Happy New Year...

As one year fades from view and the next one enters in, the old adage comes to mind once again:

Wherever you go, there you are.

Moving the numbers or the location or the title doesn't change who you are. 

If you are comfortable with yourself, then wherever you find yourself will be bearable,

no matter how awful the place itself may be. 

If you are a mess and wish to escape all that is you,

then noplace you go will be satisfactory, no matter how lovely. 

 Find what makes you truly happy. 

Not numb. 

Not blinded by the false glamour of temporary pleasures.

Not so fuzzy-headed that you forget.

But truly happy.

True happiness still makes your heart sing when you recall it in the future. 

What makes you feel great about who you are and what you do?

The brightness of the future depends upon that.

Find it.  Embrace it.  Live it!

Never miss an opportunity to show kindness.

Never take an opportunity to show cruelty.

Who you are is determined by what you think, feel, say and do.

Radiate the beauty within...

A shocking amount of laundry awaits me, but i am irresistably redirected and pulled in by the poetry that yearns to escape.  For there is music within each of us, painting our hearts in the colours of our souls, the reflections of who we are.  Some of us display this visibly, through god-given talents that others flock to.  Others of us just quietly exist, and it takes one who seeks to discover their true beauty. 


Public or not, the music and colour and essence of who you are swirl within you, and those who come close enough can explore in awe of the wonder that is you. 


Dare to be beautiful. Not in outward showiness, but within yourself; it will shine through the barriers you place around yourself, seeping through the walls and lighting up the corners.  Radiate!

Sunshine through the Window

While the world reels in icebound shock from the trauma that enfolds it, a quiet corner of warmth offers refuge and light.  The sun filters in weakly from distant skies, but fighting the winter cold, illuminates the room and chases the chill away.  There is still horror and grief and pain beyond these walls, but for now, come enjoy the peace and brightness that dwell here.  All will end well.  Who knows when that will be, but does it matter?  

Drained of energy and the ability to cope with the mess and chaos of life, this feels like an excellent night to go to bed early with The Safehouse and forget the world.  I can hold the book and let the recordings read it to me while the insanity of the world carries on obliviously. Leave me alone, life.

It can't all be sunshine and poetry.

It's been a sucky month.  Yeah, pretty much the whole thing.  I'm tired.   I'm drained.  I can't find my way to the forest, or to Brego, or to any of my happy retreats.  The places i go to when i can steal a free moment to think and wander and escape... are lost to me.

Every single day takes so much out of me that i feel like an empty shell, a hollow shadow of what once was.  It isn't true, of course.  The inside is alive and swirling with turbulent thoughts and feelings and dreams and fears that never slow down, never stop, always rush and whirl and shift.  The shell is just the semblance of normalcy i try to show to others, for no one really wants inside.  No one can handle it.  It's dizzying, tiring, sickening to be ensconced in such tribulation.  Trust me; i understand.

Go ahead.  Really.  Please!  Just move on from the spectacle and don't feel bad for not being able to take it. I've got quite enough to deal with on my own at the moment, and i'm too weary to deal with comforting you for not being able to handle me.  Just let me hide alone in the dark until it gets better.

I'll be okay.

Balm for a wounded heart...

The sweet tenderness, expressed unintentionally through genuine heartfelt affection, which shines on the faces of those who love me, has the power to boost me from the depths of sorrow.  When those around you offer stereotypical concern, it is to no avail.  But when someone who isn't trying to is caught with a sincere look of adoration on their precious face, the affect is soothingly healing.  Bless you, my friend.  <3

Sunrise

The near-black horizon was disturbed by a silent burst of colour, which spread as the light grew.  What had been the deepest blue became soft and light as the sun bravely slid up from its slumber and shone on the cool world.  A new day is born!

The newness of the day is overlooked by the regular rituals that occupy our time.  But despite the trauma and trials and chaos that continue in oblivion, a fresh new day explodes in humble beauty, and the breeze tousles our hair and nips at our faces.

