I remember when I’ve been in the throws of my Specter, and consumed with such hopelessness and misery I believed no one else endured. That depression demon who is currently being held at bay in his cage of Lexapro and Abilify, but can attack at random times with a sucker punch to the kidney, leaving me without the breath for life. It’s at those times that one person can change your life. They are there. You just have to find them, reach out to them, and hold onto them. They will be there. You mean the world to them.
If you’re wearing the other pair of shoes and know of someone who needs to be reached out to. Use this post as an excuse to do so. You may save someone’s life.
Sunsets, like childhood, are viewed with wonder not just because they are beautiful but because they are fleeting.” ― Richard Paul Evans, The Gift
Sunsets, like empires and memories of love long ago, fade slow; first brilliant, then warm, and finally passing to silk brocade on black velvet. How much more beautiful they are in memory when the busy moments of planning and passing through life have stilled. Continue reading “Sunsets and Memories”→
That is why I write – to try to turn sadness into longing, solitude into remembrance. ― Paulo Coelho, By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept
He sat silent at the table, his coffee hot and bitter. He looked up to collect his runaway thoughts then continued to read an old book. Around him life moved near light speed in tweets to Twitter. Facebook connected ten thousand souls to only ten distracted minds that milled around in half-dazed skulls. Next to him sat a woman. He knew in her day she was someone else’s love. Her hair was near solid gray, well dressed in blue, white, and spotless shoes. She read a book he once read, perhaps thirty years ago. Continue reading “Heroes of Annihilated Empires”→
Love is an untamed force. When we try to control it, it destroys us. When we try to imprison it, it enslaves us. When we try to understand it, it leaves us feeling lost and confused. ― Paulo Coelho
Love is an untamed force. Indeed. I’ve spent a lifetime trying to understand it and in the end realized that the torture of asking why, what if, and if only served to deepen the wounds of memories whose sharp rusted edges tear and bruise one’s heart and spirit each moment they live above the surface of that restive cauldron that never cools. I’ve realized that it’s the mind that eventually falters and in time the pitted patina of our youthful losses fade into a gray-blue surreal scene with black edges and dark contrasts. Peace comes when the mind hears and no longer recognizes the sound of that first anguished cry. Continue reading “LITTLE CREEK”→
Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. ― Louis de Bernières, Captain Corelli’s Mandolin
In a follow on to my side trip into aging gracefully, I made a few tweaks to this previous post to give a snapshot into the thoughts one has for a loved one as they grow old together and frailty begins to pull one away from the other.
The metaphor of life from a faded rose in my garden struck me one day as I watched it fade, almost over night. Memories of youth and life played like a song in my mind even though the words played hide and seek as I searched my mind to no avail to remember dates, names, and faces of those long gone. How our lives fade came to me all too clear in that moment through the lens when the rose came into focus. Continue reading “A Faded Rose”→
“We are travelers on a cosmic journey, stardust, swirling and dancing in the eddies and whirlpools of infinity. Life is eternal. We have stopped for a moment to encounter each other, to meet, to love, to share. This is a precious moment. It is a little parenthesis in eternity.” ― Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist
I promised myself long ago that my life would be a walk with eternity. I didn’t pray to be spared sickness, heartache or any dark moment life can bring. When those dark moments found me, I never prayed for the light, a cure, a way around. I prayed for strength to carry on. Continue reading “A Walk With Eternity”→
“In imagination she sailed over storied seas that wash the distant shining shores of faëry lands forlorn, where lost Atlantis and Elysium lie, with the evening star for pilot, to the land of Heart’s Desire. And she was richer in those dreams than in realities; for things seen pass away, but the things that are unseen are eternal.” ― L.M. Montgomery, Anne of the Island
“Follow your bliss and the universe will open doors for you where there were only walls.”
― Joseph Campbell
Juron felt safe in his castle. He was of noble stock, the ruler of his domain – a population of one soul complete with body. Juron and his two aether-friends lived a carefree life. They roamed about the castle of their own free will. Juron’s imagination and shadow played gleefully but never too far away from him. The freedom to choose where he would go and what room he would visit gave him a sense of the explorer’s wonder. Continue reading “Castle Walls”→
“Age is not a particularly interesting subject. Anyone can get old. All you have to do is live long enough.” ― Groucho Marx
Albert was eighty-eight years old today. He planned dinner with the boys to celebrate. Eighty-eight years. Not a small accomplishment by any means given the many challenges Albert had weathered in his life. He fought in the big war against the Nazis in Africa, Sicily, and up the boot of Italy until wounded. He spent two years in recovery, going from hospital to surgery and back again until it was all a blur. Continue reading “Upon Realizing I’m Old”→
When I was a child,
There was a mare;
She waited for me each day.
With her, I rode to far off lands,
And dreamed my life away.
As I grew, she stayed in place,
Her eyes straight forward, her mouth agape.
I no longer noticed her wild-eyed stare,
Neglected by my hectic pace.
Then, one day, I returned to her;
Sadness and wrinkles upon my face.
One last time, I hugged her neck,
And together we rode away. Continue reading “The Mare”→
I lived for the wind upon my face. Rain and sun cleansed me; But, the wind was my fate. No storm pushed me from its path. I stood steadfast and strong. In time, the work I lived to do, Nourished the soil and did no wrong. My toil was the measure of my worth, And all rejoiced in song. I turned to the wind and gave my life, My reward a productive earth. But, then I aged and skipped a beat, My body bent and worn. I’ll not die an untimely death, brought down by grueling pace, My value from me torn. I’ll stand erect, locked in my stance, And weather every storm. I shall simply live for the wind upon my face.