Greetings!

 

I have so much to be thankful for.  I'm sitting here as I see many writers do in many movies about writers that I have seen, typing and re-typing that first line again and again waiting for that sure direction: type, delete, type, delete...type, delete; and finally, the rhythm and the words just begin to flow. Then, you know you've got it.

 

I've been thinking a lot about my song, "Your Presence" and the very magnificent, powerful effect it is having on a lot of people.  I was recently contacted and invited by the music director of the world's largest on-line music platform to create a profile and up-load my music to their site: ethnocloud.com.  He said that he had had a chance to listen to my music and felt my music would be a great fit for their site, and that they, at ethnocloud "Love my music..."  For this, I am extremely grateful.  With the up-load I had to write a song description.  For "Your Presence," this is what I wrote:

 

The song, "Your Presence" was inspired by a lovely, young lady friend of a few years ago.  It is extremely passionate- resonating in desire, want, of a seemingly impossible love between two individuals set worlds apart in age: "Well sometimes it seems that we are worlds apart, in the vastness of this time, don't quite know where to start. Oh feel my yearning, hear my cry, just had to come and say hi.  Oh just to be near you, no words spoken, enough to carry me through."  It is a song too, of a deep spiritual connection and effect, which, any time that I have sung it live (as a duet with myself to the CD), women can express their gratitude and appreciation no further than the many tears they cry as they express to me afterward, "That is so beautiful...so very beautiful."  For this I am so humbled and eternally grateful that my music can touch another human being to this magnitude: to the inner most being.  Thank you!

 

This is what's been fluctuating in my spirit, for days now: the magnificence, magnitude, wonder, strength and beauty of "Your Presence" and how it is reaching the hearts of people.  As many others do when I sit and listen, I too, marvel at this song.  It's captivating; it's mesmerizing.  It's gripping.  I remember when I was first in pre-production and laying down the track, it was just me and my guitar.  My producer said to me: "Just relax, and sing it as if you were singing it in your living room."  I did.  Just me, my emotion, the studio and my guitar.  When I got home later that day and my producer sent me the link to the pre-production work, I kept listening to the song over and over again.  First, it was hard to believe that it was actually me- singing and playing (this seemed like a dream so far out of reach, and something, because of my financial situation, that would never happen!), but greater than this, I kept hearing the sound of keyboards- the sound of a piano accompaniment.  I played it over and over again and even played it for my buddy who was there in the studio with me.  I told him, "Listen. You can hear the sound of a piano...but, you were there. There was no piano accompaniment." He listened and heard what I had heard.  I emailed my producer and asked if he had added an accompaniment and he said no, the track was in its original state.

 

A few weeks later my producer called me and told me that he had finished the arrangement for "Your Presence."  He called me in to have a listen and to add the vocals.  We listened to the arrangement a few times to get the feeling and do a dry run with the vocals.  Upon hearing the first few seconds I knew immediately that that was the sound I was hearing.  I said excitedly and with great surprise to my producer, "That's it!  That's the sound I've been hearing!  That's the exact accompaniment!"  He sat and smiled, then asked if I liked it. I said, "I love it! I absolutely love it! It's beautiful! Let's do it!"  Then by the amazing, creative hand and professionalism of my producer, and great, great team work..."Your Presence" was born.  And to think, it all started with just three chords that I knew on a guitar: G, A, and D- and an inspiration that birthed some of the most beautiful words that I've ever been privileged to write.  Thank you! Thank you so very, very much!

 

Here's what one of my dearest friends wrote after viewing and listening to the video on youtube:

 

Godwin.  I am so blessed by this song, this music, and this video.  Your beautiful smile just brings tears to my eyes. Miss you- love you always- your friend, Elise.

 

Others wrote and many agreed: "Powerful!"  This says it all.  Again, I am so grateful.

 

My nephew and his girlfriend when they first heard my music, and this song in particular, the next day he said to me, "Uncle! We sat and listened to your CD when we got home last night and Amanda just cried.  All she could say is, 'This is so beautiful'..."

 

I sang the song at an intimate gathering at a library event and the lady closest to me wept beautifully through the whole song.  Afterward she smiled the most beautiful smile and said, "Thank you.  Thank you so much...that is so beautiful."

