely compliment to her wispy blonde locks. She looked out into the distance. The sky was heavy, but the storm had passed. There would be another, but Bridget understood that that was where she lived now and she welcomed it. Change is good and storms, in Bridget’s experience, tended to clear the way for new and more vibrant landscapes. Life had never been more beautiful. The wind reared up and the fog rolled up from the sea while Bridget stood gazing out the window, looking out on the cliffs, on her life and on her future. She smiled. Bridget was excited. At peace and fulfilled. She had found that place within herself. That place you find yourself standing when you know you’re whole. When you fully understand who you are. When you are living in that extraordinary feeling of being all of who you are; not because of anyone else or because of anything in particular that’s happened, but because you’ve finally arrived at the place in life you never fathomed existed until you were in it. That in and of itself was the most extraordinary gift. The fact that within that state of being Bridget had encountered a man in the same place still seemed unreal to her. She turned to the mirror. Her dress, satin slippers, the flower she’d picked from the walkway and slipped into her hair... None of it was what she had ever imagined for herself and that made sense to her. This wasn’t a state that someone would imagine. Not her. Not anyone. It was much too simple to think of, it just simply was. The beauty radiating from what happiness truly is was in her reflection and that was all that Bridget saw. She was in just the right place with just the right person at just the right time. Bridget stepped outside into the soft wind, the reaching sun and the ponderous sky. She felt like she was floating as she walked out toward the edge of the cliffs. The world was endless for her; massive and welcoming, like an old friend. Michael watched Bridget walk toward him. The state of his heart and being mirrored hers. They were both in their own completely and at the same time alive as one. They were enamored by each other and seamlessly comfortable in their own skin, in what they shared and in what they would share for the years to come. A man stood to marry them. They were three and three alone. The man’s eyes blessed Bridget and Michael with wisdom and understanding. He could see the future of the union, what it would mean to their lives and to the lives they created and inspired. It was with that knowing that the man agreed to join them and then thanked them for inviting him to do so. What Bridget and Michael had was a love undefined. Full of passion and desire, fearlessness and hope, adventure and commitment. Bridget took her place next to Michael. He gently laid his hand on her waist, her fingers met his and their lips touched in their beginning of forever. A sea spray shot up over the cliffs, the clouds moved in squeezing the sun’s light and it began to rain. Bridget and Michael stayed lost in their embrace as the wind surrounded them, taking with it the wild flower from Bridget’s hair, sweeping it out into the world and taking it out into what would be… © photograph by Allen Henderson. Running Into The Rain awgryphon © All RIghts Reserved

BE YOUR OWN VALENTINE: BRILLIANCE FROM THE HAIR SALON (For Men and Women)

It was a typical Saturday morning. I slept a little later than usual, hit a pilates class after a nice home cooked breakfast and a leisurely cup of coffee then I headed off to the hair salon. That’s where the typical part of my day ended. There is nothing typical about the Saturday before Valentine’s Day at a hair salon. Not at any hair salon. Not anywhere on the planet. It was The Day. The last day to get all dolled up for that spectacular someone who would make Monday, February 14th absolutely fabulous. And there I was, single. I hadn’t really thought about the repercussions making an appointment on such a day would bring. I needed a haircut and who doesn’t I love the salon for a latte and some good girl-to-girl chitchat. It’s one of the few no-holds-bar places still in existence where you can sit with foil on your head, wax on your brows, and talk about anything and everything with people you do know and people you don’t. And the best part is you get honest feedback. Forget Vegas. What happens at the salon stays at the salon and more often than not it helps. Those of you who know this, know. Those of you who don’t, ask anyone who takes part in the salon ritual. They will tell you. I know of what I speak. Now on to the matter at hand, the question on everyone’s lips this morning was, “What are you doing for Valentine’s Day?” I didn’t partake, not while I was waiting anyway. Then my butt hit the chair, the wizard pulled out the magical scissors that make me beautiful, and she asked. Already knowing the answer, she asked. I knew she would. I was prepared. I do love Valentine’s Day, but I’m a single woman and this particular holiday takes two or so I believed until my late morning, eye-opening education in the heart of Beverly Hills. The wizard with the scissors nodded her head as I told her my woes, then proceeded to tell me of a Valentine’s Day which she’d spent alone; and on which she’d treated herself to absolutely anything and everything that made her happy. What a concept. I wouldn’t be in love with a man for Valentine’s Day, but I had just been introduced to an idea that made me smile from the inside out. When the wizard spoke it truly was love at first listen. Be your own Valentine. It’s genius. You can’t go wrong. And again, as mentioned in the title, this is not just a concept for the ladies. Everyone can be their own Valentine. It’s actually the perfect solution. No negotiation. No compromise. You can have a fantastic meal at the place of your choosing. You can dress to the nines and hit the town or have lobster in bed while watching your favorite movie… or a pizza... or a deep fried Twinkie. You can buy yourself the perfect gift and your favorite flowers. Chocolates. Delicacies. Only the best of whatever it is. Only exactly what you want. Remember that perfect card you saw and didn’t buy because you thought you had no one to give it to? Go get it and send it to yourself. If you want to buy a tiny, little lacey something because it makes you feel sexy, then get it. Make a mixed CD of every song that you love and loves you back. If you want to dance, salsa in the kitchen or through the park. It’s all about you and what you want so take everything you’ve ever loved and love it all day long. Take V-Day and make it yours. What was it that the ever so brilliant Carrie Bradshaw said, “The most exciting, challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. And if you can find someone to love the you you love, well, that's just fabulous.” Yes! Sex And The City was a hit for a reason. Listen to Carrie and celebrate the you that you love all day long! Whatever it is you do, the most important thing about every day it that you do something. Don’t talk about it. Don’t think about it. Do it. Go. Seize the day and start with Valentine’s Day! Really, why not? I could write on the brilliance of this Be Your Own Valentine concept forever because I love it, but I have to go plan my very own fantabulous February 14th. Happy Valentine’s Day!