And This? This Is More

There is something to be said about the summertime> or even more, there is something about the sunrise on a beach from a place in my past.
Or of course, there is something about the dichotomy or the division and the contrast of life and youth and age as it unfolds or transpires.
Life is happening.
Always.
But ah, such is life.
This is life when we find ourselves in the moment, awake and alive, and brave enough to face ourselves, honestly, with an introspective thought.
There is much to be considered or thought about when taking the dares in your heart.
And this is another fact: not enough people dare to follow their heart due to the fact of their failed past.
I know. I have lived this way too.
There is something to be said about the freedom that comes when you walk away.
No looking back. No turning around.
Just go . . .

Or more, there is a particular freedom which comes when we make a decision without backing down.
There is something to be said when we say “stop!” and stand up for ourselves.
I love this idea.

Simply put, there is something that is both beautiful and extraordinary when you finally choose to exit the madness of your poor strategies and say goodbye to your own self-destruction.

I remember when I was young enough to dream but old enough to understand that not all dreams come true. There is a certain freedom when we find our best level of acceptance and understanding.
Some dreams will not come true. Yet, somehow, all prayers are answered.
We just don’t like the answers sometimes.

There is something to be said about the spirit of standing one’s ground or facing the incoming tide on the beach at sunrise.
I need more moments like this.
There is something to resigning all of our outgoing resentments.
I exhale, which is Mother Earth when the tides go up and down.
She is the sea . . .
I can exhale and let my bygones be taken out to sea, just like the unwanted sediments in the sand, washed by the waves and baptized on the shore.

Then again, I suppose our perspective changes with age.
Or maybe we grow, which is why hindsight is always perfect.

Maybe I have grown enough to see myself in a better light. Maybe I have made a decision to let things pass when they do not serve me well.
The truth is, I don’t know . . .

Maybe I have grown enough to let go of certain desires that somehow faded or lost their posture.
I have grown enough to let go of the weakness in my spine.
I call this weakness the useless and irrational fear.

Hence, I regard my spineless fashion as my moments of regret, which is something else that I need to escape.
Regret . . . what an ugly word.
I remember the days when I tried to wear a brave face—and yet, my bravery was fake and way too timid.
I was scared the same as a little mouse . . .
I was like that mouse in the house who had no hatred or hateful intent.
But life is life, status is status, and the great, almighty food chain is always eager to keep its pecking order.

Life is always hungry, just like any predator.
I’m hungry too.
And so, I waited instead of hunted.
I became the prey that prayed upon others.
But I am not that person anymore
(or, so I hope).

My heart beats.
This has never stopped.
At least, not yet or at least my heart has not stopped in the literal sense.
(Or not that I know of.)

It would be inaccurate to say that people live and never understand what it means to die and wake up the next day.
It would be inaccurate to say that we only live once and die once because life and death is an ever-changing concept.
And I mean this.
Life is ever changing and always moving, same as the hemisphere which moves close to the sun at summertime, and tilts further away when the winter comes.
Life is cyclical.
I know it is.

We are reborn countless times and we die several times as well.
This happens upon our entry, since birth.
Life and death happen, especially from an emotional or figurative sense.

Nothing stops.

And this?
Or me?
My body grew until it reached its plateau.
Now, age has caused part of me to shrink or stand shorter.
Therefore, I suppose I grow in other ways.
Or so I hope . . .

I am not as tall as I was when I was younger nor am I braver about facing my everyday life.
I am equally a coward.
I am not afraid to say it –
I am not brave in many regards, yet I am far less timid now than I was younger and strong.
I am not who I was from a physical perspective, yet I have never been anyone other than me.

Either way, I have always been somewhat of an introvert and equally opposite.
I am afraid but I have hidden my fears behind the bravery of a false bravado.
(If that makes sense.)
I have never been quiet nor am I shy. Yet, I am more timid than a mouse, hidden in the attics of our childhood memories.

It is amazing to me.
I am amazed at the enlightenment, which is neither fair or unkind, but honest to say the least.
Enlightenment is only awareness, which is neither good or bad, when we think about it . . .
It is what it is.
Isn’t that what people say?
I see what I see now.
I see what I missed and no, there is no going back nor is there any way to renegotiate the past. I can try if I want, but there is no point to argue about the facts of what took place.

Whatever should have happened, did happen.
Otherwise, we would be here, and complaining about something else.

There is something to be said about the freedom we experience when breaking away from the crowd.
I express this equally openly about when we undress from our typical uniforms.
What I mean is there is a freedom when we escape the wardrobes that we usually wear —and there we are, just like that, undressed and free.

Could you imagine what it feels like to be free?
Free, as in free from the burdens of our critical self.
No more self-destruction or self-harm or internal abuse.

There we are.
free . . .
All it took was a decision.
Seriously.

Our freedom began when we chose to be on the other side of our usual existence.
And ah, the feelings we have on mornings like this. . .
escaped and gone.

I used to love to take early morning walks in the summertime.
I love walking on the beach, of course, but the beach was not always available to me.

I love walking the quiet streets of tiny neighborhoods, early in the morning on a Sunday when all are sleeping and only the Godly are awake and ready to hear their man who preaches from the pulpit

I love summer mornings when the sunrise is like an orange yolk, bubbling from the palm of God the Father’s brand-new horizon.
The sun is young to the day yet I can feel the warm sentiments in my heart.
I can feel the love I have always wished for as it bleeds from me in the beads of sweat, which dripped from my body.

I admit it . . .
I miss things from my past but the past is gone. As best as I can figure it, there will be no tickets to their resurrection sold at a discount this morning.
I’ll have to work on my redemption on my own.
Or so I suppose.

I am awake in mid-winter and missing what it feels like to lay beside a love that is ongoing, undying, and yet, — I have learned that same as we die and experience rebirth in life, love dies too.
The salvation or redemption from our past is never as we assumed.
But again, all prayers are answered.
We just might not like the answers we get.

Therefore, if it is only by dying that one awakens to eternal life; then I question how many times I have to sleep so that I can reawaken and understand that not all people are intended to stay, and not all will go.

Love blooms, and often, the same as flowers can wilt in autumn, so shall they curl with age and seem to die.
All the flowers die, until their life comes back with the resurgence of spring.
You …
you are my springtime.
I know it.
I swear.

No one can kill me forever, not my past, not the loves that failed, not even me.

I can certainly live without living . . .
I can die alive for as long as I allow this to happen.
Or, I can choose to take a walk.
I can walk away.
I can say goodbye to all that has hurt me.
I can say goodbye to the things that warmed my heart before they spoiled.
I can say goodbye to anyone or anything.
I can do this.
Right now
“Goodbye”
and yes, that’s it.
I’m gone.

But for now, I think I’ll watch the sunrise before I start my day.

I will see you soon.
I promise
and when the summer comes, the beach and I have a few things to talk about.

Make no mistakes about it.
I don’t want to be that little mouse anymore.
I don’t want to be timid or hide or be afraid.

I want to be brave.

I want to see the waves of my new life come in
and feel washed, or baptized
just like the sands after the tides go out –

Understand?