a prayer to know when is the time to surrender to life when is the time to conquer this life and to then know and tend the vast grounds between
a prayer for the small birds whose confidence I can not seem to garner for may they find what they need in this coming barren season although there is no need for I see them every spring
notes… for those who might be new to peruse my blog, I use ‘prayer’ in the non religious sense, if you want to use it in the religious sense, cool, I have no problem with that, I think everyone looks to the sky at some point and asks for something sometime, I was an atheist once upon a time but these days I want to believe there is something else but have to accept the possibility there is nothing and I will simply disappear from all existence when I am gone, there is no hope in that end, so I choose hope over logic in that regard, does it quell my mind and fears ? no… but it is better than utter despair, so that is where I am at, prayer is not a harmful thing, try not to make it selfish, I think that is the right ring… (and I do post other ‘prayer’ works, check out my collections & series page).
what if…you could meet god (in whatever fashion, design, form or belief you believe in), and could make a deal where every time your physical body dies you would be reincarnated as another sentient humanoid (or close thereof) being – therefore never truly dying forever, the catch? you will have no memory of the previous being but you will persist, in some form, forever, on various planets (in the sheer vastness of this universe – or perhaps another) or wherever this god creation cares to place you on. So, in a sense you guaranty your survival, but you lose this, this you, your individuality and awareness. Do you make the deal ? or maybe you have made it already… Is losing your individual nature, this collection of things (experience mixed with your time), is this just death dressed up in just another coat ?
I must admit I find myself pondering my mortality probably more than I should, I mean, after all it is life’s most vexing question is it not? I have not found a sufficient solution in the house of religion, and frankly religion is certainly created by man, most surely fallible but not guaranteed wrong (if religion works for you, awesome, I have absolutely no problem with that, and perhaps I might be jealous of your relief/belief at the end of the day), I am certainly not an atheist but the possibility that we are just a random creation from a pool of physical laws, unfortunately, I can not dismiss that entirely, I just don’t know, I do not have the answers, and I doubt I might ever find one satisfactory (although I must admit I hope I am wrong on that count). E=mc^2 I must say this always felt like a glimmer of hope for me, a scientific raft in the sea of the unknown as it were, The Law of the Conservation of Mass, so therefore I will never disappear fully in that sense, if that makes sense, there will always be a part of the universe that is me, but will it be ‘me’? it is a bit daunting to ponder but if one of the basic laws of physics is a start on this path maybe I can approach god and broker a deal for some reincarnation… just what type is where the bargaining might have to begin… but if there truly is a god (and I hope there is), god will already know my price forthwith, and outwit me in such negotiations.
one tall reed looms so far above one tall reed looking on down all below one tall reed but all alone
note…. literally looked outside my car window and saw one reed towering above the others, the words came in a wave from the muse, so I wrote them… let nature speak to you, she has a few things to say, and the wisdom of years to wait…
how the familiar slips back on in such familiar ways, I am fighting the dread that I can feel creeping up my spine, to dive back into that 9-5, well, 9-5 on an easy day, the honking horns, the stop and forth commute, I want to remain like this, like a coil unfurled, springs hold and maintain tension, and I am good at managing that existence but the fatigue of constant bearing weight has perhaps been wearing me down these years, and only now, off a week of down time might I realize how unfurled I am now and how curled I am usually so inclined, I know it is cliche, to say a place is magical, but what is magic after all, something we don’t understand completely, maybe a better word is ‘solution’ as if to a puzzle, Scientist Cliffs is one of those places for me, maybe many others exist but that does not mean this was not meant to be, maybe this is like true love found just with a place with a soul for mine to meet, here, indeed, my mind was not lost navigating in the constant maze of problem solving, so lovingly overwhelmed as is my normal state of being, I would revel in the chaos, but at what cost? here, but here, quite quiet in fact, content to sit on a beach, listen to the waves gently crashing caressing the sands, watching the birds of prey hunting above the cliffs far overhead, studying the breeze as it caresses over the dunes and past me, just another piece of the earth to navigate around, I watch the dune grass bend back and sway and imagine I am doing the same, just an observer, and the waves, the constant, the waves, for whatever reason, this is the solution to my conundrums, my elixir distilled, that lets my fury of thoughts fade into simpler terms, no less complex but not a lightning nexus of constant bombardment, a quietness there, one I can internalize with each long breath and each slowing heart beat…
