Revitalization's Weblog

For the curious, questioning, and wandering soul

Archive for spirit

Mindful

The music starts to play, lightly, the piano sings a soft lullaby, lulling your mind, sweeping your thoughts into currents and eddies, floating effortlessly, moving with the air, with the wind. You watch the keys dance, ivory white leaping and diving in a choreographed ballet with their jet black partners following in suit. It’s as if that’s all they know, because it is all they know and all they will ever know. Their purpose and their intention being to follow their bony puppeteers, the true orchestrators, and translate thought into harmonious cadence, inviting unsuspecting listeners to be swept up in sweet serenity.

I’ve known love once

I’ve known love once. I fell in love once. I don’t think I knew what was happening, because I had never known love before. He was beautiful, he was charming, he adored me. Slowly, we fell in love. And there were moments, those outer body moments, where it was like I was watching us, so in love, wanting that moment to last forever and wondering if everyone in this world has felt bliss like that. I wanted to live in that heaven for eternity, laughing, smiling and in utter bliss. We had such beautiful moments, full of passion, utterly real, two people completely vulnerable, honest, and wrapped up in each other. I loved the way in smelled, the way he felt- his skin, his hair, his jaw, I loved the way my eyes met his. He showed me himself, he gave me everything. Needless to say, that when it ended, it was like a sucker-punch to the stomach, the wind was knocked out me, I saw my utopia disintegrate in front of my eyes, my heaven shattered. And in a split second, he was gone. I found myself alone, without my lover, my best friend, my person. I’ve never felt such pain, such distress, such confusion, such longing, such loss, such sorrow. It was like a death. I couldn’t understand, I couldn’t fathom how a love like that could fall, break, dissolve, disappear…. simply end. I don’t think I understand it fully, even to this day…. I don’t know if I ever will, but maybe that is because I was only half of it, half of us. But also, I don’t think any answer or reasoning will ever satisfy my deep sorrow for why it ended. Why our love wasn’t enough, why we couldn’t make it work. Still, I think I have gained some understanding, some closure, some peace because in my heart and in my mind, I know it wasn’t right, I know that if I went back it would have been settling, it would have been dishonest, it would have been cowardly, it would have been out of fear of being alone. So, there are two things I now know for sure: we were deeply in love and we should not be together.

Do I regret falling in love now knowing the gut-wrenching pain that followed when it ended? No, I don’t. I would never and could never regret that. Because now I have known what love is, what it feels like to love someone so deeply, and to be loved by someone so deeply. It’s like nothing else I’ve known. That gives me hope, that gives me excitement that there is even more to discover. It seemed like and still seems like finding love is like hoping for lightening to strike you. It seems like such a beautiful, awe-inspiring, and amazing thing like love would be such a rarity, that to be able to discover it again may be every so close to impossible, but I’ll take that odds. I, right here and now, take those odds, I bet on myself, I bet on love. Always bet on love. I’m better for the experience, I am more knowledgable and more understanding of what’s out there, and I’m even more excited and eager to discover what I have yet to know or experience. As I peer out towards the future, the unknown excites me, who I will become excites me, and who I will come to know excites me. I’m not waiting for love, I’m not putting my life, my aspirations, my dreams on hold, but I’m hopeful. Hopeful that I will find another love that is deeper, truer, and more enlightening than my last. I sit here, at peace, happy and ever so hopeful.

the earth may not blink, not even pause for a moment

let the politicians figure it out. let them fight the fights. let the soldiers go to battle.

sometimes, I think it’s all overwhelming. I think all that is here, on this earth, it’s too much–all the people, all the suffering, all the fighting, all the arguments, all the killing, all the sadness, all the joy, all the beauty, all the births and all the deaths, all the life changes, all the milestones, all the relationships, all the animals, all the diversity, all the open spaces, all the deep oceans, all the stars in the sky, all the vastness, all the evolution, all the religion, all the politics, all the thoughts, all the beliefs, all the misunderstandings, all the relationships, all the marriages, all the families, all the childhoods, all the nightmares, all the fears, all the faith, all the rivers, all the trees, all the woods, all the shorelines, all the specs of sand, all the cars, all the planes, all the trains, all the poverty, all the disease, all the hunger, all the hopelessness, all the damaged, all the injustice, all the talk, all the noise, all of it. All of it, constant and real.

how does one wrap one’s mind around all of it, constantly changing, morphing, evolving? how does one keep track? how does one make any sense out of everything? It’s terrifying, and amazing, sad and joyous, earth-shattering and awesome. It everything. And, when were in the middle of it, in the thick of this madness, in the center of the storm, in between foresight and hindsight, I can only find indescribable fear that one day, it will all be gone.

