Meditation 20 tips to help quiet the mind


I always mean to meditate more but I can never stop thinking. I will be studying this tips a bit more. 😀


Chapbook: More Than What You See-10,000 hours

It’s not good when every time
someone asks you what
you’re doing with your degree,
it’s never what your degree is for.

“So, you wanna be a massage therapist?”
“So you wanna be a psychologist?”
“So you wanna be an artist?”

No, not really to all.
Still alright at massage.
Ok psychologist if
I had the patience.
I am an ok painter,
be better if I had more
time to spare…

The 10,000 hours rule,
my art teacher told me,
to be the best at
what you want to be.
But I am too busy trying to write.
I have been at it for over ten years
and more hours than I can count.
It’s easier now; less classes to write and read for.
So, I can finally write what I wish during the week
and not just the weekend.

Silvaan Ruth

Want my Chapbook? Click this link

Chapbook:More Than What You See-What’s My Problem?

I’ll tell you what my problem is
I can’t freaking sp-sp-sp-p-p-eak!
Yet you think it helpful to correct me
pressuring me to repeat
with what little energy
I am having a hard time thinking
as you should tell from my
If you would stop asking
maybe you could start listening.

But I can’t tell you how I feel
or argue my point
because I don’t have the words
to explain it at the moment;
hard to think with your badgering questions
so I s-su-uccumb to your winning-
gloating again.

Days pass.
Now, I have the words.
It doesn’t matter
how much you explain
that I am not stupid
or down play your talking
down to me.
You still explain
the spelling
difference between—
“want” and “went”—
“than” and” then”—
“effect” and “affect”—
“men” and “man”—
as if it’s easy
with your mocking tone.
“What’s your problem?”
like it is not that hard.
You know nothing of hard.
Doesn’t matter the amount of empathy
you muster. You will never be me.
But you’re teasing
me for something
I have no control over.

Emotion is all I remember
of your hurtful words.
but it’s a moot point.
No sense in bringing up old
fights now.

is my verbal answer
to your question.

Avoiding your
belting me with questions.
That only force me into
processing your
instead of just

I just want to be left alone
instead of being asked what my problem is.
I am more verbal than you think.
I am just too tired to

Silvaan Ruth

Want my Chapbook? Click this link

I needed this list: 15 Questions to find your purpose.

Chapbook: More Than What You See-Art

“How hard is it to look up words?”
my first art professor asked the class
with a chuckle, complaining
about student emails.

I laughed with everyone else
hoping to hide the shame
and the tears that threatened.
She proceeded to explain
how some students in college can’t
spell or write
to save their lives
or can’t seem to be able
to use a dictionary.
I swallowed my tears
willing my gut to believe
that she wasn’t talking about me.
Old insecurities still whispered,
but you spell those words wrong too.

I realized I wasn’t breathing.
I breathed,
(She doesn’t know you.)
I thought.
But my insecurities said
don’t you remember…
the time you failed an assignment
because you thought the word
wasn’t in the dictionary?

(I just got the letters switched
around in my head.
It happens all the time)

She didn’t listen to your plea
and failed you anyway.

I shook those thoughts to the back
of my mind. (It doesn’t matter,
she isn’t talking about me
or my failed assignment
with the dictionary.)
I swallowed my tears dry.


(Stop it!
it’s not her, it’s me
thinking this way.)

But what she said
was burned into my memory
and, emails? I never sent her any.

Silvaan Ruth

Want my Chapbook? Click this link

Little poem: Second hand Guinness

What is Second hand Guinness?
It’s when you prefer the taste
On the lips
of the man
That just took a sip
Of his Guinness.

by Silvaan Ruth

ThrowbackThursday :old poem- I Want Him

I want him to dig
his fingertips up
my inner thighs.
Until he meets the right spot,
rocking his fingers against it
with just the right tension. For

I want him to sweep
me off my feet
fighting, biting, and
giggling the whole way down.
Until tired of stalling,
I let him in,
gasping. For

I want him to explore
every crevice with a
reckless ambition.
Until screaming to the
twilighted heavens.
For all the right reasons,
losing all my senses. For

If he can consume me
body and soul
My want for him
Will devour him.

-Silvaan Ruth-