A simple note... Post 320

It has been a crazy past 24 hours, and my head still seems to be spinning. Trying the art of staying still and letting the feelings come to me rather than chasing and giving them a direction.

Yes, it's been a tough day and was made easier with the support of several who reached out to me today. I guess I don't have much to say but wanted to consciously put out some energy in the universe to be thankful for having some with me to carry me through a dark day like today which shackled me.

So here is putting a prayer out there to the universe, to help us all find peace, and all find people who aren't scared of our emotions, of our feelings to stay with us especially in days like this, when it seems hard to go on, to give us hope and strength, or to just stay still with us and wait with us while the merry-go-round of life settles down. A prayer that we still find comforts in prayers, that in our own small, flawed ways, the energies we put out there do have an impact in this tapestry of life.

Good night… meet you in the new light of a new day.

Invisible Emotions Post 319

Yesterday I was surrounded by gigantic structures named  ice castles (one of these are in the picture above). And they seemed unreal, the way the sunlight hit them and danced, lighting it up like a playground set in the heavens. And as I looked at these cold beautiful pieces of art, my mind immediately started drawing parallels to some emotion I have felt… and that motion itself, stopped me in my tracks of thinking.

Why is it I use the mountains, the rain, the skies, the ocean to describe what I feel? Why is it that these motionless structures of ice somehow reach into the depth of my soul? And the answer came quite quickly… it is because our emotions are in a lot of ways invisible.

How do I share the magnitude of my anger or sadness, how do I express that - but if I describe an untamed ocean clashing against the rocks, eagerly beating hard as it has no other reprise - then perhaps we can imagine the distress and power of this emotion? How do I express the belief that rises in me sometimes when all seems lost and dark, but to share a picture of a gloomy sky and a ray of light making it through and reflecting on an icicle? The simple beauty of hope, canvased in a sky…

We struggle so much to describe what it is we feel… how do we express love, concern.. how do we apologize with the right words, how do we mend that which is broken? But to perhaps share ourselves with the mountains, echo our helplessness in their large halls. Sometimes sitting on the top of a mountain, standing at the edge of an ocean, it just is a reminder of the expanse of this universe. And why not give all around us life and a soul? Why not share all that is within us, with what is around us? Can we not feed our energies into the soil, can we not move the mountains, and make it rain… can we not dance and cry in these torrents and be part, whole and one with everything around us?

How else do we show what we feel - when our words are put on the witness stand, our thoughts are misunderstood… our joys too, aren't felt the way we want them to. But perhaps, nature and our arts, creations, our dances… even playing with words and trying to form these sentences, these are all just attempts to give a body, give a place… a life to that which beats so strongly within us. To not let  this energy good or bad fade away. For though it is invisible, it isn't without substance or sustenance. It has the power to break us down, bring us up, make us move with motivation, halt us in our days, keep us quiet, move us to tears. And I guess, that is why I look for constant echoes of what I feel around me… for if not another man, then perhaps another being, in the shape of a soft rock in my hands, the grass at my feet, the quiet mountain silhouette will know what it is that I feel… and let me borrow it as my muse to share with all else.

Quiet Post 318

I have been an action person as far as I can remember. Things get better if we work at them, if we make attempts, we invest energy into things - they are bound to move. Recently I have been trying something else with things - the act of staying still. The act of patience.. maybe we have set enough things in motion and now is the time to let them settle down. Let them find their footing and then grow into something even bigger and better...

Maybe.

But the act of waiting is a difficult one. You stay still when you are accused, when your demons are always shoved in your face, when friends become strangers, when wounds keep getting scraped, when getting older, when getting tested... you believe in a place that isn't there yet... but maybe in a point in this long life we will reach there. The birth of hope.

Today I spent some time alone and tried to be quiet, and move with this quiet. And yes there was a torrent of emotion, why's and hows and what ifs, the fear of uncertainty, the fear of never feeling again something that brought us comfort. The feeling of being lost, of being taken away too far. Of never being understood, the doubts... and then I tried harder to be quiet and listen. And I heard my breathing, saw myself with my own eyes, and I let it go... and while the thoughts were quiet, my body was tired and I could feel its joys and disappointments, hurts and stories without the use of even a single word. And the strange thing was when I was quiet, it wasn't worse, it didn't feel empty... just different. Just different.

We fuel our thoughts with our feelings...and sometimes we need those thoughts to be quiet to really feel what is in us.  

Thought I will end this blog with a simple poem I wrote.

Will you look at my eyes again 

The way you used to

And find them beautiful 

As you try to capture

Their strands sparkling in the sun

Would you hold my hand again

And dance with me in a moment

Be childish and smile in unison

Even when there was nothing to smile of

Will we bask in our innocence

See the truth in my tired soul again

Will you look my way and say my name

Is my moving away, really moving on

Is staying away really being apart?

Is it so hard, will it change anything

The moment that seems to never come

When you look at my eyes again

And speak as a soul that knows mine

That smiles and whispers, the words "hello"

All the while softly saying..  

"I am here, with you, again."

- RKS

Waves of Memory Post 317

Having a strange wave of nostalgia today. Maybe it's from a feeling of vulnerability or maybe it's just where my mind has decided to go.

