The Subtleness of Monday...

Time… It’s what we all have, and my friend Celtic explains it best in his post.  Also Kelli with another good post today tells us just how smart Mark Twain really was.  That should start the day off well.  

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This morning inspiration hit me as I sat on my couch trying to get ready for my day.  I hadn’t slept well so I was tired.  And I realized with a start that DAMMIT it was Monday and the weekend even though I lived it, had slipped through my grasp yet again.  When trying to think about where my time went sudden phrases entered my head.  Things like this happen when I’m going to write.  So today I’ll write them out as they come.  But what was different today was not only phrases for poetry, but whole thoughts, streams of consciousness came with it.  Seems I have some ideas to examine so as they come I’ll write them too.  

The first is that:

I am the great dreamer.

We all dream.  Some of us even dream in color.  I realized this morning in a spurt of awareness that woke me better than caffeine could, that I am the great dreamer with a palette of stars and spectacular colors of cosmic dust with which to paint… However, I have no brush to paint the dreams with.  In other words, I dream but have no motivation or desire to spread my colors on the canvas of my own life, or to share them.  

I do not know what it is that makes it this way.  Then I started thinking back to when I was 21 or so.  If I had been single back then and living on my own my freedom would have caught me fresh on the edge of growing up.  Back then I didn’t mind going out had no idea what a computer was other than for college papers, and had aspirations for things I can’t even see now. I would never be seen without taking the time to make myself presentable, and I was the life of ANY party.  Back then when I dreamed the whole world dreamed with me, people shared my passion as it was infectious and I ran out of canvas’s I painted my dreams so much.  

Instead my independence and single-ness found me on the tail end of my youth (I know I’m not old) standing at the edge of an abyss where the big lie had just been uncovered… the lie made to my heart.  This brings me to my second realization.  

I’m still depressed because I have no love in my life.  

I never knew I was such a person of the heart.  Even to this day I’m amazed at how much, just HOW MUCH I live in the heart.  I’m not a woman of worldly knowledge.  Even back in my 20’s when I thought I knew a lot I still wasn’t knowledgeable on things.  But I DID know the heart.  I knew how much it meant to be with it, I just had never had it lied to as I have now.  

A good friend of mine once told me it took him three years to get over his divorce.  The similarities in his marriage, divorce, and change in life afterwards are uncanny; they’re so close to mine.  I got divorced in 2003, if the numbers are right, then maybe this year I’ll begin to live again.  Until then I ride the raft I’ve made, on unstable seas.  Sometimes sailing as smooth as glass with the stars for light and guidance, and other times rocky and choppy so much so that I fear I won’t live.  I’ve got no compass, and I, dear readers of my drudgery cannot predict the weather.  

And to be completely and utterly corny I’ll give you the lyrics of a song that I sang in high school.  It seems so appropriate sometimes lately.  This in and of itself is frightening because back then it was ok to not have it figured out.  Now, while I may not have it “figured out” I should have an idea of the course I should be on… and I have as little clue now as I did back then.

Whitesnake
I don't know where I'm going
But, I sure know where I've been
Hanging on the promises
In songs of yesterday
An' I've made up my mind,
I ain't wasting no more time
But, here I go again
Here I go again

Tho' I keep searching for an answer,
I never seem to find what I'm looking for
Oh Lord, I pray
You give me strength to carry on,
'Cos I know what it means
To walk along the lonely street of dreams

An' here I go again on my own
Goin' down the only road I've ever known,
Like a hobo I was born to walk alone
An' I've made up my mind
I ain't wasting no more time

I'm just another heart in need of rescue,
Waiting on love's sweet charity
An' I'm gonna hold on
For the rest of my days,
'Cos I know what it means
To walk along the lonely street of dreams

Which brings me to my last thing.  My first attempt at a poem (published anyway ;) based on the inspiration and images I received this morning.

(Deleted because it sucked)

*sigh* Maybe later I’ll try again.

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WELL WISHES
Today for all those I come into contact with (Yes, even the hens and crony) may the light of inspiration give you a moment’s pause.  May it be just enough to make you smile and light up your day.

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AND REMEMBER:
(Two for you all today)

Water is fluid, soft, and yielding. But water will wear away rock, which is rigid and cannot yield. As a rule, whatever is fluid, soft, and yielding will overcome whatever is rigid and hard. This is another paradox: what is soft is strong.
~ Lao Tzu.

There are two kinds of light:
the glow that illumines,
and the glare that obscures.
~ James Thurber.