Inspiration can be found anywhere you look

I have been indulging in life, and the result has been intoxicating. I have really made a conscious effort to enjoy the simple pleasures that surround me, and practice mindfulness. This has made me very happy.

My private diary has taken a new direction. I suppose I could say that the pages are much more elaborate, and contain mementos of my experiences. This idea to incorporate more visual information hadn't crossed my mind before. I usually just wrote words, and occasionally would sketch pictures. This all changed when I happened to be watching a show on PBS. It was a documentary of a woman who had been writing in journals for 30+ years of her life. She not only wrote words in her diaries, but created beautiful collages. I thought that this was a wonderful idea. I usually hoard ticket stubs, receipts, notes, pamphlets, etc. so it made complete sense to me to include these things in my diary.

The power of writing is so strong that I feel that even after I have died, my memories will live on. The woman being interviewed put into words what I have always felt. She said that she wrote about her life in her diaries to prove to herself that she existed. One day my memory of events, and people will fade. How wonderful it will be to read my journals, and once again experience my memories. The other night I sat on my bed reading my diary from 3 years ago. I was amazed at how much has changed since then. How much I have grown, and how much I have learned. I want my life to continue to evolve into new things. I want to meet new people, and cherish those that are already in my life.

Ellipsis

I buried this person years ago
Yet she returns from time to time
To visit me in my dreams
she returns as symbols,
memories
and intrusive thoughts
Sometimes I thank her
But most of the time,
I curse her...

Invisible Chains

Though I can’t see them,
I know they are there
Rattling as I wander along
Audible only to those who suffer

when you see the strings

It is hard for me to fathom how much evil exists in the world. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed by what I see and all of the stories that I hear on the news, and from people around me. One of my friends told me that she doesn't think about the negative things that occur in the world because negative thoughts will attract the things we fear most. I suppose I can understand why someone might be inclined to think that. Perhaps because in their minds they feel protected, and somewhat in control. However, I do sometimes think about the evil that exists, because I believe that pretending it doesn't exist is dangerous.

I suppose what I'm saying is that you don't have to understand the motivation behind these acts to try to protect yourself from them or help others. I have seen so many things over the years, and those incidents have made me a compassionate person. They have changed my perception on life, people and made me believe in the potential for individuals to overcome adversity. I have also come to realize that many people don't care very much about the plight of others and that makes me feel sad.

I wonder what it would be like to have mind that is free from the knowledge that at any given moment there are people suffering.

A need for transparency

A feeling of restlessness came over me today. My mind began searching for an explanation as to why my creativity has dissipated. For several months, I didn't really think too much about my lack of interest in the things I once loved to do. And then I thought, "what the hell is happening to me?!" I spend a great deal of time playing on my virtual farm, and tending to the needs of my children. I have no qualms about the latter, but I find that my desire to play my farming game is rooted in something that needs to be fully understood. So I sat there on the couch today and I examined my motivations. I came to the conclusion that for these past few months my mind needed to rest, to lose itself in things that are frivolous. I needed to escape my over-analytical self, and escape the heaviness of reality. I needed to remain in a mentally vegetative state, so to speak.

Today I told myself that I have had enough. I accepted that my situation needs to change. It was what I needed before, but is no longer needed now. The desire to paint and write has returned once again. I thought about burning my journals, and starting over. I need to be the person I was meant to be. I need to stop running from myself. Most importantly, I need to believe that I am able to share my soul with others through writing and art.

at my doorstep...

Although I am aware that death is simply a part of life, when it is at my doorstep, I cannot help but feel as though my heart is being crushed. I found out today that my grandmother is dying, and will probably not make it to Sunday. This woman has provided me with strength and courage during some of my darkest times. I know that for a couple of years now she has been very lonely, and ill. However, I wish that she would stay with us for a little while longer. I went to visit her today. She has not spoken or opened her eyes in a week. I spoke to her, told her that I loved her, brought her up to speed on our lives and read her some verses from the bible. I don't know if she heard me, I hope that she did. I began to remember all of the good times we shared, our conversations, and most importantly, what a good friend she was. I am overwhelmed with feelings of loss. I hope that she passes in peace. I hope that before she takes her final breath, she remembers how many lives she has touched in her 95 years of life.

I will go on living, but I will do so with a broken heart.

work in progress

There was once a flower that broke through the icy surface of a woman's heart. It had desired for so long to reach towards the golden sunlight, and turquoise atmosphere. It wondered what it would be like to grow, and be admired.

For what seemed like an eternity, she had been afraid to push forward because the unknown had instilled a deep fear inside of her. After all, there could be potential threats to her existence. More often than not she could hear echoes outside of the icy walls warning her to remain where she was. Eventually the flower knew that if she was to find happiness, she could not remain imprisoned within the walls of a frozen heart. The flower decided to move, push, and break free. She found strength within herself that she did not realize existed. She watched as the pieces of ice shattered into tiny fragments, each with an image of her former self on the surface. The flower grew and it reached out further than it ever had before. Just when the flower had tasted freedom, an icy wind passed and froze it in its place.

"I am a prisoner once again, but I have tasted freedom. The dreams I will dream will sustain me until I can once again build up the courage to break free."