A Blessing

Writing is a blessing.

This blog is a blessing. It’s a channel to the world, to all of you, and I couldn’t be more grateful:

For the voice;

For the opportunity;

For the feedback;

For the community.

1,000 posts earlier this week. Fitting it would be with the title “Why Worry.”

Writing is a primary tool for coping, at least for me. Has been for a long time. Writing creates hope. It turns coping into insight, and even a little light for others sometimes.

Grateful for this blog as a way to share that coping and hope and light with the world.

What a blessing.

Lyrics Post: “Running To Stand Still”

I’ve been feeling this way a lot lately. Thought I would share.

“Running To Stand Still”

“And so she woke up

Woke up from where she was

Lying still

Said I gotta do something

About where we’re going

Step on a steam train

Step out of the driving rain, maybe

Run from the darkness in the night

Singing ha, ah la la la de day

Ah la la la de day

Ah la la de day

Sweet the sin

Bitter taste in my mouth

I see seven towers

But I only see one way out

You got to cry without weeping

Talk without speaking

Scream without raising your voice

You know I took the poison

From the poison stream

Then I floated out of here

Singing…ha la la la de day

Ha la la la de day

Ha la la de day

She runs through the streets

With her eyes painted red

Under black belly of cloud in the rain

In through a doorway she brings me

White gold and pearls stolen from the sea

She is raging

She is raging

And the storm blows up in her eyes

She will…”

By the boys of U2

Why Worry

Why worry? Don’t give it much time, the worry itself. Those things on your mind? The worry tells you they matter to you, it’s a sign.

Beyond that though, don’t give it much time. Worry likes to hang out, as much time as you’ll give it.

But don’t give it that time. Don’t stay in the worry. For worry’s sake, and your own, take note, be grateful, and then move to the action, the doing.

It’s the doing that worry needs; don’t let it be an end, let it be a sign to spur you along.

Why worry? It’s time to move. It’s time to do. Thanks for reminder. Let’s go~

The Pace

The pace, the race, what does it all mean? What’s the intent, the destination, when does it end?

Put ourselves into these conditions, circumstances, situations, often chosen, sometimes not.

The very reason, purpose, to move forward, go forward, live, be, do. We only get one go, make the most, mostly in, ready. But times not, and then what? The angst, the pit, it uncertainty, certainly difficult at times.

The pace sometimes a bit too quick, unexpected; or maybe it’s the anticipated, what’s expected, that’s the cause. Don’t fear the pace, it has its place.

And so, Live, Be, Do, how about you? Why are you in, here? It’s the very purpose, intent, be intentional, much we can do, so let’s do.

Ease In

Wake of time away, list growing in your mind. Why the angst? Why the worry?

Most are known, and what is not, you can handle. Step by step, usual processes, others ready to lend a hand. Not alone.

The very Soul Time that concludes, filled with love, let it fortify, strengthen, not diminished, instead assured.

Be assured, your pace, your path, enough. Ease in, forward, know it’s enough, know, ease in.

Lyrics Post: “Better Way”

The first time I heard this song I was inspired. The words encourage, fortify. The music builds, layered, energized. Let it fill you, spur you on.

BETTER WAY

“I’m a living sunset

Lightning in my bones

Push me to the edge

But my will is stone

Fools will be fools

And wise will be wise

But i will look this world

Straight in the eyes

What good is a man

Who won’t take a stand

What good is a cynic

With no better plan

Reality is sharp

It cuts at me like a knife

Everyone i know

Is in the fight of their life

Take your face out of your hands

And clear your eyes

You have a right to your dreams

And don’t be denied

I believe in a better way”

Written by Ben Harper

Special Post: Hamlet’s Soliloquy, Act I, Scene ii

Written some 500 years ago, learned personally in an English Lit class some 40 years ago.

This from none other than William Shakespeare. As profiled in Wikipedia, “An English playwright, poet, and actor, widely regarded as the greatest writer in the English language and the world’s greatest dramatist. He is often called England’s national poet and the “Bard of Avon.”

And so this stream of conscious spoken aloud early in the play, how tortured our man Hamlet is, setting the stage for what’s to come. The dude was decidedly NOT happy.

“O, that this too too solid flesh would melt Thaw and resolve itself into a dew!

Or that the Everlasting had not fix’d

His canon* ‘gainst self-slaughter! O God! God! How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable,

Seem to me all the uses of this world!

Fie on’t! ah fie! ’tis an unweeded garden,

That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature Possess it merely. That it should come to this!

But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two:

So excellent a king; that was, to this,

Hyperion* to a satyr; so loving to my mother

That he might not beteem* the winds of heaven

Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth!

Must I remember? why, she would hang on him,

As if increase of appetite had grown

By what it fed on: and yet, within a month–

Let me not think on’t–Frailty, thy name is woman!– A little month, or ere* those shoes were old

With which she follow’d my poor father’s body,

Like Niobe (1), all tears:–why she, even she–

O, God! a beast, that wants* discourse of reason, Would have mourn’d longer–married with my uncle, My father’s brother, but no more like my father

Than I to Hercules (2): within a month:

Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears

Had left the flushing in her galled* eyes,

She married. O, most wicked speed, to post

With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!

It is not nor it cannot come to good:

But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue.”

1 A mythological figure who when her children were killed.

2A mythological hero of great strength.

130 *law

135

139 *the sun god

*allow

145 *before

*lacks

151

*inflamed 156

Special Thanks to Cecil Criger for the intro all those years ago.