I had a dream that I lived on an island. And one day I awoke from a deep sleep, I walked out and boarded a raft… a raft made of words… used to communicate, examine, consider, anticipate, relate and meditate. I soon realized that this is how I compliment the world, as a reader and a writer of words. And in my contemplation I enter new realms of being; new ways of thinking afforded by this raft of words. This new way of lucidity enhances my personal mythology for as reader and writer I embrace what is subjectively true for me as others must render for themselves. In this raft, my quest is to know the self and my place in the grand design of things. This is the brave new world I enter upon.
My brother died in September of 2009 after a two-year battle with cancer. He was simple in his outlook on life; never needing to impress anyone. He loved football, over indulged when it came to eating, collected pocket knives and had a love for scary movies. He was more inclined to do for others than for himself; like cutting his grass, as well as my sister and my mother’s twice a week… in addition to taking care of any repairs on all three houses. He never wanted to rock the boat, just keep it sound and steady and had a tendency to worry when things went adrift. Continue reading Lessons Learned… A Eulogy
“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived,” -Henry David Thoreau
A beautiful Sunday morning; a chill is in the air, the sun is out, I get ready to take a four mile hike around Lake Lynne, the water level rose from last
evening’s rain making it enticing to all manner and species of duck as they glide through Continue reading Just Like Church
We feel as though we’re in touch with something greater than our individual selves; something sacred within that we can only catch a glimpse of when in deep meditation, which leads to a portal, to an awareness of the mystery of our lives. A gift from the universe that touches the masters hands across the veil of time and space.
A challenge, issued by Kevin Morris at Newauthoronline to write a post about our favorite book. (Please visit Kevin at his site; you will be glad you did!)
My choice is, The Razor’s Edge by W. Somerset Maugham published in 1944.
An unusual book in that the author narrates but also plays himself in the story and hints that the novel may have some truth to it. You can Google it and find a few websites dedicated to proving it factual.
The story begins at the end of WW1 and follows Larry Darrell who served as a fighter pilot and saw action over the skies of France. Larry befriends another pilot, a jovial Irishman who dies after saving his life. From here on Larry’s life changes as he searches for answers about death, God and what’s the purpose. He returns home to his fiancée Isabel and befuddles everyone as he turns down a job offer from his best friend Gray. He decides he wants to move to Paris and ‘loaf’ for a couple of years. Isabel loves him and will wait, but all the while thinking he will come to his senses. Continue reading My Favorite Book Challenge… The Razor’s Edge
If you hear a voice within you say ‘you cannot paint,’ then by all means paint and that voice will be silenced. -Vincent Van Gogh
Vincent Van Gogh suffered from manic depression and epilepsy, Edvard Munch with hallucinations and anxiety, and as a new study has revealed, Beethoven also suffered from manic depression. One cannot think of the genius of these three without thinking them eccentric to say the very least. Would they have displayed such genius if manic depression and anxiety were not an issue; if the seeds of great ability manifested in spite of illness? Would we then not think of them as exceptional in their field? Or did manic depression and anxiety give rise to their extraordinary talent? Maybe it was a little of both. Ask yourself the same question, would you become more creative after such a diagnoses? Continue reading Parkinson’s, the Starry Night and Creativity
“What am I in the eyes of most people — a nonentity, an eccentric, or an unpleasant person — somebody who has no position in society and will never have; in short, the lowest of the low. All right, then — even if that were absolutely true, then I should one day like to show by my work what such an eccentric, such a nobody, has in his heart.” -Vincent van Gogh
“May the wind under your wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks.”
-J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit
It is time my children, you must leave this fortress; the battlements turned down. As Perceval left the forest in search of the Grail he knew nothing about, there are new adventures at hand for you and for me that we can’t at this time perceive… new words to write and old ones to reprimand. But it is all for naught if you never enter the world.
“Change you vibration, change your life” -The Buddha
Impossible dreams that eat at the moments, one by one. Throw these away into the dustbin of lost days. Too much sleep wrapped in a cold blanket of fear and false initiatives that fade like the setting sun.
But Helios must rise again for another round! And now, the time has come; realization has its moment. For you discover that the key to your prison door was with you all along… now live, breathe and be in each moment no matter where they happen to fall. Shout yes in your silence with a steady desire to constantly believe in the better nature of all sentient beings.