I Am Awash In A Sea Of Thought

As the moon eclipsed, the sultans of summer flew through the night wind and whispered in my ear, “We’ll see you soon.” The appearance of the first light shot out a moon ray of summer heat on my cheeks, I smiled. Rethink. Repeat. I returned.

I am awash in a sea of thought as I pass the dumpster homes and sidewalk beds along my way to work. The air smells like spring fever and the crocuses are sprouting wildly all over town. Today the rain is like a misty Irish Spring commercial showering my face with the freshness of carbon emissions. It’s the black and the white, the blood and the band-aid, the cosmic force of balance. It’s this constant ebb and flow that gives me hope at the same time as I surrender my hands up to the heavens in a state of complete ignorance. Life is the constant change.

My fingers are introduced to their new friends, the keys, like those of a piano or a vintage synthesizer. Yes, there can be a rhythm in this verbiage diarrhea that in some moments feels like the beat of a song. Or a melody here and a small sample, here and there. Ridiculous. These half assed songs and these unrequited rants of love and life burn fast and fade away in an instant while I am left in disrepair. A push of a button lends to the addition of another friend on this book of faces. Hundreds of you as we claim our social stamp through an online community where maybe only the same five of you have the time to be friendly. All of this connecting and re-connecting into a feeling of disconnection.

It’s an interesting time as I wrestle with each lesson and piece of advice to share with the Prince of Heaven on his so very young journey here on earth. My heart is a multi-tasking super computer attempting to prioritize familial aspirations as I veer off on to the shoulder of the road less traveled. How do we keep to the path while succumbing to the banality of routine and scheduling? Where else is the passion outside of the fire that burns in this child’s eyes to know more? Where am I? Where are you?

This is not a passage of discontent but one of excitement and bewilderment. I have never felt so much peace in the face of the unknown as I am encouraged by the long arm of patience to breathe fresh again. There are only these shades of time to find the colour to ignite new life. There will be many moments like these and other chapters to read of life’s observations, as we continue to proceed through this magical odyssey. This was just one of those moments.

How I Shine Holding My Protest Sign

I think my heart and my mind are somehow in cahoots with one another. Usually they work against each other trying to find their own resolve and on the rare occasion they will collaborate. Yet these days I wonder if they are simply communicating to not communicate. These fingers are slowly finding a rhythm in these keys, in these words to shed light on this black hole of – and then suddenly my eyes blur into one and I seem lost in front of this page. The question? Writer’s block, creative impasse and shaking off cobwebs from this passenger seat – have I lost the map?

I am full of amazement in front of my child as I laugh away with him. There are moments where I trip and fall to find the camera or a pen as I look to document and encapsulate all the numinous expressions. Then the instant fades in front of me but I do not languish in it, or in thinking that I somehow missed it, it just is. Maybe it is simply a new blank canvas that stands in front of me that I find difficult to fill with my own selfish visions of greatness. Constantly inspired by the artistic endeavors of my colleagues sometimes to the point of impossibility. How could any of this ever measure up? How far behind this can feel. This part-time castle-building leaves me speechless and full of humility yet the full-time passion punches plenty of verve as it searches on for its true place in time.

There is a fog lifting at a snails pace, there is a swarming crowd of thoughts scattering to the gunshots of this lost passage. This drum machine heart beat looks to explode every colour to the ground and let it wash away with these grey months of rain. I am splashing like a child in these puddles of discomfort as the water drops singe my hot and weathered skin. I walk along Thoreau through the brush at Walden and find purity flowing effortlessly in the woods. The next minute I am walking in human feces, discarded needles and unforgiving, unhealthy appetites that search right through me for the next fix.

A fifty-foot wave will cut open my chest and set my heart ablaze. The branches of the great Heaven Tree will stitch me back again saving me from my grave. I am in discussions with the angels of bedlam to host the last party on earth. As we await your response the decorations are hung and the bands begin to tune. There is a melancholy melody twanging with the sense of urgency while I search for the right key. Do, re, me I am the unchartered frequency.

The Vampire Weekend sings the story of the ‘campus’ and I am suddenly transported back to the scholastic grounds grasping a politics degree in hand. Oh how it has served me well to dissect the last eight years of dishonesty and criminality. Look how I shine holding my protest sign. It is obvious now when a tree falls in the forest no one hears, for one would think the hundreds of clear cuts worldwide would be deafening. Where are we headed?

Now that you have chosen to wind through this maze of verbiage with no exit in sight, how can I bring you closure when I’m concentrating on opening up?