Shadow – Lessons from a dark friend

“Every man casts a shadow; not his body only, but his imperfectly mingled spirit. This is his grief. Let him turn which way he will, it falls opposite to the sun; short at noon, long at eve. Did you never see it?”Henry David Thoreau  

tihku

It is an image unlike any living visage, stretching further, a distortion that discerns reality. This is the shadow. The position of light influences the distortion of it, happening without my conscious decision. My only control is where I place myself in reference to the light. What is the light that I stand in? Where will this light strike me? This determines the length and breadth of my darkened friend. If run from that light I find darkness with every step. When I face the light, my path lit with comforting revelation. it’s discouraging at first, to see my faults and missteps in the glaring brightness, but it’s comforting to find that at least I am dealing with reality. This reality is always harsh, but it provides facts that help me to face change.

It’s a difficult and unnerving venture into light’s reality. There are benefits though. I can see farther down my path to the repercussions of my actions. This brings hope. Hope allows me to take bolder steps into the light. It is not for me to know my faults and shrink back in fear, but to grapple my choices, both those that are made in the past and those being made at the moment, discerning them and learning. 
Learning can happen without having to experience the actions contemplated. Watching my fellow companions walk in the light, or walking away, brings an illustration to my lessons. In either case, light is important. When walking away, the light shows the way back. When walking into it, it shows the way to stay in it. Come my shadow, let me watch you carefully, letting your blackened representation be a guide to the truth and bringing assurance of my direction. 

Also published in Broowaha Magazine

Wisdom’s Seven Pillars – Pillar #7 A Higher Source

“Wisdom has built her house, she has carved out her seven pillars:” Proverbs 9:1. The aim of this series is to present a non-cliche, non-religious point of view of wisdom. I do subscribe to some religious interpretations of the subjects addressed, but wish to here, only point out the common understanding of the principles.”

Pillar #7 A Higher Source

On the mountains of truth you can never climb in vain: either you will reach a point higher up today, or you will be training your powers so that you will be able to climb higher tomorrow.”

Each of us is born with the potential for the unfolding of our true self. When you deviate from the truth, you are interfering with the intention of something greater than you are – call it nature or a higher power. As a result, you develop discomfort.”
– Unknown

Abstaining from religious cliche’s and forms makes describing this last pillar difficult. The idea is that wisdom must have a source, greater than itself to appeal to. Some call it a “higher power”, a philosophy, a teacher, a leader, or any number of nomenclatures, all referring to the idea that someone or something has the power to inspire me beyond egocentricity. Isolation cannot be tolerated, though it is useful for growth, wisdom must be exercised in real life scenarios. I can be wise on my own, but let an argument start between my brother and I, and watch as the heat of emotion finds the weaknesses of my solitude. The two must work together, wisdom hammered out on my own, but submitted to another higher source, tested outside of my safe zone. A higher source exists, it behooves you to find it, appeal to it, and listen to it.

Lover – A Passion With Words

“No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader. No surprise in the writer, no surprise in the reader.” Robert Frost

A reblogged post from Descending Ascension

loveendlesslyforevermore

My lover draws twine and yarn past my lips.

Threading words through my mind.
Coiling and winding ‘round my neck,
only letting pass words of breadth
My lover lets me liken glass to diamonds,
and forget the time.
Passionate and gentle.
Pulling me into a feverish passion.
Stopping my breath with a single word,
a simple phrase,
a quiet truth,
my lover knows how to look past my ruse.
Each passing moment is spent filled with the emotions evoked by such passions
Turmoil,
Desire,
Sorrow,
Joy.
Caressing me.
Tenderly kissing 
every page of my body.
Sighing my verse.
Let me write our love.
Demanding no physical touch.
Merely heartfelt words,
restraining our touch 
only to be released through the words on this page.
You understand this is my love.
My writings are my lover,
and I it’s suitor.
-R.S.L.S

Reluctantly Crouched At the Starting Line

The following article was written by a good friend and fellow blogger, Joey Flowers. Enjoy.
Honestly, there were SO many emotions running through me when my situation started. And at times those emotions do resurface. It happens to all of us. One of those emotions was fear. Fear of what was going to happen. Fear of the uncertain future. Fear that I wasn’t going to make it. But with time, I began to be less fearful, and more optimistic. Sure, there still is uncertainty, but sometimes we just have to play it by ear, and take it as it comes. We can’t let fear, or reluctance take over. We need to take the first step in order to advance.
When you think about it, I guess it’s our “survival” instinct that kicks in when we become scared and uncertain. We hesitate, and eventually stall. We need to learn that even when things are not in our favor, or it looks difficult and the odds are stacked against us, we need to get ready, and race to where we want to be.
“Audacity augments courage; hesitation, fear”. – Publilius Syrus

Published in The Ballad Of Joey Flowers

Traces – Trails left behind

“Do not go where the path may lead; go instead where there is no path 
and leave a trail”Ralph Waldo Emerson
Hungry dirt records my passage
Fading trails showing, 
I was here
Homes I left in a hurry
Leaves dropped
when I scurried
Nature’s bones scattered around
Seeds haplessly planted
Bring unexpected life
08122011

 

The First Rung

“The first step, my son, which one makes in the world, is the one on which depends the rest of our days.” – Voltaire
 

 

Reaching up from this muddy pit

My hands find the first rung
I’m not letting go of it, my feet still stuck
Screaming at the top of my lungs
From this first rung on the ladder
I will not be thrown
Everything in me yelling, you can’t do it
Everyone around me laughing at my attempts
No comfort, no friends when your down this low
The first rung is all you have
Yet I climb, slapping for the next rung, I will ascend
Out of this frothing mire
I will not let go, beaten down time by time
I find myself alone, beginning again
I shake myself from my own doubt
Now I find myself afraid to succeed
What will be required of me?
No more easy carefree existence
The struggle becomes necessary to stay on the ladder.
At the bottom, swimming aimlessly in the lost masses
Who cares what you do?
As you climb out, everyone looks at you, they are encouraged by your rebellion
To climb out of their own mess, to take the challenge of living again.
This first rung, the hardest, taking the most courage to live beyond
The lies spoken to you from those in your youth, and by your lovers
Who are no longer there.
Discomfort at having to leave your habits, your friends.
Not everyone will follow you up,
Most times, no one will.
You will have to meet those who are climbing on your way up.
You see they left the mire long ago,
Every now and then glancing back to see the despair
Which they escaped so narrowly.
So I cling, to this first rung, by tenacity, hard to define

This first rung is life, this first rung is mine.

Also published in:  Broowaha
Also published in:  Life As A Human 
 

 

My Small Things – Protect your dreams

“Yes: I am a dreamer. For a dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.” 

 

My small things I protect from harm
If I lost them, I’d lose my charm.
I have all I’m going to be,
All contained within their deep sea.
Their not fragile, a well known fact.
If you shake them, they’ll fight back.
Strange they have a life of their own.
When I give them my faith, my power on loan.
The return for me is great,
A small price to accommodate.
They are small but it seems
Everyone cherishes their dreams.
02202011