Passion

Fire and ice and everything in between.  

It is will.  

A purpose that guides you, an impulse that sets hand to motion.

It can be a wholly creative or destructive force.  

It is elemental, to be sure, but not in the way we are taught to think.  

It is the passage of Time, not a frozen moment.

Like life, it is a verb, not a noun.

To think of it as something Romantic is, I believe, 

To limit understanding of it and of ourselves, greatly.  

It is flow.  

It is the water from the spout-- hot or cold... a drip-drip-drip or a steady stream... 

Yet, not the water itself, but the action-- 

The motion-- of it moving through our lives.  

It is never, no matter what we may think,

Absent from our presence.

Nor has it left our bosom due to circumstance.

It is a constant, yet always in flux,

Ever changing, morphing, keeping time

With our experiences, our desires, and yes,

Even our doubts.

Never mourn its loss,

Simply quiet yourself long enough to hear

It's new rhythm, find the Tempo

And fall back in step with it.

 

It is not an outcome or a destination, 

But a journey...

Surprise Yourself

I think that everyone should flip a coin to decide at least one thing every day.

It could be something as benign as which flavor of yogurt to pull from the fridge, or as important as whether or not to go to work that day, but whatever it is, it should add a little anarchy to your day.  Because when we feel stuck in a rut, the only thing to do is introduce a little spontaneity into your life.

We all fall into routines, all find a comfort zone, that sooner or later, whether we want it to or not, can grow bars and turn into a cage.  The only way to avoid this is to surprise yourself.  Give yourself the freedom to choose wrongly, and don't sweat the outcome because, hey... it was only chance.

Now, the nature of the thing seems impossible, for you must think to choose, and if you premeditate, how could you possibly be spontaneous?  The answer... flip a coin.  

Step One:

Find a good one.  It doesn't need to be currency, but something with two discernible sides... something weighted, that feels good in your hand.  It should make you smile when you reach into your purse or your pocket-- something that reminds you of silliness and freedom and irresponsibility and fun.

Step Two:

Flip it.

 

Simple.

You never know what is going to create a spark inside you, so why not take a chance and surprise yourself?  You may find yourself somewhere you never you thought you would go... or turn a bad day around with a simple flip of your hand.

 

Beginnings

I love the rain.

I love the rain and all it represents.

It is synonymous with Spring.

It can cleanse, nurture, shelter...

Cover the world in a protective blanket, 

muffle the daily din and transform

the urban beat into a rural, peaceful patter.

It ushers in green where there was only gray,

And soaks into everything underneath,

Making our roots equal to our resolve--

Gutters spilling over with Hope,

Paving a path out of the cold 

and into the blue, orange and yellow 

Heart of all things and

Of the Summer to come.

I grow weary of Winter and Summer,

Never of Autumn or Spring.

Yet, now it is not time for gold and crimson,

But for pink and purple, puddles and play,

Buds and birds and...

Beginnings.

Frozen Ass Balls

I fail a lot.  At all kinds of things.

I break things, forget them, I'm late...

It would be a flat-out lie to say that I succeed as much as I fail, because I don't.  

Not even close.  No one does.

Think of how many times you failed to balance before you learned to ride a bike... 

How many swings did you take before you hit the ball?  

How many freakish, misshapen, frozen ass balls did you create
before finally building a decent snowman?  

Failure has become my friend.   

I spend more time with him than anyone, so why not embrace him?

He's a non-judgmental, jovial rogue who supports me, by, as the kids say:
Keepin' it real.

He doesn't care what kind of day I'm having, or how much I may need a win that month...

He doesn't keep score, and he'll never, ever stop.

Sure, when I think I'm heading towards lovely lady success,

It can be jarring, or downright depressing, 

to come face-to-face with the cosmic Ashton Kutcher springing out from behind a shrub, but...

What am I going to do?

Stand still so he doesn't see me?  

Hide from everyone, so I don't come across anyone? 

Nope.  I don't fear failure because I'm so familiar with him.  

And that, my friends, is the secret he doesn't want you to know.  

It takes the fun out of his job.  Takes the mystique out of the man behind the curtain,

And puts the power to try back where it belongs...

With your desire.

Work in Progress

Chasing my Mojo, smoke in my hands...

Balance, Equilibrium, 

Eyes closed, my Hope open.

Can't push-pull, can't climb, crawl or dig...

The harder I try, 

The further away I get.

Standing still brings me closer.

Yet, just when I'm there,

I reach to quickly

Or hold too tightly...

I forget myself and the chase begins anew.

I am always finding... and losing...

And finding again.

My Mojo, like my life,

A work in progress.

Coming or Going?

Isn't it wonderful how altering your state of mind can make an action change its meaning?

Every open road has two lanes: One venturing away, the other returning home.

Departure... adventure... a longing to explore and reach out.  

Even a familiar destination... excitement bubbles to the surface-- anything can happen.

Opportunity to strike out in a new direction, fly past your comfort zone--

To wander... learn... forge building blocks for something joyous. 

Return.. homecoming... a longing for comfort and security... 

Growth...  lessons learned, renewed vigor...

New experiences applied to the pieces of you where the roots lay--

Familiar surroundings seem brighter... 

Knocking the dust off of things taken for granted.

Exploring our perspectives is the closest we will ever get to understanding real Truth.

 Our lives are beautiful pyramids built of glass,

And the meaning we search for (everywhere), merely reflected light off it's surface.

Yet, if we turn the prism and let the light filter though it...

We can see something entirely new... and usually, something we never expected.

The Other Guy

I always feel like there are two versions of me: The man I am today...

 and this guy.

There is a version of myself that is in the here and now 

and my other, "better" self, waiting in the wings.  

An idealistic example of the me that I am always striving to be.

On rare occasions, these two souls meet, but mostly, one just watches the other--

a reflection, no doubt,

but each claims to possess a different part of me.

I think I am a better person for the effort required, one, chasing the other--

The me in the moment striving to be more and 

the me in my head yearning to be in the moment.

This dance, this... conversation I am constantly having with myself,

is a part of every decision I make... of every choice I choose.

And because of that, I know the one thing that both these guys understand

Is that one can't live without the other.

Certainty is the brazen siren's song-- an echo-- not your own.

Vulnerability... well, that... that is the only true way to find your Voice.