Then comes the message, as clear as a whisper in my ear, that it is my duty to emulate the brave sun: "Go forth and shine!"

If you're lucky, this will not make sense.

The cool, soft air whispers quietly, not noticing that this is usually the time of day when the heat of the afternoon sun grows rank and stale.  The breeze flutters playfully and ever-so-gently, caressing the weary world with its breath.

I wonder if anyone else has noticed.  Life rushes on, with meetings and deadlines and obligations, but the beauty of a calm October day is as oblivious to this as the people are to it. 

People.  Too much cruelty, too much evil, too much stupidity.  Too little trust, too little honesty, too little virtue.  Too many annoying people. 

Sleep beckons, but it must be as confused as the day itself, for it is not even dinnertime yet.  And my nights have been peppered with strips of wakeful overactivity of my mind, as it hurls along its many lonely paths. 

If it keeps getting so hopelessly lost, why am i still here?

It's in the Air

As summer waves its fond farewell, as we are teased by this cool, overcast, fresh day, the promise of autumn dances in the air.  It beckons with it's lure of crisp-scented breezes and snuggly sweaters.  Of holidays and warm socks.  The disappearance of mosquitoes is a delight to anticipate with relish.  No more sweltering, searing heat, the bright sun obnoxious in its vanity.  The autumn sun is gentler and humbler, ready to share the freshened sky with a few clouds now and then.  The prospect of adventure is not a false front, dirtied with beer cans and morons.  Fall adventure is real, the adventure of living!  Of breathing in the new air and feeling invigorated by the unmistakable fragrance of the leaves and distant fires.  No lies are harbored here!  Autumn delivers what it promises, and does not taunt or insult those who do not fall in love with it.  It merely kisses them on the rosy cheeks as they walk by, smiling with the assurance that it blesses them nonetheless. 

Tomorrow may feel like summer again.  The relentless sun may return with it's gaudy brightness, the unforgiving heat like a giant oven to melt and sicken those who dwell within. 

But today is wonderful.

Wherever they send me, I am not there.

The forest whispers through my veins, like the quiet breeze that brushes the oaks and pines and makes the grasses and wildflowers sway.  It lights up the lonely corners of my heart, like the millions of stars that glow valiantly above the trees.  It hides in the shadows like the lush ferns that thrive beside the streams.  Its song flows through me, unheard by the concrete and the sculpted world around me.  The melted mess of modern society surrounds me, but i am only half here.  I am deep within my forest.

A Kiss from the Wind

When life seems suffocating, keep breathing.  When it all feels hopeless, keep dreaming.  When your strength is gone, keep going.  You are strong.  You are beautiful.  You are magic.  Not magical; you are magic itself.  Go!  Live!  Be amazing.

Feel the moonlight in your heart and keep a smile on your face.  You have powers others cannot see. --Brego

A Saturday

The day dawned, not with hope and promise, but with annoyance and intrusion.  And far earlier than a Saturday should.  This week has been trying, to say the least, and i seek refuge and solitude to recover in.  A dark, cool, quiet place where there is no hustle or hurry or commotion or explosion of activity and obligation!

 I long for the soft, familar corridors of the safehouse, where everything is full of love and hope.  And even the trials are uplifting in a sense, for they draw friends and loved ones together, strengthen the bonds between them, and give the opportunity to shine forth one's natural giftedness.  The peacful night is lit by the gentle moonlight and sweet breezes, the playful day is painted with the lush, healing green of the flora of the forest and the garden by the house.  Work is enjoyable, friends are family, and everything is just right.  Not perfect.  But right.

