This is now an Archive Blog

This is now an archive blog and I will no longer be posting on it. All future blog posts will be on All of my other blog posts will be consolidated on this one blog from now on. It still needs work, but I will be focusing all my time there from now on.

I hope you are doing well. If you have wandered across these writings in your exploration on the internet, I hope you find something here to make you smile and uplift you. Until I return to writing on a regular basis, I send you peace.

Demian Yumei,
blue blutterfly

1 Comment »Keeping the Dream

Keeping the Dream: China

This is dedicated to the students of Tiananmen Square, to every person who had a dream, strived for it and paid a cost so that others may live their dreams — if not now, then some time…a time only faith can see.

But more, I wrote this song for the students who did not fall, for those who survived, who within their precious hearts carry not only the dream but the burden of survivors’ guilt.

I have come to believe that there are some questions that were never meant to be answered, but only met…met with compassion, with empathy and tenderness. That while justice may at times seem like an illusion, the kindness that exists when one hand reaches out to another is very real.

In sharing this song, may you, in some way, feel the touch of my hand upon yours. May the dream that brought you to that appointed time live through you in the way you love. And may we sit in spirit and look to a brighter, more caring future for everyone.

Demian Yumei,
blue blutterfly

2 Comments »Keeping the Dream

Surrounded by friends

As I walked outside today I could not help but notice how incredibly blue the sky was and the breathtaking contrast between it and the billowy white clouds that filled my senses almost as much as the sky they floated against.

Earlier today I had written an article about the importance of surrounding yourself with good people, people who embraced life, who embraced their creative passion.

And it is true. When we lose our creative passion in abusive relationships, being and feeling isolated plays a large role in that loss. It stands to reason then that allowing ourselves to be supported, to belong, to be inspired would be crucial to our recovery.

Today I let my support network go beyond the beautiful people in my life and reached for the sky…literally.

I’m not blind, and I’m not naive. I know how low humanity can sink, and I know that I’ve only seen a small part of it. But I want to see my world as friendly, because seeing it as scarey doesn’t change anything for the better. I can be mindful of needing to protect myself, to make wise decisions when going about in public and use sensible caution at home.

But I’m not so blind or so naive to think that that would guarantee me safety in anything. There’s no guarantee. So if there isn’t, why fill up any more of my time, my precious moments given to me to live, with fear?

I want to see my world as a friendly place. Not foolishly but mindfully…deliberately.

I will not stop helping where I am needed and where I can. I will not stop writing about things that are hurtful and need to be brought to light.

But I will not stop myself from looking at the refracted light of the atmosphere and the chemical composition of clouds and seeing a beauty reflected there that’s meant just for me.

I am surrounded by friends. Most are not even human. But I feel a connection that tells me, assures me, I am not alone.

blue blutterfly

2 Comments »Keeping the Dream

Why I Believe in God

First, why I don’t not believe in God.

I don’t not believe in God because evil and suffering exist, because our choices are a reflection of us and not proof against the existence of something else.

I don’t not believe in God because reason is supreme and faith is flawed, because I’ve seen plenty of humanity’s reasoning, and sorry, I’m not impressed.

I don’t not believe in God because sometimes my prayers aren’t answered, because the fact that I don’t always get what I want or that sometimes shit happens — very bad shit — doesn’t mean there isn’t a greater reality above all that.

I don’t not believe in God because so many horrible things have happened in God’s name, because so many horrible things have happened in our name, and if we didn’t have God to blame or justify, let’s face it, we’d still find a way to screw each other over.

But neither do I believe in God because there is kindness and love and compassion, because there’s selfishness and cruelty and tyranny, and too many times its voice is louder.

I don’t believe in God because sometimes my prayers are answered, because many times they’re not, and more to the point, the prayers of others with more urgent needs aren’t either.

I don’t believe in God because miracles happen, because though I’ve seen them they don’t happen near as much as this world needs them.

I don’t believe in God because of the Bible or any other set of writings held sacred by humanity, because though I respect the high regard in which they are held in the hearts of people, they are words, and when the Infinite is squeezed into the Finite, something is lost in the translation.

I don’t believe in God because of prophets or priests or monks or personal testimony…unless it’s mine, because God is experiential, which means you don’t get to define it for me. I have to experience it.

But you can give me hints.

I believe in God, because when I am very still, and go into that quiet place deep within, when I pull all my attention back from the past and reclaim it from the future, when I gather up my worries and anger, my desires and hopes and set them aside — when I enter into that place of silence, I feel loved.

Pure and simple.

Every time.

No great Cosmic Epiphany. No Mandate from Heaven. No booming voice from a burning bush or the impersonal bliss of eternal oneness.

Nope, I just feel loved, loved by…SomeOne, Something…More…Love with my name on it.

And that to me is God. Or at least, let me clarify, what little I am able to perceive and experience as God.

The thing is, when I take that moment with me, I swear, I can see it peaking out at me in moments of kindness, on the sound of someone’s laughter, in a setting sun, a smile on the face of a passing stranger or the look of wonderment in my grandchild’s eye.

And I am happy.

This is just a hint.

Nothing I will fight or kill for. I promise I will not persecute you, nor will I ridicule you for non-use of your brain if you disagree.

