When I started . . .
I began to wonder about the sound of thunder
or I found myself lost in the curiosity
of how long it would take for the storm to arrive.
When I began to learn,
I swore that perhaps I had forgotten
what it means to feel, or if I dared to feel,
I suppose I forgot the last time
or when it was,
the last time I felt loved
or believed, as in
lovingly.
I am . . .
I am someone who sees
or at least
I think I do.
I am someone who knows,
or as life has proven to me,
repeatedly, and more than once
I don’t know half as much
as I thought,
or at least, so I think.
Maybe I think too much,
for my own sake.
Or maybe,
should I say
maybe I think too much
for my own sanity?
What is it now?
What’s next?
What do I do?
All three are great questions.
But –
All three questions have often had
one common answer.
And that answer is this:
I don’t know.
It’s not so bad. You know?
Walking away. Starting over.
It’s not so bad to give yourself a fresh start or to realize that maybe yesterday wasn’t so great.
So . . .
What does that mean about today?
Maybe starting over is exactly what we needed. Or maybe I needed the ground to shake, and our so-called personal earthquake happened because we didn’t have the strength or the ability to make a decision or walk away. Better yet, maybe the so-called bad news wasn’t so bad.
Continue readingIt’s time to be clear.
No one ever said this is going to be easy.
Do you know what?
It’s not going to be easy.
Not at all.
But that doesn’t mean everything has to be hard.
No, not even close.
It’s time now.
Even if we don’t want to or even if we don’t think we can, it’s time now.
It’s time to get up. It’s time to get moving.
No one else is coming.
No one is going to help.
No one is going to hold the door for us.
And no one else is going to save us.
No one else will save us a spot in line.
No one can live for us. No one can forget for us.
No one can take away the pain or erase what happened.
No one.
And we know this.
I was told something a long, long time ago.
I was told that I have to believe.
I have to have faith.
But how?
Life is all messed up. The world is an angry place.
Everything is so hard . . .
I say this to you now, sipping from a freshly made cup of coffee.
I do my own mix too. This cup is a mixture with a coconut flavored brand, a 4-ounce salted caramel cappuccino, and a shot of dark chocolate espresso to give the finish a nice, bold, and strong flavor.
Define silence.
Define the quietness and tell me about the room when no one else is around.
There are no distractions.
What is silence other than the absence of sound?
And when there is silence, what does this do?
What happens when there is no one else around?
No one else is there to intercept your thoughts.
No one is there to entertain the moment.
It is Friday morning.
I know there has to be more.
There has to be more than “just” this.
I know there has to be more than the early morning coffee and the trips to the bathroom. I know there has to be more than cell phone technology. There has to be more to life than early morning meetings, which are useless on most days.
There’s more to life than emails about emails. There has to be more to life than work.
(At least I hope so.)
What would it look like if there was no past?
What would it look like if yesterday never happened?
Imagine if there were no more fights to rethink.
No more regret. No more reliving or rethinking what took place.
No more emotional quicksand or allowing anyone or anything to have an influence in our lives.
I suppose this is what it means when we talk about freedom from self.
I agree. This is a great idea.
I agree that we have to separate and walk away from what happened.
We have to walk away from certain things, regardless of right or wrong, good or bad.
We have to stop, drop, and let go.
The Written Addiction 