All of it, gone from memory, gone from conciousness. And the earth may not blink, not even pause for a moment, not even flinch. Time will go on, people will keep moving, talking, and the noise will only get louder.

I don’t understand. I cannot comprehend why there is such cruelty, such disregard. To experience something so awesome, so tantalizing, so inspiring, only to have to leave it, leaving not a trace and taking… nothing.

Delicate Arch

Delicate Arch

sink.

sink into life.

feel it wrap its arms around you

feel it like the paint oozing between your fingers

feel it like the mud between your toes

close your eyes and with a soft smile upon your lips, feel it in the wisps of the wind

it’s stirring, it’s buzzing. every inch of this earth. the people, the cities, the tiny microbes

it’s overwhelming really. but to capture all that life is, well that would simply suck the wind right out of you.

to be aware of such utter brillance…. well that’s nearly impossible

it’s like staring at a thousand suns, you simply must to look away.

All we can do is take it piece by piece, and moment by moment, and be simply overjoyed that I’m here, because of one million chances, one million twists and turns, one million maybes. I’m here.

While it may be dumbfounding, and perhaps it will never ever make sense, here we are, in a utopia laid out before us.

here we are.

sink into life

feel it wrap its arms around you

reality within a dream is reality

MY dreams are amazing. beautifully filled with 5 senses– sight, well of course. the taste of chocolate, the smell of lemons, the touch of a passionate kiss, the sounds of human voice. perhaps the only sense lacking is reality in the traditional sense. But for that moment, for those utterly passionate moments, reality within a dream is reality. Without one doubt, the dream convinces the mind. Or perhaps the mind convinces the mind.

Dreaming, simply not so simple, is a space for the mind to wander. A space for the mind to fulfill desire, to face fears, to be invincible. It’s a reality completely our own. A reality, created somewhere between lobes of my brain. A full-fledged universe, with all the bells and whistles. A world undeniably mine, created and destroyed night after night after night.

Within that world, just as justifiable as the reality we exist in, the mind acts out, unharnessed from the ties of logical consciousness. Chaotic and oh so wonderful.

rain drops dropping down

It’s raining. Wet and gray. The outside seems serene, very quiet.

I like the calmness. It lets me take a moment and just…. settle.

Sink down into the gray haze. Stay still.

Life’s short.

Life’s short. Life seems all too short when you think about all the experiences you could have. All the things you could do, all the people you could meet. I have this fire inside of me, this passion, this strong desire to experience absolutely everything. I love where I live- California is beautiful, the rolling green hills, the beautiful oceans and bays. I fall in love with the countryside every single time I drive through, especially at sunset. It’s gorgeous. But, I imagine there is a million and one places on this earth equally stunning. I want to go everywhere– northern Maine, south of Italy, the Swiss Alps, and every place in between. Even more so, I would love to live in these places. Experience life in every city. I mean really experience day to day life: immersion.

I wish I could have grown up in a small country town, where one’s childhood consists of growing up surrounded by nature. Learning about yourself while learning about the woods, the creeks. A natural, pure life barely affected by an outside influence. I wish I could have grown up here, perhaps somewhere deep in Louisiana or Virginia. And, likewise, I wish I could have spent my teenage years living in Boston, Seattle, or New York City. Living the city life, and soaking in everything chaotic and exhilarating. These are the extremes, farm life and city life, but I’d like to know those and everything in between.

I want to travel to the furthest countries, to the sleepy European towns, to the Australian outback, to the seaside of South Africa. I absolutely love traveling because there is so much beauty not only in landscapes, but in culture and especially in people. They people you meet traveling, not only the locals, but those passing through. The fellow travelers, who are on the same quest as you: trying to soak in as much of the world possible, searching for a journey, for an adventure.

