Soaked in Sorrow

Moments encroach upon us in which the peace slips away. Just as swiftly as the quiet engulfed the senses – like a rush of fresh, crisp air – it escapes our consciousness, leaving behind the stale shadows that follow us around so adamantly.

These bouts of lament are not welcome, yet are ever so comfortable to sit with – like a loyal old friend. As if this is the state in which we were born; aching to the core, soaked in sorrow, drifting in and out of contentment like a dream we are unsure we have woken from.

Moments pass, and we are again consumed by a sense of serenity as the calm returns and the sorrow sleeps for a spell. We can only hope the darkness will keep away for just one moment more than it chose to stay. Standing still, we watch as the moments swirl around us, the coming and going of shadows and peace – passing before our sleepy eyes.


Spoken Melody

I want to take your words
and spin them into
something sublime.
A kind of art that is
so breathtaking
the tourists who walk by
will have to look away.
Music more transcendent
than your favorite song
or mine.
Your words.
They sit on the edge
of my memory,
always so close to falling
from me.
If I don’t make them
into something I can hold,
I fear there will never
again be art or music
worth experiencing.
Oh –
those words of yours.
Even the words that don’t
belong to you
the words of others
whom you admire or despise,
coming from your mouth
they’re all exquisite to me.
To my ears as they fall
from your lips
to my eyes as your teeth
and tongue work together,
making everything else I
have ever thought beautiful
completely insignificant
in comparison.

Hold Still

I’m tangled in branches, coated in dirt, wrapped in leaves that embrace parts of me I cannot see. The far-off echo of birdsong guides me to clear waters in the dark dusk of early morning; before the sun’s rays have had the chance to dance quietly upon mountain ranges or reflect hues into deep oceans and traveling rivers. I hold still – listening for the wind to carry hope to me from somewhere I have not been.


The Ordinary


Redefining Reactions

We tend to ignore the sensations that heed our most defining moments.

A subtle sinking of our stomachs, the slight furrow in our brow as we struggle to make sense of the sudden unwelcome sense of unsettlement. That heat that gathers behind our eyes warning of the flood of tears to come, so confidently assuring us there is nothing to be done to keep them at bay. Objects and faces that up to this pivotal point provided normalcy, comfort, security, and even happiness, suddenly feel out of place, as if we are witnessing the light land on them for the first time.

We experience these responses to change time and time again in our lives. The panic floods over us all at once, as if our bodies are rejecting the idea before the mind has a chance to wrap a coherent thought around it. The lump rises up in our throats, the stinging behind our eyes and a very sudden, very strong aversion to the thought of food as our stomachs hit the floor. Even when the change that is in front of us not being forced upon us, the reaction is the same – something new, something unknown to be feared.

When faced with a choice – one that asks us to deviate so suddenly and unexpectedly from where we stand – our stomachs sink, our brows furrow, and we label these sensations as signs of warning. Instinctive and habitual, we gravitate toward these familiar and initial reactions to change, clinging to them as if they are the only emotions we are capable of. Relying wholeheartedly on the instinctive message being sent to our brains, we immediately retreat.

But what if the impending tears and sinking stomachs are instead a sign that something is coming, something great? With rapid change hurling itself in our direction at full speed – what if we choose instead to explore, reflect, inspect, and question what is happening? Reading the signals of response in a context of fear, could mean missing out on the many defining moments that we derive from such experiences. So, rather than deciding that we are bound to meet our impending doom, let’s instead recognize and embrace the moments leading to greatness – no matter how hard our stomachs hit the floor.