 

Recently in my home community, Kincolith, on June 22nd, I had the distinct honor of being the main speaker at the "Community Graduation Celebration."  There was about two hundred or more people present.  I opened up speaking on goals, aspirations, hopes, dreams, and desires...then sang "Your Presence."  It was powerful, it was passionate, and it was beautiful.  I was singing in the place where it all began, with my mother and father...with my many sisters and brothers.  I was singing in the place that is my home: I was singing in Kincolith, the place of my birth.  The interesting thing, before this event, due to incredibly hot and unusual temperatures for our home area (even at this time of the year!), way up north immediately below the Alaska Panhandle- I had almost lost my voice.  For days leading into this event I could barely speak, much less in volume without my voice constantly cracking and breaking.  The event was a few days away and my voice grew incredibly worse. I did what I knew would be my only hope and I knew I could not possibly back out.  I prayed.  These are the days that I live for.  The days of the seemingly impossible but with great potential for a miracle.  The event came, I was called to the front, I whispered, "Okay Father, you're on...let's do it."  With no absolute certainty as to how it would turn out or if my voice would return- I took the stage.  I began to speak; I began to sing.  My voice was one hundred percent...I sang, and I say this "ever so humbly and with extreme, extreme gratitude," I sang, as it were, the spirit of my mother singing through me- with the voice of an angel.  I knew it; I felt it: I lived it; I breathed it...every second, every moment.  As the lyrics were flowing from my being more beautiful than the mightiest river to one of the most beautiful arrangements that I have ever heard, in my heart through the entire performance, I was humbly thanking the Father- for His faithfulness.  They felt it too.  I could see it in their faces; I could see it in their eyes; and there was a lady who danced from the beginning to the end- joyfully, and excitedly.

 

Afterward this other lady came literally, running up to me and said, "Thank you Godwin!  That was so beautiful!  It made me cry.  I cried all the way through, my mother had to hold me.  I could really feel it.  Thank you!"  We hugged.  I smiled at her and thanked her. 

 

Many came up to me after this performance and one of the greatest was another one of my nephews, in absolute delight.  He hugged, hugged, and hugged me; he could not let me go.  He kept shaking my hand and said, "That was awesome uncle! You nailed it! You're a rock star!  And that story, that was awesome!"  I looked at him and smiled, then said, "Well, getting there...thank you."  He could not contain his excitement, and the encouragement and appreciation that flowed from the many others was priceless. I can't help it, and I say this with a slight lump in my throat and with a heart full of gratitude, it's hard to believe that just a few years ago I wanted to die. Oh, how I wanted to die.  There seemed to be no hope and that things would never change.  I'm glad I didn't die. I'm glad to be alive: to be writing, to be singing, to be sharing, to be loving.  I've learned though, as great and as wonderful as this all is, not everyone is going to accept the love I try to give- and the hand of friendship that I try to extend.  I've learned too, that this is okay; and that  I'm okay. 

 I'm so thankful for this musical journey and all that it has been so far.

Regardless of where this all goes, I'm so grateful- I'm so very thankful.  And to everyone of you who speak to me continuously about "Your Presence," thank you! And I'm so very glad you love the song and it is my true privilege and honor to share it with you.

 It is because of you I write; it is because of you I sing: Thank you!

 Sincerely,

 Godwin H. Barton

 

 

 

 

   

 

 

 

  

 

Passion

 

You can steal my affections-

you can take my heart;

you can take the world that I live in-

and tear it all apart.

Somehow through the carnage-

and the wreckage piled mountain high;

I'll find my way back to you...

"I'll never say good-bye."

 

Godwin H. Barton

 

Photo: By April Koehler: www.redbubble.com

My most beautiful mother: Myra Edith Barton (I love and miss you so much!)

Greetings!

 

I'm writing to you from my home community, Kincolith, in Northwestern BC.  I left Vancouver on Tuesday, May 28th to attend a memorial and funeral in a small community called "Skeena Crossing," a fifteen hour drive north of Vancouver just outside of Terrace.  Since I was so close to home, a further four hour drive north and it had been a while since I had been up this way, I decided to come home for a couple of weeks.  It's so gorgeous here: we're nestled so beautifully immediately below the Alaska Pan Handle and surrounded by mountains, rivers, and nothing but forests.  It's so amazingly beautiful! For me, this is where all life began; this is where I was born.  This is where my teaching, singing, and praying at the table with my mother and father began.  The early 5:00 am starts that dad would have to his day in stoking the fire in the old wood stove- bringing back to life the ambers left burning from the night.  He would add more wood to increase the heat in the house before he woke up all his children.  I always seemed to awaken the same time as him.  I am the youngest.  I'd wake to the sounds of dad milling around in the down stairs area preparing the house for the awakening of his children to face together another day.  Once the wood stove would be burning semi-furiously again and giving off a lot of heat- he would further prepare for his most important ritual of the day.  I'd remove the vent from our upper bedroom floor, peek through the hole...and there dad would be as always: at the little table, right next to the living room window, with the cool-oil lamp lit and his hands folded across his bible- getting ready to pray.  At this point I always made my way downstairs.  If dad was already in prayer- I'd sit quietly next to the wood stove, warming: listening to him; watching him.  Most times he would sense me and call me over.  We'd say a prayer together as we held each others hand warmly on top the pages of his open bible.  He then would say, "Go and get your mother, we'll read to you and you can sing with her."  These were some of the happiest, most precious moments of my life.  They'd fully feed my most curious mind and young soul.  I could not get enough of the bible nor enough of the prayers which seemed to be bathed in such a tremendous peace.