Remembering my home where I grew up. Remembering my room, which was before that shared with my sister and before that was not even mine - it belonged to my elder sisters. The making of art projects in that room as a child all the way to the day I packed up my things when leaving for good. The kitchen with its black floors always a strange contrast to the rest of the house... the mismatched couches which always felt comfortable, the fireplace always the warmest part of the house. The dining table with the overflowing newspapers and magazines, envelopes, papers...the quiet nook in the corridor where my dog slept on his first night.

An old shipping container box, filled with old toys. Another made into a tree house, which somehow never made it to any trees. A small bathroom with a functional space, a study room filled with books, a library of sorts, with a closet under lock and key, always such a mystery when opened. It's almost like seeing this house, house number 77, like a photograph. I can navigate through each nook and cranny...the cracked tile on this floor, the scratching on this window, the broken pane, the newly painted roof and walls that were done...

And then the sounds and life that fill the empty walls...they come in as color does on a canvas. From a child waiting for her bedtime story every night, to baking her first cake, to tears and joy, and quiet and flooded, growing and learning... memories which are in everyone's past and they are so much more treasured when we look back now.

Every now and then like today...the concept of home seems a little abstract. Is it a place you know in and out, is it the people who make you feel like you belong? Then is that why when we are left alone, when we feel vulnerable and forgotten.. that we feel our foundation shakes. Is that why we when we leave that nest that we've known for so long, are always insecure in our searches? I don't know. Sometimes I think our memories become more precious when we've times like now -when the mind is quiet and still and the heart tries to pacify it with comforts of a childhood, innocent time. Tries to remind us that we're still the same person, we just have colors and moods... but we never lose the good essence in us. And hurts and scars don't change the innocence in us... for others will look at us with scrutiny, but what hurts is when we ourselves look at our reflections that way. Maybe nostalgia is a way to remind ourselves that we too do have a duty to a soul that we need to love and forgive, protect and nurture.

Not Knowing Post 316

We look at an ocean and believe we can estimate its expanse.
We stand before a gigantic body of water and use words to describe its depth.
A depth we've not experienced, that we've heard of and imagined. And only when thrust into the waters and lost at sea, when desperate for survival do we realize how small our being is in comparison.

And yet we do it all the time.

We imagine we know better. Our thoughts and perceptions must be correct. For we are able to process and understand, we must know.

We can look at the sky and see its colors, we can feel like we understand what an animal feels, a story, a sentiment must mean. We do  not take into account our own translation, our limited knowledge because until proven wrong, we don't even think twice.

We look a person in the eye and determine what they feel. What they think, and all their words and actions are molded to match that, for we know. We are able to figure out what is in someone elses heart when we are still able to be surprised by our own reactions.

We decide when someone is wrong and guilty. We judge, we reject, we react, we move away from what we think we know. But we don't know. We don't know what it is we walk away from, what we leave, the story is never complete when recollected... the love, the emotion never dies when one person ends it. The ocean doesn't shrink or grow by our grasp of it. The hurt doesn't reduce or increase by our belief of disengagement. Writing words here, pouring from a heart that no one can know, a feeling no one can understand.

We don't know. And that is the only thing I know for sure.

Cold Post 315

And the waters cry out into the smoke
Like the words we never spoke
Or ones you refused to hear
The stories we weren't able to end
The scars we weren't able to mend

The ocean lays still trapped in ice
Like a heart beat frozen in time
The restless nature of the beast
The deafening silence of solitude
The pain and glory of being alone

Against our will, against our instinct
We dive in deeper into the cold
And find the warmth of anger
The fuel of rejection... the salvation
The chains, the restrain, the angst

But the waters meld into the smoke
The waves crack the ice
For nature will not stop
The winds will not slow
Time will not bow
And my tears won't melt
The walls around your heart.

- RKS

Waiting With Walls Post 314

The walls that wait with me are quiet

But they lean in to listen

They sigh at the sound of my tears

They move with my emotion

They know I am their loyal companion

We have waited together before.

There is a space ahead of this

Where I will walk and they can't follow

They stay where I leave them 

And remain when I return

When surrounded by them

They echo my silence 

And cringe at my screams

They can't reach out nor comfort

Nor hold or promise

They shift weight sometimes and seem 

Like angels engraved in them whispering

That this too will pass and I will use

Them to move and dance

And smile and enchant

And yet when I look up to hear again

The stillness that greets me tears me anew

But for now they are quiet

As they cradle my tired being

In their cold arms..

They know my story

They feel my loneliness

They are my friends 

Though we cannot speak

I relay to others what we share

Though we cannot touch

I run to them when I break

Though we cannot see

I feel their presence 

Peering into my soul

Keeping me company

While I wait… 

While I wait with these walls alone.

- RKS

Happy Birthday Day 313

Wishes of a warm sunrise that color your day
A cool breeze to guide your way…
A loving hand when you cry
An encouraging whisper whenever you try
A hope, a thought, a simple wish is this
That when you need a friend a friend it is
That finds you and holds you close
Gives you faith and all that you could want
Helps you move forward when you can't
Wishes of a wondrous view whenever you look up
A silhouette of angels guiding your path
Gentle lessons, kind eyes and forgiving hearts
A hope, a thought a simple way to say
To my friend a happy birthday.

- RKS