I have a rejection email from a magazine submission. I rarely submit poetry and with work, life, education, and with my schedule being the way it is, I rarely send out poetry submissions at all.
However, the idea of rejection or that my submission was withdrawn stuck with me. First and foremost, they believed my submissions were fiction, which couldn’t be further from the truth. I make it a point that everything I write about is real or true —or at minimum, everything I write about is real or true to me.
There Will Always Be Us
There will always be something for us to remember. Whether the moment is small or quick or if the time is bigger than ever, there will always be something for us to remember.
I take this idea to heart. And you should too.
Live, Love, Laugh, and Learn
I sat in a classroom for 8-hours, learning about mental health with the main premise, based on a few different acronyms. One idea above all stood out to me. They called it the four L’s.
Two instructors alternated, subject by subject, which I thought was brilliant because their upbeat energy was enough to keep the classroom alive. They complimented each other very well and kept the information interesting, which is good because an 8-hour class is a long class to be in. All the while, both instructors stressed the four L’s, which are Live, Love, Laugh, and Learn.
It’s All In Your Head
I hate those words . . .
The problem is what if this is true? What if this is all in our head like everything else is? The fears and the doubts and especially insecurity are in hour head, which I get, and which is not to say that none of them are valid. Instead, I say everything is valid if we believe in it.
I say reality and belief is not always the same thing, which I get as well, which is why I ask the main question in the first place.
What if this is true?
What if all this is really in our head?
A Night In The Woods
We took the trail between the crevice of Eagle Rock and Limekilm Mountain and headed closer to the Ladentown and then over to the second reservoir. This is where we set up camp. The hike itself was several miles and the terrain went from mild to steep in different spots. It was summer and the winds were extremely warm. The trees were green and the air was sweet from the dew and the mountains. It was hot for sure but the climb was well worth it.
Continue readingIs It Time For A Drive?
I have this idea, which comes to me when the moments become too intense. I think of this when the anxiety builds up inside and next is the claustrophobic feeling that happens when you feel like you just can’t away from yourself.
Continue readingSessions From The Balcony: Dream Poetry
And then there was silence.
No words. No noise, nothing to say.
Just silence.
From The Book Of Firsts: The Retreat Out East
He was a happy man, somewhat round and somewhat short, with a round face and shaggy, salt and pepper hair that fell across his head in the shape of a bowl-cut hairstyle. This was the kind of hairstyle one would expect to see on a Franciscan Monk, or a priest, or whichever the proper term may be. His voice was friendly and happy.
I suppose no one would ever know by looking at him. I know that I had no Idea. Why would I, right? After all, the guy was a priest. What would he know about addiction or alcoholism or anything in between?
They Were Right. It Is A Small World After All.
One of my most influential memories is equally one of my most painful. However, the lesson I learned is unforgettable. More accurately, the one thing I learned is that we tend to hold onto things.
We carry the imaginary weight of our assumptions that lead us to conclusions. We argue and we fight when meanwhile, there is an entire world out there, just passing us by and then one day, we snap out of it.
We wake up. We turn around and wonder what happened or where the time went.
Unfortunately, regret is only in the aftermath and by the time we wake up, it is too late; we have allowed the trivial moments to take priority of times that really matter.
So . . . I Heard You’re A Writer.
Everyone has their own life’s story. And sometimes I am approached with a frequent idea that begins with something like, “So I heard you’re a writer.”
I am often told about life from someone else’s perspective, which I appreciate. More often, however, I hear the most popular idea which is, “If I wrote a book about my life, I guarantee you it would be a best seller!”
There would be a lot of best sellers out there if this were so, but nevertheless, this is when I refer to my stock response, which is, “So then write it.” This changes the energy of the conversation almost instantly.
The Written Addiction 