 

As we sang, and mom sang with a voice of such incredible beauty, she'd say, tapping me on the belly, "Bring it up from here son, bring it up from here.  Really feel it."  Back in the day the Christ Church Choir used to number one hundred or more members- and my mother was one of the key singers.  She sang with so much passion and beauty that the village often requested that she sing solo.  She was always put at the front.  My aunties always so proudly shared these stories with me and told me again and again how beautifully mom sang.  The people loved her.  "Bring it up from here son, bring it up from here...really feel it."  I was so proud and wanted to match her beauty because she just seemed to care so much.  I was happy to sing for her; to sing with her.  One lady asked me recently, pertaining to my CD, "How do you get all that emotion into your voice?" I said, "My mother.  She sang with a voice of such incredible beauty and she taught me to sing.  I do it for her...in honor of her.  When I sing, I can feel her presence.  I see myself again kneeling at her bedside or at the table as we'd sing, pray, and read for what was hours but seemed like minutes.  These were the greatest times of my life."

 

Recently I was asked to participate in a "Multicultural Mother's Day Tribute."  I accepted.  I sang as a duet with myself to the title track of my CD, "Your Presence," in honor of my mother.  I then read the poem I wrote especially for her.  It was one of the most passionate, most powerful performances that I've ever given as it was the first real tribute I'd ever done in honor of my mother since her passing forty-four years ago.  The response was phenomenal and the people incredibly moved and inspired.  It was the greatest challenge to keep myself from crying as I sang- as I could clearly see, feel, and hear my mother:  "Bring it up from here son, bring it up from here.  Really feel it."  I took all that energy, passion, and emotion and turned it into one of the greatest performances I'd ever given...for you mom: "Happy Mother's Day! Love your son, Godwin" (May 12th, 2013).

 

Mother    

 

No longer sorrow and grief, but an inspiration and a song

many years have gone by, since you've been gone.

The days turned to weeks and the months into years

washing away of pain by drying of the tears.

 

It seems like just yesterday when by your bedside I would sing

as you encouraged me toward God's love, to be my all and everything.

Though in my childhood I'd have seemed too young to understand

yet I had faith enough, that still God would hold my hand.

 

God's power, love, and eternal Grace divine

was the message you imparted as this song we sang.

It seemed so in preparation for what was to come

for in a short time I knew not, that your time would be done.

 

So since by death's door yet into life you've parted

no longer aching, anguishing, sick or broken hearted.

In the years though I've missed you deep down inside

my love for you, for my Lord, I can no longer hide.

 

In the newness of this life found amidst great pain

reminded further of God's love, by a brother, returned from a plane.

God's Love and Mercy would shine as a heavenly light

my brother, not ready yet, to take his heavenly flight.

 

Though in our lives dear mother you've been absent from us

Mother, we love you, and by faith no longer fuss.

For we've been promised by God's most reassuring word

that soon we'll be together, for our prayers He has heard.

 

So mother please forgive me for my anguish over the years

in my love for you, I seemed to cry unending tears.

Now that I've grown in the years gone past

I look forward to seeing you, together, forever at last.

 

I remember you in your beauty, your life and your love

as your presence envelopes me from heaven above.

If heaven's as beautiful as you are serene

then the love of my savior, I've more than felt, I've seen.

 

So to you who now are my inspiration and song

soon we too, from this old earth, soon will be gone.

For by death into life or that great trumpet sound

mother, we your children, will be homeward bound.

 

In memory of our loving mother: Myra Edith Barton

Word Poetry Canada International Peace Festival 2013

University of British Columbia: Irving K. Barber Learning Center

April 4, 2013

 

Greetings!

 

I look around me and see the various acknowledgements that I've received as a poet.  There are the very beautifully printed and framed "Certificates of Appreciation" that I've received through "The World Poetry Reading Series and Radio Show" as well as a very beautiful bronze medallion that I received as I was preparing to go to Vilnius, Lithuania, for a major literary seminar.  The medallion reads: "World Poetry Ambassador To Lithuania: Godwin Barton 2009".  Through this same reading series is the above award of recognition:  "Empowered Poet 2013 Godwin Barton".  Then, there are the many very professionally made posters featuring my photo and biography through the "Poetry Around the World" reading series which are stored nicely in a drawer awaiting the day that they shall be framed and hung in a very special place.  In my dream, I imagine a room of accomplishments which shall feature these awards.  There shall also be a large framed photo of my first CD, "Godwin Barton: Your Presence" as well as some of the photos from my first three hour professional photo shoot surrounding the making of my CD and recording sessions.  Then there's the "Chicken Soup for the Soul" publications.  My first, major, literary accomplishment: What joy I felt at this time- and the peaceful tears of gratitude that flowed.  It was such and amazing experience.  I shall print the covers, enlarge the photos...frame, and they too shall have their place in this room of accomplishments.  

