Desert Places..

They cannot scare me with their empty spaces Between stars--on stars where no human race is. I have it in me so much nearer home To scare myself with my own desert places.

-R. Frost

I’ve often heard tell that this time of year can be the hardest to face even when you have many blessings to count.  It just feels like this time around it’s even more painful than I recall it being in other years.  It feels like tragedy is touching my life in ways that dig deeper than the sad brushings of pain I can sense but cannot feel as keenly as those engulfed and reeling in its wake.  It seems it began as summer passed into autumn, the days grew shorter, the wind grew chill..

I have said many times that life moves in ley lines that sometimes arrange themselves in brilliant mosaics that leave us speechless and thankful.  Sometimes, though, the ley lines carry naught but tears and the hitching of breath that never seems to be enough to truly feel alive.   As I wake to muted dark mornings and deep blue nights, gazing up at sullen grey skies and endless expanses of stars, so many around me are facing unthinkable pain.  This is for them.

For Linda, who lost a nephew in one of the most inconsolable ways imaginable…

For Karen, who lost an aunt who was also very much a friend…

For Holly, who lost a brother in arms who paid the ultimate price…

For the Biddles and others, who lost a friend whose smile brightened the world…

For FLCC and beyond, who reeled when his story came to an end…

For those who have lost elders and youth, friends and family four-legged and two…

For Ben, whose family is straining against a dark cloud of fear and heartache…

For Larry, who walked a path of uncertainty to bring his mother comfort…

For Allison, who supports a son and a husband who need all that she has to give…

For you, for your own battles and tears....

And for me…

For myself, I will hug my loved ones, appreciate my many blessings, and smile as the snowflakes fall and the bells jingle.  But I will also keenly feel the acute sense of loss and heartache that faces so many that I love.  It is the price one pays for wearing her heart on her sleeve and entwining others' lives into her own.  I would not change it, but I will seek solace in what counts as prayer in my worldview...

May each of you – each of us – find solace in warm memories, good friends, and the promise of brighter yesterdays and tomorrows both.  May we hold on to our loved ones – the ones who are here, the ones who are gone, and the ones who may leave us at any moment.  May we love them – all of them, may we never shy away.  May we never be afraid to love, to reach out, to hold on.

Hand in hand, arm in arm, shoulder to shoulder, we will all learn to smile again.  Our strength lies in one another - the rhythm of beating hearts, the light of love.

Let no one be lost, let no one be alone.

Water Warmth (Freewrite)

Yesterday, I gave my Introduction to Literature class the following prompt:  When you're having a really bad day, what do you do / where do you go?  If money, time, and travel were not an issue, where would you go and why?

Below is an unedited transcription of what I wrote in class in response to that same prompt.

***

 When I have a bad day, I really don't go anywhere or do anything - I just fold myself into my games and my home, putting on comfy pants, getting some hot cocoa -- perhaps a  hot bath.  Warmth seems to be key today -- though that may be a result of fall coming.  I get lost in writing or gaming, a tv show, or a book.  Something to take my mind off whatever it is.  I often look for affirmation -- comfort from friends.  Sometimes I want to talk it out, sometimes I want to forget it.  IT all depends on what it is.  Comfort is key -- sometimes nature is key as well.

If I could go anywhere, I think I would go somewhere with water.  Camping.  Unplug and unwind.  A beach.  I'm just now realizing my association with water as a soothing element.  I wonder if this is because I'm usually closer to fire -- candles, campfires, heat, warmth.  Perhaps water is a counter to that -- baths, rivers, waterfalls, waves.  There is an allure there.  I even find comfort in a rain day on occasion.  It makes me want to retreat into that idea of comfort and warmth.

Water.

Warmth.

Comfort.

"Earth's the right place for live:  I don't know where it's likely to go better"

Unplug, Unwind... (300)

There is something intriguing about ‘unplugging’ these days. Most people know me as a diehard geek, but when I cannot plug in, it is hardly the end of the world for me. I am clearly not an addict in that regard – I don’t pine for pixels or long for laptops. My brain seems to understand that the time has come for something altogether different. Furthermore, my appreciation of the great outdoors is only accentuated by the amount of time I spend connected to technology as a matter of course. Not that I’m suggesting for a moment that everyone has spend time plugged in to truly appreciate being unplugged. It’s just that I personally appreciate the immediacy of the campground and the wilderness even more because I don’t get to explore such environs as much as I would like. It also makes me appreciate the ease with which I can communicate in the world when I come back out of it. A somewhat more cynical world escapist once said that the mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation; while I don’t completely agree, I can say that I do yearn to leave this sometimes brutal and agonizing world for a little while. And so, my heart lies more with Frost than with Thoreau – for it was the former who said he’d “like to get away from earth awhile” and the only change I would make is to change earth to world. For it is the bosom of the Earth to which I flee, and not for long. The world where I spend the bulk of my days is full of that which I most love. It is that world which is the “right place for love” and too long away would find me pining not for pixels, but for people.

Quotes:

Walden by Henry David Thoreau and “Birches” by Robert Frost