Mondays are for the creative word-mottled minds of the world. A day dedicated to the expression of whatever you have reeling around in your brain. Please read the “About” section for more details on how you can participate in Mottled Monday creative writing sessions.
I will start us off with a short prose or a poem to get the ball rolling. You can respond to what I have write or write something completely different and unrelated!
The first Mottled Monday month of each month is public for followers to read.
Mottled Monday Writing Session:
Some may say these are but ranting words on a lonely blank page used to fill up empty spaces with what will not come so easily through spoken words, nor show so quick on my face. Words do not always come out right when they slither forth from between my teeth, drawn from the tiny walled in space between my heart and my soul where they take shelter from the storms of life. Perhaps my fingers can do my tongue some justice and help my heart to heal in the places where the walls are cracked, burned, and bruised. I oft lay awake at night thinking about what words I can write that pass for knowledge and dance in the mind’s eyes as wisdom.
Useless reeling thoughts take hold of me and I am saddened by the fact that I know nothing more than what I have already seen and done. These things such as wisdom and understanding are stacked in high neat rows but the depth of such refuse to be known. Perhaps that is what it is to be human, though, because I do not have future-seeing eyes nor am I able to retain all that is within and outside this world. My soul, however, knows. It knows what it cannot see, and it yearns for what it cannot yet reach.
So humbly I wait. There is always the waiting while in constant striving to reach beyond the figments of self-imposed limitations.
Once all the waiting has been done, all the songs have been sung and all the pretty bells have rung I would like the chance to step beyond those confines of heart and mind to taste of my inner most desires, the wisdom gained and the knowledge learned. I have been given so much already in this life, and so much of it I have squandered away on my own flesh and my own thoughts and my own emotions. I have only myself to blame for what little wisdom and knowledge of my childhood that has become buried so deep under tepid decision making and hesitant footsteps. I know it is there, I know where I put it even if I can no longer see it. It is just out of reach, crouched and ready to consume at a moment’s notice; ready to tear down these vain wishes of tomorrow and failed dreams of the yesteryear. I want to reach out and touch the insides of my own mind, renew all that is dimmed, dug up with is buried, and fulfill the desires of my heart, so to turn these empty words on a lonely blank page into answered prayers, sunlit smiles, and twinkles in the eyes framed by the laugh lines on my face.
When I was young
I never really understood
how the sun could shine
when it rained
In the years of my youth
I wondered how golden rays
could slip past grey clouds
and how the pouring rain
could not keep the sun at bay
now that I'm much older
I realize grey clouds
and times of darkness
do little to hinder a life
yearning for the sun to shine
and finding a Son of the divine
now that I'm more aware
often time my life is rain
and my path canopied in clouds
but I know daylight always shines
no matter the descending veil of darkness
for He is the sun who's never truly gone
now that I'm wiser
I realize that everything dies
and when clouds rush in
the Son will be my hope
just as He has always been
now that I'm old
so near to the shining Son
where darkness and grey clouds
do not dare to send the rain
to touch a wayward soul warmed
by a life beckoned into eternity
now that I'm dead
he gathers up my soul
from under the clouds and rain
paints it in vibrant colors
borrowed from the evening sky
to meet me in my sleeping
and greet me in my ...
Yesterday was an excellent evening for a riding lesson. Here's a short and sweet lope on Fancy, the best little mare there is! It's not the length of the lope that matters as much as how I apply what I have learned this past year and a half to achieve the desired results. In other words, it's quality over quantity!
When I first began loping the transition between trot and lope stirred up this odd sharp fear at the back of my mind that made me clinch up and tighten muscles and raise my heels...all of which hindered sitting correctly in the saddle. I don't know why there was fear about loping because I love going fast but it took me about half a year to overcome it. That strange few seconds of fear grew incrementally smaller with each lesson. Once I overcame it, or rather took control of that fear, everything began to fall into place. The lesson in this, I think, is that the fear is real but it can also be what we make of it. And there are times we have to ignore the fear and just do the ...
We are immeasurable in the face of trial and adversity. This, we must strive toward even when the vast and complex realities of life leave me with little breath in which to satiate the capacities of this tiny and fragile frames that I have been given. Though my body may be small and limited, my soul, my spirit is unbound and strong. It cannot be contained so long in such a contriving state without striving to seek out the provision of freedom: to roam, to explore! Though my mind and the minds of my fellow humans cannot comprehend all the great reaches of both heaven and earth, we are more than mere trivial existences living in a world made of temporary riches and prolonged fears. Someday we will become more than we ever could have imagined. More than anything we could have expected. Until comes that day, we must brim with the joys and hopes of a more commodious world for we are giants living in a land made for imps.
I leave a piece of me with every trip I take, and I take with me a piece of every place that I leave. - Me :)
There I was on Dog Beach in Ocean Beach, CA. I though staying at a pet-friendly hotel at Dog Beach where everyone had a dog would be fun. That maybe I'd get to pet a pup. But I didn't, and while it was fun to see everyone playing with their dogs on the beach, it was also a stark reminder that I didn't have one.
I'll admit traveling without a dog has been easier, but its just not as much fun. It's been three years, and while that space Darby filled in my days as we traveled together has lessened, its still prevalent. There have been moments on this trip where I just sit and wonder what to do next because those were the moments that were filled with eager puppy-dog eyes, floppy ears, a wagging stubby tail, and toe-nails digging into carpet or clicking in the floor.
I'll have another co-pilot someday. Until that day, though, I'll brim with the hopes and joys that come with ponderous ...
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