 

I look around me and I realize that I have not given myself enough credit for these achievements, for these accomplishments.  In my heart, truthfully, I belittled them, I under-appreciated them.  Why? Because in the face of all these accomplishments there has always existed a certain presence of pain, of loss, of sadness: there has never ever been that truly someone special to share them with (who came with me to these events...) and my family have never ever really attended any one of the functions to which I have been a guest, or a presenter.  They have, however, acknowledged my success and have many, many times congratulated me and told me  how proud they are of me.  For this, I am thankful.

 

I came to this realization because in church this past Sunday, during our Adult Sunday School Class, the teacher, an accomplished author and professor at a local School of Theology, said while he was presenting his latest publication: "I realized after publishing this book, that I really need to believe in it! I really need to believe that what's been written is of value to me and to anyone else that may read it.  It is meaningful and if the publishers, editors and everyone else involved seen it as important and meaningful enough to publish than I too must feel and appreciate it the same way."  He went on further to say, "I realized that I wasn't giving myself enough credit for this tremendous accomplishment.  It is important.  It does matter.  And I've got to really, really believe in it!  I've got to really, really believe in myself and my accomplishments!"  The thing that stayed with me so strongly?  "I've really got to believe in it, believe in me...and promote it!"

 

Poetry does matter, and through the power of words does change the hearts and minds of people.  My poetic achievements and awards are significant, they do matter, and are very important.  I cherish them, I appreciate them: I love them.  I am so thankful.  I am a singer, a songwriter, a storyteller and a poet: I write words that can change the world one person at a time.  I am a powerful and beautifully created human being.  I am gold.  I am precious gems, jewels, and stones...my words are magic.  From my heart to yours...Godwin H. Barton

 

My Prayer: Peace, Unity, and Love

 

It seems a prayer we're searching for, to ease heart ache and pains

looking for a sure direction, to turn loss into gains.

Looking for a path to walk, not laid with thorn or brier

seeking help to spread our wings, that we can go much higher.

 

I pray for you the strength of God, in the thundering of the sky

the enormous energy of lightning bolts, when all you do is cry.

I pray for you the peaceful streams, that flow quietly through the fields

when you're faced with life's turmoils, and everything that it yields.

 

When you're lonely and all alone, I pray for you a friend

a loving hand for you to hold, to be with you to the end.

When the path's too torturous, and the miles too long to walk

I pray for you a true companion, who'll listen when you talk.

 

When you're weak and faltering, under life's tremendous pressure

I pray a heart is sent to you, that's loving without measure.

When you've done the best you could, and you've no more to give

I pray you see the joy you've given, and helped another live.

 

Most of all I pray for you, many angels at your side

that walk before you and behind you, to be your unfailing guide.

Receive the strength of the eagle, as it circles from above-

hear the song that it sings...of peace, unity and love.

 

Sincerely, Godwin H. Barton

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Village Dock. My home: Kincolith, BC

 

Hope: Such a powerful four letter word. Something, in spite of the "seemingly" lack of progress before me has me seeing deeply into the realms of the supernatural and the spiritual and seeing things as they really, really are: progress- great, great progress.

 

I remember before I was published in the "Chicken Soup for the Soul" books, I received a call from one of my nieces.  She said, "Uncle! Congratulations! You've been published in Chicken Soup for the Soul!"  I'm like, "Aaaah, okay. Thank you? But I don't think so..."  She was totally insistent, very adamant, "No! You have been! I've seen the book and read the story! It's yours- and it even had your name on it!"  "Uuuummmm...okay. Thanks again? But I don't think so."  She continued, "I was so proud- this is my uncle, Godwin!"  I told her, "I think you might be mistaken or it's possibly another Godwin Barton- I've never submitted anything for publication to Chicken Soup for the Soul."  She then told me that she would look for the book again, buy it, and show me the story. She searched, she couldn't find the book nor was there any story.  Needless to say we both thought this was a very, very strange occurrence.

 

I took this as a sign, "Well maybe, just maybe, one day I'll be published in the Chicken Soup for the Soul books."

 

Some time later I decided to browse the Chicken Soup site.  I read through the many pages, reading stories and  story submission requirements.  There was a call out for stories for an edition called "Chicken Soup for the Recovering Soul."  Reflecting on the novel that I'd begun many years ago and on one particular chapter, I thought, "I have the perfect story for this..."  I took that chapter, read and re-read it, and did a few edits until I felt it was perfect and could be edited no more (I also had to get it down to 1200 words while maintaining the strength and integrity of the piece).  Upon the final edit and feeling it like I've never felt it before, I knew it was done.  My now ex-wife came and read the piece before I sent it.  She said, "Wow! That's powerful, and beautiful."  I said thanks, then sent it out.  As I submitted the piece I remember thinking, "Okay niece, your uncle is about to be published in Chicken Soup for the Soul- just as you had seen."

