Life carried me out to sea gently on the waves, so subtle, like a faint whisper, that I didn't even notice at first. Soon I became farther and farther from the shore of the person I wanted to be. Dreams and childhood became like a mirage, fuzzy and liquid, sinking to the bottom. That young self was dissolved into the lapping waves on the Sea.
Now what is left is bare and new, yet still floating and drifting on the same sea. There are always new dreams that bubble to the surface some of them are absorbed and others sink back again. Still drifting, there is hope that one day a new self will appear and stay, or perhaps totally fade away.
Monday, February 20, 2012
Monday, March 28, 2011
Title Unknown
If the black in the night sky were light and the stars were only absent points
If the moon absorbed all light
If the Earth were a billion times its size
Could we then be different people here too?
If we wore our hearts on the outside and our thoughts ran like movies that everyone could see
If we could simply live without dying or needing to be born but just always to be
Would we be better people, would kindness be not the exception but the rule?
If we could trade this, would we?
If we could have this world, should we?
If the moon absorbed all light
If the Earth were a billion times its size
Could we then be different people here too?
If we wore our hearts on the outside and our thoughts ran like movies that everyone could see
If we could simply live without dying or needing to be born but just always to be
Would we be better people, would kindness be not the exception but the rule?
If we could trade this, would we?
If we could have this world, should we?
Sunday, April 22, 2007
The Reunion
Hours passed as you spoke of your journeys. We were apart for long years, and there was much to recount. Our laughter filled the gaps when there were no words.
After the reunion the trail began. The realization that, in so many separate years apart, separate people were born. Withdrawal began, for fear of self preservation. That self found apart was valued. It was all that was known and familiar. Seeing it being melded was perceived as the death off all that was its essence. Yet somehow they stayed.
Over hills of time and patience a new creature is born between the two. One a little of the old and a little of the new. It is a shared journey of unique paths, crossing where they might and diverging where they must. A similar memory shared, it is a life that serves the purpose of happiness and none other. If happiness should cease, then it will dissolve of its own.
After the reunion the trail began. The realization that, in so many separate years apart, separate people were born. Withdrawal began, for fear of self preservation. That self found apart was valued. It was all that was known and familiar. Seeing it being melded was perceived as the death off all that was its essence. Yet somehow they stayed.
Over hills of time and patience a new creature is born between the two. One a little of the old and a little of the new. It is a shared journey of unique paths, crossing where they might and diverging where they must. A similar memory shared, it is a life that serves the purpose of happiness and none other. If happiness should cease, then it will dissolve of its own.
There will always be an origin, a journey, and a return. Without which, no understanding of self can be established.
Morning light is the symbol of the recognition that there is a dawning of hope even through the darkest night.
On this journey it must be remembered that you remain unchanged by what men have made of you.
If you only knew those who walk by you, fear would be impossible.
Morning light is the symbol of the recognition that there is a dawning of hope even through the darkest night.
On this journey it must be remembered that you remain unchanged by what men have made of you.
If you only knew those who walk by you, fear would be impossible.
Grains of thought
A river, given enough time, will wash away a mountain, a grain at a time. The smallest grain of thought can drastically alter the course of your life, just by having that same thought every day. A process is put into play, from these seemingly insignificant fragments, and mountains will be moved a day at a time.
Immortal Dreams
You've come here to find love, to relieve your fears and bow your head to relinquish the grief. Love is unyielding and rejuvenates all things. Here you will find love is water to the thirsty souls who have been to that vacuous desert of loneliness and despair and have emerged once again to live.
Those that search on far away shores, in long nights with dark waters crashing upon your buoyant souls, will find the beacon of love drawing you near. In time you will remember the waves and night were only inventions of the wayward soul. When and where love was born, love never leaves its source, the soul must only remember where to look.
It is the light of the soul remembered that is the only reason for life. Without this perception there is nothing. From nothing sprang everything into existence with one idea. I am light. Which also means, I am love. The light placed in the soul , a tiny spark, is never extinguish even by the darkest night, even as it seems to float upon the black sea of doubt.
The night sky becomes the reminder as we look up. Infinite sparks of light traveling on dark empty seas of black. A speck of light for each soul, and as above so below. When each soul remembers its purpose the dark will melt away in infinite light. As long as the stars remain in distance, alone and wandering, the night will remain. The only blackness that remains is the lack of remembrance. The remembrance of what you are is your salvation.
