How long hanging
on cloud 9
for a passers-by
me off the dream-whipped
and walk close by
Within the echoed halls of grief
looking for missing pieces
the clawing scrape
leaving traces of the beggar
cut open and searching
for something that will never
Living free may only be an illusion as there is always something hidden waiting to confine the beauty of unfettered space. Maybe an unsuspecting visitor or fence covered with lush camouflage that pretends to be part of the landscape. It fools and traps the wandering dreamer.
Step by step the visionary may walk, hopeful of its future. And in the moment all seems at peace. The surrounding landscape is hushed and still. It lulls those that pass into a false sense of calm. But what may come at the next bend? Is all as it seems?
Best to tread lightly these earthly footsteps. Cautiously move and trust home is within. Freedom may only be skin deep. Found in the echoes of the ancestors. Search for it not in tomorrows, but inside the endless mind.
Sometimes we do something wrong to someone. Sometimes we know we do, sometimes we may not. How the other people handle this can be completely different. And those differences have completely opposite outcomes for us.
I’ve been thinking about only two of those ways in which people deal when I have done something wrong–or even have ‘supposedly’ done something wrong. I say this because in one case, I don’t even know what I did.
In that instance there have been a couple of times where I had very dear friends that just stop being my friend without any explanation. Even though I tried to find out why or what I may have done to illicit this behavior, I never could find out why. This, of course, is disturbing and hurtful. But eventually, something we must move on from.
The second is where someone doesn’t let you forget something that you’ve done wrong and continually reminds you. While they still are your friend, family or whatever–it can come up in conversation when you least expect it. They haven’t let go, completely forgiven or whatever, even if you may have apologized. This, while is slightly better because you are still communicating, can be difficult. It’s a constant reminder and keeps you both stuck in the past.
I guess in the first case, a simple explanation would help. Everyone has the choice to move on from a friendship. But, to me at least, it seems kind to tell the person why, especially if you had something invested in your relationship. And the second case, once you have discussed the wrong doing, we must try to put it behind the best we can and not let it keep staining the present moments.
Of course there are many more times where wrong doings are completely forgiven and we go on even better because of them. They enrich our relationships because of giving us insights to each other and all our facets. When we can love all of someone, even the not so perfect, then that is really an honest kind of love.
There are some folks that search for buried treasure. Some of that treasure may be from sunken ships from long ago that legend tell tales of gold and jewels that went down with these vessels. Divers search and may come up with some beauties, or may find only fish and wood in the depths of ocean, or maybe nothing at all. But it might be the journey alone that draws these seekers, the hope of treasure and wealth and a visit into the past.
I’ve read of current day treasure hunts: wealthy men hiding trunks of money and producing hints with maps given in books that hungry hunters must purchase in hopes of finding the loot. Is it bunk and a lucky gent making his own treasure on unsuspecting innocents, or is there really something hidden waiting for some brilliant detective who can unlock the key?
For me the buried treasure is of a different kind. It’s not material. In fact, I’ve been making efforts to rid myself of material goods, including ones of “value”. What is value anyway but what it means to someone. True, gold and diamonds have value if one tried to sell them in our market, but even these go up and down in price and they can sometimes cost so much they become: invaluable. Museums must hold onto pieces that are such treasures as to become priceless.
No, things are no longer what I am pursuing, but still my treasures have been buried. I’ve felt rather like some great explorer that has gone on a long expedition to some unheard of place to find my gems. The natives were not always hospitable and the climate often harsh. The tools I brought with me I found, at times, were primitive and didn’t quite do the trick as I tried to dig and dig to find this deeply hidden trunk of goods.
The maps I had were often handed to me by people who had no idea where I needed to be or what I was looking for; they were crude and often in a language I did not understand. So I tossed them aside and plunged on, sometimes through jungle brush, other years in desert heat sucking the water out of my pores. But I knew if I kept going, eventually I would find the goods.
There were years that I walked in circles. And sometimes I would just lay down and cry. Sometimes I had the strength of a tiger and the eyesight of an eagle, feeling like I was closer and closer. But then the treasure would slip away and I would have to start again.
I’ve learned over the years now, that the maps I needed were with me written in an invisible ink only I could read. They were my maps to find my treasures. When I looked really closely, I noticed that the path lead me through all those places I had gone: the jungles and deserts and around and around–it’s where the trail led, I just hadn’t seen it before now. None of it was by accident.
And all the people I met along the way, they were in the Legend of the map, part of landscape I was meant to wander on path to the treasure. In fact, when I squinted just right, I saw that I actually had found treasure in each of these villages! There were markings showing that’s where some of the jewels were: the people, even the ones I thought were hostile had given me something I didn’t know, a tiny gem of knowledge.
But after walking, searching and following this map–and scrutinizing it carefully, I saw something that brought wonder to me. It appeared I was coming very close to the buried treasure that I had been chasing for so long. Maybe I’m only steps away now it seemed. The map showed it was at the center of everything: bright and brilliant, overflowing with energy.
I’m almost there now. The treasure. My treasure, buried–inside of me.
How much of our life do we spend looking forward or back? Countless moments wishing about the ideal new future we will have someday or ruminating endlessly over all memories we wish could be do-overs. The hands of the clock just keep spinning as our minds play these scenes in our heads; it doesn’t hold still saving those precious minutes for a later day. No, it marches on ahead in its endless walk toward the end of time, our time at least–and what have we really gained during these memory visitations?
