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Meet your Special Someone™
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Welcome to Ari-Wood. Step right up and see the sights. To your left, you will see the delicate fragility of fairy land. On the right, watch out for the fiery dragons. For your safety, we recommend you stay on the path and don't stray into the netherworlds of risk and chance. Alternatively, perhaps you like the benefits that go along with taking that chance..........
All rights to the poetry and stories in Ari-Wood
belong exclusively to the author.
That which is not mine,
That which is not good,
That which is not altruistic....
Is requested to leave.
The stories and poems encased in this crystal blog are written from my own imagination and in no way are intended to be viewed as written to any specific person unless I specifically state that it is.
My heart is a book which you leaf through as simply as the pages of this blog..
Antiqued an worn
The words bleed
From a hidden place
Deep within my chapters
Where only one can see
And whispering spirits tarry
Frayed are my edges
Yet my gliding
Remains beautiful
Not a mere ornament
But a testament to the tooling
Which has geared my life
Sown tightly is my binding
I have weathered the years
I shine with wisdom an character
Like no other book
Yet my cover bares the marks
Of ordinary use
Turn my pages lightly
And you shall read
My hued memories
Of dreams and dreaminess
Of times and timelessness
Of lives and liveliness
Upon my inner pages
Are scribbled
Achromatic dreams
My love
My hopes
My life
You are such a treasured book
All my love, Sister of my heart
(Written by a special sister of my heart...MsAlchemy2...a special gift...I wanted to share.)
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| Love, Pain, And the Whole Damn Thing |
Jun 15, 2008 10:50 pm
928 Views | Chelle introduced me to a beautiful cd....the singer, Amy Sky...is a Canadian woman with a simply beautiful voice. Her lyrics are written from her life...and speak to me very loudly. As I listened to clips of her songs, I found this very lovely piece...and I wanted to share it. I hope you will look up this artist and try her music. This song is from the cd Burnt by the Sun.
Chelle....thanks...I love this song...and the cd.
Amy Sky - Love Pain And The Whole Damn Thing Lyrics
Its a little secret your friends wont tell
Heavens highway sometimes takes you through hell
Love is work and work is hard
there are ghosts inside the dark
And it takes
Love pain the whole damn thing
if you want my heart you get everything
Love pain the whole damn thing
Its a crown of thorns to wear a golden ring
Love pain the whole damn thing
if you want my heart
you get everything
Cinderella walked upon broken glass
sleeping beauty let a whole lifetime pass
Love is blood and sweat and tears
Love means facing all your fears
And you get
Love pain the whole damn thing
if you want my heart you get everything
Love pain the whole damn thing
Its a crown of thorns to wear a golden ring
Love pain the whole damn thing
if you want my heart
if you want my heart
you get everything
Paradise aint cheap
Heaven keeps us waiting
So baby wait with me
cause if it's love we're making
I'll take it all
Can you take it all
And can you take it all yeah
Yeah And you get
Love pain the whole damn thing
If you want my heart you get everything
Love pain the whole damn thing
Its a crown of thorns to wear a golden ring
Love pain the whole damn thing
If you want my heart
If you want my heart
If you want my heart
You get everything
You get everything yeah
You get love, you get pain
You get love, can you take the pain baby
You gotta give something, If you wanna get something back
You gotta give a little something, If you wanna get something back
You get everything
You get love
You get love
You get love | |
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9 Comments | |
| A Blank Canvas |
Jun 15, 2008 12:56 pm
845 Views | Last year, when Carolyn and I went to North Carolina, Carolyn's sister told me that it was time for me to eliminate the old and get ready for the new. I heard her....I listened to her...and she was right...but as usual...it took me longer than anyone thought to deal with the primary issue.
I've been really stressed lately, between all the extra hours at work...and every time I walk into the house...it makes me crazy to look at all the mess that still remains. Today....I really figured out what I needed to do...and took some action...and I can't tell you how good it feels.
It came to me that a lot of the mess is stuff that doesn't need to be in the main floor of the house...or isn't mine....or just needs to go. I have several storage rooms downstairs, but they have gotten overloaded over the past few years. Still, as I looked at the mess...and thought about what I've been finding in the house, I decided that I just needed to go downstairs and look over the main storage room.
