Time and Light Switches

It is weird to be calm in the midst of a storm. It can make one feel somewhat crazy or seem to be in-denial. To see all the rocks and road spiralling around crashing into one another. To feel the wind rip and tear as though a monster. To be calm when the whole world is screaming war is to be truly at peace.   It looks so strange to see the battle coming and then simply sit down. See it and say well looks to be the time for a lie down. The battle is raging and yet the eye of the storm never ceases to leave the place where peace has surpassed all understanding.  Peace, it has no form, no taste, no smell. And yet peace is more valuable than gold. It can not be held in the palm of a hand and can not be taken away forcibly. It can be given away, however why that would ever be willingly done seems absurd.  Someone once said something to the effect that, if you are without peace how can you rest. It is a good question indeed, how can one rest, sleep, without peace. What is ...

Coming to the end of ones self is seldom an easy or enjoyable experience. I often arrive there weeping and maybe even a little bloody. That place at the end of myself is many times the place where I am most willing to be taught. I’ve set up camp only but a few miles from there. I have yet to discover if the close proximity creates excuse to break down or if it creates permission to break. There are times where I am lead to that place so I might recognize God. But there are instances where I have willing walked into mine own pain just to see if it still felt the same. For pain and I have a deeply trouble past and pain is the closest I’ve come to addiction in this life.  The place at the end of myself is stuck in a time darker than dusk and yet not brighter than dawn. It is somewhere between fog and smoke and doesn’t quite smell right. Maybe it’s the tears, maybe it’s the blood but it never looks quite the same the next time around.  There is another occurrence I have happe...

It has been a time of questions and answers. And answers that only lead to more questions. The answers never seem to have an action in mind. How incredibly frustrating.   Anger was once thought to be evil. Now it’s a simmering emotion with nowhere to go. Breaking things and causing chaos isn’t the answer but it once was. This now raging steam has nowhere to go and will soon become too much for the space that it resides.  There is so much and yet so little. It is easy to be happy. It is easy to be sad. It is hard to be angry.  Being angry is more vulnerable than being sad. Because people won’t kick you if your down but being angry isn’t seen as down. Being angry is being red raw open to the world. It’s not knowing whether to keep running with arms thrown wide or to hide in cave far far away.  Questions need not be large to rattle ones cage. There simply must be many. They weigh heavy on the heart and clutter the mind. Questions will always lead somewhere, howe...

There are times when I want to start over, in a far away city, in a far away place. To just make a simple living. There are days when it feels like it would be easier to leave for a home in the woods and fade into legend.   The part of me that wishes to be hurt by people no more wants to give up and exist only within solitude. It feels like it would be so much easier.  But I love people much more than I’ll ever be able to admit. And I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing that I hurt people in my leaving. I just don’t want to be hurt anymore. I don’t want it to feels so hard.  The weight of exception and responsibility can make one feel like Atlas. It’s why we need people. Why we need God. We were never meant to carry it all alone. We were never meant to carry more than our cross. But sometimes even that feels too heavy.  When those days are upon me I know nothing else to do; other than weep and not deny the weight it’s right of existence. I let it set...