 

Within a few weeks the publishers got back to me and within five months "Chicken Soup for the Recovering Soul" was released, and I was in it.  "Godwin Barton: Touched by a Higher Power."  I guess God in the generosity of His Heart thought this wasn't enough so He placed it upon the editor's heart, "Let's contact Godwin one more time and see if he'll allow us to use a passage of his existing story as an inspirational quote for the soon to be released Chicken Soup for the Soul: Daily Inspirations."  A few months later, "Chicken Soup for the Soul: Daily Inspirations" was released and I was featured on page 30- there is a page for each day of the year.  The date, January 3oth.  When asked by the publisher why I chose this date I replied, "It's my sobriety date.  The day that I cleaned up my life- by the "Grace of God," drug and alcohol free."  They were pleased and gave me this date, specifically. 

 

Prophetic events and happenings? I totally believe in these; for these have followed me all the days of my life. 

 

A man turned to me in McDonald's about a year ago.  He was standing at the counter waiting on his order.  He turned to me and said very excitedly, "Hey! How are you?!" "I'm fine, thank you...and how are you?" He replied with a smile that lit the entire room and with so much happiness and joy, then said, "I'm fine!" He stared at me for a few more seconds before saying quite loudly, "You're famous!"  I'm like, "Aaaaaah....okay, I'm famous? I don't think so."  He said, "No! You are! You're very famous! I was reading about you in a magazine the other day. It was quite an interesting article about you and it had pictures of you!" I'm like, "Noooo.  I've never been interviewed by any magazine and I'm definitely not aware of any pictures taken of me for any magazine."  He said, "It was you! It's still fresh in my mind. You look just like you do in the pictures!"  Thoughts of my Chicken Soup experience began to echo in my soul. I then thought, "Okay, this guy says I'm famous- then I'm famous."  Still smiling ear to ear and extremely happy to meet me he said again, "You're famous!" I looked at him and smiled, then said, "Okay...I'm famous." I asked him his name, formally introduced myself, shook his hand and he left.  I walked out of McDonald's and said in my heart, "Okay God. You say that I'm famous...then I'm famous."  I've never seen this man again.

 

Prophetic happenings? God has dealt this way with me all of my life- in visions, dreams, happenings, and events.

 

Still, a few weeks later I was doing a presentation to a grade seven class at an elementary school.  One of the kids shouted respectfully, "Godwin! I was reading an article about you in a magazine recently. They also had a lot of very nice pictures of you."  I looked at him and smiled, "Thank you.  I agree and accept that, but I've haven't been featured in any magazines to date." Like the others before, he was one hundred percent certain it was me.

 

When things don't appear to be moving before me; I look into the realms of the supernatural and the spiritual.  There are always great and mighty things happening there.

 

I don't aspire to be famous- I just long to share beauty, honor, strength, and hope with the world.

 

I hope you are well and that everyone dearest to you is in good health. 

 

Sincerely,

 

Godwin.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Poetry And Roses

 

There are roses of yellow

pink, white, and red;

Sometimes a mixture of colors

so beautifully bred.

 

Accentuated by lovely

radiant leaves of green;

have even a protector-

in thorns to be seen.

 

A language of eloquence

is what they speak;

when you can't find the words

and your spirit is weak.

 

Of beauty, truth, and honor

and great humility too;

speaking the "Language of Love,"

is what a rose will do.

 

If all that burns within you

is of passion and desire;

its fiery red petals

are symbolic of this fire.

 

In insatiable want

and the inferno won't heed;

the powerful red rose

is what you will need.

 

Standing alone

or in a beautiful bouquet;

roses carry such power

in all that they say.

 

Forgive me if it seems

that I am out of line;

here's a beautiful red rose:

"To your heart- from mine."

 

Sincerely, Godwin H. Barton

 

Photo: breemiyukifelling.buzznet.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

Native American Heritage Month 2012

Send by email

For Native American Heritage Month 2012, the Maynard Institute for Journalism Education website celebrates 30 individuals.

The lives of these Americans are worthy of celebration and further study, which our short profiles hope to encourage. The women and men included are writers, editors, journalists, publishers, trailblazers and change makers. They remind us of the rich contributions Native Americans make and have made in the world of words.