I wish we had limitlessness in life. I wish anything was possible and everything was achievable. We rarely get to choose our life experiences because, for the most part, but I wish it wasn’t so. I wish I could have more, I wish I could do so so much more. Travel and live everywhere, experience first-hand the sheer beauty that exists across the globe.

The impossible is possible tonight

“Time is never time at all
You can never ever leave, without leaving a piece of youth
And our lives are forever changed
We will never be the same
The more you change the less you feel

Believe, believe in me, believe, believe!
That life can change, that you’re not stuck in vain
We’re not the same, we’re different.
Tonight, tonight, tonight
So bright
Tonight, tonight

And you know you’re never sure
But you’re sure you could be right
If you held yourself up to the light
And the embers never fade, in your city by the lake
The place where you were born

Believe, believe in me, believe, believe!
In the resolute urgency of now
And if you believe there’s not a chance tonight
Tonight, tonight, tonight
So bright tonight, tonight!

We’ll crucify the insincere tonight (Tonight)
We’ll make things right, we’ll feel it all tonight (Tonight)
We’ll find a way to offer up the night (Tonight)
The indescribable moments of your life (Tonight)
The impossible is possible tonight (Tonight)
Believe in me as I believe in you,
Tonight, tonight, tonight,
Tonight
Tonight…”

-Smashing Pumpkins

Living Like Weasels

I’ve always loved Annie Dillard’s language. It’s so powerful, and Living Like Weasels truly a beautiful piece of literature. Here are my favorite excerpts:

“Weasel! I’d never seen one wild before. He was ten inches long, thin as a curve, a muscled ribbon, brown as fruitwood, soft-furred, alert. His face was fierce, small and pointed as a lizard’s; he would have made a good arrowhead. There was just a dot of chin, maybe two brown hairs’ worth, and then the pure white fur began that spread down his underside. He had two black eyes I didn’t see, any more than you see a window.

The weasel was stunned into stillness as he was emerging from beneath an enormous shaggy wild rose bush four feet away. I was stunned into stillness twisted backward on the tree trunk. Our eyes locked, and someone threw away the key.

Our look was as if two lovers, or deadly enemies, met unexpectedly on an overgrown path when each had been thinking of something else: a clearing blow to the gut. It was also a bright blow to the brain, or a sudden beating of brains, with all the charge and intimate grate of rubbed balloons. It emptied our lungs. It felled the forest, moved the fields, and drained the pond; the world dismantled and tumbled into that black hole of eyes. If you and I looked at each other that way, our skulls would split and drop to our shoulders. But we don’t. We keep our skulls. So.

He disappeared. This was only last week, and already I don’t remember what shattered the enchantment. I think I blinked, I think I retrieved my brain from the weasel’s brain, and tried to memorize what I was seeing, and the weasel felt the yank of separation, the careening splash-down into real life and the urgent current of instinct. He vanished under the wild rose. I waited motionless, my mind suddenly full of data and my spirit with pleadings, but he didn’t return.”

And later she writes….

“We could, you know. We can live any way we want. People take vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience–even of silence–by choice. The thing is to stalk your calling in a certain skilled and supple way, to locate the most tender and live spot and plug into that pulse. This is yielding, not fighting. A weasel doesn’t “attack” anything; a weasel lives as he’s meant to, yielding at every moment to the perfect freedom of single necessity.

I think it would be well, and proper, and obedient, and pure, to grasp your one necessity and not let it go, to dangle from it limp wherever it takes you. Then even death, where you’re going no matter how you live, cannot you part. Seize it and let it seize you up aloft even, till your eyes burn out and drop; let your musky flesh fall off in shreds, and let your very bones unhinge and scatter, loosened over fields, over fields and woods, lightly, thoughtless, from any height at all, from as high as eagles.”

 

If you love this as much as I do, google it and read the whole thing.

i’ll follow you back with the sun in your eyes

baby doll. you’ll be okay. look up, what do you see? stars.

cut the chatter. let it melt.

