That’s my house over there. It’s white with an attached garage. My room is the room upstairs with the window that faces the front of the house. Ours is the fifth house, north of Front Street.
The name of my street is Merrick Avenue which is somewhat of a main road but it’s not too busy. Then again, it’s not the kind of street that one can play a game of stickball on or anything like that. No, ours was a main road that ran north and south through our town. There was a steady flow of traffic which was never too bad; but again, there was no playing in the street.
A Witness Through the Window – Entry 1
They say that the eyes are the windows of the soul. In my moments of early purification, this was my view. This was my family and like you or anyone else in the world, we come across our early visions to people who are the family’s royalty. Like Grandmothers and the touch from a hand with skin, so soft, like the flesh of a velvet rose and so warm like the spirit of unconditional love. There is nothing quite like this and there is no love to match its equal.
Continue readingA Witness Through the Window – Introduction
So, this is me.
I am the young one, right there, on the right side of the dinner table. I was precocious, or so I was told. I am the youngest in this scenario and over to my right is my Mother. There she is, typical in many ways but unique in others.
Then again, this is the 1970’s and the world was a different place back then. Mom was not afraid of work nor was she afraid of the corporate world. In fact, Mom held different jobs from stewardess to working at Pepsi. Mom was never intimidated by work. Maybe this is because Mom left her childhood home when she was young.
Tell Me Something Good
Tell me something good.
Tell me something beautiful about the world like the way the beach looks in the morning. Know what I mean?
Tell me what the beach looks like, just about the time when the sun is coming up and all you can hear are the seagulls in the wind and the waves that hit the sands. There’s no one around and there’s nothing to disturb the moment.
Tell me something that comes without anger or hate. Tell me something that would appeal to the ears of anyone who is tired of the norm.
Tell me something about anything other than violence or the crime rate in the City. Please, tell me. I really want to hear it.
It’s Almost That Time of Year
And then the alarm goes ring . . .
It’s time to get up. The sun is about to push into the sky like a bright orange yolk in the palm of the horizon. It’s cold though.
There will be no warmth today.
At least not from the sun.
Be Kind, Always. It won’t hurt (much)
It is safe to say that I have met some unkind people. It is safe to say that we see this all the time too. We definitely see this on the 5 o’clock news. We see this at work too. We see people who lead through intimidation or people who speak with sarcasm.
We see people who laugh at someone else’s expense and, yes, everyone knows a bully or two – or maybe even three or four. If we’re being honest, it’s safe to say that we see mean people do mean things all the time. Better yet, we’ve somewhat become numb to the fact that mean things happen all the time.
It’s just part of life, right?
Believing Without Seeing
Daylight switches to dusk and night becomes the morning.
I’ve written this before yet it’s as though I’ve never said this out loud.
Before we know it, days have gone by (sometimes weeks or even months and then it’s years) and there we are, standing there with our questions and wondering about the things we missed. We find ourselves at an understanding time that’s slipped through our fingers like the finest sand from some distant beach.
Don’t Quit –
I know that we’ve all grown. And hell, it’s been years since we’ve been young or on the prowl. Though we are not so young anymore, there is still a piece of us who has yet to grow. There is a part of our spirit which has yet to fully transition into the person we’re supposed to be. It’s never over – until it’s over.
And me?
Well, this is me now. I am often at an impasse of sorts, still working and still hoping like I did when I was young. I’m still maneuvering and looking to find my position beneath the sun. I am still youthful yet there is a part of me who is begging to get out. There’s a piece of me that wants to jump from this cocoon or so it seems. Then I can be free and clear to walk and think or to enjoy the rest of the world without a blemish or mark; as in stigma, or as in the trained assumptions and the biases that we so freely distribute to each other –
Go Time
Just wondering . . .
How old were you when you realized how important it is to enjoy your life?
It’s a simple question really. So, when was it?
When was it that you came to the understanding that your happiness is important? Or even better, has this happened yet?
Has it happened that you realized how often we fight about wasteful ideas? Or, should I ask when was it that your eyes opened up long enough to see your reality, to know that this is life and since this is life or whether we understand this or not, at what point have you come to know that this is you? This is your life.
When was it?
Or wait, has this happened yet?
Get up. Get out of bed. Get dressed. And go.
I make no mistake when I say there will always be some kind of adversity.
There will always be someone who comes along or someone to tell you about what you’ve done wrong or how and where you can improve.
There will always be someone resting in the comforts of an armchair or behind a computer screen with a critique and an opinion. And there will always be the one who criticizes your progress. They’ll do this as if this was their job. They will pluck the feathers from the wings of your dreams and they’ll do this so you’ll never take off before them or without them.
The Written Addiction 