Go Into The Night By Your Guiding Light

In the dark recesses of the mind are the answers and confusions. The truths hidden in the darkest shadows where life struggles to shine, whereas the confusions have light cast upon them readily available to be brought forth as truth in disguise. Our truths have been buried by words and experiences throughout our lives. We tend to see the light on the easiest path to attain; by being agreeable and malleable to what others say, what others expect, and the consequences of how we handle situations because of these.

It is our job to be sure we see the real truths and not those disguises. To question what we know in the silent moments of the night; a time when it is just ourselves and the world is sleeping. Search… search for you, let the light of your soul show you the truths and quiet the ego.

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Sacred Spaces

I have an obsession of sorts for collecting pens and writing pads (I still call them tablets of the non- technological sort). I can get lost in time looking at journals, pens, writing tablets, and books. Pens are not much of an issue any longer as I have found the perfect one after years of searching. However, as I pass by and think to myself, “I need this” it goes home. No regard is given to responsible evaluation as to whether the purchase is necessary because I have to have it. It amuses me when I get home because I will find an intentional purpose for this new purchase and place it neatly among the others. It is not an obsession taking over my space or anything, just once in a while an object catches my attention as I pass by. Rarely do I find such an item during time spent purposely looking at them.

Being that my situation has caused me to significantly down-size I have ‘sacred spots’ now instead of a space designated to creating. These objects are nestled into bookcases, on a desk, and storage baskets in different areas of my home. Some are well used and others are blank waiting for the moment of purposeful inspiration. These spaces seem to be subconsciously placed strategically to be easily accessed and constantly seen from the most comfortable places in my rooms.

My Sacred Spots are modge podge areas of creative inspirations. My Spots nudge me without rhyme or reason to create; Journals, writing tablets, sketch pads, pens, pencils, crayons, paints, markers, and my camera with its accessories….all inspiring even though the outcomes and intents are different. Once one of my prizes catches my attention; I get comfortable, play some music, and let my mind wander, observe, listen, and open…

For now I have no niche in which I create– I just create!
My muse does not discriminate…
Words inspired by or for photographs, words with drawings, or just plain words!

Inspire, Open The Soul

INSPIRATIONAL QUOTES…

Quotes make me long to be the best I can,
They give me hope when life is chaotic,
They give my positive energy when I am overwhelmed.

My mind opens to possibilities –
I wander into thought,
Envision who I could become,
Feeling the hope of things to come.

They release the burdens from my heart,
Allowing the light to come forth from my soul,
While my mind finally hears the melodies offered in nature.

Even in the briefest moment —
I connect to the essence of life as it should be;
Grateful in its presence…
If only it lasted forever, what a better person I would be.

I Am — Ever Changes

No matter what I or anyone else thinks of the person I was or I am…

“I” am is what brought me the best things in my life. Anyone different than the “I” at each moment would mean I would not have those things…

  • not my children
  • not my husband
  • not the love
  • not my puppies
  • not my friends

It is all because of the person I was at each of those moments. Good or bad, it was me and I am grateful for it all. I can honestly say I would not change what was. It would result in a loss of all I have!!

Where Resides My Heart

It is after conversation I begin to question my moral beliefs and how open my mind can be. The only debate I wish for during this discovery is my own moral compass. Not meaning to be cold or unopen to discussion, but I am only interested in discovering my own deep seated morals at this time. I do not care or wish to consider what others may think as the journey in mine and personal.

I ponder where the heart of mankind resides. It is referenced daily as if it is superficial and simplistic. I do not speak of the organ which pumps blood throughout our bodies, but the more elusive intangible heart – the soul of what any of us are. It is in this place where feelings of extreme emotion like joy, sorrow, love, and dislike reside. From here these emotions are projected the world in which each person lives. We learn and institute our core beliefs from associations with people and experiences in our life from an early age onward. I do not believe any are permanent and they can become outdated by who we have grown to become over time. This is why I would like to look at myself; adjust, adapt, or remain steadfast in moral compass.

Society evolves accepting or rejecting what becomes new knowledge and so must I. The conversation I refer to was of a sexual nature and may not be suitable for those younger or those not ready to venture this road. I have accepted a long time ago that sexual preference is not as black and white as an older generation or religion might believe. It is a matter of love and should not be taken lightly by anyone or any sex. It comes with commitment to working at it and can be a precious gift not everyone has the pleasure of receiving. On this subject I am comfortable with my moral beliefs, but the conversation I had delved into a world I have little knowledge about and no experience in. So listening and researching were my first steps in trying to understand it.