Lots of the mess down there is just stuff that has piled up. Stuff. Dishes I don't use or even want any more. Old flatware that Mer wanted for camping...even though he never went camping. Old lamps, empty boxes...basically...junk. So I began hauling it upstairs...looking it over...and making piles. Stuff for the senior citizen's center to sell, stuff for the trash, stuff that I still want to keep. The stuff I want to keep has to go somewhere...or go away. There's not a lot I'm wanting to keep right now.
I started packing all the stuff I haven't used for awhile...or don't have room for just yet. It needs to be out of my way so I can work on the house. If it matters enough to want to keep...and I use it with some regularity...I pack it and move it downstairs....stuff like my china. I've also begun moving all the house remodeling stuff down onto shelves...in a very typical Ari organized fashion...so that I can find what I need right away...and so that I know what I have. It's slowly clearing out the main floor of the house so that I can move around easily and not be looking at piles of stuff everywhere.
The part I didn't expect....and didn't plan to do...is that I've also been taking down artwork from the walls, personal decorations...everything. I'm taking the rooms down to pretty bare. In a way, it feels as if this is an all new house I am just moving in to. Rooms are getting bare enough that I can paint them and make them into something I love until I get into them to remodel them. It's like being given a blank canvas and permission to do with it what you will. Any traces of the house I lived in before are slowly disappearing and I am making my own little world. It's a good thing.
I'm not sure what tomorrow holds, but I know that life is slowly changing for me. I think that even if I didn't consciously consider it...my subconscious simply realized that I needed to clear out the old....and begin anew.
Where ever life takes me...there will still be bits and pieces of my old life there...pieces I don't care to replace because they were mine anyway....they weren't tied to another person or relationship or situation....they were tied to me. But...there is going to be room in my house for whatever the universe has decided will come. Room for people, things, a new life. Room to live and laugh and love. Rooms that don't ring of other people and their...personalities...but take their shape from whatever comes....however that shape builds.
In time...if it is that I will simply live here on my own...the house will begin to resemble me more and more. If there are other lives that come into my world....it will begin to resemble the life we build together. And truly.....this is a step I think we need to take when we move into our futures. A clearing, if you will, of all that is past....physically, emotionally.....mentally. A freeing.
As I clear the walls of my house down to a stark canvas....this is how I view it. I am freeing me...from the past, from what could be, from all that I most don't want in my life. Take it down, let it go....it isn't what I need.
And in a time....the rebuilding will begin. This time...I hope to rebuild with laughter, joy, giving....and so much love....a place I truly love to call "home". | |
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8 Comments | |
| Dear Dad..... |
Jun 15, 2008 9:17 am
775 Views |  | Dear Dad,
I've been thinking about you today. Sometimes I miss you so very much and I wish, that just one more time, we could sit down for a cup of coffee, a game of Spades, and all the laughter we learned to share. It took us a long time to find that laughter...and to build a relationship that mattered to both of us. We had just begun to find one another....and you were suddenly gone. Still, I'm grateful that I had the opportunity to tell you all the things that I needed to say to you before you were gone.
The past is the past, except where it touched our lives in beautiful colors and splintered into rainbows that lit the corners of our darkness. The last few years we had together were like this....learning to love the person you were...to share with you....to appreciate all that you had given.
Today, I want to appreciate you one more time. I want you to know how much I appreciate how hard you worked to make sure we were all well provided for. That's a strength you passed on to both Ronda and me. We didn't have to leave school in sixth grade to help our families out as you did....but we did learn a strong work ethic....and a drive to do well at our jobs...from you. It's served us both well over the years.
It took me a long time to appreciate how hard it must have been for you to teach yourself Algebra and Trig so you could help me with the class...particularly in light of the fact that you never finished school. It took me hearing my words in Tiana's mouth....to understand just how selfish I had been about it...."You don't understand...it isn't how they want us to do it...just let me do it my way." Still, you kept trying to help....and teaching yourself more and more...and I was the most blind child and could not see how hard you tried. Truly, I was locked in our other battle...and too busy hating to find any love in my heart.
In lots of ways, you were a terrible father when I was young....and you had to really fight with yourself not to be the same person with your granddaughter....but I want you to know how much you succeeded with her. To this day you are one of her heros. You are the only grandparent who gave her love and joy....and made her feel as if she were someone very special. I hope she always remembers the man she knew....and loves so very much...just because you learned to give love in a way that helped her.
