Archive | July, 2018

my dating profile :) dare i?

22 Jul

I look normal, I seem normal, and I can wear my normal suit as needed.

But life’s journey has led me away from the path of normal.

I am putting my truth out there on my profile into the world of normal, to eliminate most, and to speak to those who will instantly know what I am talking about.

I am not talking about anything overt; I am talking about the inner blossoming.

I am on a path toward self-discovery.

The answers I have sought have been discovered to be within and to be never far.

Breath is the vehicle for me on the ride.

I spend time in silence,

I fall in love all day long, everyday, with ants and trees, and songs.

My boundaries have loosened, my identity has loosened.

I can still dance in the world of normal, but I only do so when absolutely necessary.

I am looking for friends to interact with who have a clue what I am talking about.

I am looking to weed out all who are nice, but still normal.

I leave this breadcrumb trail of nonsense as an invitation to anyone who finds the normal paths of life debilitating; there is more. And it is so much more.

The only clues cannot be named or nailed in directly but can only point, like a mute but colorful road sign.

Contact me if you want to talk of such intangible things, or if you want to watch ants or the leaves dance in a breeze, if you sometimes realize you are the breeze, the leaves, and the breathing eyes watching.

trust

20 Jul

is in the breath –

every.

damned.

time.

thank god,

so close.

open water

1 Jul

How long will it take me to realize where I have navigated myself to? I haven’t a map. I am observant, perhaps at times of the wrong landmarks. The metaphor of this life as a journey is hack kneed(sic) to the point of ridiculous, yet, I cling to cliche in these open waters. I’ve reached a spot where no land or other boats give me any indication of my positioning. Often the wind has left entirely and I am baking under the open sun, sewing the holes in my sails during the down time, feeling as it this task may be meaningless so absent the wind, so marooned in open water I am feeling. I set my course for just this spot years and tired years ago, but mostly I’ve forgotten that. Great work can happen here because without the wind, without camaraderie, without markers, it is truly up to me. Up to me to what? How off the beaten track can I get? Way, way off. But this was the plan. The Uranian path  is lone territory. There will be no signs, no maps, no broadcasts of reality to satiate the longing for validation. There will be no pats on the back, nods of knowing, except from what most don’t see, and if they do, they find these signalers inscrutable, inanimate, voiceless. Getting to the place where the sun and water speak looks like desolation. Hold tight, M. Don’t toss it all away for some cheap fixes now. Have the courage to linger where you’ve tried so hard to get. The passing of the clouds reveals the nature of time and experience, as does the sun and the evaporating salt in the air. Soon enough, you will return to the population, but if you linger here, you will not miss the sea within. Risk insanity, I say to you. Risk dehydration, risk capsizing your security. Linger, dwell, the dog days are still far off. There is no other way to smell the currents, but to sink into this spot. Trust no promise of anything else to come. The novel stops here, leaving the reader hanging; the protagonist sputters, stalls, not even drowning – present circumstances (the boat, the open water, pretending to be captain of this raggedy boat, no wind, no current, no direction) dictate only presence.

take it

 

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