I question what I don’t understand and I asked lots of questions. Parts of the conversation into sexual practices I can say at this time I cannot and do not want to understand because I am uncomfortable enough to continue with my moral compass believing they are more negative than positive. These I do not accept as right nor healthy as my mind sees them. I do however wish to understand what is becoming a norm in society- having many partners without any expectations to commit to each other. Even to the point of having sex with a number of different partners just for the pure pleasure received. Herein lays my debate with my moral compass. Are my beliefs outdated or modern enough for me?

Searching in an attempt to find ‘the one’ resulting in having numerous partners over time is not my chosen path, but I can at least say I understand the theory. That is a journey for each individual and the affairs of their heart. The other side of the coin, where it is simply for gratification seems to be ego based to me. I am not wired to seek personal satisfaction without concern for someone involved in the play. In fairness this is the point where I listened without questions and tried to open my mind to the thoughts the other person.

As it was explained to me, it is an activity void of connection because the two parties have sought this and are in agreement. It is based on consenting adults looking for a good time. Seems innocent enough! Well, at least until I thought about it some more. To me, it is primal in nature and fear based. If this is the only interaction you choose I must wonder why. Is it selfishness, fear, or narcissism?

So back to asking more questions… I discovered this behavior comes in many flavors so to speak. Some have permanent relationships and this choice is an extension beyond it. Others remain solitary and do not require the ‘prince and princess fairytale’. What I am hearing and interpret is a choice to remain unattached on all levels. The reason I am being given is, it’s an easy carefree relationship/association. Yes, I consider a sexual encounter a relationship. It has connected expectations on some level and is not a solo act. There are no responsibilities beyond pleasure of the flesh, no expected dependability to each other, and no sappy emotion to get tangled in. I can see the simplicity and ease of hooking up for a night. But I ask can this be a way of life? My heart – the soul of who I am and what I believe- begs to ask if there is more to life. Isn’t the journey about learning, experiencing, and connecting? Or is it about seeking superficial pleasures without growth, knowledge, or connection? Is it travelling down the easy road where the ego rules and ‘Me’ is the only important person in the world?

Even though scenarios around the subject are numerous, I have only reflected on a certain circumstance and conversation. In respect to that, I would digress to say it is or stems from an unhealthy situation. Ill-health producing more of the same is negative in context and brings more negativity into life. I firmly believe we need more positivity. So in conclusion, I would have to say my moral compass is modern enough and I will remain content to believe in a more monogamous and substantial connection.

A Clock’s Tale

Meditation for me is a loose interpretation of an activity I do to quiet my mind. It is a time when I sit focusing on my breathing while I try to corral my thoughts, barring them from my conscious mind. In the moments when I try to be still, my thoughts run around with the energy of young children whose pleasure is found in pushing to always becoming the center of my focus. Today, I actually held my ground for about ten minutes and that is when I found this place. It was not a happy place nor was it a place of fear. It was….unusual and insightful.

Clocks and time ticking away insistent on time keeping. A constant somewhat bothersome reminder of time marching on. I do not remember a detailed vision of this place, but more a knowing of what existed there. It was neither dark nor light there. I felt at ease when I entered and again when I left. Somewhere in the middle though was the realization that I unconsciously, and somewhat obsessively,  keep track of marching time in my mind. Realization was the open door my thoughts used to pull me away and they interrupted my peace. They began to spin a tale of ‘clock watching’ accompanied by the theory of being ‘not enough’. Abundant self-criticism filled my own mind.

My life in the eyes of my ego expressing the amount of time wasted on intentions without success, the lack of a clear career path, wasted moments living in a dream world, (ugh, even my mother’s words are here) the lack of material things and status, and of course the lack of secured future finances. They take me to feelings of inadequacies……I turn to commanding the barrage to stop. “Enough, just stop!” I turn to breathing through and away from the thoughts, calming myself.

I do not wish to stop thinking, but need a more orderly process so I can acknowledge the place I had been and all this mind chatter. I had a very real sense time was running out of the hour glass; Only to realize I was worried about time which could still take 30 or 40 years to run out. Even though I have seen a little more than 50 years pass by, I was seeing the glass half empty.

As I took control of the thoughts one at a time,  I realized the place I found was an answer to the unexplained anxiety attacks I have occassionally. I was living in a future at the end of my time. An end I have no business knowing about and doesn’t concern me even if its tomorrow. What does concern me is what I do with the in between time; each present moment.