You were such a simple man...and so complex....and I spent a lot of years hating you....and only a handful with the man I came to love. I remember every one of those beautiful years today. I remember going to your shop in the morning to have coffee and to get a quick hug before work. You made my other nightmares stay at bay for a time....and I can't ever thank you enough for that. You listened and encouraged and offered advice....and you taught me how to laugh. I even remember the fishing trips we all went on together. I remember how much mother hated that I would go...and that meant she had to go. It was our time together. All the time we had never been able to share when I was younger....and I would never trade a memory. Somewhere in that time...I learned to forgive a lot of what had been between us. In many ways....you taught me how to love...even though it was you who taught me how to hate, as well.
I woke up this morning with you on my mind. Sometimes the loss of the relationship we had built is overwhelming. In time, you had become the only person I could lean on....and I did lean, Dad. I did learn that you were strong in ways I had never known before....I did learn how desperately you needed to be loved....as much as I needed to be loved.
When you died....it shattered me. It took me a long time to accept that you were gone. You had been this huge looming monster in my life for so long....and this big loving teddy bear for such a short time...and I needed you so badly.
In all the times I've talked to you since then....I've never told you this....although I'd guess you know. When Mom got rid of everything related to you....I took four shirts out of the bags she sent to Goodwill; three of your bright plaid shirts....and one of your military shirts. I don't know if I'd ever realized what a distinctive scent I associated with you. Those shirts still have that scent, even today...thirteen years later.
Back when you died....and even today....and on any day that I've wished you were still here with me....I put one of those shirts on and wrap myself in the scent of you. It's a warm and loving feeling and I just sit and remember...sitting in the back of your shop with a cup of coffee....sitting at my table and poring over books of cabinets...sitting at your table and laughing over cards. I think of what you would tell me to deal with whatever is happening in my life at the time....and I remember your deep laughter...your gentle caring...and I feel safe and warm and loved. Isn't it interesting that the person I once feared most in my life...would become the person to give me the love I so badly needed as an adult?
I'm wearing that army shirt today, Dad. It reminds me of all that was good and loving between us...of all you gave....and all I gave....and how we somehow found our way through a mire of anger....to one another. I miss you so much. I hope that where ever you've gone in life....and death...you've found forgiveness, love, and joy. I hope that you've learned to forgive yourself. No matter how long our eternal time is....it's still too short to spend in bitter remembrance of what once was. Feel instead....the gift you gave me....a gift that helped to keep me going when times were dark...a gift I still feel today.
I am so much like you, Dad. It makes Mom crazy that we look so much alike....we view the world through very similar eyes....we share our twisted senses of humor. I learned long ago to control that fiery temper you gave me....a lesson that took you much longer to learn....and I have your strong ethical standards. And...like you...I learned to use all that had gone before...to become a stronger, better person.
Chip told me yesterday that I'm the strongest woman he knows. I had to consider that a very long time. That strength began with you in more ways than I like to admit. I had to be strong to survive the father you were when I was a child....I think I inherited a certain amount of strength from you...and in those last years with you....you taught me so much more about being strong. You still give me strength Dad....even today.
I love you.....I am so grateful for those wonderful years with you....and I hope...that where ever you have moved on to...you always know how very much I love you.
In the end, Dad....it comes down to how we are remembered...and how we helped our children to grow. I hope you always know...that much of who I am today....is because of you, inspired by you...and even guided by you.
Happy Father's Day, Dad.
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And for all the father's in my life....I hope that today you too feel loved, appreciated, needed. It is because of your guidance that your children become strong and capable people able to share love, joy...of themselves. Each day with you is a gift only you can give. Celebrate it...celebrate life....celebrate the life you created.
Your children are a reflection of who you are...good and bad. Look deep into them...and give as only you can; guide as they need to be guided. And on this one day....celebrate all that you have done so well.
Happy Father's Day to each and every one of you.
The picture I have posted here is one of the very few I have of my father....and me...from a very long time ago. |
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2 Comments | |
| Getting Over Fear? |
Jun 14, 2008 10:46 pm
833 Views |  | I killed a spider the other day. It very stupidly walked across my desk and scared the snark out of me....shocking me right out of a conversation and making me....actually pick up a fly swatter and kill the first bug I've intentionally killed in more than 20 years. I usually hire someone else to do it.