Ah. there it is.

it’s crystal clear, really. it’s in front of your beautiful, lovely face. crisp green and bright blue. cold wind.

it’s been there.

it’s there. breathe deep. clear. it’s so clear.

and what do i see? I see leaves, i see the glass surface, i see snow caps, pure white, i see blue mountains, i see spidery roots, i see you

it’s moments like these, when I know that it’s this. this. come into this, come.

it’s vast and it’s pure and it’s all i’ll ever need. it’s real and it’s alive and it’s there. it’s been there. simply.

night drops. dark blue and bright. the sky opens and there’s beauty. such wonder, a blanket of truth

be here.

Where You Stand

“You, from where you are, you cannot see the naked boy

The naked boy holds the camera

You are the naked boy before the camera

Or you are here and you are imagining the naked boy

This is not a dream and this is not a dream relationship

The boy wants to touch you

You are the other boy

The city is far away up in flames.

We’ve come a long way to be here

We said we wanted to get away from it all, but when we arrived in this place, it was all still here

It traveled with us

The histories, the bookmarks are part of your body

So all that you are is where you stand

Naked and getting more naked

A weight without weapons, a body of work

You stand at the edge of the rest of your life. This is what you stand for.

The boy stands with you, beside you, before you. The boy is the life you stand before and you are the boy standing at the edge

Stand by me. Stand by me.”

-Chris Goode

my mind forgets, like a sepia photograph slowly turning white

Memory: intangibly forever. It’s really all we have in this life. When time speeds up and our lives slow down, all we are left with is a shallow collection of memories—it’s all we have, it’s the only proof of a life lived that counts. While the ability to trap time and space within our minds is utterly glorious, it is undeniably frustrating.

As I grow, as I age, I find that my memories from yesteryear are riddled with gaping holes, leaving shreds of random recollections. While they may not be random, while there may be some subconscious grave importance to the memories I still keep, I cannot help feeling disappointed in the inability to remember every single solitary moment.

My memories are sliced into pieces, spliced together, and strung along a string. Like a kindergarten art project, my memories are hole-punched. Euphoric memories are salvaged, while dull and negative memories are excised. They are snipped from the stream of remembrance, and discarded so carelessly. They fade away, like a sepia photograph slowly turning white.

My mind buries the bad. My mind forgets, consciously concealing.

I find myself remembering only certain things; I tie these recollections down with double knots, and think about them for weeks, months, and years. I never fatigue from grasping onto these memories with clenched fists, constantly dissecting them, mulling them over, trying to dive deeper, searching for… something true.

I hold on tightly, perhaps TOO tightly. And while I desperately cling to certain events, others are forgotten. They are shoved out, dumped like trash in a gutter. I find myself disappointed in the limitations of my mind. It is devastating to know that those memories are gone—those first memories of light and sound as a newborn, the memories of walking and talking for the first time, memories of a childhood—they are all slipping away. WHY! I want to hold onto my humanity. I want to remember and reflect and ponder and know EACH day of my life. Each and every single day that I lived, that I was in existence. WHY should I have to forget.

I don’t want to forget this life. I don’t want to forget what it meant to live, what it meant to grow and evolve. I don’t want to forget the progression. I don’t want to forget myself.



his heart heavy, his head hangs…

A broken man sits at the bar, drink in one hand. His other hand sits clenched and white, full of fury. Darkness drops from his eyes. Wrinkles etched into his brow, etched with regret. His heart heavy, his head hangs.

His weathered eyelids close for a moment, as if hoping to escape, for only a moment

He opens his eyes. Takes a quiet sip. Puts his glass down and stares ahead. Gray eyes lost in a muddled past.

sweep away

there’s a spark

to start something new

something stirring inside

release, release

walk forward, barefoot

let the wind sweep past

open hands drop everything old

start anew. now.

I am, honestly and deeply, infatuated with the idea of you

I do this every time. I sit there, pining, imagining, concocting these wild fantasies in my head that you may, one day, just out of any ordinary day, notice me. See me. Look at me. Ponder about me. Think of me. Fantasize about me. I’d love it if you once, just once, looked at me with passion, with zeal, with ardor, with a longing.

When I see you pass me, when I see you walk by, my heart rate shoots. I literally feel my heart rate increase for a second, a minute palpitation, as if it has been shocked, as if electrodes jolted it. You have physiological effects on me. You face, it makes me melt, it makes me long. You smile, your boyish mannerisms, your gorgeous head of hair. I cant’ get enough. God damn.

