Wednesday, June 28, 2017

Morning Quanta

Some choice advice that I have read recently is to speak of joys rather than sorrows. In this, it is thought that one will train their mind to see the good things in all situations rather than finding the problems.

I enjoy the quiet times in the morning when the world has not yet awake. It is pregnant with possibility. It is here when the days are made and the paths are formed. It is here we build our mental and emotional fortitude in order progress through the day.

There are none to oppose your thoughts and visions.

There are none to spread ill will and evil.

There are none to add their manipulations and power.

It is only me and my potential. It is a quantum-level event that has both been created and not created yet. It is where I can feel the presence of my soul and I can hear it clearly.

Tuesday, June 27, 2017

Fits of Lucidity

For the longest time, I fancied myself as a writer. I have bouts of creativity in between crisis points. I don’t see myself as a writer any longer. I see myself waiting for the inevitable end so I can either be at peace or start over.

This is a morbid and dark view, I know. I’m working my way through it. So many of the last years I’ve lived seem that I’ve been in chrysalis awaiting the metamorphosis that should have been done already. I wonder what it will take for me to finally crawl out of the cocoon.

The anxiety I’m feeling means that I’m not living in the moment. I recognize this. I’m trying to create the future, but I’m doing it in the wrong way. I’m worrying instead of building. I’m simply placated by the worry as it whispers sweetly to me to stand still.

I honestly don’t know what path I’m on anymore or if I’m even walking. What I do know is that I’m tired of being tired. I’m tired of the anxiety and the depression. I’m tired of fits of lucidity whilst traveling in a constant fog.

Wednesday, June 21, 2017

Suffering is Optional

It is balls-hot where I live.

Today the walk was in 110°F blasting heat. I’m thankful that it is only about 10 minutes from the bus stop to my home. I’m thankful that it is pretty much a straight shot from my work where I pick up the bus in the afternoon to where I get off to walk home.

The reason I walk home in the afternoon is that my car will not turn over. The reason that I did not take the car to the mechanic is that I had a $2300 plumbing bill to replace a clogged p-trap that is in connection to the waste water line that goes out to the street. I also had a $2900 hospital stay for pneumonia in March. Most recently, I’ve got a $750 bill to take my cat to the vet to have two teeth extracted. In January, I had to make an unexpected trip to Albuquerque that cost about $1200.

This appears to be the Year of Price.

It also appears to be the Year of Humility.

Possibly the Year of Endurance.

Whatever the case, I am grateful that I have the ability to take the 10 minute walk so I can keep paying off the bills at an accelerated rate. There are other benefits to my walking home from the bus stop. It’s about a half-mile course and it helps me keep moving.

At current, I’m a bit wiped when I get home because I’m grossly overweight and out of shape. Even in the cursed earth, there is a gleam of hope if I look. It takes a certain perspective, I admit.

I know that there are folks out there that have it worse than I do. My minor complaints pale in comparison. My objective right now is to be grateful for what I can do rather than piling up the reasons I’m suffering.

As it is said, pain will come but suffering is optional.

Tuesday, June 20, 2017

The Obstacles and the Path

It has been over two months since I’ve written anything substantial. I could list of the multitudinous mass of reasons why I didn’t. It wouldn’t matter. What does matter is that the itch to vent and create has been driving me mad whilst I was on hiatus.

I’ve been doing micropoetry and other short prompts on Twitter, but that only served to pass the time. I don’t want what I’ve been working for all of my life to be something that passed the time. It is not what I want for myself.

It is not how I want to be remembered. I don’t want to be the man who passed his time well. It will simply not do.

I’ve been on the cusp of manifestation for too long. I’ve been touching the envelope, being afraid to push through it. It is the same as dipping into a pool of cool water. It is shocking if one steps in slowly. The cold creeping up.

I need to build the wherewithal to jump.

This is where I practice. This is where I build the courage to dive into the chill of the water. This is where I recognize that there exists in me a talent that I have long known about but was afraid to truly embrace. This is where I try to move the bricks in the wall I’ve put up over the decades and see what was put away so long ago.

Visualizations, strings of words, thoughts both logical and transcendental, and most of all feelings have been put into this vault for far too long.

Here is where I will try to remember how to be human again.

Sunday, April 02, 2017

Sunday, March 26, 2017

Rapture

Original photography by clair0bscur
Here in the silent times, I remember the thoughts and words we share. I remember the lessons. I remember the hunts. I remember the soaring flights that we took. Johannes was not the only one who was taken into the fold of a wing. He was not the only one to experience the connection.

I too, was chosen.

Yes, mother, you were.

For us, it is not one over the other. It is us together. We are of one mind sharing the disparate bodies. We gain the experiences of one another for a grand collective to be shared further on down to the new generation. It is not just for you or I. It is for us all.

I too, am sharing.

Yes, mother, you are.

What we have is beyond intimacy. Our symbiosis has given each of us so much. Our decedents may one day understand what passes between us. It is beyond love. It is beyond care. It is beyond what could ever be explained in the mundane world. Our destinies are intertwined and will always be so.

I too, will be with you.

Yes, mother, you will.

Tuesday, March 21, 2017

Roots

Here I am.

Gathering strength to shoot roots down. Through the rocky ground. Through to the fertile soil underneath. Through to the source of energy and nutrients.

It is the ball of tendrils that slowly shift through it all that it begins. It is the model of regeneration. It is the metamorphosis of growth. It is the beginning of change. It is the personification of intent.

The movement is slow, yet deliberate. It could appear that there is no movement at all. It could appear that there is only stasis. That is not the case.

In the seat of it all, there is faith. Without it, there is no growth, there is no movement.

Movement is movement, no matter how small.

It is the nature of roots.