The spider was not innocent. It knew it was crawling across my desk and freaking me right the heck out. It was also not smart. It died for it's stupidity. Spiders....are NOT our friends. They scare us spitless and then sit back and giggle at us. I know this from personal experience.
The person I was speaking to immediately called me a murderer and made me feel very bad for murdering a so-called innocent spider. He'd have made a great defense attorney. I was feeling guilty before he even finished his first five minutes of harassment.
He called me the next day to tell me he's giving me a spider. I don't hardly think so. "Oh yes...you are getting a spider. You need to learn that spiders are our friends. You need to get over your fear of spiders." I'm not quite sure when I conceded that I was getting a spider. It was probably after he'd force fed it to me for an hour or two. I'm very stubborn, you know.
Then he decided to name MY spider Sunflower. Who the heck would name a spider Sunflower? You have to be doing psychodelic drugs to think that's a good name. I want to name it Pixie. It will fit right in to my delusional world with a name like that. We finally settled on Fang.
Then we had to decide where in my house the spider is going to live. I vote for Spider City. He'll fit right in down there. HE says it has to live in my bedroom. I think he has lost his rock-picking mind. There is no way I'm letting a spider live in my bedroom. What kind of spider? A tarantula. Now I know he's lost it. And I have to hold it and talk to it and love it.....and I want to puke. I think not.
How about this....I'll hold it after you hold it. Oh yeah...HE's not holding it. Bite me...neither am I. I will hold it after I pick it's legs out of the bird from hell's teeth. I think it should live in my guest room. I need a full time guest. Nope...he wants it to live in my room. Not in a hundred million billion gazillion years. No, never...NOT!
What do spiders eat? Bugs. Where the heck do you think I'm going to buy bugs in tiny town? You'll have to catch them. Not happening. This spider will starve to death. I proposed a fair deal....he gets to catch the bugs. We all know boys and their predilection for playing with bugs. Hmmmm...he said he would....if I'd let the spider sleep in my room.
Somehow....I ended up agreeing. I'm trying to remember where I put my sanity....cause it sure isn't in my mind...... |
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10 Comments | |
| My New Blog Message..... |
Jun 13, 2008 11:43 pm
1531 Views |  | Hi, you've reached the Fairy Hotline. The fairy is temporarily out of order and unable to respond rationally. If you'd like to take a number or leave a request for information, she'll be happy to call you back when they let her out of that padded room she's in. The dispensation of fairy dust has not been halted due to her incipient insanity, but we do recommend you exercise extreme caution when receiving your fairy dusting. Fairy dust has a tendency to cause rampant running of the mouth, naughtiness, and uncontrollable laughter.
Thank you for calling and have a wanderful day. |
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54 Comments | |
| Where Does It Go From Here? |
Jun 10, 2008 10:14 pm
1109 Views |  | When I write a story, it is as if the words are magically generated beneath my fingers. I rarely think much about what I am writing, I just let it flow out of me. Occasionally….as in this story…I hit a patch where I draw a blank. Truly, it is not a blank but that there are pieces I am not sure I want to write. Sometimes it seems as if writing it down either creates it….or negates it. What do I write? Do I write the ending my heart wants to write? Do I write the ending I think will happen? Do I write it as a story…or as a hope?
Most of the time I write about a subject that is on my mind. As I write the words, my thoughts become clearer and clearer until I can at last be at peace with the place I’ve reached. Perhaps I was trying to be sneaky with this story. Perhaps I was trying to let my fingers tell me the ending. If that was the case, it did not happen. I am not given to know what outcomes are in store for me. I may know what twists my path will take, but never what resolution will be arrived at.
So it is with this story. I bring it to a close at this point and allow you to consider what ending you would choose….and how you would write it. I know the ending my heart calls out for….but I cannot write the ending without experiencing the journey. Until then….I leave you to your own conclusions. |
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6 Comments | |
| Revelation |
Jun 10, 2008 10:06 pm
986 Views |  | Although he was intently focused upon his own meditation, he was aware of the moment in which she turned to look at him. His eyes opened and he looked deeply into hers. He wondered if she was aware of the pathway he had just stepped upon but found it impossible to take an answer from the soft smile she gave.