This is by no means a definitive or exhaustive listing. It’s a starting point for learning, comment & discussion during Native American Heritage Month, when our nation pays a little more attention to issues of diversity. Be heard. Tell us what you think and what we can learn by sending a message to features@mije.org

Godwin Barton

Send by email
Godwin Barton
Saturday, November 3, 2012

 

Godwin H. Barton, First Nations, is originally from Kincolith, a community in Northwestern British Columbia, Canada. A writer of poetry and prose, Godwin has published an inspirational story "Touched by a Higher Power" in the much acclaimed "Chicken Soup for the Soul" series. His poem, "An Eagle Powerfully in Flight" was published in the anthology "Island Skies," Canada. Poems, such as "Today I Caught Diamonds" and "Inside of Me" are inspirational lines that for Godwin balance the craft of writing with the inner emotions and feelings. Godwin has also had the honor of delivering the opening blessing, by way of poetry, at “World Poetry Gala Events” hosted by the Vancouver Public Library.  As well as being a passionate and devoted poet, he has also been referred to as a “Master Storyteller.”

Source: 
RPM.fm - Revolutions Per Minute: Indigenous Music Culture - Godwin Barton

My Great Friend's new grandchild (six weeks): She's absolutely adorable!

 

I have a family who have been a great and significant part of my life for the past thirty years.  The mother, a woman of great integrity, strength, beauty, humility, and grace- and a huge pillar of love and support not only to her children and grandchildren, but to me also- has been the greatest example of unconditional love and acceptance in many of our lives and continues to be so.  Having now lived a life of sobriety herself for the past thirty-seven years, she continues to be a beacon of hope and inspiration to everyone that comes into her path.  She's one of those people that, when she walks into a room, the entire room lights up and everyone is irresistibly drawn to her.  Everyone just has to be near her...it's her aura, her persona, her light, and her life.  Perhaps, when we became partners in October 1983, two months after we met- this is what drew me to her most.  Her beauty, her life; her happiness, her joy.  Her exuberance.  She just had this way of making everyone feel comfortable and welcomed.  She had this way of making you feel like you were the most special person in the world.  She was like magic- and in the words of a song- a breath of spring to chase the blues away.  She just impacted you, beautifully; and everyone literally, fell in love with her.

 

We had enrolled in an educational program which had about thirty participants, and, although our instructors, professors, came from UBC, the first two years of our training was done at an off campus field center in Chilliwack, BC.  It was one of those older, younger relationships: she was nineteen years older than me, but she sure didn't look it!  Sobriety, as the bible says, "I will satisfy thy mouth with good things and restore thy youth unto thee as the eagle's," has this way of taking years off one's looks, and making them look incredibly younger, and adds years to their life.

 

Our sobriety has not come in our own strength or anything that we have done- it is all a gift from God.  She reminded me constantly in my early years of sobriety: "Always remember, by the Grace of God, go I."  Yes, when achieving sobriety and learning to live one day at a time, we had to fight major battles at times, mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually- especially when dealing with the unresolved sorrow, grief, pain, loss, hurt, and abandonment.  We had to learn that it was okay to be loved- and to allow people to love us.  We had to learn that we weren't bad people.  We had to learn that there was a true, heart-felt, unconditional love that existed.  This love wasn't manipulative, self-seeking, or hurtful.  It was not deceptive or deceiving.  It did not operate for personal gain.  When it comes right down to it, having learned many priceless lessons in this road to sobriety and wellness, the youth achieved is because of the inner peace found through the courage to get well, and to face one's inner demons; learning to let go and to let God.  Learning to love, heal, and to forgive.  Going back to my lady, her age didn't matter because I wanted her- and as far as that goes- age is just a number: it is the state of the heart, and strength of the spirit that matters most.  The things which are internal.  More than this, I wanted what she had.  She had life- vibrant life! And energy...lots of it!  I had seen the magnificence of her heart and the beauty of her spirit.  She glowed, and everyone wanted her.  She had sobriety, at this particular point in time- seven years. When I won her, the hearts of a few men were broken- the hearts of other younger men and especially men her own age who really tried for her- professors and instructors.  I came gently to her side, befriended her, smiled at her, made great conversation (flirted!), and won her.  It had a lot to do too, with that first kiss at a party that many of us were at.  In the morning, I tried to leave- but she wouldn't let me without kissing her one more time.  Being sometimes study buddies helped a lot too, as we got to know each other more personally and intimately.  Not to mention she thought too, that I was incredibly good looking, handsome, articulate, intelligent- and like her, fun to be around (Ahem! I say this all very humbly for I am very grateful for the Father's Grace toward me in the talents, gifts, and abilities that he has blessed me with).  Our relationship lasted for thirteen years.  We parted in April of 1995.  Today, we remain great, great friends.

 

I feel as I've recounted the path to sobriety and the great example that this great woman set, how it came about- it is largely because of the "Power of Love."  Love in its purest form: unconditional, graceful, and accepting.  Which brings me back to the picture of the baby.  Here is another amazing story of the "Power of Love."