But I’m not sure you see me. I sometimes catch you glimpse my way, sometimes see you looking at me from the corner of my eye. But I’m not sure you see me. I’ve longed for you, I’ve wanted you for much too long, and I want to let you go. I want to get rid of every feeling I have towards you, because they are useless. They are empty. They are meaningless, and most of all, they are too difficult to hold anymore. I am, honestly and deeply infatuated with the idea of you. I’ve created this God, this man, in my mind, this amazing and gorgeous man and I don’t think I know you, somehow I don’t think I ever will know you.

I want to let you go. I want to find a new man, a real man to fall in love with. A man who is amazing and handsome and sexy as hell, but more than anything, I want to be pursued, I want these feelings to be reciprocated. I want something new, fresh, and amazingly different than anything I’ve ever known.

But, over and over and over again, it seems that when you enter the room and when you gaze in my direction, my heart leaps, adrenaline pumps, and I fall more in love with this infatuation that I desperately want to become a reality.

tonight, tonight

Let’s be totally honest right now. RIGHT NOW I’m going to be totally honest with what I want. What I desperately want this year, in 2010, is… I mean how do I even verbalize it, how do I quantify it, how do I explain the inner tumultuous state of my mind. My mind tumbles and thunders, and spins and whirls. It flips and dives, it hopes and prays. My mind reaches, reaches, reaches, searching to grasp onto anything tangible, anything real, anything true. My mind reaches for truth. My mind.

I find myself looking at myself. In the mirror. I see that I’m now no longer that young child with bright eyes. I see life wearing on me, my physical self. I hate that this life, THIS life is wearing me down, slowly, slowly wearing me down- and for what? WHY? why should I be picked apart, and broken down, atom by atom. I shouldn’t, I won’t! I’ll resist, and I’ll struggle, and I’ll try to keep myself on point, I try to keep myself moving up, striding only up.

My mind reaches for an answer. My mind searches for what’s right, for what’s good. Actually. That’s false. My mind doesn’t reach for what’s right and what’s good, I mind reaches for what is. Oh what I’d give to know what is. What IS , right now, right here, in this very sentence, in this very line, in this very WORD, what IS. Maybe this doesn’t make any sense… I feel myself getting off track- I wanted to write about what I want, what my goals are, and who I plan to become in this year, THIS year of 2010.

I love 2010. I love saying it, I love writing it, I love the symmetry, I love it’s evenness, I love how it represents a new decade of life and time that has never graced the oceans and deserts, never touched this universe before. I love how 2010 is completely new and fresh. And in some odd way, I feel that with 2010, twenty-ten, (ahh that feels so good!) I can start afresh and anew too. Perhaps this is naive and sophomoric. After all, it’s just a number, it’s just a representation of this period in our lives, this moment. It’s just category, just a number that allows us to believe that we are somehow and someway moving forward. As if time is dragging us forward, whether we’d like it or not. Time tugs on, while we dig our boots into the mud, struggling to slow it down, desperately trying to hold on to what is familiar, to what we know.

I’d like to pick my feet up out of the mud and allow 2010 to fling me forward. Like a rag doll flung from a slingshot, whooshing past nonbelievers who can’t seem to unclench their hand from the rungs of past days, and past ways. I’d like to fling forward. Where I end up, I’m not so sure.

“Time is never time at all
You can never ever leave, without leaving a piece of youth
And our lives are forever changed
We will never be the same
The more you change the less you feel

Believe, believe in me, believe, believe!
That life can change, that you’re not stuck in vain
We’re not the same, we’re different.
Tonight, tonight, tonight
So bright
Tonight, tonight”

-Smashing Pumpkins

Dark. Black. Possibility.

Sometimes I wrap my hands across my eyes and peer into the black. I see abyss. Dark. Black. Possibility.

I see what I could be. I envision something… different.

I see a little girl, frolicking on the dusty street in her faded dress and bare feet. I see a newborn baby, with soft pink eyes shut tight, dreaming of light and sound. I see a young man dropped to the ground with his head in his palms, broken. I see a child peeking around the corner, only to catch a glimpse of golden light pouring through glass windows. I see a woman running along the tides, thunder rumbles behind as her hair whips back in the wind.

I envision something… desperate, something forgotten

And what do I want?