“You meditated with me.”
“Yes.”
“Did you find it relaxing?”
“No.”
Her smile dimmed slightly as she drew in his answer.
“I’m very sorry. I don’t always find it relaxing, but I always find it thought-provoking.”
“I can agree with that.”
“Then you gained something from it…even if it was only something to think about. I’m so glad.”
He hugged her close and closed his eyes for a moment simply breathing in the scent of her. She was the fresh air he had wanted to experience for so long. He was the warmth she had hungered for all her life. They spoke at the same time.
“I need to tell you something.”
She laughed. “Ok, you first.”
“No, ladies first.”
“I think not. You started it, you finish it.”
“I think I met your Lady.”
She drew back and looked at him. “Did you? And how did you feel about that?”
“Confused, resistant; it feels like I’m talking to myself.”
“It does, doesn’t it? And yet, I’ve always found that things are put into a different perspective….that I have to face a reality I might not want to face. She’s very difficult.”
“It’s almost like talking to you, except she gets right to the point and you like to dance around it for a while.”
“Hmmm…I can be insecure about saying what’s on my mind, particularly if I’m not sure how you will take it.”
“It’s easier if you just say what you are thinking. It gets confusing when you try to say things so they aren’t obvious.”
“Is it that apparent?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes fell as she softly said, “I’m sorry. I’ll work on it.”
“Don’t be sorry. There’s nothing to be sorry about.”
“Was it a rewarding meeting?”
“Are you going to look at me?”
She was silent.
“Are you sulking?” Placing his fingers gently under her chin, he raised her head until he could look into her eyes.
“Maybe.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about.”
“I know. “
“So let it go.”
“I have.”
“What did you want to tell me?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
“No, tell me now.”
“Bossy, aren’t you?”
“Are you going to tell me?”
“That I love you? I think I just did.” |
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2 Comments | |
| Speak the Words |
Jun 9, 2008 8:55 pm
856 Views |  | “Speak the words. Always you would have me speak the words. What words would you hear this day? What words would bring silence? What words must I speak?”
“You must speak truth.”
“Who’s truth? Do I speak the truth of the majority; the truth of the minority; your truth, my truth, his truth….what truth do you ask of me?”
“Why are you so afraid to speak of what dwells within your heart?”
“My truth is not all truth, it is only mine. My truth does not bind others to it, nor does it ensure that what fulfills it will be forthcoming.”
“Would you seek that insurance? That if you spoke your truth all would be as you wish it?”
“Yes. No. But I want it to be so, Lady.”
“Is this what you have come to? Are you so self-centered that your own wishes become all that is important to you?”
“Yes, I am so self-centered. For how long have you pressed me to satisfy the demands of my promise before the gem? For how long have I lived with only those needs which fulfill life being met? In this time, in this place, finally I have found some semblance of all that you have promised, and you tell me that I am self-centered to hunger for it?”
“Child, it is not that you hunger for it, it is that you would allow it to make you weak and afraid. What value is there in fear?”
“Do we not all fear baring our souls before one who has the ability to reject or ridicule us?”
“Does fear give us strength? Does fear make us better? Does fear add anything to your existence?”
“So much risk you ask of me, Lady. I do not risk well at this level. Of what benefit is the risk when we have no basis to gauge the chances of success?”
“Your chances of succeeding in life are slim. All will one day come before us and be taken home. What benefit is there in risking at life, then? Why would you risk your life to help another? Why would you even risk opening your eyes in the morning if there is no benefit?”
“Have I told you how much I hate it when you hand my head to me on a platter?”
“Many times, beloved. Speak the words and let your heart soar free.”
“My truth, Lady….that the heart so long protected, that the soul which has envisioned freedom on the wing of a butterfly, that every essence of me cries out for him. If this is love, Lady….it is both beautiful and terrifying.”
“Is it love, child?”
“It is love. Why do you give me one to love so deeply when you know that it will devour me?”