 

You know how babies can cry, especially new born babies.  Well, the one above is no different.  You know too, how they can cry incessantly and sometimes scream at the top of their pretty little lungs.  Screaming their little heads off: you've fed them, you've changed their diaper, you've cuddled and cradled them, you've burped them- but still, there's no comfort.  You rock them, you sing to them; they cry harder, scream louder, and cry longer.  You walk with them, speaking to them with soft, loving, and gentle words.  Their beautiful little faces turning beat red with the force of their cry.  Their little hands and feet kicking, non-stop.  They scream at the top of their pretty little lungs fully announcing to the world that they have arrived and that they are here to stay.  They just won't stop crying...(Oh Father! I am soooo ready for fatherhood!  Please, send me my wife- the mother to be of my child, this child that I want soooo badly!).

 

Then the older grand-daughter, holding the baby with the agonizing, gut-wrenching cry, says, "Papa, watch this."  She reaches for her iphone and plays Jennifer Rush's, "The Power of Love."  She places the phone close to the baby's ear.  As if by magic, pure magic...the baby's eyes widen, in awe, as she stares into space as if she is hearing, or seeing an angel, or witnessing the most beautiful thing on earth.  Peace and tranquility over take her.  In a few seconds her excessive cry turns to a slight whimper.  In a minute, she is silent.  Her body totally still as if in absolute reverence to something great- to something beautiful.  In the tininess of her heart, her spirit, and her soul- she has felt the touch of something amazingly beautiful.  She has felt, in the expression of song and the beauty of voice: "The Power of Love."  Within a few minutes, she is sleeping.

 

Her mother, from the couch lets out a laugh of amazement and exclaims, "It works every time!"

 

Simone, and her..."The Power of Love."  God bless you baby, and keep you safe all the days of your life!

 

Sincerely,  Godwin. 

 

Trakai: Castle on the lake (Europe: A few miles from Vilnius, Lithuania)

 

Greetings Everyone!

 

I just had to come in today, this, the anniversary of my "Fourteenth Year of Sobriety," and share with you some of my "experience, strength, and hope!"  

Sobriety, and a life of "True Happiness is Possible!" Of course, it's not without its bumps in the road, deep dark valleys, many mountains to climb, endless tears to cry, excruciating moments of pain, still- experiences of abandonment, loneliness, and isolation; but, guess what?! It truly is a life worth living! In the end, you really do come forth like gold! Much stronger, much more pure, radiant, and able to win any battle no matter how great the war! You are on the winning team! You are victorious! You are a champion! You will make it! Any, and all things are possible! Your dreams will come true!

 

Here is a quick note that I sent out to my few hundred friends on facebook (still praying for the thousands and possibly, millions! No dream is too big to achieve!):

 

Greetings Everyone! I "Hope and Pray" that you are all well this fine, fine day. Me? Very, very well and extremely grateful. Today is my "14th. Year Sobriety Birthday," by the "Great Grace of God." I am soooo thankful! If ever you're wondering if it's a life worth living- yes it is! If ever you're wondering- does the fun stop? No, it doesn't! It just gets better, and, you remember it all! "Life really, really just begins and takes you on journeys and experiences beyond your greatest imaginations and expectations! It will take you beyond anything that you could have ever asked or thought!" It all begins with the first step, and: "One day at a time..."

 

*Sighs* Now, if only I could find true love, this is what I am searching for (Is it too much to ask? Hhhhmmmm.)

 

This Love of the Most Beautiful Kind

 

I've been praying for, and searching for-

the most beautiful love that I can find;

of eloquence and elegance-

it's of the purest kind.

 

It's of the greatest courage, and humility of heart

the greatest winds, rain, and storms, couldn't tear it apart.

When it walks the torturing flames, and glass beneath the feet

it's proven tested, tried, and true: it does not know defeat.

 

Its greatest strength is true intention, forgiveness, and honesty

there's nothing that it can not bear- its armor- integrity.

It rides a horse with flaming sword does valiantly in battle

it always gives the "Victory Shout!" there is no pointless babble.

 

It protects the heart at any length, giving in sacrifice

it will take the arrow and the sword- and pay the highest price.

It is not boastful, proud or rude, nor comes to those only- who deserve

but finds the deepest, darkened heart- and faithfully begins to serve.

 

When praying for, and searching for-

this love of the most beautiful kind;

graciously, and unexpectedly-

your heart...it will surely find!

 

From my heart to yours, and to my future love (who ever you are)...I wait patiently for you.

 

Sincerely, Godwin H. Barton

 

 

 

 

My Christmas Tree!

 

Greetings everyone!

 

Every year, even as a single person, I decorate and put up a Christmas tree.  Last year I was having a bit of a difficulty getting into the Christmas spirit.  After a brief visit with one of my principals, on a casual and friendship basis, she said, "Oh come on Godwin! It's Christmas! Everybody decorates on Christmas! You have to!" So, given that bit of inspiration and encouragement I went home and I decorated.

