Revitalization's Weblog

For the curious, questioning, and wandering soul

Archive for memory

What is it?

What is it about a man?

Is it his eyes, that pierce straight into yours, beautiful blues and greens. Is it his smile? That genuine smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes. Is it his jaw? Strong, firm and covered in soft facial hair. Is it his shoulders? His arms? His hands? That pull you in and hold you tight at night, that pick you up and twirl you around, that wipe away the tears from your eyes. Is it his chest? The most heavenly place to rest your head and allow your mind to wander as you feel each and every lub dub. Is it his legs? Long, lean, powerful and able to run beside you. Is it his smell? So intoxicating, it smells of home, of familiarity. It’s a smell that comforts, that reminds you in an instant of the essence of him. Is it his mind? Utterly complex. A mind that knows the world but remains untarnished and unjaded, a mind that is humble and kind, patient and loving, giving and truthful.

What is it about a man?

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Heavy

My mind is heavy, it’s weary even in its youth. Weighed down by tired thoughts that seem to stream through on repeat again, and again. It’s as if my mind is a junkyard, filled with dust and debris scattered here and there. On one side there’s a stack of cars, piled perhaps 10 high, flattened and weathered with worn tires from the miles they traveled, from the world they have seen. On the other, broken and forgotten pieces of home, buried toys of a childhood that is long gone.

delicate

delicate

Steel Arch

Steel Arch

a mix of shapes

Thoughts Are Free

Driving down the road, the sun is bright and radiating. It’s shining and rain patters on my windshield. Naked rain. When the traffic light turns red, I slow down and stop. I look to my right and I recognize a man. I have seen this man only once before, perhaps one month ago. I have seen this man at this same spot. He was sitting on the same bench, on the same side, with the same look upon his eyes. Distant.

From appearance, I assume this man is homeless. He is adorned in the same clothing as before, has a bushy beard, and is covered in a film of dirt from head to toe. As I passed him the first time, I became curious. And passing the man again today only reminded me of my initial interest.

I thought about stuff. About how each or most of us have stuff attached to us– a house, clothes, a bed, a television set, an ipod, a laptop. But we also have other things we are attached to– our parents, our friends, our society. We live embedded in a web of stuff, hoarding more and more as we grow old. But this man, this homeless man who sat on the bench, well, he has less stuff.  He has less. But we share one thing. We all share one thing, one stuff, one intangible item: thought. We all hold thoughts, experiences, emotions.

The mental capacity to think, to remember, and to reflect. All humans have it. This man, perhaps he had no job, no home, no family to go back to. But, he has one thing. He has his thoughts. Thoughts that are all to himself, thoughts that he owes to no one. I found that idea so invigorating, so inspiring.

Decartes said “I think, therefore I am.” The act of thinking, of ideas, of questioning one’s existence and the reality around us. Thoughts are free and freeing- it is all that life truly is: thinking and thinking… until our last day… until our last thought

LIFE. it begins and ends with you.

LIFE. it begins and ends with you.

And all that happens in between, all the heartbreaks, they just fill the middle

You. You enter the world alone, crying and screaming. You grow up, you adapt, you rebel, you begin to realize, you begin to love someone, and you grow old.

But, after all of those years, wondering and hoping and crying and crumbling, you begin to fade away.

You have grown to know the external so well, it almost becomes all that you are.

But, you are still the only thing in this entire world and universe that you truly know.

you have you.

Life, it begins and ends with you. That will never change.