“Love does not devour, nor will it devour you. This is fear speaking. You devour yourself with your own uncertainties. Love contains risk as all of life contains risk. Each time that he walks out a door, you will risk his not returning. Each time that you close your eyes, he will risk your never again awakening. This is the manner of living. Would you give up this love in order to return to the knowledge that you can survive with no risk of your heart being broken? Would you give up all that you have found to ensure that none will ever hurt you again?”
“No, Lady. I would give up no moment of the time available to me. If he were to be taken from me tomorrow, still I would have all of today to bask in his glow.”
“This then, is love. Cherish it always, and share of it, always. He will need your hand, child. He will need you to guide him when he is tired and feels alone. He will need you to bring him laughter and to hold him when he hurts. Will you wrap your heart around him and hold him dearer to you than yourself?”
“I have already done so.”
“And finally you grow into your own strength. Let him be the beacon that shines for you and always guides you home. Let him be the hearth that warms your heart when life grows cold. Let him be the strength you lean against when all about you have fallen. Always will he hold you up….and always will you hold him close. It is as it should be.”
And slowly, as the Lady’s voice faded into silence, she opened her eyes and gazed deeply into the stream. Her eyes lit on a small rock with swirls of delicate blue and purest white and she reached her hand down to pick it up. It was smooth and cool beneath her fingers but she felt the core of it warm to her touch. Tucking it into a safe pocket, she turned to watch this man who had similarly warmed her heart as he meditated beside her. |
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4 Comments | |
| What Do You Want......? |
Jun 9, 2008 8:20 pm
845 Views |  | A simple question, and the answer too was simple; you would think it would be easy to say. I find so much easy to say these days…and the things I most want to say, so very difficult. The question is taken out of context, but it was the question that my mind focused on…”What do you want…..?” No, that wasn’t the total question, but my mind stopped hearing at this point. It swirled in misty currents as the words I want to say surfaced and demanded exit. I wondered what you would think if I answered the question honestly. Not what do I want from you…not what do I want for this….but what do I want.
It is so very simple and yet the words will not be spoken. You’ve told me what you want and I loved that you were so honest even though I felt my heart crack at the words…even as I felt so much pride for you in your answer. I have no right to question; I have no right to dream or imagine; I have only to say just once, just to myself, “What do I want?”
Strangely, I spoke to my brother last night about all the dreams I have ever had…not night-time dreams, but the dreams my life has been built upon. Ambitious, there are few more ambitious than I. Always I have wanted to be more, better, smarter, quicker. Always I have wanted to prove myself in such a way that no one could ever again deny me. I have value. I have worth…and here…let me show you. Let me show you in such a way that you can never again compare me to others and find me wanting. Let me be the BEST. I needed it as much as I needed air.
I thought that need diminished in the past few years…until I was asked…would you move….if I gave you a plant of your own…to be the accounting manager there. Oh yes, the sweet taste of success. To be offered my education, a better position, a position of respect….everything I had ever wanted to take back to those who had denied me acceptability for so long. I would finally, finally be able to say…look at me…I’ve made it beyond what you ever imagined I could do. Last night I realized that I couldn’t care less.
My brother asked me, “Him…or this great job? Assume he hates the idea of this city. What do you choose?”
“I choose him because the job is nothing and he is everything that matters to me. How much more do I need? I have a job I love, a home I love, and friends who make my life a joy.”
“I never thought I’d hear you say that, Rene.”
“Neither did I.”
“He must be very special.”
“He is. I think I’ve only just realized how very special he’s become in my world.”
“What about proving to Mom that you are as good as any of us?”
“What do I care what she thinks of me? She’s never going to say that; she’s never going to believe that…and proving myself to her…just became the least important task on my list. I can’t change her and even if I could, it would never satisfy me as this man does.”
“Then you have your answer.”
“Yes, I have. At least, I have all the answer I can have.”
“Is it enough?”
“It must be. I cannot speak for another.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I have more than I ever imagined possible. I never thought I would love and trust with all of me. Time will tell what time will tell. I cannot press for more.”
“I wish for you…all that your inner heart wishes for you.”
“Wish instead…all that is meant to be. What my inner heart wishes may only be my heart speaking. I cannot ask for what is not meant to be.”
“I wish you more than you wish yourself.”
“I love you, too.”