 

I'm reminded of a Christmas- if I remember correctly, it was the Christmas of 1988.  I was still in my addictions.  You know, still drinking and partying and partaking in the other things that go along with this type of lifestyle- and although I didn't give it a full heart of acknowledgement, living in a world of brokenness, heartache, and pain.  Given however, the appearance of stability in my life with work and looking after myself, no one knew the fullness of the brokenness and pain that I really lived in- the loneliness.  This which was becoming more real as I sat in the quiet, dark corners of my room- alone- with just a glass of rum and coke in hand and a narcotic to induce a perceived sense happiness.  When people spoke of me they spoke very highly and always had nothing but great things to say about me.  Sometimes I'd just stare at them and the people they were introducing me to, and thought, "If only you knew the truth..." (Thinking on my loneliest moments and the amount of time I spent alone...and the many nights I was beginning to cry myself to sleep- and I never really understood why, or what was happening.)  Going into this particular Christmas Season I thought I'd try something different.  Come my Christmas break- for the one week before Christmas, I would not touch a drop of alcohol nor take any drugs of any kind.  For the week, I would stay clean and sober.

 

I was searching for the experience of the old "Dick and Jane" books that we used to read in elementary school many, many years ago.  The big beautiful house with the white picket fence, who, with the family at Christmas was a time always filled with merriment, happiness, and joy.  Who, when they decorated and put up their tree, did so on Christmas Eve and Christmas was always a magical time of the year.  This is how I remember the Dick and Jane books: family, love, togetherness, and magic.  I thought as I told my girlfriend Phyllis, "I just want to see if there really is such a thing as Christmas magic; therefore, I have decided not to drink or drug this Christmas holiday.  I want to keep myself clean and open to anything that might possibly happen."  I further said to her, "Do you remember those old Dick and Jane books we used to read in elementary school, come Christmas, it was always a magical time of the year?  Well, I'm not going to decorate until Christmas Eve...and see, if it really is magical."   

 

Many hours later the decorations were all up.  Phyllis' daughter had left to meet some friends.  Phyllis and I sat on my couch and stared at the fully decorated ceiling.  It was beautiful, vibrant, and alive.  The red, gold, green, and silver garlands accentuated by hanging glass globes at the end, emanated the beauty of Christmas.  More glass globes, shiny, and of the most vibrant of colors, in various sizes were bundled together and hung between the sparkling garlands at various lengths.  There were balloons, also in bundles and the brightest of colors, perfect in size to give the feel of a party flare.  It was beautiful.  It was late and Phyllis was tired.  Rather than make the trip back to her home she decided to spend the night.  It was about eleven o' clock.  She invited me to bed but I declined, as I just wanted to sit and admire the beautiful Christmas decorations.  Christmas music was playing low on my stereo, with a panel that lit up with red and green lights and added to the beauty of what was turning into an amazing Christmas Eve.

 

Phyllis was asleep in the bedroom, and in the peace of the night- I had fallen asleep on the couch- face down, laying on my stomach.  There was no one else around; no one else in the apartment.  It might have been around 1:00 am.

 

Suddenly, as if a huge, warm, droplet of sunshine had fallen on me- I was awakened to a very soft, beautiful, touch...on the top of my head.  It was real; it was tangible: it was a physical touch.

 

My eyes opened and I can not even begin to describe the beauty and the warmth that began to flow through me.  From the top of my head and as it flowed very tangibly and noticeably through my body- it sat me up.  It flowed it seemed a section at a time as I could physically track its path through me- through each body part.  As it flowed it became warmer and warmer.  A beauty that at one time I could have only imagined.  It seemed to melt me as it flowed; my tears began to flow.  I began to cry.  Not a sorrowful, hurtful cry, or that of self-pity.  It was a cry, a gentle weeping of something extraordinarily beautiful: a cry that I'd finally found something that I had been searching for all of my life: Magic.  As the experience continued I heard so loud and clear in my spirit, "It is the time..." Repeatedly, in my spirit, the phrase echoed, "It is the time..."

 

Phyllis awoke to my soft, gentle cry, and came out from the bedroom.  She knelt before me, and holding my hands asked me if I was okay.  I said, "I'm fine.  I just had the most incredible experience ever.  I can't fully describe it in all its beauty, but it's amazing."  I told her in full detail about the touch, the warmth, the beauty and the voice.  Through tears, and already in the great expectation of life, hope, and joy- I told her, "And in my spirit, I keep hearing the phrase: it is the time."

 

She smiled at me that amazingly beautiful smile that if you could see an angel smile- you'd think she was an angel; her eyes too matched the beauty of her smile with a slight sparkle that exists in the eyes of angels.  In her soft, compassionate and loving voice, she said, "He knows you're ready.  God knows you're ready," and left it at that.

 

Thus marked the beginning of my "Incredible journey toward wellness; my incredible journey toward healing; my incredible journey toward love."

 

Christmas Magic?  It does exist; I found it...

 

Sincerely, Godwin H. Barton

RSS feed

"Your Presence" on iTunes

Buy New Single on CD Baby