That Doubting

"I'm sick of following my dreams. I'm just going to ask them where they're going and hook up with them later." - Mitch Hedberg

It seems a part of my life patten that I enter these times of doubt and disillusionment. Today is one of those moments in my exisitance when I wonder if I may have gotten it all wrong. For all my effort, my life lacks consistency of quality. I have so much that is past, gone, opportunity lost. The former dreams of brillant living and rampant vitality that bounced ever alluring before me have faded to embers, memories of passion.

My thoughts remind me that this life is not so much about what was, or even about what could be, but about now...the finite pieces of today that contain the life's shining joys and tender embraces. My thoughts, my mind knows this truth. My passion does not.

And even here, in this post, am I not so blantantly begging for some kind and corrective assurance? How sad.

Where are you, my dreams?
What thief has escaped in the night with you, my muse?
Stolen, lost, none but wisps remain of thee.

I ache, long, empty shell
For what is a man without you?
What favor my he find but for thy caresses?

Return.
Please.
I am lost.

Welcome Spring Aubade!

This morning the sky shouted the arrival of spring.





YES!

These Walls

These walls, these cascading rocks of harden earth, earthen toned history revealing centuries of the never ending dance between water and stone, hold me in awe. Is not this chasm grand in span and even grander yet in spirit, for it calls not only for all that the body can give it while every muscle screams for relief and each sinew claims finality, this brilliant abyss wants for the release of more, the conquest of ones very being, the devouring of all spirit and, yes even, the self. Give to it this, this measure of your existence, all body and spirit and therein, perhaps therein, weary traveler of this land, you might just discover more of who you are, or more complete still, you and I may just become more, more complete, more wonder-full. These walls can caress the very earthen vessel of humanity and breathe again into us, a vital wisp of that delicate mixture of earth and water and their waltz of eternity.

Note: penned after Hiking in the Grand Canyon las month.

Rising

Against the darkness, the mire of slumber I move.

My mind wavers, questions the insanity of it all. "Why not wait. Skip today,"

I think. To lift these libs of lead seems too great an effort, much less to get up and exercise. Here lies my simple, quiet quest: To be fit, to reduce my chance of early death, to demand that my body live, forcing blood and breath to surge through my very being, cleansing and renewing me for another day. Brush aside this simple choice if you will, and in such discounting might I join you another day, but today, I rise victorious.

Today this slain foe of apathy and sloth rest lifeless at my feet.

Enough melodrama. Good morning

Current Emotional Barameter Reading

"...Sometimes it's like someone took a knife baby,
Edgy and dull and cut a six-inch valley
Through the middle of my soul..."

-Bruce Spingsteen