What do I want? To feel the love that wraps me so securely in warmth and laughter all the days of my life. Beyond that…everything else becomes unimportant. Somewhere in the past few months I realized that I feel so much joy in just this simple feeling; a sense of being loved, the sense of being accepted for who I am, the sense of being understood and appreciated. I can’t imagine anything in life ever being so important…as the sense of belonging.
It is a gift you give to me. I hope you know that. Always. |
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6 Comments | |
| A Search for Truth |
Jun 9, 2008 4:36 pm
797 Views |  | I slept poorly again last night. I grow weary of the nightmares, waking once to find myself crosswise on the bed, legs dangling over the side, and again to find myself tangled in sheets. This is atypical for me. I rarely have such horrible dreams; I rarely twist and turn so thoroughly in my sleep. I know there is much weighing me down just now. So many steps to consider, so many possible twists of fate; and a vague fear becomes my constant companion. How I wish I didn’t have to wait, but that what will come would come now. It is always easier to face those things that bring us fear swiftly than to have it drawn out. And so…the tension mounts within me and although I choose to put it from my mind, still there is a vague thought drifting in the deepest corners. Be always alert, be always cautious, take all the steps you can take.
Have I told you how much your words soothe my fears? You help me to find a place where I feel better able to cope with anything….and it is possible for me to press back the fear and simply believe that everything will work out as it is meant to work out. Surely, after all this time, it is not meant to be that it should go poorly…yet if it is, I would wish you always to know what you have done for me. You are a light within the darkness of all that threatens…and come what may, you have brought a lasting light to me. This then, I thank you for.
*********************************************
He sat silently for a time, pondering the words which had been shared. Truly, he did not believe in any of them yet there was a ring of truth to all of them. What had brought him to this point of debating lifelong thoughts with himself?
“Still you think only that it is you? Is this all you think of?”
“Of course not. I think of many people and many things, but as regards you, I find it impossible to imagine that I have only to come to a place such as this to find something I have questioned and searched my heart for all my life.”
“Have you truly searched your heart? Yes, you questioned. You questioned the very concept that anything more powerful could exist. You questioned the reality of any power caring about individuals. You questioned which truth was truth. Have you found your truth yet?”
“I have found a truth I can accept.”
“Have you, indeed? This child beside you has also searched and questioned. In her own way she asked each question you asked and perhaps even more for her existence was bound more tightly to her truths. Many years did she spend seeking truth within all written word, within all spoken word, within her own heart. She too has found her truth. Is your truth more valid than hers?”
“I did not say that, but I cannot believe in her truth; it is simplistic and unrealistic.”
“So simplistic that you sit upon the cold ground in a silent glade mentally conversing with an entity you do not believe in.”
His mind recoiled from the very logical words given to him. If he did not believe in the conversation he was having, why would he continue it? Withdrawing his mind from the thoughts he had been sharing, he began to count numbers in his head.
“1, 2, 3…”
“4,5,6…does this make me less real?”
“7, 8, 9, 10….”
“You can focus your thoughts single-mindedly all that you like, does it stop you from hearing my words?”
“11, 12, 13, 14, 15….”
“And still you try so hard. You are determined, mortal man.”
“I will clear my mind.”
“Your mind is already cleared and has been all your life. You are logical and quite concise when you choose to be. You are not given to what you see as romantic notions, but only to believe in what is concrete and demonstrable. Still, you also believe in concepts you cannot see. You believe you can draw in air; you believe that love exists and can thrive; you believe in karmic consequences; why then is it so hard to believe that anyone can speak to the higher power they believe in?”
“If I could really speak to you, where were you all those years I asked for help? Where were you when you could have helped me to prevent all that has happened in my life…in the lives of those I love?”
“Is it truly for us to influence the choices you have made? Would you give up all ability to choose for yourself? In order to allow us to intervene and rectify what has been done, you would be required to sacrifice free will. Is this a choice you would make?”
“No, but I cannot understand, if you can speak to me now, why you did not speak to me then. Why wait for just this moment in time?”
“Because it was at just this moment in time that you allowed your heart and soul to open sufficiently to hear me. Always I have answered you. It was your choice not to believe. It was your choice not to hear.”
The simplicity of the answer shattered many of his doubts.
“And now I have chosen to hear you?”
“You could only find the way to me through free will and choice.”
“Why now? Why would I choose this now?”
“Only you can answer that question.” |
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