The Stifling Grasp of Quiet

What you get

is directly proportionate

to what

you give.

This is not always the case.

You can be

the kind of person

that gives everything

of yourself

and yet,

receives very little

from those around you.

Or,

you can be that

person

that gives nothing

and gets almost everything.

When it comes to the

inconsistency of

the human experience,

it’s nice to know

that there is one

thing in which

the above cliche

is absolutely true.

Art.

The inspiration

that fuels a project

will only multiply

as you receive the

satisfaction of giving

away a piece of your soul.

Unfortunately,

the reverse is true as well.

Lazy and uninspired thoughts

breed like cockroaches

under a dumpster full of

the decaying bodies of

once great ideas.

This is me.

Trying to give of myself

so that I may receive

a glimmer of creativity.

That is my hope.

That is my prayer.

Because for me,

to live without inspiration

is to be slowly

strangled by the grip of

formless

and silent

thoughts.

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Slurred Future

The forest is gorgeous.

A constant theme

through out the history

of written word.

When walking under

it’s tall boughs,

everything is crisp.

The eye notices

each and every shade of green,

the dimples and crevasses

in the bark,

and how tiny critters scurry into them to escape

the rain.

It is almost as if the forest grants super

human senses.

I am aware of even

the most minute of details.

Then something strange happens.

My gaze goes down

to my feet

and everything blurs.

The asphalt, pine needles,

leaves, and pine cones,

all become an unidentifiable

path of muddled moving color.

Is my brain creating a visual metaphor

for my life?

That I can appreciate

and perceive that

which is happening

in the here and now,

but once I look toward the future,

everything,

all words

thoughts

expectations

and wishes

slur together

like the mumblings of a brazen drunk tweeker.

I think thats normal…

if not,

well,

present is a synonym for

gift.

Pause Button

I have already written of the human need to control that which we cannot.

Time.

Just one of the many entities that cannot be seen or touched, but has more power and lasting effects than a hydrogen bomb.

It is in those moments when you feel the smallest and most isolated–standing before an ancient monument that defies modern engineering and not being allowed to take a picture; huffing and puffing at the top of a hiking trail while you tether yourself to a tree so you can look down the cliff and see the huge trees growing out of the cracks in the lava stone cliffs; or saying goodbye to someone you care for–that you desperately wish time could really be stopped, like in the movies.

Which of course, no matter how hard I have believed, it cannot be done.

What a downer, right?

Wrong!

Time may not be courteous enough to slow down when we want it to, but then again, isn’t that the point? We wouldn’t want our heart to stop just for a couple of minutes would we?

With each millisecond everything is evolving, rejuvenating, and consuming through the time on which we all feed.

To me, that is so mind-blowingly gorgeous! Change, while terrifying, and sometimes painful, is a step forward, whether it seems like it, or not.

Time is a sneaky little minx. Stalking in and around our cells, our relationships, the gears in our cars, and the molecules of the earth beneath our feet. As many times as I wish I could freeze it, it would be no good, because it is the passing of time that makes every moment, every sight, and every heartbeat a miracle.

So stop trying to push the pause button, and take in life as it comes upon you in a tsunami of uncontrollable, unyeilding, and the completely inspiring passing of time.