It’s been a big week on the mindfront and in the heart.
So big that I won’t disclose the minutiae, even in private, for months to come, because I am too busy living in the delicious present, tasting and feeling every emotion in my repertoire vibrating forth in deep, harmonious melody.
The chimes come in , the bass lows, the voice within me pricks at the right moment and issues a sweet, vocal exhale of everything I’ve been inspired by.
Deep loneliness is one of the contrasting hues of the human experience. It can bring a greater appreciation for every moment of warm, brilliant, heartfelt interaction. Chapters of isolation (most people have them, I assume) whether self imposed or real, are like the reset button that follows a sequence of taken-for-granted thinking.
I've always been of the belief that one true, good friend is more than I could ask for, and yet somehow, I've experienced an influx of beautiful friendships with incredible people in the past few years, each bringing a unique element to my aggregate energy that leaves me feeling whole, overcome with gratitude, optimistic about the human condition.
I've probably said that before, but when I went to make today's post, it surfaced again in an intense rush from the heart.
That said, here's a segment of today's writing sesh that I'd like to share.....
Airfare is on sale, gas is cheap. In a sell-out world, my mind has set sail to different realities and stages of nostalgic locale, heart-warming
in essence, calming in companionship, enlightening…
Who knew it was possible to feel so whole, yet so subdivided at the same time.
I yearn for this game of Mafia we played on the plywood surface of that perennially unfinished dwelling, the abode that heals our soul and binds us together, ligaments to our different parts and functions and distinctly divided intentions.
We function with the breathless strength of a hardworking unit. We forgive, we heal. We struggle and adapt, we ponder in unison and arrive at conclusion, indifference.
You stand there in your work gloves and tell me of your fixing and creating and building. I sit with the heat of my words filling the interior of my cheeks, swirling slowly against the permanent retainer binding my front teeth. Canine to canine she said yesterday, scraping the effects of a thousand days of intake from my dentate jaws… and I thought dog to dog, bird to bird, human to tooth to bite to nourish to live to think to express…. are we so different?
My words speak soundless volumes of my interpretation of what you’ve simply, profoundly accepted and lived. I walk circles, staring suspiciously, rotating in face-off opposition, wondering… could I be there?
Could I walk this circle, drawing nearer in every round, like the penny in the cyclone, the plastic chamber that filled acoustically with the copper, nickel, silver offerings of young children, the cast offs of the paper that paid for the cheap meals - jackpot, right down the center, into the common chasm.
The entertainment of the donation and the cozy advertisement of its beneficiaries offering respite from the ensuing disappointment of white bred, enriched buns and slathered onion mix, the pseudo nourishing puck of ground beast nestled between.
And is this satisfaction, or survival? Are we living conscious, contemplative, thoughtful existences in our allotment of time, or shall we spend it reacting, rowing backwards against our natural currents, challenging not the status quo or the author of all that we’ve inadvertently come to embrace, were we to be defined as an original creature in the universe.
Rather, we blend into the monotony of a composite body, a sea of plankton in an ocean of delusion, wafting – waving with the tides, eyes closed.
Or not.
So big that I won’t disclose the minutiae, even in private, for months to come, because I am too busy living in the delicious present, tasting and feeling every emotion in my repertoire vibrating forth in deep, harmonious melody.
The chimes come in , the bass lows, the voice within me pricks at the right moment and issues a sweet, vocal exhale of everything I’ve been inspired by.
Deep loneliness is one of the contrasting hues of the human experience. It can bring a greater appreciation for every moment of warm, brilliant, heartfelt interaction. Chapters of isolation (most people have them, I assume) whether self imposed or real, are like the reset button that follows a sequence of taken-for-granted thinking.
I've always been of the belief that one true, good friend is more than I could ask for, and yet somehow, I've experienced an influx of beautiful friendships with incredible people in the past few years, each bringing a unique element to my aggregate energy that leaves me feeling whole, overcome with gratitude, optimistic about the human condition.
I've probably said that before, but when I went to make today's post, it surfaced again in an intense rush from the heart.
That said, here's a segment of today's writing sesh that I'd like to share.....
Airfare is on sale, gas is cheap. In a sell-out world, my mind has set sail to different realities and stages of nostalgic locale, heart-warming
in essence, calming in companionship, enlightening…
Who knew it was possible to feel so whole, yet so subdivided at the same time.
I yearn for this game of Mafia we played on the plywood surface of that perennially unfinished dwelling, the abode that heals our soul and binds us together, ligaments to our different parts and functions and distinctly divided intentions.
We function with the breathless strength of a hardworking unit. We forgive, we heal. We struggle and adapt, we ponder in unison and arrive at conclusion, indifference.
You stand there in your work gloves and tell me of your fixing and creating and building. I sit with the heat of my words filling the interior of my cheeks, swirling slowly against the permanent retainer binding my front teeth. Canine to canine she said yesterday, scraping the effects of a thousand days of intake from my dentate jaws… and I thought dog to dog, bird to bird, human to tooth to bite to nourish to live to think to express…. are we so different?
My words speak soundless volumes of my interpretation of what you’ve simply, profoundly accepted and lived. I walk circles, staring suspiciously, rotating in face-off opposition, wondering… could I be there?
Could I walk this circle, drawing nearer in every round, like the penny in the cyclone, the plastic chamber that filled acoustically with the copper, nickel, silver offerings of young children, the cast offs of the paper that paid for the cheap meals - jackpot, right down the center, into the common chasm.
The entertainment of the donation and the cozy advertisement of its beneficiaries offering respite from the ensuing disappointment of white bred, enriched buns and slathered onion mix, the pseudo nourishing puck of ground beast nestled between.
And is this satisfaction, or survival? Are we living conscious, contemplative, thoughtful existences in our allotment of time, or shall we spend it reacting, rowing backwards against our natural currents, challenging not the status quo or the author of all that we’ve inadvertently come to embrace, were we to be defined as an original creature in the universe.
Rather, we blend into the monotony of a composite body, a sea of plankton in an ocean of delusion, wafting – waving with the tides, eyes closed.
Or not.
2 comments:
I read this over and over... knowing that something, some profound event or series of events brought these words from your heart. But as is the case with true, heartfelt writing, it touches someone else profoundly as well.
Thank you for writing something that touched me.
Thanks Kim. It's about my family, I grew up really close to my cousins, and we've all become so different as time has passed. The coin cyclone was a donation collector at McDonald's when I was a kid. :)
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