Because frankly, I don’t care. I can always return to that quiet place, and the more times I do the more moments I take back with me, and in this world I am starting to see unfold, there’s room enough for all of us.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Demian Yumei
blue blutterfly

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In This Moment

In this moment, my heart soars with joy
In this moment, I am washed over by tears
In this moment, every laughter, every cry exists
and through it all I feel Your Presence
A part and Not a part
I do not understand
and it’s okay

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
blue blutterfly

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Do Buddhists Believe in God?

Do Buddhists Believe in God?

I do

I add to the Ocean’s joy
The tiny drop of water
its song
its tears
its story begun and ended in a flash

The Ocean gives
and receives
The cycle recycles
Each time I return
I add to the Ocean’s joy

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
blue blutterfly

3 Comments »Original Poems and Such

Wandering in the desert…

A friend of mine posted a quote by Byron Katie on her Facebook page. “If you are mentally somewhere else, you miss real life.”

I thought about this, and how hard it is for me to remember to be in the present moment. I find my thoughts wandering into the future or drifting into the past. But more often than not, I’m turning some idea or concept over in my mind, analyzing it, holding it up to the light, delving into some deeper meaning or searching for some secret it may reveal. And I argue, debate many different angles to an idea, so that I may become intimate with it, so that I may understand it. I imagine myself discussing issues with “others”, challenging them, being challenged by them.

I find it invigorating, and then I have to write, and the ideas unfold with even greater clarity…or trip me up with a sudden twist here or turn there, and I have to think quickly on my feet or go back to the drawing board. I love it.

When people tell me I’m articulate and they like how I can explain something that they haven’t been able to put into words or help them gain a new perspective, I’ll laugh and say it’s because I’ve already had this conversation. Never as good or as satisfying as when enriched with the contributions of another person, but it provides a springboard of some level of understanding with which to engage another.

It’s not a bad thing…except when I don’t turn it off. And I do it without intention. When I leave my propensity for mind wanderings on and let it run its course. It becomes a runaway lawn mower, mowing down the present moment, so that I miss what’s unfolding right before my eyes.

There’s a big difference between creatively engaging your mind’s ability to analyze, imagine, problem solve, create or envision, and becoming trapped in that process. What’s the good of wandering off if you never come home?

The present moment is home.

Wanderers can explore, but everyone needs a place to rest, and ideas need a time to manifest, and it is in the present moment where these things can happen.

We need to rejuvenate, to return to our center, our source. It’s the pull of every living thing, from salmon to geese, from the butterflies and hummingbirds to the human spirit. We all hear the call of home.

But we can be gone for so long that we no longer recognize where…or what it is.

In an aimless trek through the desert, we become infatuated by the mirages that appear before us, tricking us further and further into a vast desert, so that we give up what’s real for a pursuit of what’s not.

That’s the real life we are missing, when our thoughts are elsewhere. Instead of bringing back a richness of our travels to the ever richer present now, we keep following one mirage after another.

I can think. I can explore. And I can come home.

~Demian Yumei
blue blutterfly

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The Same Reality Differently

I wake up and step outside. It’s a beautiful morning. The air is crisp like Fall, and a smile immediately comes to my face. It’s almost May. I know many people can’t wait for the warmer weather to get here. A week or so ago, the temperature hit in the 80’s. They were ecstatic. I was miserable.

As I get older, I find myself preferring the cooler weather more and more. I even like it when it’s cold. It heightens my senses, invigorates me. I find myself drawing in deep breaths of air. I like how it feels in my lungs. I seem to come alive. And then there’s getting warm. The steamy bowl of soup, the hot cup of tea. I don’t believe you can appreciate those in warmer climates like you can in the north.

But I wonder. The hotter weather will be here soon. Do I have to be miserable?

It will be a physical challenge for me. But what about the mental and emotional challenge? How will I handle that? Or maybe that’s the problem, that I perceive it as something to handle rather than to choose.

My preference is for cooler weather. Nothing wrong there. But my attitude toward warmer weather bears some scrutiny.

Every year I go through this. Every year my patience melts as the pavement seems to melt under the heat, and I complain and whine and moan about how miserable I am. I can make myself miserable while I’m still in my air conditioned home knowing I have to go outside in the heat.

Why do we do that, anticipate grief? Do we think we need to practice misery? Don’t most of us have that down pat? I do.

I think this year I’m going to try something different. Without denying that hot heat affects me physically, I’m going to try to experience the same reality differently. Instead of fighting the heat and hiding from it, I’ll try to befriend it and become more mindful and look for the pleasure in the experience of it.

You know that phrase when asked how you’re doing, “Same old, same old”? Well, that just doesn’t apply to things, mundane or otherwise, that happen in our reality. It also applies to us, our responses to the things that happen in our reality.

How about meeting the “same old” happenings with “brand new” responses?

Perhaps finding balance between that which we prefer and that which we don’t and crafting our experiential reality is part of what this journey is all about.

Regardless in whatever larger context this experience may lie, I’m beginning to think maybe you can’t truly appreciate a bowl of gazpacho soup or an ice cold drink like they do in warmer climates.

You know, I just might let myself find out.

~Demian Yumei
blue blutterfly

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