Patterns in the Sand

The stars have been in the sky ever since
–I had an eye to see them
The sand has been there as long
–as there have been mountains

But we blow away with the wind
We’re so recent.

The ocean holds onto secrets;
If it tells me, can I keep it?
Can I steep in it?
It’s too steep, isn’t it?


A world in pain

Today I realized I am aching.
I ache for all the things I ever loved
And the memories that are gone
I ache for a world in pain
I ache
and ache
and ache
and ache.

But that ache comes from love.

I love for all the things I have yet to love
I love for the memories they will make me
I love for the connection
--any drop of relief I can share with another person
--or the World

I love
and love
and love
and love
and love


and love
and love
and love
and love
and love
and love
and love
and love
and love
and love
and love
and love
and love.

As long as the world is in pain, I will love.



Girl. Pensive. Ocean.

The inner world of depression is one dealing with deep truths. We think of depression as something bad–something we don’t want to happen. But I have always felt if we go visit the dark ocean on our own volition, then the dark ocean will not overflow and come swallow us up.

(Well, if all we had to worry about was ourselves, anyway.)

Dive deep. Look inward. Eyes open wide so the salt can sting you.

Dark Ocean

It will make you stronger.


Eternal Sunshine of the Holy Anthem

We are all moving toward the sun.

Our destiny was always to become one

But like the zealot we get distracted by Gods

Like the completionist we get distracted by odds

Like the scientist we try say our fascinations

Are just an appreciation of natural machinations

And we know humility is a valuable skill

But we’re obsessed with aggressively asserting our will

The quiet, the silence…

Lost to gods, goals and science

Meditation. Hesitation.

Not allowed in this loud proud nation.

And here we are…

Moving toward the sun.

Our destiny was always to become one.

Keep grasping.

Maybe you can steal it!

Stand still.

And I guarantee you’ll feel it.

Personal Stuff

The Cold.

Everything was so quiet. Snow does that–muffles sound. The night wasn’t so dark with the streetlamp right next to my car, not to mention the shopping center on the other side of the parking lot. When I stepped outside, the cold fell on me immediately. I could see my breath. I could feel my life seeping away.

Because that’s what cold is. Transferring heat–much needed heat–away from you.

But the quiet was still so serene. And the realization of death was awe-inspiring. I also had my car, right there, with the engine running. There wasn’t an actual fear of death–just stepping on the threshold and peaking over to the other side. Taking a moment to feel delicate.

It was snowmageddon 2014, Birmingham, AL. Like many people, I was stranded in my car overnight. Luckily I had snacks from an earlier trip to CVS, and enough gas in my car to run the engine all night. There were other options; nearby businesses, public shelter at the fire dept., and that strange but nice lady who had asked if I wanted to stay at her house. But the cold was trying to tell me something. I wanted to go on this journey alone.

Also the Fire dept was over a mile away. That lady was weird. And the nearby business in question was full of children. No thanks. I’ll stay in my car.

At that time in my life I seemed to have everything: a great career, a wonderful life partner, tons of friends, and a …. decently fulfilling spiritual life. But the cold was telling me something. My life was cush. It was cozy. And I was getting weak.

The truth is I put minimal effort into everything and enjoyed many comforts. I could feel this in myself, but honestly I didn’t know how to change it. No one wants unnecessary suffering. If we are offered comfort, we take it.

Well, I made it home, of course. The cold went away and I continued my cozy life. How do we foster growth in the deepest, darkest parts of ourselves? How do we impose loss upon ourselves when we have everything we need and more? I thought about going on a spiritual retreat, having some kind of ascetic experience, but of course I never followed through.

Now we live in a different city and all those things are gone. I never wanted to rely on comforts, I always wanted to be the type of person who sought challenges and even struggles. Boy, did I have some misconceptions about myself. The older you get, the harder it is to break old habits. I suppose I have some work to do.

Me and the cold are getting to know each other.