I am Wandering (Wondering)

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In the midst of my insanity I wonder. I wonder why I am, what will I do and if there is a purpose for my life so far. I wonder how full I am and find myself wandering inside my head too much.

What happens when we wander aimlessly inside our minds. Lingering to often in the section that says “What If?” Then we head over to the next section that says ” What Now?” We may sit down in the chair and pour over all the ideas we have bouncing around with no conclusion, maybe even attempt to take the book out and do something about it. Action does speak louder than the silence that runs so deep within.

What now? Maybe the what and the now means to try again. Maybe it says walk to a different part of your minds library to the section that reads “No Answer.” All the books are blank because we haven’t filled them in yet. We haven’t taken the chances or made the changes required to find a page that has writing. Chance means to be neutral to what we desire, change means we just did it and have found a quite different answer. What do you think? Thinking requires thought and thought requires an emotional attachment to the process.

I think in my insanity that it requires me to stop thinking! To wander about in wonderment of all that I am. This multi thinking, multi dimensional super person that I am. To be insane to find sanity requires us to be unconventional, out of the box and not to normal. It’s being real.

I will wonder while I wander and then I wonder again. Well it’s back to the library where I will peruse a section that I have never been to before and learn something new. Then the adventure will begin.

Couches

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Couches are for sitting. Observations come next depending on the view. Who sits on the couch and do you share?

Conversations begin, debates on todays activities, even those conversations where no communication is needed. It only takes a minute for the body to meld into the cushions. it either leaves the mind behind or begins the gathering of information. The information can be visual, mental, or neither. Have you decided to sleep?

Couches are for learning. They are there for kids to jump on and for cuddles when the day is done. Couches are also for touching and kisses, yet only found occasionally. What happens when we sit on the couch. Coffee, snacks maybe motivation to not sit there at all.

I’m on my couch. I’ve decided to share this modern arena with someone else. What is happening between the area that is the safe zone. Well it holds our space right now. There are books and computers, headphones and blankets. Is there conversation, communication, mind reading?

No the space between us is pretty busy. The conversations are being written down by me and heard through the drum of headphones by the other person who has yet to vacate this space. Our space is small, our visions wide in an attempt to overtake the other, who ever gets up first. Whose space is it? The couch holds the past, the present and the future. It holds the beginning of the day where our communication may be more or less and it also ends the day when our bodies are tired and somewhat irritable from what the day has brung.

One smile across the miles of limited couch space can change the evaluation one has when the eyes meet, the mouthes open and we set down our headphones, turn off the tv, set down the computer (after I finish my writing) and say hello to the day.

Get up off the couch, put down the coffee, the internet and the silence and begin to tell your story. Make a bench in the park your new couch, a hillside where you rest your bike or you feet after a run. Maybe a swing, while watching the kids play.

I love my couch, and I love my life. I hope you do too.

Serenity (serenade me)

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Quietly I watch, as the time ticks away to the rhythm of my cats purrs. Each whisker whispering in tune to the the cats breathing. Why do I watch?

My own breath breathes but does it breath serenity? Does it know patience, able to sit for as long as needed, ears tuned in and not outward?

I look down and feel the cats claws slowly intertwining with my leg as he begins to kneed to the sounds of its own sleeping. Are you in the moment I ask the cat, present to the nature of being nurtured? Why can’t I close my eyes and feel this same rhythm? The sweet beating of my heart, like a drum beating out a dance for the body to be kin too. I wish myself well.

I will try to be cat like, purr-fect and feline. Nurtured by Mother Nature in knowing of myself. Maybe I will hang out by the fire and sleep until the unknown awakens me. Hungry for love I will hold my cat, become one with its serenity and essence.
Cat’s eyes open , his mouth now a cave of yawns as he sprawls out belly up. “feed me, he shouts, feed me.” So much for peace and serenity, so much for love. He’s now hungry for another kind of attention, that which only food can provide and I shall.

Lists, (tick, tock)

If we could live to a very old age would we be able to say at the end our journey that we completed our life the way we had hoped to? Would we still have a list in our pocket, our bucket list?

I would love to be that person who could say yes, to be able to give you another list, this list containing all the reasons I did choose the things on my list. The list goes on because I would then need to justify my list against your list and any other bodies list that is different than mine.

Mountains we climb and mountains we will climb. What would I do and what would my list look like. I took this to another level and decided to actually make “the list” and was surprised as to what I randomly wrote.

I wish I could have said first and foremost, save the planet, yet I did not. Did I write anything esoteric, not really. I think looking at my list I realized how human I really am. Human we are, persons with unique personalities, wants and desires. Are we soulful, at times, but I bet it wasn’t your number one. If asked to randomly write your list what would you write?

