clarity
the winter wind acros
s the lake
blows the sky a crystal blue
clears the way for perfect views
my mental state is scrubbed clean, too
fogs are not, nor gloomy clouds
high here, in my mountains, apart from crowds
I walk, we talk, the going is easy
(if i rhyme here it will be cheesy)
the ground beneath our feet swells
the path climbs and so does my pulse
a higher view of the lake’s deep blue
white mountains, green trees
everything is as it should be
the willow buds tell of coming spring
the flitting birds and scurrying vole agree
harsh cold days are past us now
the best is on the way
the clarity we seek
Oneness.
Merry Christmas eve
I got a massage this last week, and on the form you fill out all your physical ailments and any health history, and at the end there is a space marked “Comments” I filled it in even though it was optional. I wrote “I’m happy!”
I was telling the truth. I am quite happy, I have so much to be thankful for and so much love in my life. and God. does that sound weird to put him behind any other reason for happiness? yes. He is first and the reason for all happiness. I am so glad to know the savior, and to celebrate the coming of Jesus Christ in human form, to walk among and talk to us and ultimately to save us from our waywardness. Thank you God!
<a href=http://www.technorati.com/claim/5d3vbjx3z” rel+”me”>Technorati Profile</a>
where seeking stops and love is allowed to rest
when we are young, we do not know what romantic love is. Hopefully we grow enough and find that some day, yet for many it is a painful journey, fraught with hazards.
we have, if we are fortunate the love of our parents and of our siblings. This sort of love is seamless, it is the background music to a life full of many healthy diversions and the trials of growing and testing life’s lessons.
TBC
2996
i am proud to memorialize Timothy Paul Gilbert on my main blog
Sugarloaf Mountain
on Sept 11 -
as part of the 2996 tributes
The summer draws near
The cool quiet of morning is broken by the rooster’s crowing
dark has yielded to the rising light of another day
my slumber is interrupted by the sound of sheep and the chirp of birds
No alarm clock needed here in my mountain lair
the sounds of day turn off my night and renewed, I come to consciousness.
I am thankful that sleep has worked its magic in my body and mind;
glad to be alive and well, happy to see life as a glass half full or more.
When day begins the line is drawn, yesterday is a memory, stored
today I bring my strength and energy, my wits and will to serve again
to serve is righteous, holy and pure. to give is the better way
(written months ago, and just published, kind of rough draft, sorry)
what is pure surprises with its beauty
Theme:
There is so little that is pure in life. What is pure is so rare.
Scene:
I saw two sisters playing a card game together. The older one is being so kind, to entertain her younger sister at Grandma’s cabin in the mountains. The power was off temporarily and the only sound was their voices as they played. The purity of such an interaction is rare. Perhaps as fleeting as the clean air and blue sky here, high above the cities below that contain most of what we have come to accept as real life.
What I saw at this moment was the purity of sibling love, enjoying the quiet of a cool afternoon in the mountains, away from the television, the rush of the busy lives at home and the pressure of other obligations. This was just time for two. One to give, the other to receive the gift of time, before colleges and marriage draw them into lives of their own and families of their own.
These two girls will grow older and inevitably apart. The trips to the mountains together will be fewer and not as care- free. Families change as naturally as the seasons. As they get older and busier, school will demand more time, perhaps boyfriends or athletic pursuits will draw each one to spend more time with others.
Love like this does not die, nor fade, nor get erased. It becomes the backdrop to another layer of life and offers itself as a foundation for loves yet to be discovered. When other ‘important’ things begin to demand time and attention I trust that the deep sense of belonging fostered during a simple child’s game of cards will bring such strength and solace to reinforce the bond of family, sisters, friends.
As I am working nearby, straining with a simple task that has become difficult, the card game conversation has become the cabins soundtrack since the radio has gone silent with the flip of a circuit breaker. They play beautifully, quickly, for the hundredth time, a game of ‘Go Fish’ and must not realize how precious is the closeness they will always share, or how it speaks through their laughter, the giggling of pure fun filling the old cabin with another layer of happy memories.
I perspire, and mutter at the wires in the wall. The outlet is made new again, and the circuit breaker reset so that the Ipod can bring forth its’ music again.
I thank God for the examples of purity that exist in this world that I am passing through.
dear friend
I must always call you that, for in my mind that is what you remain. Even when the part of you that I cherished and was so attracted to has been eclipsed, I know it is there. I know that you are there inside a shell, behind a mask of hurt and confusion. I am sorry I contributed to your pain and feeling of loss by speaking harshly, plainly to the growing contention between us. I don't recall who started it, nor does it seem to matter much now. I just need to get some things off my mind, off my chest, so I can sleep tonight.