You are not a body. It can be a grotesque thing covered in appealing cloaks. It has potential for ultimate horror which can not be looked upon or tolerated. The body gave you the ability for action and reaction. The ability to choose and suffer consequence. To harm and be harmed in every way imaginable. You can't be an owner of a body and not recognize its vulnerability. It is the immortal covered in mortal flesh. The immortal falls asleep and in its dreams believes that it is mortal and is given the opportunity to act out dreams of being mortal. It can pretend to take life, make life, and watch its life terminate. It can play God for a while.
You have essentially dreamt you are free for a little while but you are only free in a narrow realm, a borrowed freedom, ending in death.
Return in grace and in peace. Bring no sorrow for there is no realm here in which it will have real meaning. There is only joy, for joy is what remains when you awake and realize you made a place of refuge for fear and pain yourself by housing it, by giving it reality and meaning.
Those that search on far away shores, in long nights with dark waters crashing upon your buoyant souls, will find the beacon of love drawing you near. In time you will remember the waves and night were only inventions of the wayward soul. When and where love was born, love never leaves its source, the soul must only remember where to look.
It is the light of the soul remembered that is the only reason for life. Without this perception there is nothing. From nothing sprang everything into existence with one idea. I am light. Which also means, I am love. The light placed in the soul , a tiny spark, is never extinguish even by the darkest night, even as it seems to float upon the black sea of doubt.
The night sky becomes the reminder as we look up. Infinite sparks of light traveling on dark empty seas of black. A speck of light for each soul, and as above so below. When each soul remembers its purpose the dark will melt away in infinite light. As long as the stars remain in distance, alone and wandering, the night will remain. The only blackness that remains is the lack of remembrance. The remembrance of what you are is your salvation.
You are not a body. It can be a grotesque thing covered in appealing cloaks. It has potential for ultimate horror which can not be looked upon or tolerated. The body gave you the ability for action and reaction. The ability to choose and suffer consequence. To harm and be harmed in every way imaginable. You can't be an owner of a body and not recognize its vulnerability. It is the immortal covered in mortal flesh. The immortal falls asleep and in its dreams believes that it is mortal and is given the opportunity to act out dreams of being mortal. It can pretend to take life, make life, and watch its life terminate. It can play God for a while.
You have essentially dreamt you are free for a little while but you are only free in a narrow realm, a borrowed freedom, ending in death.
Return in grace and in peace. Bring no sorrow for there is no realm here in which it will have real meaning. There is only joy, for joy is what remains when you awake and realize you made a place of refuge for fear and pain yourself by housing it, by giving it reality and meaning.
Saturday, September 30, 2006
On Fire Eternal
You stand over me looking into the pool of the sea and find my reflection changes as time facets the surface. The pool is my home and my reflection the only life I know. The sun serves to bargain and bring new light to your eyes and I am tempted to draw you to the pool with light that does lie. Inside the languid depths I know to be myself, I live free in the water and no one knows what they can not see. No image is reflected but there the beauty lies. It shines just as bright from the inside, not for eyes but for hearts to find, in what seems like the dark. Enter blind into that pool if you wish to know and trust what you will not see is everything that surface sight could never know . Submerge yourself in the place where light does not reach but yet there is love and always there is truth. In time, what your eyes would have wanted me to give will find that the heart saw first, that loving the reflection changes but the essence in the depths is where I kept my love on fire for you eternal.
REA 9-30-06
REA 9-30-06
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
(This photo was take by me in Dry Tortugas National Park, July 2005)
Along the shore I walked, sinking and rising in momentary quick sands of ocean and grain. Not a sound was heard but rhythmic movement, just water rushed by the eternal tide. This magic place where gulls and fish and shells and land, find clouds and sky, meeting time and light.
I began to wonder how far I had come and how much more should I go. My footprints vanish behind me leaving no trace that I had passed. So should I go on forever and try to make them last? How will anyone ever know I was here? How will I know I was here when the ocean steadfastly scrubs away the past. I ponder these questions while settling in the sand, finding no journey as long as mine now. I have no trace of prints of future or past. While I sit and vanish I realize I had already been gone and this life was just that with no trace in the sand.
