Archive for October, 2016

Hope floats, right?


Or is it that we float on hope? Do we need to search for it? Call it? Or does it just know where we are? Does hope simply show up at the door…ring the bell? Grab our hands and take us for a spin?


I don’t think hope is as lighthearted as that.


I do think it finds us. Yes. But it finds us because it’s looking very hard. Looking for the ones who will take it seriously. That won’t waste what it has to offer. That will use its power for good. Hop on its back and have faith that they’ll be in the right place when next their feet touch the soil.


I think hope is still.


And heavy. A good heavy. An anchor. And that once we manage to grab hold, it weights us. Makes us stable. Gives refuge to wait out the storm. And lets its optimism shower down from a star-studded sky.


I think hope is like an Orchid.


It’s looking for the people who are willing to turn the crap life has handed them into mulch. Cultivate its roots. And still…still have hope that hope will believe in them. People who trust that if it’s well looked after. Nurtured. Respected. And truly happy.

That they’ll be blessed with living alongside its bloom more often than once a year.


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It’s raining tonight.


And I don’t mind.


In fact, normally, I find beautiful things in the rain. The way the shrubs and trees and grass burst with luscious life. They way they pop with extra vibrancy against their bleak grey backdrop.


The fresh smell of things revived.


The moist in the air that feels like it’s good for my skin. The jewelish patterns it leaves on the windowpanes. The sound of it panging the roof.


And hey, I’m always wanting a valid reason for a roaring fire.


But tonight, I feel sad listening to the pitter of raindrops smacking on the outside shell of my world. For whatever reason, this night is not one of those nights that I’m willing to search for brightness amongst the streaky, cellophaned streets or the drippy ink sky.


No. Tonight, I just want to be sad.


And that’s alright. Because sadness is poetic. We are lucky to live the sad moments. And rarely do we stay sad forever, right?


Sad is not the enemy.


Because being completely sad is, after all, the very thing that allows us to know when we are completely happy.


And we know this, because our hearts tell us. And so does the wise Louis CK…


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I was told the other day, that this blog. My blog. Helps people. That it’s inspirational. And that it stirs people to do the things they want to do. To change their paths. To go and be whatever it is they might want to be.


And I have to say I’ve never really thought of this blog. My blog. That way.


So, I’ve been sitting here trying to figure out what it is that that person saw as inspiring. What about my waterfall of thoughts would engage people in a positive way? What would motivate change in them? Make them think they could follow their dreams?


After all, it’s just me. Perched on my chair. Hitting the keys and letting it all fall out. And not all of it is pleasant. Or happy. Or spirit-lifting. So it can be difficult to see the light through the dark sometimes and it’s nice when someone else cares enough to flip the switch on for me.


At times I’m aware of an audience and other times, the likes or comments come as a jarring reminder that I am, in fact, allowing other people into my chaotic, disheveled mind.


Even more surprising for me, was that this comment came on the heels of my last post which was one of my darkest to date. A post that caused me pause. It was one of those times I did remember my audience and hovered over that pulsing publish button a while before pressing it.


I thought it might be too much. Too overwhelming. I worried it wasn’t “Hazy” enough. That I’d gone outside my brand. (No sniggering over the fact that it’s impossible to go outside a brand that only promises mere moments of clarity!)


So I read it back. And then I read several other posts. Just to compare. And then a few more. And I started to see something. The Darkest Side is not all that different from my standard scribblings. I mean, yes, it’s maybe a little sadder. Gloomier.


But, it’s real.


And that, I believe, is what’s inspiring.


Without sugarcoating, I always talk myself into believing there’s a little bright side to everything. And whether I need to gauge my readers or forget they’re there in order to write whatever it is I want to get out, I stay real.


Every time.


And we’ll keep this part our little secret. That this blog is also about me doing what I want to do. Changing my path. Being whatever it is I long for…think about…and am becoming.


And, I dunno. Maybe people like that too.








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