It’s true, there are certain positives that can be created from walking away from the present down our other time zones. Going back in time can prevent us from making the same mistakes (hopefully) by learning what felt wrong to us. And going forward can help us plan so we don’t create some huge disaster in our lives by simply going blindly.
But too much of either maybe isn’t good, is it? Making mistakes is hardly completely preventable and thinking too much about them can fill us with deep feelings of shame and guilt. And maybe taking leaps of faith into future plans may not be such a bad thing–it’s called trust. Trusting your intuition will know when something is or isn’t good for you.
It seems to me the only really effective way to be able to survive with any sense of contentment and ease, is then not to spend quantities of time in the past or present. Rather to live most fully in the present.
“You must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave, find your eternity in each moment. Fools stand on their island of opportunities and look toward another land. There is no other land; there is no other life but this.”
― Henry David Thoreau
If one truly commits to doing this, and it is no easy task as the mind is constantly aiming to pull you off task, then life begins to open up before you with crisp alertness. As each sensory organ gets tuned in to the world around us, everything becomes heightened. Noises leap out, smells drift under our noses, scenery becomes more illuminated and our sense of touch more sensual.
As our mind tends to drift away from the now, which can happen every minute with the distractions of every day life, we can pull it back to this minute by asking it to notice: what do I hear? do I see? what am I feeling right in this second? It is giving us back the gift of time, and while the clock is still moving, it is our lover instead of our prison guard.
“Dost thou love life? Then do not squander time, for that’s the stuff life is made of.”
― Benjamin Franklin
So if we can wed our mind and time, and bring this union to one beautiful moment, then the child created stands still in bliss.
Now it is just long gone memories where we walk together, still close, feeling those moments nearby again. As we speak, the recapture, bringing present the feelings shared in a time of love and family. The falling into each other and the brave actions of daring to create, to take on labels that we each feared had forsaken us from the past. To love was to move outside, to step into something beyond the confines of our own mistrust and give. There was much there, in spite of youth, so much depth and connection. Much was formed, both in me and around us. The union spawned beauty and burned brightly.
And for this I give thanks. Searching the catacombs of the past, all is now just treasure. This will be kept, like an Emperor’s jewel, in the museum of my mind.
A quiet night here…just remembering holidays past. Snow and cold and kids. Nothing like that now.
No warm fires, or decorations or happy voices…or mad wrapping…
Nope, those days are long gone. And only memories to cherish as my Christmas gift. And thank goodness for those!
In the middle of a three day weekend. Lately I’ve been having trouble staying in my ‘now’. I’ve been drifting off into yesterday and tomorrow a lot and I know that’s not good. Sigh.
I’m perfectly aware why it’s happening–it’s the reasons within the now that make me think about different times, both past and future. And it’s also my personality: when it comes to the past, it’s me trying to reconcile the imperfections; with the future, the dreamer pops out.
But where does that leave me now? It’s never good to waste away one’s time not being in the moment. Yes, yes–I know. When I catch myself floating off into another time/space dimension, I do my best to pull myself back to reality and notice the beauty around me. We can always find something good, something compelling if we dig really deep–it just, at times, that the digging must go really far.
So that’s when my time, my rare and precious spare time, can get spent dreaming, searching, thinking and meditating about different points on my life line, .
Then, I ask myself: is time linear? If not, then maybe it’s OK to dream.
It has been very rainy and foggy here lately. With bouts of thunderstorms. I’d imagine it’s the crazy weather system that brought the awful tornadoes that killed so many and caused such havoc in the mid-west. This weather tends to make people edgy after a while I’ve found. They start becoming cranky and irritable. When the sun doesn’t shine for long periods of time, sunny dispositions disappear.
I’ve been having some pretty grave struggles with my ex. For many years now, I’ve put on a brave face and gone along like a good soldier and done my best to get along. I truly wanted no trouble and felt badly that I had left, so only wanted happiness for him and productive co-parenting. I’ve even tried hard with his new wife. I suppose I’m naive and figure that eventually people will move on and forgive once their lives become whole again. And that most people might try to see the best in others. But maybe this just can’t be so…or maybe it’s just the rain.
So I have finally gotten to a point where I will no longer tolerate disrespect or bullying–even if it is disguised with smiles and other tactics that mask someone who pretending to be mature. In actuality the behavior is often wavering between passive aggressive to downright mean. And so many conversations slip back to the past instead of sticking to whatever issue is at hand and the seething anger comes boiling to the top. All I feel is: get over it! It’s been years. I mean seriously.
I simply cannot fathom how someone can continue to be so blind to the things they do and say to someone and refuse to apologize. How everything is always justified when they do it, but terrible awful when you do something they perceive is bad. “Blamers”–a term my friend coined. Very apt to this kind of person. And I will no longer fall as bait. I blamed myself for too long as I heard the voices in my head say I was bad for what I did. His voice was certainly in there. But no longer! The past is over and nothing can change it. I’ve tried to explain to him that we can only make today right, but apparently he doesn’t get it.
Even the sunshine doesn’t seem to help this situation. But I can’t hold this on my shoulders any longer. It’s been too great a burden. It had weighed me down and kept me from loving. Loving myself and being at peace. All we really have is today. The past is gone and we have no idea what tomorrow may bring. Cliche, but true. So no more wallowing in what I did or didn’t do and no-one can make me re-visit it anymore. My Mother used to say: chase the guilt fairy away. And so I have!
Bring on the sun!