Time and Light Switches

Haunted by memories upon every new corner turned. Beauty and tragedy never stray far from one another and neither does remembrance stray from me. I am haunted by all that I have done and all I have not yet become. I spend days seeing new sights and all that sticks to me is the consuming feeling, I’ve been here before, seen this before, lived this before.   I walk the halls of my high school while I see the newness of a small American town. I step upon the cracks of the old city of Jerusalem while I ride through a crowded city new to me. Then I see the hills of a country I’ve never been and wish for more wonder than I can grasp.  My mind was not made for this world. Of that I am partially convinced. Time and all it wilds has no sense or reason or meaning inside the confines of my woefully romantic mind.  I am trapped and stuck and doomed to relive every decision I have ever dared to make. I can feel the dust of the old city still cling to my skin, it permeates my ver...

As my extended trip races towards its end I find myself mourning. Mourning for all that it has been and all that I must now return to. Now hear me, I am more hopeful for the future than I have ever known, but with change comes mourning. So this-morning I’ve sat weeping because nothing will ever be like this again. This day is all there is, tomorrow is surly different. I for one am not ready for the sun to set on me once again.   What to do when your heart is pulled in two opposite directions, when the love flows both ways. It is no easy answer, nor black nor white, no right or wrong exists, it is simply love moving left and right. I’ve yet to see the solution to my predicament, only that I continue on and have hope. If that’s all there is I must cling to hope and let it wash me down the river.  I’m not ready, yet I take the next step because that’s all there is. There’s no more waiting around. And yesterday that felt like sweet victory, felt like great revelation. And toda...

the ocean is a friend from childhood wonder and wild joy are its gifts  the trees are the old and wise guardians  comfort and peace are their strengths  the wild is safer than the tamed  at least it howls before striking  I know all this to be true. My oldest memories are of the white sand beaches  near my childhood home. I know this to be true, when my heart became too much I ran to the trees to feel at home once again.  I know this to be true. Because the wild never hurt me as much as some left me.  Some days it is clear indeed that I never grew out of being a child running through the grass. And some days still  it is hard to not want  to return to the simpler time. But the world does keep on spinning and the ocean remains blue and the tress are still wise.  So I suppose  today will be okay.

One hundred. When your young 100 feels like an impossible number, like an unreachable height. It feels like an accomplishment you won’t reach till you’re 40. But it’s just a number and slowly as we all grow older than the year before 100 starts to mean getting older and slower and sicker.   Today 100 marks the number of total blog posts I’ve made. And because I’ve lived the life I have and walked through the fire I have every milestone, every accomplishment big or small, feels like something I never thought I’d reach. Feels like a life I didn’t think I’d get to live.  So to me celebration is important, it’s a need. And I will not cease to be thankful for the goodness I’ve found, the goodness I have been shown.  As I’ve said before writing started out as a lifeline, a way to maintain or seek some sanity. In a way that hasn’t changed, in this time of change and mess it has remained my only source of stability and that in and of itself has been a lifeline. I’ve had a l...