up on the cliffs, since there are no cities nearby, the night sky is alive, the moon dancing on the silent water waves some hundred feet below, upwards, galaxy dust and all the traditional constellations glowing, resplendent, the wonders above we rarely see with a naked eye in metropolitan new jersey, like all things this is indeed a temporary place, the constant grinding of the waves never ending erodes the cliffs, every year, inches to feet, the cliffs creep inward and with time will swallow whole, this place, probably long after I am gone, but I will have been a part of it at least, and I hope to take a part of it with me into the real world, at least the real world I inhabit on a day to day, so that is what I am trying to take away, as I return to my normal place, the workplace, that same space, how long can I maintain, how long will the echoes of the surf remain, so clear, so cleansing, so pure…
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notes… back from vacation, I am really into nature when I am out there so I was more quiet than usual, I loaded up a bunch of videos to my somewhat now decent Youtube account, I really want people to get a feel for Calvert County Maryland, wonderful place, I am not ahead of the curve, towns around this area seem to be exploding, and it is not too far from Washington DC, and also Solomons Island which is a resort in the summer (so I am told, I have never been). If you have any questions about the area, how to access it or anything, I’m game, just ask, I don’t post to hide things, I post to reveal them to all and every who might have interest or be of the same mind…. I will write more about Scientist Cliffs coming up, just a really unique place…
so here I am, admiring the moon across the water, shimmering sections of the bay hold my attention, I come back here every year, laziness, familiarity, perhaps, maybe I have found something that suits me, my personality, having the experience of being in the middle of nowhere but yet with slingTV, cable internet and a Starbucks fifteen minutes away, sure, that’s fair, but I am off the beaten path, even if that path is not but a stone’s throw away, the familiarity lets me decompress, the guess and the guess work has been removed, there is still plenty I could do or explore in these parts, just as in my own state there are corners and nooks I have yet to really route around in, I suppose I revel in the strange juxtaposition of this place, the cliffs produce fossils from the miocene era quite often, I am staying in a hand built 100 year old log cabin, and I am sitting here typing on my dumbly suped up alienware laptop, whittling away at the meaning of life or at least mine, it all seems pretentious, sometimes I feel guilty, do I deserve this? do I feel guilt due to circumstance? perhaps, but how can we change the circumstance of how we are brought in to this world, all we can do is be empathetic, I say those words, but I do not know if I believe them 100%, although I should, the truth does not always set you free, maybe like many things I must practice in this, allowing myself to uncoil and feel able to embrace my life such as it is, I did not wrong anyone to have the things I have, maybe the world did, but I do not want to have blind thankfulness to that end, but tonight should not be about such things, I need to clear my mind, feel the subtle gentle wisp of wind, cold dew on the bottom of my feet, I have to decompress, let all the stress from work seep out into the ground, let the moon’s light cleanse me as I lose myself in those ripples down on the bay, soak up each moment and forget myself for a time, deep exhale, the world moves on regardless, this is my time to become lost, for a few days, not quite separated from the race, but enough to recharge and renew, it all begins with the view, and the immediate effect I feel…
you can check out the views of Scientist Cliffs on my YouTube channel, I am uploading the moon vid right now, it is taking some time, I should be posting some nice vids this week from my new 4K go pro style cam… or at least that is the plan…
oh for one solemn wish I pine for the days of pangea one continent one land no language in the absence of man no war to conquer no death to divide one continent one land
notes… just something that came to me, all of the earth, well, that above the oceans was once just one land mass, so it seems division is natural… but yet unity was the original model… juxtaposition I say ! as we were all in the womb we all meet the grave, so keep that as a keepsake in your mind’s pocket, and like a locket look upon the wisdom as a reminder when you can… that perfect picture, a perfect unified land…
thoughts, likes, comments, spam, bot activity, russian dating site links…. are all appreciated, as well as your time for stopping by with those eyes, those peepers, so…. thanks people, without the lot of you I am letters on the wind.
I want to run up that ruby lined ridge line on the back of that mountain of a cloud, right up to the moon, I wish to go there but know I never will, but how soon my romantic side forgets, the moon, sitting there framed in blue, is not quite in our sky, my logical side steps in to remind that the moon is in perfect orbit, locked in the cold black breathless death of space, a dead world, echoes of impacts heard in countless lifeless craters, traces of history of billions of years as if transpired just yesterday, as magical, as mystical as the moon may seem, the man, the moon, the dream, it is the dead end of all being, and what will be, for when life retreats or is drawn to another place, a lifeless husk will remain, dust, gravity no longer caring, losing it’s grip, so weak it becomes just a globe in another’s collection, so which do I choose? of my dual nature I lean to the romanticism of the world, the concept of the eternal, but there is that constant reminder in the sky, whether a sliver, a quarter or full glory, the fact that everything dies is not much consolation for the living, more like a rationalization that we all drive down that dead end road, logic is cold, hard to argue with a stone as words do not carve granite well, or at all, but I suppose what choice do I have but to drive on, forward, with hope, for the alternative, while more rational, more reasoned, more probable, leaves nothing on the bone and in fact no bones… at all.
