Prose from the Bucket List – A Loving Ramble

And so it was. A time.
A moment.
A fiasco or two, maybe.
Who can say?

Life is moving now. And me? I am reconnecting with myself.
I look back at the different stages of my life. And to each is their own beginning. To each is their own middle and to all is their own ending.
This is life –
cyclical

I cannot see through the eyes of someone else.
But I’d like to.
I’d love to know what beauty looks like through the lens of someone else’s eyes.
I cannot experience strength or know what it feels like to lift something heavy with someone else’s muscles.
But I’d like to try that too.

Nothing is so tragic that we cannot start or stop or retrace our steps to realize what’s been lost – and so, if this is true, then nothing is so lost that we cannot find it again; including our spirit as well as the reason why fate has put us where we are together.
Except for things like car keys or your wallet, or the remote to the television – a person can freak out when we lose these things.
Especially the remote
And that’s a bitch when you lose that because you know it’s in the room; although I spent close to 20-30 minutes looking for the remote one day; only to find that for some reason, I brought the remote into the kitchen and left it on the counter –

I put things in certain places.
I do this because this way I can create a habit and this way, I know where things are when I need them.
But accidentally place an item somewhere that I never put them in and then watch me go crazy as I try to find things like a copy of a bill that I needed to find . . .
Watch me curse the sky and everything else in the room because “I JUST HAD IT!”

Ever say that out loud?
I have.
Several times.

We lose things. This happens.
I lose socks all the time – but only one of them.
I lose papers. I lose my place.
I have lost friends. I’ve lost relationships.
I’ve lost hours in a day.
I’ve lost time on more occasions than I care to admit.
I’ve lost my heart and as I search for this with hope, I lose my place again as well as my understanding of self – because alas, I am alone. 

Or am I?
Nothing is so big or huge that a person cannot recover nor has anything so catastrophic taken place that we cannot redefine ourselves and reconnect – even differently or more improved.
Our ability to recover is absolutely remarkable.
My ability to go, be and do is exemplary.
And so is yours
So, in fairness – the answer is yes.
I can achieve anything. I can do anything. I can endure. I can withstand.
I can adapt and adjust and certainly, I have proven to myself that I can overcome.

I am thinking of that song I told you about from Simon and Garfunkel:
Old friends/Bookends:
A time it was and what a time it was –
A time of innocence.
A time of confidences

Long ago, it must be
I have a photograph . . .
Preserve your memory
They’re all that’s left you.

I am am thinking of this for several reasons now –
I am walking in different places now and seeing different things, which is good for me.
I am seeing my side of the world change from yesterday’s summer.
Autumn is taking place, right before my eyes. It is a transition, I suppose – the world is shedding its skin to make room for something new.
And beautiful . . .

My item for today is to allow what needs to happen.
I cannot fight what is supposed to take place; however, I can live and think and breathe and move in the direction of my choice
(which I am).

I can be true to my heart. I can be true to my dreams.
I can realize that not every downfall or loss is so tragic that I cannot get up or regain my composure.
I can adjust. I can hold the line.
I can be true to myself and whether I laugh or cry, or whether I pass or fail, I can adjust and live accordingly.

It’s true . . .
It’s okay to start over. It’s okay to begin again and it’s okay to circle back and see what needs to change – so that we can be happy.

I have a memory –
A farm, a pasture, a big red barn and a few small houses.
A hill on the side of a mountain – this is a place of my rebirth.
This is where I was when I was young.
This is a place that represents my time of innocence and yes, this was a time of confidence.
I’d love to show you some time . . .

 I was there, not too long ago.
Years ago, maybe.

I drove through the small town of Hancock after a funeral that was not too far away.
I drove down the long, dirt road. I saw the tree that was stationed at the top of a hill.
The landscapes and the farm itself were different from when I was there as a boy, 
But the hill was unchanged. (At least to me.)
I have dreams of this place – not the farm itself, but the hill.
I experienced a personal rebirth here. And I experienced a personal death and even a literal death too. 

