Sand & Stars
There are more stars in the Universe than grains of sand on the Earth. Think about that.
Say Something
At what point in your life do you stop quoting others and start having something to say for yourself?
Friendergy
The last 10 times you called one of your best friends what was your energetic intention? Were you calling them because you needed some love, guidance, help, and attention – because you needed some of their energy? Or were you calling them because you wanted to give them some energy, love, attention, help or guidance? Or were your energetic intentions mutual? You called with the intention to give them some love and you appreciated them returning the favor? What’s your friendergy? Are you a giver or a taker? Do you give too much of yourself to your friends? Or do you take too much? Or is there balance in your friendships? The next time you pick up the phone to call someone. Ask yourself why you’re calling because the answer might surprise you.
Darkness
The deeper you get to know someone else the more you’re able to see all their sides. You get to see the deeper side that comprises the light that is inside and of them. You also get to see their darkness. The side of them that isn’t ok. The side that isn’t good for them. And isn’t good for you either. But, what do we do with this darkness? Do we hide from it? Ignore it? Bury it? Pretend it’s not there? Or do we acknowledge it? Confront it? And surround it in light until it becomes light. We do you do with the darkness? How about your own?
Love Letter No. 4
Summer Love II.
….My love for you is stable and steady – it is a foundational kind of love. It is constant and flows from me calmly like a gentle river on a hot summer evening. It flows so naturally it is as if it’s coming from within the Earth itself. It is something I have never felt before. It is a type of love that is beyond love. The love I feel for you reaches another level – the highest level – like the tallest mountain in the world where I now stand thinking of you.
Love Letter No. 3
Summer Love.
….Watching you move is like staring at a kaleidoscope slowly turning. Your colors rotate and swirl around me slowly sucking me in deeper and deeper pulling me off the ground into a hazy sky. We start spinning around and around each other floating further away from everything that is known. We are moving slowly with our eyes locked traveling above the Earth seeing everything and nothing at the same time in streaks of flashing lights. There are no longer senses, no bodies, just energy moving – increasing speed flying in the darkness toward no end. We are free spirits transcending space and time. We are clouds and stars and dust and the sun- still moving. You breath and I wake-up to your eyes staring at me- inside of me with your hand in mine and we have become bodies again. My senses return to the smell of your neck and the touch of your lioness hair. I kiss you and wonder how I ended up here. I don’t understand where you came from and why I get to wake up with you. Every morning I feel like I went to bed dreaming the most beautiful dream I could imagine and wake-up confused because it wasn’t a dream at all it. It was you. Sometimes even during my waking hours I look at you and can only see slowly turning colored light. And then I know that you are real. The real version of my most beautiful dream….
No Longer I.
No Longer I.
Before I die I want know with certainty that I have lived a full life.
I will end with a crescendo.
I need to experience the fullest and furthest depths of all our collective human emotions.
I want to have left an un-measurable legacy.
I will have wooed women with my words.
I seek to become the silt seen in the sunlit air.
I wish to raise and to fall in between the fog and the dew.
I desire to become an eyelash gently falling upon a single blade of grass or to echo the sound of cracking deep inside a glacial core.
I want to be the smell of cinnamon and the taste of sex.
I will blink like a lighting bug and slowly repeat myself within the shiny blades of a vintage fan.
I wish to see my last breath leave my body in the dark night of still winter air.
I will become the wine, the window, and the divinity there.
I need to be the wind… and be the willow… and the grayness of our forefathers hair.
I seek to melt like butter.
And to wash away.
To disappear…
No longer an I at all.
Before I die I want to know with certainty that I have lived a full life.
I will end with a crescendo.
I need to experience the fullest and furthest depths of all our collective human emotions.
I want to have left an un-measurable legacy.
I will have wooed women with my words.
I seek to become the silt seen in the sunlit air.
I wish to raise and to fall in between the fog and the dew.
I desire to become an eyelash gently falling upon a single blade of grass or to echo the sound of cracking deep inside a glacial core.
I want to be the smell of cinnamon and the taste of sex.
I will blink like a lighting bug and slowly repeat myself within the shiny blades of a vintage fan.
I wish to see my last breath leave my body in the dark night of a still winter’s air.
I will become the wine, the window, and the divinity there.
I need to be the wind… and to be the willow… and the grayness of my forefather’s hair.
I seek to melt like lemon drops.
And to wash away.
To disappear…
No longer an I at all.
