The Lifespan of a Dream

“I have a dream…!” Someone very famous once said. This man had a belief in his dream, and an intensity and drive to make it reality. One might say that his dream lives on today. Sometimes I think of people who have become legends and admire their strong qualities, the good they brought to the world, and the honor they brought to their tribes. And I look to the younger generation. The emerging heroes of our future must be there, hidden amongst their peers. Let the world’s need for you be the fuel that keeps your dream alive.

Perhaps the diversity of our society makes it harder to peg the “greats” of our time. We have days to honor mothers, presidents, saints, and war veterans. There is no day yet, on which we celebrate the unsung, unknown champions of our race. Whoever you are, we know you’re there. When your burden becomes heavy and those closest to you don’t “see” you, we know you’re there. Keep your dream alive.

note: Featured on Whisper of a Memory Legacy (3/15/2007).

To Be Known

Solace and Explanation

i recall when speaking was easy
arbitrary
like driving a spike into the trunk of a tree
tasting the sap, drop by drop
until i understood the essence of you

i remember taking a glance
accidentally
not to discern facts, but to experience your eyes
falling in, then becoming immersed
until i swam in the thought of you

i can imagine your breadth
simultaneously
in the manner of a circle
enveloping, and being enveloped
until i find solace through you

image credit:  “Solace and Explanation” by slayrider

Found You With My Eyes Closed

Flying People

It’s been so long.

Peering cautiously out of one barely opened eye, my mind harkens back to those old dreams of flight. I recall the strange sensation — it was more like floating in zero gravity after springing nimbly into the air, than actually flying. This time was similar. Only instead of rising up exuberantly, then floating tranquilly, this feeling was one of leaping from one thing to another. That’s me, a rehabilitated Tarzan swinging from tapestry to tapestry in some huge library in my head. Momentum was again my friend but now gravity was an unspoken nemesis I had to respect in order to soar through the air the way I loved to.

Again I recognize the importance of staying in the middle. Not so much in the sense of balance or moderation, as is usually the case, but for the crucial sake of survival. This is new. This instinctual restraint is not inborn, but the result of knowing firsthand what happens. If you let the joy of the magic take you too high too fast, the magic consumes you. And now there’s the new knowledge of the opposite extreme. Flying low, slowly and apathetically, is safe. But there’s the gradual descent that inevitably follows. I had taken it too far, this fear of burning up in the sun. For too long I had dutifully meandered the earth like a good human, bent on mediocrity and the general consensus.

But that’s not real, anymore than television is. And it certainly does not satisfy, the way a well-oiled meal enjoyed in the company of good friends would. Most importantly, it’s not life-sustaining. Moving through the air and practicing physics in a dream-state is the cure, and I drink up the experience much like I would down a gulp of water offered up by a mystical cactus in the sweltering heat of the desert.

I breathe. Hope still lives.

Phoenix Poem

Phoenix

your freedom is captivating
with golden plumes arching
you touch only the wind

like liquid warmth in the shape of a bird
one enchanted feather
could keep me alive forever

with no net to catch you
and no will to cage you
only my gaze is satisfied

the distance between the earth and the air
keeps me catching my breath

i won’t bring my phoenix down
won’t take your brilliance from the sky
i’ll keep on admiring you
but from the corner of my eye

Phoenix Nebula

Expression is a Function of Being

For someone who once aspired to be a writer, I don’t write very often anymore. Normally I have really good excuses. By “really good excuses” I mean the same excuses most writers or artists tell themselves when they’re not following their inner inclinations to express themselves. Not having enough time is a common one. Taking a break from writing is another. Working on another project certainly sounds like a legitimate excuse. There isn’t actually anything wrong with the excuses I’ve just named off, with one exception — when these excuses are a cloak for a different excuse entirely. I’m talking about that nefarious Doubt that lives somewhere, if only for a moment, in each human’s mind, that delights in disguising itself as facts and realities. You know the one. It tells you all the reasons why you can’t possibly write, and how, if you did, it wouldn’t be that great, or how there wouldn’t be any point. It’s this Doubt that I’d like to uncloak and banish. For myself and for other writers out there, it’s essential that this Doubt be downgraded to a mere passing thought and be relieved of it’s duty as Commander of your creative impulses.

Part of what makes us unique is that we each have a different viewpoint — each terrible and beautiful experience we’ve lived is a facet of our being that, when used as a filter for the universal energy that flows through us all, paints a particular picture that no one else can replicate. Authentically expressing that energy is part of why we exist. The other reason is so that we can affect one another with our energy. In light of that, why should we not express ourselves? Laziness, lack of motivation, or shyness are no longer valid excuses. Instead, we’re charged with a higher purpose. Yes, you are as well. In my opinion, it’s this: Exist to the fullest, be the best you that you can, and share your life/love/story with the people around you.

Goodbye 2011

New Years is a symbolic time. It’s a time of new beginnings and hope. By the same token, it’s a time of endings and letting go. We build up much momentum in life but sometimes the reasons get lost along the way. Willfully pruning your life helps you to remember the reasons and allows room for new growth.

Random Thoughts

First…

There’s an inner landscape, and then there’s reality. For some, reality is a pale ghost of what the inner landscape contains. We’re known by our expressions, both facial and verbal. Yet the content of one’s inner world is something that can’t be shared in simple conversation. It’s a depth that must be plumbed alone, and often the only understanding that you’ll find is through relation to art. That’s why it’s important for those of us who are reticent about the real world, yet teeming with inner life, to find a medium through which to actually live. Because if we go through life without finding this, in some ways it’s as though we never lived at all. The ideals and longings and adventures inside of us are a large part of our identity — to carry on in a fashion that is too stoic or reserved means to live and die having only been known as an Everyman.

It’s impossible to show the deconstruction, and gradual reconstruction of a persona, when the moment of change itself is unfathomable. It comes like a tornado and obliterates everything into millions of pieces. It’s followed by a period of shock. Then, after some reflection, what once was is recognizable only by the rubble that remains.

Later…

Is that what happens to people when they lose their way…? First you wander around aimlessly. It seems all for naught until you find that box, filled with your precious memories. One by one, you look through each piece, dusting it off and examining it. They’re broken fragments of dreams, and jagged pieces of what you were once becoming. If you’re really, really, lost – I think it’s OK to pick them up and try to reassemble them. I think it’s OK to pretend for a little while, that putting all those pieces together will make you back into the person you once were.

But don’t fall in love. Never, never fall in love with that person you miss, the one that used to be called “me.” The past is a snare that will try it’s very best to take you away from Here and Now. It will try to ruin the future you; the one you are becoming now.