In retrospect, the clock is obsolete in the larger scheme of life. Its only value is in the societal world of schedules and marked passages. Life is not the ticking of time. It’s a measure of experiences… teaching, maturing, loving, and transforming a soul.

Ten minutes of silence transports the soul and occassionally a story is told…..a clock’s tale teaching me I must stop listening to the tick of time to be the best me in this moment.

 

 

Give Me My Moments

A snowstorm blanketed North Carolina this past weekend where you just had to prepare and resign yourself to a weekend at home. After a prayer asking for the heat to remain on or be quickly repaired, I settled in preparing for a possible three day weekend.

It snowed more in 24 hours than I have seen here in my entire two and one half years. It is untouched and beautiful at 6am Monday as I watch it turn to freezing rain. As I stood on my screened porch, it was crisp air in a quiet, still moment as I acknowledged the accuracy of the weather peoples’ forecasting. I turned knowing I could snuggle under my covers for a while longer that day.

I woke excited to do some baking and enjoying hallmark movies. To my relief the day was peaceful and the electricity stayed on at my home. However, the anxiety began to rise as I monitored the weather conditions attempting to create a plan of action to return to work the next day.

The plan began with unearthing my car from the mound of snow it was buried under. I knew deep down, my rear-wheel vehicle was not going out of the space it was nestled in unless there was maintenance done to our complex’s roads. But in determination I continued planning a departure in the morning.

I returned to the warmth of my apartment with my puppies as we snuggled onto the couch with dinner and movies until the clock struck bedtime. We retreated to our bed with visions of melting dancing in my head.

Tuesday morning as I stood outside once again on my porch I witnessed a similar scene, except for the few vehicles peeking out of the snow mounds and glistening ice. The visions I had of melting definitely neglected the overnight freezing temperatures.

I adapted my plan to a late start hoping the sun would fully come out. I wished for Mother nature’s assitance in blowing away the clouds so the sun could lend a helping hand in defrosting our winter wonderland. I watched as a couple of vehicles did begin to leave their spaces. This gave me some hope I could do it too.

I donned some warm clothes and headed out with the intent to creep my way into work. That plan quickly went awry as I found myself stuck in the road going in neither direction. This whole ordeal lasted about an hour as I wondered and panicked about how to rectify my situation.

In the panic, my thoughts quickly turned to memories of my knight coming to my rescue…only to grimly realize this time I would have to go it alone. I took my moment filled with tears grieving for another First. A concept I thought I had accomplished a couple years back. But no…another moment please.

I stood up dusting my thoughts away, called my complex’s office, and discovered they would send help my way. They arrived adding hope back into my day. Some time later my car was back nestled in its spot amongst the piled snow and I was resigned to yet another snow day at home.

Once inside I requested yet another moment…one of reflection, thankfulness, and pride. I graciously thought of memories past, thankful I had had a person who was always there to rescue me, and to thankfully acknowledge the saving Angels who came my way.

Oh just one more moment please….

For somewhere in the span of time, I discovered I can take my moments and with God’s grace I’ll be okay.

Humbly grateful!

Just a Tidbit

It’s been a while and there are no eloquent words spewing forth yet. The words seem to be tangled in the emotions and running around in a babbling configuration.

This holiday season is the first time in four that I have found myself completely alone. My kids occupy different continents and opposite sides of the United States. My best friend is now the angel in my heart and heaven. Although you may think the time is long, it seems like yesterday and forever to me since we were a family at home.

My life has moved forward in various ways, but learning to love being with only me…whew!, it’s much harder than I remember as a young adult.

A new home and a new job in an unfamiliar place where I know no one. The guts are present, but the glory is missing.

It’s a journey…

putting one foot in front of the other – I have gotten this. Words strung together to make sentences – well I will keep trying.

Good luck and peace in your journey!

I am still here

I have been silent for a while dealing with life. During that time I wrote a short story in anticipation of entering a contest. However, the powers that be decided I wasn’t to do that right then. The submission did not go through and shredded the story into piecemeal, but I decided it needed to be written and shared regardless.

This is my first attempt at writing a story. The contest wrote the first and last paragraph requiring the writer to write 48 paragraphs to complete the story with no dialogue. I decided to follow the original instructions and post it here.

Once it is posted, I would be grateful to anyone who can offer constructive criticism. I hope you enjoy the story as much as I found pleasure in writing it.