The sweltering sun melts my resolve, weakens my breath (literally, in this case!), and burns my hopes.  The cool air teases and taunts, then slips away to places unknown.  Day after day is invaded by too many people, too many duties, too many interactions.  They complicate their own lives, and mine too, by their stupid choices.  In so many, many ways.  A victim of others' crimes, disorder, malcontent, type-A syndromes, idiocy, ignorance, and lack of consideration, i am affected greatly and thus punished.  For existing in their world and not fitting in.  For being different.  For having my own, unique (!) motives and intentions.  The shell crumbles around me, not by my own choice, but by their decisions, and i am thrust into their sweltering, blinding, tiring world. 

Bug off, world.  I don't want to be like you.  Don't take it personally.  Okay, do.  Take care, I'll see you around.  Just not too soon.

Why is it that...

my favorite places to be are imaginary?  Sometimes this is a blessing; imaginary places can go with you anywhere and be accessed anytime, so long as you can steal a moment to think.  But sometimes the real world seems so empty, and you long for something tangible, and that's when it hurts. But still, my favorite places are beautiful.

"I just do my own thing and try not to bother anybody." --Adam Young (Owl City)

Yeah, but then "anybody" barges in and bothers me.  Or somebody.  Or something.  There's always some force pulling at me, shining some harsh, blinding spotlight into my dark corners and blaring loud announcements into my quiet moments.  They drag me out when i want to stay in, lock me in when i want to break out, and make me uncomfortable when all i want is to do my own thing and not bother anybody.  Dragged out of inconspicuosity and thrown onto a stage!  Can't i just keep to myself?  The songs in my head are disconnected and incomplete, like a radio that's stuck in between two stations and is trying to play two completely different songs simultaneously, but all that happens is chaos and clatter and static.  Yeah.  So change the station.  You can't; it's stuck.  So turn it off.  Nope, there is no "off" button.  Thoughts and music and poetry and adventures and duties swirl like a hurricane, smashing into each other, cutting each other off in midsentence.  Then there's the background noise! Chatter, whining, screaming, scratching at my nerves! 

So many obligations come hurtling at me, and i am not allowed to swat at them.  They are worthwhile and reasonable.  The sick and elderly deserve to be visited!  The laundry must be washed, the house kept in some sort of order, the shopping done.  Finances managed.  Speeches given!  Sunday school lessons taught, lovingly, with the Spirit.  Appointments must be kept, friends contacted, questions answered.  Bake cookies.  Plan dinner.  Solve the world's problems. 

Every obligation i neglect bites at me like the mosquitoes that sneak into my room at night.  They suck the life-blood out of me, just enough to torment me in my sleep and cause discomfort during the day.  And neglected duties should cause discomfort.  Except that it can't shut the clatter off, can't refill my empty stores, can't straighten out the swirling, biting maelstrom!

I love Brego.  Just sayin'.

I need a GPS

The cool forest with its shade and greenery and clean smells... is so far from me!  The heat and rush and chaos of daily life is miring me down.  Hm.. "mire".. i just used that word the other day, and it isn't a common one.  Must be a theme.  It would be such a relief to feel UNmired, to feel free!  The weight on my shoulders is so heavy. 

Fighting, arguing, discontent, disrespect, disobedience, unkindness!  These things do not sit well with me.  My personality rejects them.  When they are forced on me, it is a cause of great stress, even if i am not directly involved.  I can't focus, i can't escape, and more and more pressures are laid on me while i struggle with the scraping of nails on my soul.

If only i could find my way to the peaceful forest, i could heal. 
#notgonnahappen

On Mount Meridian, there are never neighbors who blast bad music at bedtime. Ever. Sigh.

Moonrise

The moon is soon to rise, soon after the weary sun sets. Just as Mount Meridian is home to the Safehouse, a place of refuge and friendship and peace, this page is my refuge. I am yet unsure of how it will progress, whether it will be a place for poetry or a place to rant and stomp and swear about the injustices of life, or if it will be neglected and overgrown and full of wildflowers and ferns. Time will tell. Until then, a beautiful evening is upon me, and i welcome it gladly. Welcome to Mount Meridian.