I want to be healthy. To be able to climb my mountains until the day I rest my body forever. I’d like to be able to say I made the right decisions concerning friends, family and career. Did I say wealth, I probably did because we all believe money does help us not get so stressed. Stress was not on my list and that is a good thing. Love, did I mention I hoped to have love for all time and not to be lonely. Longevity was undetermined because in the end I decided that to live forever or for a very long time may not be as productive as we imagine. Lessons will always come along and the challenges of living a longtime never go away.

I want to be real, to have goals and to see the positive end to those things I plan along the way. To find joy in my heart and believe there is always a better way to do something. In the end having done just that and in doing so, I would find my truth.

How about you? Tick Tock, tick, tock.

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Mile High

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Theres something I want to talk about, something very real to all of us. It’s a topic of self importance as it has to do with surviving. So let me pose you the question about survival. When do you know that who you are is just a survivor?

This mornings conversation over coffee was, how do we know if we are following our personal passions or belonging to the personal failure culture? Think about what I am really saying.

In todays world, we are always mindful, trying to thrive on our goals and our ambitions. The ambition is most likely personal our goals coming from a story held deep inside. We can not hide from the facts nor can we run from the emotions we all have. Our makeup is turmoil. It’s a venue of do’s and don’t, can and can’t, should and never. In return we have negotiated with our subconscious and told ourselves that if we can survive it will make it all better. Surviving is doing not a whole lot for our success or for failure for that matter. It’s liken to a mannequin who stands naked in a store window until its dressed, then and only then is there a story. We are just that a naked human who decides every day to wake up, get ready to succeed or fail, then undresses once again. If we go about our day dodging bullets are we failing? What about the opposite, standing in front of the bullets to feel success?

I think we have found a whole new way of doing things and it’s called standing in the middle. We have become survivors and not to a positive end. When we follow along disallowing the chance to learn we are only surviving. We value the acts of not doing over the acts of learning from our consequences and challenges. It’s time for change. I’ve always believed in choices made, challenges accepted and the follow through of change. Change happens when we make a different choice. Change happens when we get out of the middle and make a decision to follow through, to learn more about ourselves. Are we too big, too small, too inconsistent, always living through another? We do and we do so, to survive.

Time out everyone. Take a breath and breathe in something that could change you. It doesn’t have to be something big or magnificent. It could be as small as learning to fail at something you thought was your right to be. Choices are all around us and choice doesn’t include just surviving. It doesn’t mean drafting along behind someone else who tends to be bigger in personality or worth. It’s about being real to your truth.

The conversation could have gone on but sometimes truth is a bitter cup of coffee in the morning. So today I will learn to fail to find my strengths. I will become small to see myself as a bigger person with honest goals. I will no longer just survive by getting through the day. I will become the day, the moment or the second when I tell myself I am not a survivor but a truth slayer.

I don’t have to be anything more than real, passionate and able to persuade myself to follow through, though failure and success. To keep moving, keep trying, for life is nothing more than an education in success and failure. Because to stand still in the middle will only get you run over.

Sun Flower (Me back to my childhood)

Sun flower me back in time. Back to the days of simple. If there is really such a place.

Childhood lazy me down, where I feel connected and held. Afternoons spent drawing pictures of dragons and angels using the clouds as my crayons.

Giggles of laughter, roll me down the hills of grass behind my home making time stop forever until the sun goes down.

Wind drift me away where I can fly through the air, sitting on pillows of softness. Is there a genie to make my wishes come true?

Feet run away with me. To a place where I can dig in with my toes, through acres of sand and waves of joy that believe in me .

Sun flower raise your head to the heart of the sun and shine.

The Stories We Tell

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The stories we tell, the tales we wind, as we search for a truth to reveal. Where do our stories come from? Are they real, in a matter of fact way? Do we have reason to be true or hold secrets deep beneath the surface of our conscious mind.

We all have secrets, untold stories of revelry. Where we are the true heroes and everyone one else the villain. Stories of doubt, submission and misery. We are not the undo cause of our forlorn for we are the heroes. We are the character that befriends the unfriendly and becomes king. We are also the slave, slaves to the mind where our stories grow and bloom for anyone that will hear.

Is the truth worth revealing? A simple yet factual truth that is meant to bring forth joy, once it’s revealed. Is it better hidden, built upon small indifferent lies or mere tales too sweeten the pot for another ears to hear. Does it make you look brave? Maybe unaware to the villain until you are saved by a hero.

Does life get better with the stories we tell or can the truth prevail? Worthy of an audience we tell one true rendering in hopes of being saved. There really is no judge or jury only the predicament we placed ourselves in the bearer of the story.

Shall we stand today and voice our consciousness into submission. Tell a simple few shareholders a truth about ourselves never before spoken. There is no reason to reason the why this story began but to only give it an ending so a new story can begin.