I think I’m more hopeful. I think this summer has been great. Some flirtations, some adventures, some great conversations. I think there’s a lot that the future holds. I think that I’m beginning to know not only who I am, but what I can do. What I can achieve. What I want.

And what do I want?

I’ve said this before. I’ll say it again. I want love, I want life, I want a pure and sincere happiness that runs deep. I want adventure and surprise, I want to be better. I want to be STRONG, confident, powerful, and able. Able to choose, able to believe, able to aspire, able to achieve, able to reach, and able to grab.

I think I’ll get there. I think I’m getting there. To that point where I can finally be the best version of me, and offer that person to a world where acceptance is abundant and ambition flows.

I think I’m getting there. And while my road has had bumps, grooves, obstacles and u-turns, I’m getting somewhere. There are two directions, there has always been two directions: up and down.

I choose up.

For a moment the earth has slowed down, the mind settles, and all that matters are deep breaths of pure, cold air.

I imagine I’m sitting at a cafe, under an awning. It’s raining. It’s night. I’m just sitting there, breathing in that clean, crisp smell. The water falls on cobblestone roads, as the yellow streetlights reflect across the pavement.

It’s a quiet rain. A heavy mist.

It seems like everything is calm, for a moment. For a moment the earth has slowed down, the mind settles, and all that matters are deep breaths of pure, cold air.

eye-OPENing

you are the only you that the world will ever see

so be amazing

there are people out there waiting for you to be amazing

finding love isn’t easy, you have to be ready for it

Some people are open to love. Some people live with open hearts and those kinds of people find each other- at the supermarket, book store, coffee shop, or what have you. Those kinds of people will love often, and grow frequently.

I’m not sure if I’m like that- for some reason, maybe life experience or maybe genetics, I’m not someone who is open and free with love. I hate that. I wish I was open, honest, and forward.

hmm… some people have it…. some people know what love is, how to attract it, how to find it… some people are in touch with that… that innate human intuition…

looking for love is lonely

I realized something today.

I want an simple life. With a few things: family, friends- lots of good and caring friends, happiness, and above all love. And I think that’s the one thing lacking here- love. And I think that a lot of people want love. It’s a human necessity really, and we feel incomplete without it. And I think I try to fix or shift the other parts of my life, trying to accomodate, trying to figure out some way to get love, find love, be in love.

I hate waiting…. it’s lonely…

dusty footprints are swept away

I think about those common people, who have been swept away with the wind. Those who have died, those who have loved, those who have lived greatly, those who were. I think about those people who used to be living, and now exist only in the wind. While they tried, desperately, to put their footprints on early terrain, while they tried to create lasting impressions, to make differences, to be remembered.. they were forgotten. And to no one’s fault… they were forgotten because that’s what happens…….and that’s what always will happen… people forget, memories fade fast, and dusty footprints are swept away by the breeze.

I wonder if that’ll happen to me. I know inevitably it will. I know that everyone I know and everyone I will ever know will fade away with me, when I’m gone. I know it will happen. It’s an eerie feeling, and a spooky thought. While I have lived, and while I am trying to do good and great things…I will fade… along with all that I know, and all that I’ve done. In some sense, one must ponder, then what’s the point. Why even try? Because in the end, everything breaks, and people forget… but I think it matters. If not to anyone else, actually… to no one else, it still matters. To you. You will remember, and you will have lived, and loved, and done grand things… you will remember… even after being swept away… I hope………. I hope I will remember

I am not alone. and I love that.

I feel BRIGHT and WARM. Inside my smile, inside my chest. I love this feeling of closeness, of connection, of relating. I feel like this, right HERE, this is reaching out.. what we do here is reaching out.. trying to grapple and grasp onto anything that we can relate to. WordPress- it allows us to attempt… attempt to find someone who we can relate to, people who we can feel with and feel close to. It’s about trying to reach out, and see how similar humanity truly is. And while we’re going through our own lives, and it may seem near impossible that there are others who are experiencing the same thing, I think this helps us see that it is near possible that there are. There are people just like me, just like you, just like them, who are having the same thoughts, same feelings, same emotions, same ideas, and while, in this ever-lonely world where human contact is dwindling, we are still reaching out- across oceans, trying to grapple and grasp someone who is the same. I love that.