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The universe is filled with beauty and fury. Amazing strength and amazing grace. Energy pulsating, forces of nature at play. Endless possibilities.
Our path is shrouded by uncertainty, heartbeats echoing breathless words. Hopeful, questioning, living in suspense, caught by surprise. Human nature guided by conscience. Morality at play.
Amazing that we exist, the life force coursing through our veins. Amazing that we die, denial on trial. And then a stroke of madness, a stroke of genius, a timeless moment of…..
The guiding force in my life has been a need for understanding, making sense of the unexplainable. Years spent searching, struggling, agonizing, my demons put to bed, tethered by the written word. It’s time to move on.
So I turn now to enjoyment, my intention pivoting toward happiness, laughter, keen satisfaction. It seems that I will have to let go, say yes more often, be charitable with myself and others.
I have more questions than answers. There’s no guiding force…..
I find myself at a loss for words. It seems that we are oblivious to the obvious, unable to agree to disagree, civility deferring to hostility. Friends unable to accept their differences. Enflaming our melting pot to the boiling point.
I feel an undercurrent, something beneath the surface wearing away. It’s a vague feeling, not clearly understood, underlying meaning adrift. Our moral compass unable to guide us through rapidly changing times. How did we get here? Are we wearing out…..
My sabbatical began with no expectations and was filled with unexpected events. Confidence challenged, routine uprooted. Here’s what happened…
tectonic plates diverging at glacial speed, continents dividing, the earth steaming raindrops coalescing, pooling, flooding, welling into teardrops
electric currents disconnecting, wires crossing, reconnecting now writing upstairs, reshaping the downstairs, the foundation untouched
no longer on my own, working together on our own redefining success, reimagining life
traveling more, finding comfort in communities a little less hurried, a little less worried
…..
Starting out on this week’s story, I found threads from other stories appearing, tempering the newness. Concerned that the stories may become labored rather than a labor of love, I feel the need to take a step back, reevaluate, rejuvenate.
Is this the right time to stop? I’d rather stop too soon than too late.
So I will be taking a break. A period of rest, reading what I have written, searching for the way forward. A Sabbath.
Thank you…..
It’s not my turn to talk I just want to walk and walk And not turn back to anything And turn my back on everything.
Talking heads spin their views, talking over one another, talking past one another. Pundits screaming, violence streaming. Rumor, slander, idle chatter. Talking in circles. Noise.
It’s my turn to talk I’m not allowed to walk Heart aflutter Heart of butter.
Talking in a circle, nowhere to hide, facing each other, facing…..
It’s an experience best described by what it’s not.
I’m different from everybody. I’m no different than anybody.
It’s like something beyond space, a place before time.
I’m not like anybody else. I’m like everybody else.
It’s like an emptiness without soul, beyond thought, more than I can handle.
I don’t like myself. I don’t like anybody else.
It’s like a place beyond awareness, a fan of warmth spreading out.
I like myself. I like people like myself.
It’s the…..
I’m a numbers guy. Growing up, I loved everything about them. Added them in my head, memorized baseball statistics. A number had a constant quality, something you could count on. Complete unto itself, unambiguous.
Many of us have a favorite number and maybe a feared number. My favorite number is 13.
According to Word Press, numbers don’t count as words.
Numbers have their own language, expressing what words can not describe. Odd and even, real and imaginary, musical and poetic……
It’s been a year since I started blogging, conceived as an effort to translate my poetry. That was the extent of my plan. Initially every other week, I reached a turning point after six months, winding my way into 100 word stories. Sort of like a core dump. Trusting in the process.
I’m about halfway done. So what I have learned? Inspiration comes from many directions. Look around, notice what’s going on. Have a point of view. Interlace the mundane…..
I’m color blind. Initially diagnosed as red-green color blind at an early age, gradually I came to learn that I have a related, less severe case of purple-blue color blindness. And those challenges bleed into other shades.
I imagine we all see color differently.
I can see colors. No problem with traffic lights, red and green look different. Maybe they don’t look like the red and green that others see. It’s when red and green dots are close together…..
