Tonight as I mix and mingle with a few new friends, Rum Chata and UV Cake, we are discussing, in earnest gossip, the re-appearance of Miss Hopeless Romantic who once ruled over the seven moons of my youth. When I first saw her last year, I thought it a trick, or some sort of mirage as I truly believed that when she sailed across the sea so many years ago, she would never return. Alas, she seems to have come home.

I also thought that if she ever came home, we would not recognize each other – we would no longer see eye to eye because the world has a way of changing us. If she still danced in the rain, and had a passion for the darkness and the notion of being whisked away, then I might not be able to tolerate that because I’ve become jaded with reality. The monotony of every day requiring me to stay in from the rain, and forgo the darkness completely for sleep would cause me to harbor feelings of resentment and jealousy toward her. I had my doubts about our reunion, but to my great joy, they were all for naught.

I reminisce about our little reunion with Cake and Chata…

We sat on the couch together, catching up like long lost friends often do, and I was amazed at the places she had gone and things she had seen, but also found it refreshing that we still had so much in common. We both still love to light fires and dance, and we both still love to be in nature and marvel at its beauty and also its powers of destruction. Her hair had grown longer and she lets it fall in natural waves around her shoulders and I was perplexed by the fact that she does not look like she has aged a day since we last spoke. I think there must be some special magic that comes from faithfully believing in fairy tales and happy endings. A powerful concoction that not only stops time, but also steels the heart and soul against the many storms of life. I had asked her to share her secret, but she just smiled and winked at me.

We talked about the state of the world today, and my place in it. We dwelled on her favorite subjects and I filled her in on recent events with regard to love and happiness. As I revealed all the details, she seems to understand with acute clarity what I was saying, not only by my words, but also by the look in my eye.

I told her that I can see the spoils of battle,
and that they are so beautiful and sweet.
It’s a life that is extraordinary, and full
and a happiness that is complete.

She smiled at me again, tilted her head to the side, and said in a soft quiet voice, “I do believe you have discovered the elixir that you seek, now don’t hesitate to enjoy it.”. We both laughed, just like old times. I knew there was a reason I always liked her so much.

… Well, we seem to be wrapping things up now. I think these new friends (and old) are pretty awesome – I just hope UV Blue and Cran don’t get too jealous.

In peace and harmony, hail and rain,
~Shyspark

Hearts are weak, soft, and are hurt easy.
They bleed, and then cease to exist.
The soul is liquid forever
Moving at its own pace through existence
Mingling with others, and then splitting apart
Tirelessly spilling into new territory
Fearlessly cutting the terrain beneath it into cracks,
Caverns,
And yes, even canyons.
The fluidity of it is perfection.
And there’s no need to lead the way, it knows.
So denying it what it demands is folly.

My heart feels and seeks after inspiration,
But words are the implements of my souls grand design…

I stop, I waiver, I falter, I fail
I begin again, but I get no where.
I keep on trying to open my heart
I move forward, turn around, and return to the start.

I’m looking for something to tell me which way
A compass, an arrow, a sign from this day.
It’s one thing to know thunder always follows a spark
Another to trust instinct when there’s nothing but dark.

I think, I stand, I sit, I stare
I’m feeling quite foolish for going no-where.
My frustration grows, my inner spark wanes
The uncertainty here causes such worrisome pains.

Then off in the distance my eyes spy a light
It’s tiny, but growing, giving color to night.
It must be the sign that I’ve waited for
A pathway, a choice, a window, a door.

I am content now to wait here a bit longer
To see if the signal is real and gets stronger.
I’ll be bothered no more for beginning again
If all the stopping and starting was a means to an end.

Now from within me, different thoughts start to grow
I smile, I sing, I dance, and I glow.
Somehow I know that being open was never in vain
And that I have nothing to lose, and so much to gain.

The almond amaretto cherry pie is long gone,
The farmers market is no more.
We’ve settled in for winter and the waiting,
For waiting is what winter is for.

Waiting for the longer days to come
And sprouts of color through the gray.
Here and now we cling to all that’s warm,
And hang on until each new day.

The fire we started cracks and burns.
We silently watch endless embers fly up.
Then reminisce over summer time
And sip some concoction from our cup.

We talk about all the things we’ll do
And conspire to make this year great.
We dream of almond amaretto cherry pie,
While all the winter we wait.

I sip from this beautiful moment. The taste in my mouth is something on the verge of brilliance. Its very essence seems to be hanging between the scales that delicately balance reality and fiction. I lick my lips to savor the flavor as I am certain that any second the scales will tip in favor of reality and I will be forever denied another sip. In this moment I fervently try to uncover the mystical ingredients of what I have tasted, so as to hang a hat of hope on the notion that I could somehow reproduce it at some future juncture.

