My brother, Chris, yet again knocked it out of the park by capturing this incredible song while it was playing live on the radio. Thank you, Chris!
Miss you, Dad. What a gift it is to listen to this gem. And to all of my WP friends out there who’ve taken a moment to express kindness concerning my Father’s passing, thank you. I hope you enjoy this as much as I do.
That’s my old man singing and playing the guitar. He wrote the song.
What an amazing talent, Dad, I should have told you more often.
Timeless humanity and our perception of this. That is what I study. That is what I write. To include the walking positives, and the walking negatives. I try and peel away my internal hurdles to better see the world around me. When I meet a person I lean on the positives, now by natural sate of mind, and so often I notice possible new friends leaning on the negatives. Is this the best we have, humanity?
For me, it started with large amounts of self reflection. I lived alone for a number of years and paced my studio apartment walls endlessly. Until I bought a kayak. I floated on rivers, streams, ponds and lakes, alone, and then with friends and family. Someone recently asked me, “Was that depression? Being alone all the time on the river?” No. It was needed and a blessing.
When I was a child I knew how to run wildly among the ferns and pound the banking of the brook until I broke into the water, with or without shoes, and it was pure bliss. The sunshine, the leaves above me, the awareness of my surroundings. Somehow much of that was taken. I’m partly to blame. Growing older lead me to things that never mattered to me, but somehow I pretended that they did. Until I finally found the water and the aloneness again.
It was during this time that I learned one of my ‘secrets’ I cannot share. I can only hope many of you find your own version of this. This is where my faith is stored and why my confidence is that of a beautifully happy child. I know something. It was given to me as a gift and I see it everywhere I look. In each piece of wind, each hand shake, and in every face.
I hope you all have the best Independence Day possible.
I find it freeing to not put
boundaries on how, or what, I write.
The few times I’ve placed a fence around my words,
in an attempt to control what might come out,
I felt sick.
I bounce around from old memories,
to the smell of mud within a short story,
to the reality of what the weather is. Just now I opened our second story window and removed the screen to feel the cool drops land on my hands from the dripping of the snow melt from the roof. The drops splashed, then ran in streaks until again continuing their fall to the ground. I cupped a small portion and pulled my hand back inside; small drops fell onto the carpet next to my feet. They sparkled as they fell. I could nearly see through them, for a brief and small moment, but that too is gone.
I searched for the book I was reading with a feeling of annoyance toward myself for having misplaced it. Found it. Under a pile of useless kiddle. Now that I’ve found it, I no longer want to read it. I stare at the cover with a feeling of annoyance toward myself for having found it. It’s written by a famous author. It’s not good. It doesn’t translate. It’s not relevant. Only the timeless ones can do that. They write content that will give for hundreds of years. Think that’s not possible? One word. Bible.