Monthly Archives: June 2013

Turn around

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We live in a fast paced world.  Everything is digital, messages are sent instantly and we are rushing to get to our next appointment, spin class, second job or meeting with friends because we pack so much activity into a short span of time.  Our ever turning world continues to spin and we respond by maintaining our pace of putting one foot in front of the other.

But in our rush to live our lives, we may have overlooked a few important moments that deserve a second glance.  We need to take the time to turn around every now and then and make sure we absorb the things that are pushing us in the direction we are going.  Sometimes the moments we never give a second thought require a few more minutes of pensive consideration to see the value in that frame of time.

owl

(image credit: Dan Kaiser)

Stop and turn around.  The view behind you may be worth that pause for reflection.

The serpent

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sky 015

The serpent follows the horizon,

devouring life in its path.

Only the sky and the treetops

feel the true power of its wrath.

Wildlife runs for cover,

Nature cowers in its wake.

The beast only knows hunger,

it’s searching for souls to take.

Hunger rises from within,

it feeds on the energy of life.

The sky wants to charm the beast,

but the serpent cuts like a knife.

The beast crests on the line of the trees,

mouth hungry and fueled by thirst.

Its longing for life and stolen blood

many times have been rehearsed.

Its rise and fall with the blowing wind

will follow the line of the trees.

But its ever longing hunger for life

will forever float in the breeze.

My monochromatic life – Trifecta challenge

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Their words used to burn my ears.  Their taunts were like barbed wired that punctured my skin.  I was called ridiculous, a loser, a freak.  But not one of those people took the time to think about how my looks on the outside reflected the pain and suffering I felt on the inside.  Not a single one of them took the time to get to know me as a person – they only chose to judge me.  My teenage angst was buried under layers of black make-up and dark clothing.  My rebellion against my parents and my hatred for the abuse was punctuated with silver jewelry piercing much of my skin.  Perhaps I thought my demons would escape through the holes in my skin.  Perhaps I wanted any attention I could get or perhaps I never truly cared about their opinions in the first place.  After 1499 piercings the demons still lurk in the shadows and the memories still remain.  Maybe the next one will be the magic one.

~

A piece of fiction written for the Trifecta Challenge:

On to the weekly prompt.  This week’s word was suggested by Marie Nicole.  Have fun with it and we’ll see you on Friday.
 

What day is it?

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This time of year, I work more than the normal forty hour work week and a weekend off is a thing of the past.  When life travels at a million miles an hour, I tend to lose track of the days of the week.  I spent most of the day this past Wednesday thinking it could possibly have been Friday.

days of the week

Perhaps it was just wishful thinking but Fridays really mean nothing to me from May to October and thus begins my confusion.  I have actually come to thrive on NOT having weekends off in the summer.  My mid-week day off is far less chaotic in terms of getting things done in the small tourist town I call home but it does nothing to alleviate the perplexity of knowing the day of the week.

I’m sure I am not alone in the quest to follow the weekly calendar.  Life marches on whether we are able to keep pace, whether we fall behind or whether we skip ahead a few days. It’s a sure sign that we need to take each day in stride and not let ourselves drown in the wave we are riding.

Time forces us to grow, to shift, to adapt.  Every time we blink our eyes the world shifts beneath our feet and moments evolve into days.  It is no great mystery that we lose some along the way but the important part is that we keep our head above water.

Every 24 hour period ends in the word “day” and, although the frantic pace of life inadvertently makes me think I’ve missed one or two, I’m just happy I keep living to see another one.

The Intervention

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Dear Mother Nature,

We have all been asked to write a letter to you so we can tell you how your illness is affecting us individually.  Starting off with “this is the hardest letter I’ve ever had to write” would be horrifically untrue.  This is one of the simplest tasks I have been faced with throughout my 44 years on this planet.

I’m going to be blunt in this letter and not mince words. This is an intervention.  From those of us who generally feel at peace with you, we have come to you with these words of utter disgust and contempt.  The state of your mental capacity is worrisome and borderline reckless.  For the past few days, we have endured the wrath of your mood swings and succumbed to your whimsical attitude in regards to everyone around you.  This is not the being we have known you to be and the change in your behavior is more than mildly disconcerting.

Too many times over the past two months we have shamelessly ignored the warning signs, hoping that the initial symptoms would not manifest themselves into a textbook case of narcissism.  But our hopes have been crushed in the face of the evolving disease and you no longer seem to have any concern for those in the eye of your storms.

We are pleading with you to get well.  We face each day with uncertainty and would like to see you return to your balanced and seasonally charming self.  Although the outcome of an intervention is meant to severe ties if an agreement to treatment is not reached, we are not as fortunate to have that ball in our court.  We would hope that you hear our pleas and end the 24 degree swings in temperatures during a 24-hour period.

The prescription awaits and only you have the power to take those happy pills and feel well again.

With very kind regards,

Muskoka, Ontario

In the still of the night

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Tonight, in Mother Nature’s fury,  we were graced by another storm exemplified by strong winds, rain, thunder and lightning.  Living in a rural area means we are well accustomed to living without power during these tumultuous acts of divine intervention.  The plethora of trees bend to the power that nature possesses and ultimately the lines of power created by man are no match for the Goddess of weather.  We have been plunged into darkness and are submerged in the sounds of silence.

The world, as we know it, has come to a grinding halt and we are left bathed in the ethereal glow of candlelight.  The earth has been baptised by the rain and the creatures of the night have true reign over their territory.  Man cannot disturb what it cannot see.

I enjoy these moments.  These nights that I am cloaked in darkness allow me the time to truly shut out the world.  I have no cause to watch mindless television or surf the web in search of something to idly entertain my brain.  I am left with my thoughts, transcribed in dim light by pen to paper, and a sense of relaxation that can only come from having no outward distractions to blame for my laziness.  This is true escape.

My world, apart from two small candles, is black.  The stillness of the night soothes my soul and the quiet envelops me like a blanket.  I pull myself into it, feel the comfort of its solitude and soak in the warmth of its bliss.  The creatures that sing their haunting refrains lull me into a trance.  Pin-pricks of light dappled the sky as Fire Flies dance on the velvet backdrop of their own Black Light Theatre.  The night is beautiful.

fireflies

(image credit: globeattractions.com)

Sitting in my darkened tomb I know, as all good things do, this moment of bliss will come to an end.  Power will be restored and the world will be bathed in harsh light and modern reality.  Thankfully the world I live in, so far removed from city life, can remain this dark if I wish to keep the outside world extinguished.  Even when the power is restored I can live in my alternate reality by leaving the lights off, enjoying the speckled light show outside my window and embracing the still of the night.