Journal: A Beast of Burden

I’m trying to stay conscious of myself, aware of my disposition and how it shapes my world. Today I found myself wanting to mutter the F word a lot. I was faced with an unexpected and altogether unnecessary workload due to a vendor I work with enforcing a new policy. In short, I spent aboutContinue reading “Journal: A Beast of Burden”

Journal: Green Pastures, and The Storybook

Below, at the bottom of this entry, is an entry I began writing before publishing, Past Reconciled: Future Reclaimed; however, it overlaps much of its predecessor in substance and feeling, and thus can be considered an accompaniment to the aforementioned. Just in the five minutes I spent finishing the entry that follows, which we mayContinue reading “Journal: Green Pastures, and The Storybook”

Past Reconciled: Future Remedied

For a very long time I lived by the banal platitude that if you were depressed, you were living in the past; if you were anxious, you were living in the future; and if you were at peace, you were living in the present. The mindfulness of conscious awareness and gratitude aside; I have learned:Continue reading “Past Reconciled: Future Remedied”

Bubba Grew Up, Amen.

I’ve been working on another entry lately, spending the past few nights near the water, before bed, turning over big deep metaphors, trying to communicate the wisdom of hindsight, having made it out of the deep Dark Night of The Soul. But really, I’ve just gotta say: Amen. I breathe now to center myself. Big,Continue reading “Bubba Grew Up, Amen.”

Gather Ye Rosebuds While Ye May

Once, while on a certain psychedelic substance (Ambiguous writer is ambiguous), I laid back onto the chaise in my living room and something told me that: I was in the safety of my late twenties. I’m not sure whether it was a prescient notion or an intention; as John Mayer sings: “I am an architectContinue reading “Gather Ye Rosebuds While Ye May”

Journal: Routine, Civic Duty, and Nights on The Shore

17 June, 2015 Writing on my phone, on the shore, under the stars; routine. From the 17th century French word route, meaning ‘road’, and from the Latin ruptus, meaning ‘broken’. It’s the broken road I take. Broken because it’s not the journey, that is whole, but taking the journey that makes us whole. It was tryingContinue reading “Journal: Routine, Civic Duty, and Nights on The Shore”

Passages: East of Eden, John Steinbeck

Original copyright 1952. Centennial edition (from Steinbeck’s birth in 1902), Penguin Books, copyright 2002 Chapter 1 “You can boast about anything if it’s all you have. Maybe the less you have, the more you are required to boast.” – p. 4 “And it never failed that during the dry years the people forgot about theContinue reading “Passages: East of Eden, John Steinbeck”

On Religion as a Bridge to The Soul

“If the person doesn’t listen to the demands of his own spiritual and heart life, and insists on a certain program, you’re going to have a schizophrenic crack-up. The person has put himself off-center; he has aligned himself with a programmatic life, and it’s not the one the body’s interested in at all. And theContinue reading “On Religion as a Bridge to The Soul”

A Bridge Unburned

Venture down Leave no stone unturned – Imperfect as it is, Look for the bridge unburned You can’t go back, But you may meet in the middle One day, ten thousand suns away Whole, … As you never were before I continue to grasp my fortune after its end, but I hold nonetheless to whatContinue reading “A Bridge Unburned”

Journal: Born and Raised

Note: I foolishly came across an old email today that chagrined me. Thankfully writing this while listening to John Mayer’s ‘Born and Raised’ has somehow grounded me and made me feel better. Amen. 6 June, 2015 I woke up today and had a yogurt smoothie and I then I did the dishes. After reading onContinue reading “Journal: Born and Raised”

Letting Go and Taking Hold of Myself: My Creed Revisted

I find myself again at the water’s edge, for the muse flows through my soul tonight like sand through an hourglass. The calm, moon-chilled air gently draws at my face, pulling me inward to greater depths, to a place more real than the day behind me. My soul, like all awake souls, was born toContinue reading “Letting Go and Taking Hold of Myself: My Creed Revisted”