Love Letter – No. 2
It is a strange thing how we eventually came to be. We danced around each other for years. You weren’t ready. Then I wasn’t ready. Then I was and you changed your mind. I got bored and you got interested. Then you got bored and I got lonely. Our friends teased us about it. But, we always stayed close. I cared about you and you cared about me. We got older. We grew up and we still stayed close. We started spending more time together and we had fun. Nothing dramatic. We knew everything about each other and understood all those things that usually kept us both single for so long. You need your space and I need mine. But, there is a look you give me when there is something you need from me and I know exactly what it means. It is extremely subtle and no one else could understand it, but I do – and I don’t even really know why.
I don’t know exactly when I knew I was in love with you for the first time. Maybe because you’re so subtle and complex it took me years just to know much beyond your surface. And I couldn’t be in love with you until I got deeper. You don’t let anyone deep and I only got there over many years and after I had stopped trying. I don’t know when I knew what your looks meant either. I just knew.
Sometimes you’re really hard on me. But, never in a way that anyone else would know. We’ve never been that couple other couples leave the party talking about. You’re not dramatic and never have been and I’m to old for it now.
Even though you can be hard on me you project a strange unconditional love towards me and it seems so deep I still don’t know where it comes from. I am confident yet certainly vulnerable. And sometimes your love for me surprises me and I wonder why I deserve it. It is funny though because it is always hidden from public view. Even your intense love for me is a part of your subtlety. Some people might think you are cold, but they don’t understand that they couldn’t handle the emotion under your core. It’s too powerful. And you downplay yourself too much anyway. You don’t give yourself enough credit. I mean, jeez, you have to put up with me!
Well, my darling after 13 years together there is really no reason for this note. Except I had a long day and I greatly appreciate you rubbing my head while we sit in silence because you understand my look when I need your help too. I don’t know how it happened, but we eventually came together and it was meant to be. Two strange and subtle people living in our overly unsubtle world. I would say I love you, but it goes unsaid.
A truly strong person does not need the approval of others any more than a lion needs the approval of sheep.
– Vernon Howard
My First Love Letter – To An Unknown Maiden
My Dear Lady of Star-Crossed Quantum Entanglement,
You break my heart. I don’t know why we have connected. But, we have. Perhaps our interest in each other has more to do with the forbidden aspects of our interactions than with any other reality if no said barriers existed. I cannot know any differently though because they do.
My carnivorous instinct is to shred your clothing to bits and ravage your body, yet somehow I’m not even most interested in that process or outcome within the realm of your specific particularities. I’ve already known many undersides of the carriage and will testify to however different each carriage may physically be that each ride is always made most comfortable dependent upon its driver. A ride in late autumn with sun soaked leaves falling upon a quiet road in the silence of still air touches the most tender of hearts, but connects with my core only if it is somehow cosmically ordained beyond the pleasantry of that specific temporal romantic condition.
And oh… do I long to ride deep within your carriage treading slowly far along a less worn path just as the sun crests at its golden hour upon evenings’ take.
I am a patient man. Life is a process of seasons designed to teach its most humble beings rhythmic lessons. For every winter there is a summer. For every fall there is a spring. For every patient man there is an unknowable prize. There are unknowable reasons for unknowable connections, which lead to forbidden fortresses in kingdoms that require great distances to reach. Great distances only a patient man can travel.
As I sit and stare upon my reflection in the small puddle, which encircles the reality of my surf-titude, I recognize the vibration in the water sent transcendently from the balcony of your crisp October breath. I hear you without a hint of the most discreet Latin word. I see you without a glimpse into the window of your vail. I smell you as clear as the most poignant spring rain. I know you as if… as if perhaps, you already have known me.
However, the tragedy of your vibration haunts me. Patient as I may be, I know not the way to your distant shore. It seems directions have always been my Achilles heal and although I accept my status as a lost soul sailing aimlessly with a ship of friends and fools I now seek desperately the compass buried deep within my bow.
As a sailor it is hard to trust in the stars. How can such tiny specks of light and dust guide us to our homes? We must have faith in their infinitely aged patterns and coordinates yet I know not how to interpret their wisdom. I am riding waves desperately seeking your shore.
For now, I raise my signal flag. I declare my longing. I climb the tallest mast pulling my wool cap to my brow and mediate on the idea that as a patient man I will someday be rewarded for my journey into the abyss and back. And I wonder and hope that some affairs may already be cosmically ordained. So, that I may eventually ride with you to understand the power of your lands never again returning to this sea.
Love,
Your man of mirage and mist at sea.