It is not too foreign of an idea to think that we experience death throughout our life.
And it is not too foreign of an idea to understand that we experience life on a daily basis.
We all go through patterns in which life offers us a lesson – she teaches us.

And so it was – a time.
Long ago,
I was young then.

I look back with a humble reverence and smile.
Yes, I smile.
I exhale deeply; as if to sigh with a sense of relief because even in darkness, I was able to find the solace of light.  

People –
We are truly an amazing breed.
Yet, we are so unaware of our beauties and our qualities and still, there are so many amazing people in this world.
I am humbled today.
I am smiling, yes, and I am thinking about how the world can go around so many times and still we walk and we learn; we fall and we get back up.
It is amazing to me to learn about new people and how they can withstand and still march onward.
It is inaccurate to compare myself to anyone else – no differently is it unfair to compare anyone else to me –

I had a dream last night – of the hill on the farm.
The only difference in this dream from the ones before is I was not young like I usually am.
No, I was always young in my previous dreams about the hill and the farm.
Not this time.
The sky was gray and the winds were quiet. The grass was wheat-like and bent, winterized and cold but I was warm at the same time.
The farmland and the widespread acreage is outstretched and beautiful. It’s a dream, yes, but this place is real – very real to me.
The farm is huge and the land sits like the cup in the palm of the hands of the surrounding mountain, which is beautiful.
The mountain is tree-lined and hence, this makes up the surrounding boundary of a place that I once knew. 

The trees were black and empty of their leaves.
The trees on the mountains were bare and somehow symbolized the black hairs of an old man’s arm – which is the land beneath us and so, the arms around us are the arms of Father Time.

I know there is more for me here.
I know there is more to do.
I know there is more in my heart and I know there is hope and there is love and each day, there is a new reason to re-address the line and take another shot.

I once told a group of people –
Some days, you have to save your own life.
Some days, you can coast.
Some days, you have to work.
And some days, you can rest.

It makes no sense to personalize a world that does not fit or belong to us.
It makes no sense to be insulted by the noise and the pollution of an unhealthy chaos.
It makes no sense at all –
But life – yes, life is going to keep going.
Life is amazing. 

Life is beautiful – even the dream of mine, last night, as sad or as intense and as gray as the skies may have seemed – it was the sign of age. 
This was a sign that I have this place in my heart – I still have a love story in my heart. I still have blood in my veins. I have air in my lungs and enough strength in my grip to hold a pen.
I have enough of a mind left to write my thoughts. I can speak my truth.
I can share my story.
I can stand tall and I can be proud because on the day when I have to stand and be counted, I know that what I have done will count for something – or maybe even more.

It is inaccurate to lose one’s self to a series of doubts or irrational ideas.
So – grab hold.
Take my hand, if you will.
The trees are losing their leaves soon enough and winter will be upon us in no time.
But that’s okay.
I can keep you warm.
If you’d like
Same as you’ve kept me warm for decades now.

There’s so many beautiful things in this world.
We just need to see them – we need to look.
But believe me when I tell you – the best is yet to come
And the beauty of this is going to change on a daily basis.
As in ongoing – and forever.

I am rambling now.
Yes – and more from a spiritual or even a poetic mindset. I am only here because this is the one place I can ramble safely.
This is the one place that no one can come in and destroy what I have built.
No one can take away our creation.
Not here
(because I won’t let them).

It’s safe here, like a quilted blanket, soft and warm.
Like a cuddled child in the cup of God the Father’s hand
Beautiful too. Loving, also – like the swarm of legs, entwined beneath the sheets, cuddled together for life or longer.

My item on today’s daily bucket list is this:
I am to witness no less than three beautiful things today.
I have to see them. But more, I have to look for them.
Besides, why look for the ugly when there’s so many pretty things around us
(like you).