Are you hungry?

I’ve been binging on sweet stuff for a few weeks. The stuff my mind can’t stop thinking about once I see it, the stuff I don’t want to resist, the stuff I’m willing to have for breakfast even though it’s so so sweet.

I haven’t been hungry for days. I’ve filled myself with knowledge and selfishness and pride.

Pride – how can we claim it for such messiness? Because it breeds messiness.

What I give myself is bad. It’s too sweet, too much and too early.

I need to purge. I need to be hungry again. It’s time to give:

  • Love
  • Worship
  • Time
  • Knowledge
  • Sacrifice

The Beast and the Truth

He said to me, “Child, I’m afraid for your soul.

These things that you’re after – they can’t be controlled.

This beast that you’re after will eat you alive

And spit out your bones.”

-The Oh Hellos

So. It’s time. I mean, I hate to be all motivational, but it’s really time. I’ve been lying to myself, and it’s eating me right up.

  1. I believed I could make myself happy.
  2. I believed I could earn approval.
  3. I believed I could control situations and people.

Well, I knew I couldn’t do any of that. I’m a smart lady. But I lived like I could. And I’ve been unsatisfied, self-conscious, living in fear.

So, really, this beast has got to go. This liar.

Thank you. Thank you for getting rid of that beast right away. Thank you for showing me Truth and making it so easy for me to believe things like:

  1. Happiness is an attitude, not a feeling – a cause, not an effect.
  2. Approval doesn’t matter and breeds jealousy.
  3. Control is always fruitless. Freedom comes when we erase expectations and assumed needs.

As usual, my job is to remember. So. Let’s live. Let’s fill each other with joy, unconditional love, confidence and surrender.

On Selfishness

Dark Cruising

© 2013, Francesca Luppino

Why do I do it?

Why do I forget that you’re you – an individual – living in that skin?


It was my fault. Really, it always is.

I know how to give you what you don’t even know you’re looking for. To turn bitterness into love. But I neglect my wisdom.


“How did I make you feel?” he says.

“What did my actions make you think?” he says.


“I want to show you that I care,” he says.

Cue rejection. I demand. “It doesn’t matter how I feel. Just do something about it. Take responsibility for your actions.”

“It’s not all my fault, you know,” he says.

“You forget to change, too,” HE says.


I let it spiral. He leaves.


HE is still here, though. HE nudges me. I divert. HE tries again. I think.

HE does it once more.

I write.

I create.


I forget you, YOU, because I’m in the way. My pride of body, mind, control.

No one taught me to do what I do. It’s innate – a special delivery from sinful nature – evil itself. And I relish it. Even when I taste that it’s bitter, as I always find relish to be. I am nothing without HIM.