Sometimes life expects us to make confessionals. My list happens to be growing as I recollect events that I am sorry for. For instance, in the midst of my grief, shortly after learning my brother John had taken his life, I stole a plant. A flowering plant at a local grocery store. The reasoning being I had always walked the straight and narrow and while my anger was bubbling up, I lashed out in order to inflict hurt on the world I once loved. I struck back at the heart of existence.
This is the sun setting over the huge rock in my yard. Hell, the rock is a small hill you have to climb and there is a perfect practice 20-25′ (7.6 meter) straight ascent to the top. The other side has ledges and you can scale it without rope. It is rather easy, with wonderful pockets of moss and mushrooms and wildflowers. Once at the top, you can watch the sunset over Mount Wachusett.
The mountains in Massachusetts are fairly easy to scale. Ive climbed two so far. Mount Wachusett is 2005′ (611 meters) and Lenox Mountain 2,126′ (648 meters).
To carve in stone
the next year planned
hike the Appalachian
Berkshires of Massachusetts
exists deep in the psyche
find my impetous
climb higher than ever
the answers lie somewhere.
Please read to the end, even if you are not in the mood to be cheery!!!! I truly care for you…
🌟 Possibilities exist in every shiny thought.
Never allow yourself to be squared in to a corner without a circle. Be adVenturous! Find a star and start running.
Even if it takes a lifetime to catch your star, realize you will have lived a full life chasing it.
Don’t pay attention to your neighbor’s faults. Work on your own. Once you realize no one is perfect, you will find inner peace exists.
Turn the other cheek. Forgive. Love. Move on. If your enemies follow you, hooray. And if they disappear, too bad they missed out living life along with you. Hopefully, and i sincerely mean this, i pray everyone can discover and name their own star to chase.
Just never stop chasing your star once you find and name it! 🌟 J
(I do not write this lightly. I have been depressed and suicidal. It has taken 50 years to reach my pinnacle. I have swam through snake infested waters, mosquito-riddled forests and felt unloved by the very people who should have helped me in life. I get the pessimist. I was one. Life seems to be turning for the good and i rejoice that i endured and can speak hope today. If you turn from this post because your hurting, reach out. There are people who care! I pray you find your star!)
Church is poetry. Poetry is life. A life well lived.
Like Dicken’s “Tale of Two Cities” I have lived a tale of polar opposites. I have known a dark night of the soul and the fresh morning dew of enlightenment.
No memories can ever be forgotten but they can be forgiven. And the forgiveness allows me to wake up and be grateful for everything. Even the memories that still cause sharp pains. Those are the memories that led me to despair and wrestle in a black, plastic garbage bag until I finally took the knife, I once used against myself, and started cutting open breathing holes.
So what has been going on? So much!!! Sitting under a poetry mentor. Restructuring old poetry and finding myself. Taking piano lessons. Working on Mozart and Tchaikovsky pieces.
I start a new volunteer position in a women’s homeless shelter directing an art therapy group in mid-June. After i take a solo travel trip to Nantucket.
The daily weather is cooperating so tending to my new garden in Harvard Massachusetts. It has been almost a year that we moved to the Boston area. Busy picking up sticks winter strewn about the yard and wondering where to station a summer writing cabin. The best of my days are spent sitting atop prospect hill, watching the sunsets.
I hope to be able to spend more time here at WP. I do hope.
Well… you and i made it to experience another year on earth. I hope the approaching 365 days is good to you… full to the brim with positive thoughts, new adventures, reinforced friendships, old and new, with plenty of time spent writing and working on your craft. Or perhaps experimenting with a new method of expressing yourself. In short, here is to a creative 2019 of souling!
I haven’t been reading much blog posts. I find in my depressed moods i can barely emerge from my cocoon… and anxiety is worse to try and read.
Is it selfish to wonder if others are reading me? Heck, i rebel against these letters. Yet, they some how keep the union strong. Unite against me. Bond. The New Army Brigade, 26 letters strong.
They force the issue. I retreat. They win the argument… A thought is but a rain cloud pouring down angst against me. The evidence sufficient to imprison me for years. And the nervous out pouring brings the show curtain down. Behind-the-scenes i dance. The music puts pen to paper, to recite the days events.
I need to rest. I know. But a thinking mind rarely obeys. And so i bore you with my show.
Guess we are even. I am bored by you too. So lets be bored together.