Rosey's Writings, Photos, and Influences
I wanted to start this blog to share some of my writing and some of my favorite photos from my life that I have taken or that people in my family have taken. I started writing when I was pretty young. It's always been a past time of mine. One of the first stories I wrote was to get into a private school in 6th grade. I had to write an essay to be considered for a spot in Highlands Day School, which I did attend. Mostly however my writing is for me only. I did most of my writing in High School and College. I have not shared it with anyone besides family or close friends. It tends to be pretty reflective of the way I'm feeling at the time. I spend a lot of time in High School and College being pretty lonely, even though I was surrounded by people and involved in many activities. I still did a lot of self reflection and searching. My writing is usually the end result of that.
Mostly I've written about Spirituality and Nature. Those seem to be two common themes in my life that I always somehow stay connected to no matter what. Growing up my Dad would send me books on different types of spiritual interests he was pursuing. From the age of 10 I had books available on Native American spirituality, Buddhism, Edgar Cayce, and Brian Weiss among others. It gave me a window on the world, that there were all manner of beliefs and a much bigger more interesting world out there than what it just right in front of me. I had a deep need to understand why things happen in this world, what purpose we serve on a grand scale, and the deepest questions of where we came from. I still am fascinated with all of these questions and I know that they will probably never be answered completely but I feel like I have found some answers for myself that I was searching for. Those answers may be meaningful to me and to no one else, I am fully aware of that fact, and that is perhaps why I have not shared my writings until now. My writing is part of a self-search and really not meant to influence others in one way or another. I search in my writing to express myself with out holding back. If there's pain there, then it comes out, if there is reverence, or wonder, or beauty, I'd like for that to come out too.
To me, writing is very similar to photography or paintings. Both have the ability to touch us very instantly and deeply and remind us of the creative abilities we posses and the immense amount of beauty there is in the world and in ourselves. Sometimes when I write I see pictures or imagine various scenes that I am describing. I spent a lot of time at the beach growing up and so when I write I like to use imagery that, when I read it, makes me feel like I can feel the sand under my feet again.
I really love photos, I guess it's in my blood. My Dad is a black and white landscape photographer and has been for 30 years now. It is really his passion in life. I am fortunate to have many very wonderful black and white photos that he has taken over the years. I hope to be able to share them as well as some photos that I have taken that are some of my favorites. I'm really glad to be able to share them along with my writing. I hope to someday publish a book of writing and photos, perhaps one like "Windows to the Light" that my Dad has some of his photos published in.
Mostly I've written about Spirituality and Nature. Those seem to be two common themes in my life that I always somehow stay connected to no matter what. Growing up my Dad would send me books on different types of spiritual interests he was pursuing. From the age of 10 I had books available on Native American spirituality, Buddhism, Edgar Cayce, and Brian Weiss among others. It gave me a window on the world, that there were all manner of beliefs and a much bigger more interesting world out there than what it just right in front of me. I had a deep need to understand why things happen in this world, what purpose we serve on a grand scale, and the deepest questions of where we came from. I still am fascinated with all of these questions and I know that they will probably never be answered completely but I feel like I have found some answers for myself that I was searching for. Those answers may be meaningful to me and to no one else, I am fully aware of that fact, and that is perhaps why I have not shared my writings until now. My writing is part of a self-search and really not meant to influence others in one way or another. I search in my writing to express myself with out holding back. If there's pain there, then it comes out, if there is reverence, or wonder, or beauty, I'd like for that to come out too.
To me, writing is very similar to photography or paintings. Both have the ability to touch us very instantly and deeply and remind us of the creative abilities we posses and the immense amount of beauty there is in the world and in ourselves. Sometimes when I write I see pictures or imagine various scenes that I am describing. I spent a lot of time at the beach growing up and so when I write I like to use imagery that, when I read it, makes me feel like I can feel the sand under my feet again.
I really love photos, I guess it's in my blood. My Dad is a black and white landscape photographer and has been for 30 years now. It is really his passion in life. I am fortunate to have many very wonderful black and white photos that he has taken over the years. I hope to be able to share them as well as some photos that I have taken that are some of my favorites. I'm really glad to be able to share them along with my writing. I hope to someday publish a book of writing and photos, perhaps one like "Windows to the Light" that my Dad has some of his photos published in.
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