jueves, 28 de octubre de 2010

Just Around the Corner

Sometimes a bend in the road is just a bend in the road. However, you'd be surprised at what the simple act of rounding a corner can  sometimes reveal. Besançon, the city where I currently reside, is an extremely old settlement, and many of the more aged buildings in the city centre have large doors with high archways that lead to private courtyards which one would never notice from the street. Now, admittedly some of these courtyards are extremely boring to look at, if not outright gloomy and depressing, but walking into many of them, one is greeted by charming and unexpectedly beautiful interiors. to dreamers and souls given to flights of fancy, like myself, many of these call to mind tales of hidden realms and far off,magical kingdoms like in Narnia and the Secret Garden. But even the most sober-minded persons couldn't resist the quaintness, history and old-world  flavour that is hangs in the air.

Life is full of these types of experiences. If our journey were a road, it certainly would not be a straight one- well at least that has been my experience so far. At times turning round those bends can be terrifying, at others we can barely wait to swing round the corner if it means getting out of nightmarish circumstances. I admit that I am generally a cautious individual who prefers to think about things- often long in advance- weighing and comparing the various options before committing to any one choice. When confronted with a turn in the road, I sometimes hesitate at times nearly to the point of paralysis. 

But what I've come to learn over the years is that there comes a point where you have thought enough, and no amount of extra study or analysis will make the information you have any more precise. At this point, you just have to take the plunge. And the longer you wait once you've got to that point, the harder it gets to make that move. And, if you're not careful, you begin to atrophy because we were not meant to live static lives.

For good or ill; whether there are thunder clouds black and heavy with rain or brilliant sunshine waiting for you, choose to make a choice. You can either walk over to whatever is ahead or have it slam into you at unawares. So even though your legs may be trembling to the point where you can barely stand, take a deep breathe, steel your nerve, take that first step trusting that inertia exists for a reason and if you apply the force needed to get moving, God will help you build the momentum you need to keep going forward.

martes, 26 de octubre de 2010

Back in the Game

It's funny how you can get so wrapped up in your life and all its obligations that you lose track of other, arguably more important things. This has been my experience over the last couple of months. Rushing from one committment to another, running back and forth from one disaster to the next: putting out a fire here, cleaning up after a flood over there... and before you know it, a day has run on into a week, a week into a month and so on until you look up and realise, another year is almost over.


Yes. That has been the story of my life in recent days, and I know I've said it before- if not here then on my other blog Lyrical Essences- but, I am going to take charge of my life again. True, I have made a few mistakes- ok a lot of mistakes, but I feel like it's time to start putting them behind me: make amends where I can, ask for forgiveness and put down the guilt, fear and self chastisement I've been lugging around for like a load of damaged bricks which are in no condition to be used to build anything solid.


Someone once said you cannot start over...and to a certain extent, they may be right. But regardless of whether you look at it as a new beginning or simply moving forward, life is going to go on whether we like it or not... that's just it's nature. All we have to decide is how we are going to go with it: are we going to make active decisions or sit passively as the current carries us along? The way I see it, there's a time and place for both. However even allowing life to carry us on should be the object of an enlightened and conscious choice, a function of the circumstances in which we find ourselves and not simply the outflow of a battered and defeated spirit. 


So I'm going to strap up my boots, tie my waist, square my shoulders and continue my journey. What are you planning to do?

martes, 20 de abril de 2010

Blogger Buzz: Blogger integrates with Amazon Associates

Blogger Buzz: Blogger integrates with Amazon Associates

Past Tense

We used to be friends.

We used to be friends
Before the I saids,
The he saids
That she said that they said.
We used to be friends…

We used to be friends
Back when the days were made for fun
And nights meant long phone conversations
Ending in snores from one or both ends of the line…

We used to be friends
In the days when confessions
Came without fear,
Back when take backs
Were enough,
And an I’m sorry
Was the ultimate cure-all.

Yeah we used to be friends,
When time
And the maturity that came with an “IM”
Still made the impossible plausible,
The improbable tangible
And the unobtainable haveable.

That’s right, we used to be friends.
Then we were enemies
And now we just are…
But separately.

We used to be…

Fear of Bliss

I feel like shit
Shit is how I feel
Need to get it out
And tell the universe about my crap
Otherwise I fear
I will explode
With all the things I leave
Unsaid.
And all the questions in my head
All the people I try to avoid
All the ways I try to hide
Behind a curtain
Hastily contrived
To screen my eyes
From scrutiny.
That’s the way I get my therapy
I talk of flying
Of liberty
But when I come to take the leap
I choke
Standing just upon the
Brink
I cry and plead
For an open door
To get me out of box and cage
To spread my wings and soar
Above river and mountain and plain
But once freedom’s wish is granted
I panic
And wedge myself into a corner
And pray for open spaces,
Friendly faces
In far off exotic places...
A sure end to all my sorrow
An end for sure,
...But tomorrow

lunes, 22 de marzo de 2010

A Must Read

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

Maya Angelou

viernes, 5 de marzo de 2010

Staying grounded

I do not consider myself a great scholar or academic. Some of the people who know me have said that I am intelligent, others have described me as creative, still others have said that I have potential. There may very well be some truth to that but the reality is that when I sit and ponder the immense patrimony of humanity built up by successive generations over millennia of existence, I am confronted by my own limitations.

Gazing up at the unclouded night sky, I glimpse a fragment of an infinite universe that brings me face to face with the boundaries of my own finite knowledge, and I feel little.

The sea also has that effect on me, except that, being more familiar with that environment (I mean I haven’t been doing much space exploration lately) there’s also a peaceful feeling mingled with the realisation of how tiny I am in the grand scheme of things. That connection must be the result of being an island child. Yet that sensation of being at home on the seashore is mingled with a quiet terror of the deep and the creatures that inhabit its hidden halls and submerged caverns. A terror that is confirmed by the awesome power unleashed at the coming of a storm. That force that otherwise lies dormant- a majestic might that you all but forget on days of sunny calm.

All these put life back in perspective and help me remember my place when I’m tempted to think more of myself than I should, or when I forget that the world does not revolve around me.

These are also the things that I miss living in a city which, while being a fairly green one, is still a city of asphalt and concrete and old stone. A city located in a region where the sunshine falls in buckets of cold liquid (which make seeing the blue sky a rare event). A landlocked city traversed by a river- which I’m happy for, but then a river has nothing on the sea!

Nevertheless I am grateful for a chance to experience something new. To see life from a different perspective. To learn to deal with fresh challenges and thereby grow. I think. I feel I breathe. I am alive. And I am grateful.

Make life Psychedelic

What happens to us when we get to be a certain age ? That’s a question I’ve been asking myself recently. You start out your life with a sparkle that finds mystery and adventure around every corner and under every stone. Cracks in the pavement become the object of a life-or-death challenge as you try to avoid them all while walking down the street… The sea and sky provide no end of matter for flights of fancy, from seeing shapes in the clouds to imaginary kingdoms waiting to be discovered below the foaming crests of waves…

And somehow, somewhere we get wrapped up in school and homework and jobs and images and reputations and before you know it you wake up and you become this person that’s so “grown up” you don’t remember the last time you really saw the colour green or asked yourself what dogs do with their lives when their masters aren’t looking.

I’m not advocating we all become like Peter Pan and live our lives completely cut off from reality. But maybe, just maybe dear old Peter wasn’t totally wrong after all. What if we remembered to take the time to indulge boy/girlhood fancy once in a while? What about dusting off those rose coloured glasses we retired way back when and put the wonder back into the way we look at life. I’m just saying… ;)