A dash of excitement, a spoonful of fearlessness. Possibly some measure of anticipation for things not known yet? Perhaps. I close my eyes to heighten my sense of taste in an attempt to fine tune the exact portions of each feeling. Seconds give way to minutes and hours and, yes, even days and I am amazed at how long it lingers after the moment is past.

And then I have an epiphany, like the most divine aftertaste that has ever danced on the palate. It’s the possibility that the scales could tip in favor of reality, and that reality itself is the key to a bottomless cup of these simply delicious moments. It is a truly fantastic idea that the hopeless romantic in me just can not help but believe…

The day was amazing.
And the sunset highlights it with some mysterious perfection.
Soon night is upon us and everything is covered in darkness
A blanket of silence and comfort and warmth.
I ponder over bits and pieces of the past
Committing them to memory as I drift in and out of sleep.

The night is amazing.
And the sunrise is fierce and flawless
Waking up is so sweet, like nectar from some magical flower.
I want to savor it and make it linger, long into the day.
The possibilities seem like an endless weave of deliciousness
Because in this time and space, life can be whatever we want.

***

I’ve listened to the song “Good Life” by One Republic about a gazillion times. It’s actually the song that the alarm on my phone is set to play each morning. It’s a great song, but even more than that – it has a great message. Well, as lyrics and poetry go, it is subject to interpretation, but for me, this song is all about the possibilities in life. In essence, that life just happens and we can make it whatever we want.

One day we might find ourselves in a strange place, without understanding how we got there. Another time we might find ourselves in a situation that seems rotten that we can’t really escape from, but no matter what happens, we just have to live it, and make the best of it.

Life can be beautiful and amazing. Each day is a gift, to be cherished, but also to be used. Each new day is an opportunity to do more of what you want, to make life what you want it to be. If your goal is to travel the world, make a plan and go for it. If you just want to catch up on all the episodes of “House” you missed last season, then Netflix is waiting for you. If you want to help people, go find a cause you believe in and be a part of it.

Wherever it is you want to go, whoever you want to be, and no matter what it is you want to do with your life – Today is a good day to start…

Thinkers are afflicted by what I am going to call The Thinker’s Curse. Yes, I am well aware that everyone thinks (though some appear not to), but not everyone is a “thinker”. Thinkers are the people who spend hours contemplating doing something that takes 10 minutes and might examine a two sided issue from 10 different angles.

The thinker’s brain is working all the time to puzzle things out. It travels to the future and the past and then meets itself back in the present day to try and work out what the best course of action is. It walks into the room of the mind, orders a cocktail of questions, and mingles with the emotions that show up as the drink goes down. The logic used to figure something out might be solid, but the feelings sometimes cause a decision to be second-guessed. This isn’t right or wrong, it just is. There are some cases, where the back and forth and up and down of all the thinking goes on for way too long. Thinking about the action becomes the only action and then things just stop moving forward.

This “paralysis by over-analysis”, if you will, can be somewhat of a curse. The uncertainty that the outcome will be the best it can, might keep one from pulling the trigger on some decision. Alternately, the brain might travel to the past and then just dwell there for way too long (or to the future – otherwise known as day-dreaming). When this happens it has the same affect, nothing happens in the here and now and that can become a problem.

I have not yet figured out what the best way would be to counter-balance the potential issues caused by too much thinking. I have given it some thought, but I should probably think about it some more before I come to any conclusions…

We remember what we want to
We bend the details to fit some selfish need
Each dialogue played over in the mind
Is somewhat tainted by our greed

Good things get better as they age
Bad things fester and start to grow
History, in the minds eye,
Is limited to what we think we know

These twisted revisions conjured and creeping
Play into decisions we make today
Let us temper what we remember of the past
And not let it get in our way…

We dance around the idea of perfection.
We feel our way in the dark for a switch
Some binary thing that is either on or off
Because it makes sense to us.

Things are always easier if you can define them
Organize,
Categorize,
Compartmentalize.
Here’s a label for this drawer,
A color for your personality,
A file system for your life of chaos.

We try to make things fit because we long for it.
We want the world to make sense
And to know the purpose of it.

We dance around ideals because we can not reach them.
Because no color is ever just blue,
And the junk drawer exists for a reason,
And all file systems are flawed.

So if you ask me to define what this is
I will tell you “It’s complicated”,
And then I might just suggest that we dance.

Past is past and what’s gone is gone
Tomorrow’s the future and never to come.
Each thing has its place
In moments of time and seconds of space,
And the paths of the past
And the future alike
Go on and on forever
Never coming together.
Except in the here and the now
This is the time where dreams become reality
And then turn into memories somehow.
Only in the present are they intertwined
Where living pieces of peoples lives
Are built and combined.
But special moments come quickly and fade fast
What happens in this time is not meant to last
So treasure each moment as a gift that’s been given
Because here and now is the time that we live in.