The Dream

To dream, perhaps to live wholly. Dare I? Is the dream as valid as the life? I turn to you for answers, as always.

Is the world's view of reality more significant than the ability to dream? Is it right for that view to invalidate my own perception of how things could, should or would be?

I want a life where I can make a decision based on what I feel. Not the ghosts of persons past nor the illusion of acceptance of those present. I want a life where I am as important as I deem the next person. I want to be the priority in my own life while keeping ever in mind that others are still as important as they have always been. I just want to matter... to myself.

And so I dream...
of futures happy,
of untamed feelings,
of unrestrained love.

And I look forward, not back, to a time not so distant where the integration of the whole is the completed task.

And so I bid you sweet farewell. I need to go to nurture and water my dream.

An Incandescent Life

in-can-des'-cent - Emitting visible light as a result of being heated. Shining brilliantly; very bright. Characterized by ardent emotion, intensity, or brilliance.

I turn the key in the door and hear the distinct clunk of the deadbolt relieving itself from its duty. I turn the knob, walk in, close and lock the door behind me. I unconsciously number my steps toward the opposite wall to find the light switch. My shin catches the corner of the coffee table. Ow! That's the only purpose the shin has in life: to find furniture in the dark. I Ooo and Ahh until my hand finds the switch. And suddenly there is light! I think no more about it and go on about my business.

Hours later I am just coming to from a nap and my eyes seem transfixed on the light switch. I follow what, in my head, seems to be a path to the overhead light. I think, "There must be wiring behind that wall." It's the beginning. I let that idea 'cook' for a few days.

I sit here now, just wondering. What heats the mind? What makes some people just glow? What is the fuel that makes someone create a work of art or that spurs on the search for new medical cures or even the meaning of life itself? And then my mind drifts.

If an incandescent light bulb is powered by the wattage flowing through it, what makes the electrical impulses in our own bodies? The light bulb is connected to a power source. What are we connected to? Something must power us. My mind drifts again. It's all right. It does that a lot.

SCUBA gear maintains and guarantees our survival in the water. The name SCUBA itself is the acronym for what the device is: self-contained, underwater, breathing apparatus. No, no, that's just for surviving. I want to know what powers us. And I picture myself far, far away on some remote island snorkeling and just having fun. Ah yes, that would be fun. There I go drifting again.

I wonder if other people are in a constant state of questioning the world around them like I am. What makes that thing work like that? What's the difference between me and you really? What causes sickness in some and yet not in others? What's it really all about anyway, Alfie? I drift off again thinking about wattage as the power source.

What makes some people succeed and others fail? What drives a person to nearly complete a task only to give up when they have almost hit the home run? More accurately, what is the reason for giving up? Ahhh! Maybe the wattage is used up, I think. No power, no brightness.

Did you ever notice how much more alive you feel when you think you matter? Did you ever realize that the bigger the challenge, the more you have to search for answers? Could it be that simple? That we are powered by what drives us? That it really is the wattage after all? Not in the electrical sense. Not even spelled the same. For light bulbs it's wattage. For humans it's what-age.

We 'burn' with desire for answers. Answers to our problems, to our hopes, to our dreams. Well, as long as we keep striving for them, that is. We have our own incandescence that shows when we are joyfully pursuing that which feeds our souls. Creativity spawns more creativity. But turn off the questions and the incandescence fizzles.

I drift in hopes that i give off light. For once, I like my what-age. All those questions seem so meaningful now. Maybe if I'm lucky I will stumble upon an answer or two along the way too.

An incandescent life. Wouldn't that be a legacy to pass on? I've go to go. There's so much drifting to do.

This Too Shall Pass Away

Have you ever noticed how people seem to drift in and out of your life?

I'm sure it isn't planned. But people's lives take twists and turns and soon we can find ourselves with a whole new set of friends than we once had.

Some visits in our lives are exactly that, just visits. We interact for a brief time and then the person is on their way to wherever their life leads them. I believe they come to help me learn a lesson. Only they could get the point across. And then as quickly as they appeared... poooof!... they are gone.

Others come and stay our whole lives. Those few are rare indeed. Those people are the support we need in bad times and the laughter that spurs us on in the good ones. They are our rocks.

Remember the Pet Rock? It was a novel idea and millions were sold. Simple decorated rocks. It was amazing that people would buy them. Perhaps inside themselves they saw a need for a rock in their lives. Maybe they felt the yearning that only true friendship or kinship can provide.

I'd like to think that those who pass quickly through our lives are like pebbles. Yes the larger rocks form a good foundation, but the gravel is the fill we need to cement the character we find in our lessons.

Are you a rock? Or are you filler? It makes no difference really. For each life we touch or that touches us matters. It can be brief or lasting. They all have their value. Embrace those in your life. Tell them what they mean to you. All too soon this too shall pass.

Yin and Yang

I've always been a big believer in the old saying 'What goes around, comes around.' To me it seems like the only pure form of justice there is in this world.

But I am human too which means that most times I am sailing the Sea of Forgetfulness. (I refuse to admit age is catching up with me.) And so while I would like to think I have my ducks in a row, more often than not I am in that anatomically impossible pose that allows everyone else to see exactly how uninformed I am; which reminds me, I need to call an electrician to do something about the lighting in there.

In my denial or naivety of certain in alienable truths, friends have often pointed out to me that my listening is 'selective' and my responses wouldn't even qualify as juvenile in true sense of the word. I laugh out loud and protest even louder. "I know myself far better than they ever would," I think.

And then I find myself at 3 a.m. tossing and turning, mind all a-twitter over what I have deemed half-truths and fairy tales, infuriated that they are depriving me of my much-needed beauty sleep. (Hey... no kidding! I can no longer afford to skimp on that!)

And so I find myself in front of the computer screen writing to find the answers to my inner turmoil, hoping upon hope that my friends aren't right and that I don't have to schedule time for apologies because I was too stubborn to listen once again.

The cat takes up residence in my lap and I hear the clicking of the keys and feel the rain falling from my eyes. And there, in the middle of the screen is the answer to the sleeplessness.

All I can think is, "Oh bruthuh, it's going to be one of those days tomorrow." I know I will have to do some damage control and eat my words. You would think I'd be used to it by now, but I'm not. Nasty diet anyway.

I wonder.... Is this payback in the grand scheme of things? I think so. It's part of that old yin-yang thing. It's probably about that time I glued the teacher's book to her chair. I just know it! Ah yes, justice comes full circle.