I picture myself sitting on your comfy couch, nervous because he is in the room, forever changing the way you talk and limiting what I can say, what I can do. No more tears from you, and no more will I be able to hug you and try to chase away the scary things that wage war against your mind and heart. That is his job now, and I need to pray he does it better than I ever could, and stays longer than I managed to stay. He has what I had once asked for and never gotten, your commitment. I presume you have his complete devotion and full will to make the best of every day with all its challenges.
I am so sorry about your mom and dad leaving you with such a mess, but you know you did some of this to yourself by exploring where you did not have to go. Sometimes a book that has a tragic ending does not need to be read to its conclusion. On the other hand you have more information here than most will ever have about WHY their family did not work. What will you do with this? What can you do? Not much really, no more than you have tried.
You have a chance. You know the truth, but until you embrace it it will not set you free. You can now see that what your father preached did not bring happiness or fulfillment into his life. Putting up with all his crap compromised your mother to the point of denying herself joy, and shortening her life by destructive habits. She tried, with you and your brother, to overcome the evil that lurked in your home. she put on the best face she could, but behind the scenes was directing the show, and was in fact stuck playing a part she wrote, but could not voice her own desperation, so she tended to yours and greived as you fought the battles that left you scarred and lonely, sad and sick from the pain of not fitting in your world.
As of today I release you from my mind and from my heart to go and be and do whatever it is that you are to do. I will no longer dwell on what was, or could have been for us. That is gone a long time ago. You helped me. I helped you. Now we go on in seperate paths, to goals that are unshared. You have what you wished for, longed for, desired. Make it work. I will work on my life, raise my daughter, encourage my sons, and serve my God with my life, my strength and my testimony. I will pray for you one more time as I sleep tonight, and trust you to the care of the God who never sleeps, and the savior who knows you more intimately than I even could, and loves you beyond words.
God bless you and your husband, and bring peace to your household
hey what happened ?
I used to be a writer here! Then I went back to my old blog
and my life got so busy. sheesh
I will try to do better
can he see through me?
Am I the only one wondering if the person across the table can see through my veneer to the darkness that is just beneath?
This is my experience recently: trying to be better, more real, more focused on God, yet my mind still distracts during sermons or bible studies with thoughts that do not belong there.I have control, just not much of it. I have restraint. As much as you would expect from a hungry man in front of a stack of hot pancakes piled with butter and dripping with syrup. My conscience is telling me I can not pay for those pancakes, so they are not mine to enjoy. “Can I just deal with that when the check is placed on the table?”
So when I act like I am not a pancake theif, and earnestly ponder the Word of God, though I lack the discipline of applying it to my life, I get this nagging voice that says,”If he knew who you are and what you think about during his teaching he would be appalled.” How do you sit here and talk like one kind of man and harbor the thoughts you do in the recesses of your mind?”
I wish I could tell him what is going on since I am sure he would have words of encouragement, not condemnation. We are not that close yet, maybe I will trust myself and my teacher more in the future, and make a break for the light, and leave the shadows. for now its mine to deal with, mine to conquer. With the help of God and His spirit living in me.
is pain attractive?
Heck no, pain does not attract us.
Yet somehow death and injury do when they are able to be viewed in 'drive by' mode.
When we see a bad accident, something about the twisted metal and broken glass draws our eyes to scour the scene for the signs of life, or death that may be there. We might wonder aloud if anyone got hurt, while silently we are thankful that it was not us, or someone we love. How ego centric is our world and how deceptive the thought that if it does not happen to me, it matters less.
I am starting to agree with M. Scott Peck's postulation that life is hard. ( period) that is what it is. Even for the few who escape the daily struggle for food and shelter because they have a hedge of funding to keep the cold at arms length, there is the struggle for meaning, for worth, personal value. For those who have some safety from hardships, and have a good position with clear goals that are supported by society at large, there is still the struggle of "what am I beyond my job function?"
Theere is an article in Time magazine on another view of psychotherapy that i am just now reading and digesting (yesterday was a snow day, so I got to stay in and read) I will add to this later when i connect all the dots,
***********************************
I became a writer some time ago. In some ways I got better at it by blogging for most of a year. The loosness of the format let me get off track, though. I am a poor typist and slow, so I am going to longhand in notebook, for the thoughts that flow while I am not facing this electronic cube. I bought a notebook and two pens with the idea in mind that this would be my moment of embarcation ( sp) as I leave teh comfortable shores of writing for fun and entertainment to writing for the impact it can have and for the possibility of it being another income stream, though it may start out as a trickle.
Today's last (written) thought: God does not ever drive by and wonder, or look and keep moving. He is always related to the accident victim, and always there to console, calm and if needed, collect the soul of a departed traveler. When I go past the next crash site, I will imagine Him there, holding and loving, and caring for His lambs. He knows their names.
