Connections of life finds me realizing I have to find a vision to express my life. I’ve been told that I treat my life as if I am going to live forever. Gifted with the natural ability to live in the moment, now as I am closer to the middle of my Seventies, I know my past attitudes are not going to work for me. Consciousness of my moments are reveling within. I however do not want to be tempered. I will move forward within this notion that hovers over my thoughts by a meditation on death and life, as a mantra. In meditation when your mind has been dubbed the monkey mind or spinning out of control, I must continually be forgiving of self. This mind is doing what the mind does. For me fearing death is the same human response that I might fearing any unknown. The Pandemic has tempered me.
This is where fantasy and reality collide
These days my observations find reality writing stories in my head, waiting for form. I find words that have spilled out of my mouth as my mind whirls around wishing for what I had. This however is not accepting what is! In my desired fantasies, wrapping me in what keeps me going for a long time. When reality hits, I see that this desire has brought me to the point of a deep and desperate need to be acknowledged. There are times when an explosion of thoughts spill unwelcomed. There is no time for explanation. While I no longer have to rely on my fantastic history of life’s stories, which has made me interesting or perhaps quirky, I concede. A little bit crazy to some. Continually if nothing else even excitable! I have created fun and frolic along the way. I look in the mirror and for the first time I feel I can own my beauty; past and present. I don’t have to be acknowledged. I am masked in the inner world meeting an unseen external world.
Now is a time where I put my desire’s into form, there seems to be an accentuated harrowing that finds disbelief in what my life has become. Can I ever feel that I am desired and have my inner world meet my outer existence? Will all of my stories be told and should they even be. My fantastic words can be met with disbelief. What was I even doing as out popped words; so out of context. What do I want and was my suppression of self finally slipping out like an overloaded valve, waiting to be turned on. Yes I think so! My stories are all based in the history of my years.