music? I can not resist, I am a child of the late 80’s after all… so…
oh yeah, this post is part of The Porch Project which has no rules aside from me sitting out on the porch, days of the week? month? nah… just when I can, and thanks for stopping by, this little bus stop of my mind, I appreciate the time and eyes…. thanks.
“tell me, tell me of the moon a paramour who never moves closer always always remains at a distance remains always at arm’s length”
notes… I was listening to this (Cellar Darling – Rebels) and these words popped into my head as they often do, I suppose I was playing with words, and repetition on purpose as we all tend to do the same things so often, myself included, breaking the mold I guess is a habit, one I do not have quite down, quite yet, but I endeavor the goal, I endeavor it so, so I depart in that direction even when sometimes lost…
there are these moments, tiny flakes of time space, hours of days, one of these, these times when I feel like I am living in past tense, moments that have happened before seem intensely ‘now’, or directly directing the now, overwhelmingly, a feeling floods me as if I have been running in place for years waiting for the past to change, or worse yet sitting in place as the world spins around me, past me, passing by, waiting for something, something that will never come, and the ability to rewrite – a wrong…
Photo by K Zoltan on Pexels.com
the day started out so nicely, with the starch definitely taken out of summer, a cool morning, barely 70 degrees, mail order blue sky, someone must have paid to have all the clouds removed for there are none, at least for now, the sun is warming instead of broiling, a barely noticeable ball playing hide and seek in between the full taller trees behind the house, everything is green, with a little tired at the edges brown, I take a moment to look around, take it all in as it were, mornings like these, makes you want to be rich beyond your wildest dreams so you could just stop, stay in place and experience every ounce, then, with your hands squeeze-twist the very confines of time to get every last drop out, but, like most of us, most of any who have ever walked this earth, I have to take what I can take, in this fleeting passing moment, with a shallow deep breath I take in what I can, trying to commit to memory this little slice of near perfection for later recall, knowing soon enough I will be back in the reality of the race, the pace, cars lining up like ants in an artery, all with our destinations and routines, all under the umbrella of such a perfect day, bills to pay, obligations to meet.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
so I am driving, the traffic is a bit lighter today, you never know when a holiday approaches how said holiday will encroach on your day, so perhaps my mind is off in another place, not distracted by the constant foot race to my brakes and then go stop go stop base routine, I wonder about things, the circumstances of a life, if they would have changed, would I be right here now wondering the same? these are times I wish my memories were not so vivid or clear, or perhaps to be so vapid as to not care, maybe ignorance is bliss, but I can not know of this, I wish for amnesia, will I be happy… or just unaware? I try and tell myself, comfort myself, convince myself, that I would rather have full awareness, to have clarion clarity, but at once I might still want to be an ostrich, and bury my head in the sands of time, how my life might have been different if this or that, the mental exercise, the gymnastics of a foolish mind and lost heart, and her, would we have changed our opinion on having children, and where has all the time gone as that decision now seems past any comprehension or contemplation… from where I am situated I do not remember the sand escaping my palms, slipping from my grasp if I grasped at all, blown scattered by the winds to the four corners of no recompense, and my hands feel empty, youth is fullness, youth is an overgrown garden of possibility inculcated with weeds, and as the years go, some flowers die, others are planted, some bushes manicured, others upgraded to fancier exotics, and not so suddenly the once wild jungle of opportunity has been whittled down quite nicely, quite on purpose, with purpose, at least at the time, no longer allowed to grow wild, everything has order now, the paving stones, the path all neatly appointed, and I look back, am I satisfied with what I have? or who I am? but there is no magic elixir in the face of time, no amount of thought or determination can catch even a second in a bottle, or snare a minute in a net, my thoughts seem shackled by the past, tension on the chains, my own doing, but there is no instructions how to steer this ship, how to set the sails of life into the headwinds of success, for as I cross the trade-routes and circumnavigate, like the great explorers, I come to know, to sail around, this earthly globe, I arrive back here, in past tense, all the same, but years now spent.
Music to read by… (when will you just trust me and click the links?)
Shades of My Garden 