Today, I was atop the observation deck of the ferry from Craignure to Oban.
I walked up to the railings, to watch the waves. Somehow, the combination of the sun in my eyes, the cool breeze, the quiet crowd, the gentle sea and myself for company - it made me smile. Not a little one made to myself but the kind of smile on the very edge of laughter. I closed my eyes and took in the breeze and the smile grew wider!
I popped out my little notebook and started to scribble furiously. It's too beautiful a feeling not to start writing about it before it fades away! And my mind and spirit has been on overdrive ever since. I cannot stop writing and thinking and inspiration is rushing in like waterworks exploded. I'm honestly exhausted but I still have so much to accomplish!
I don't really know what triggered it. Honestly, it was just a bit of wind, warmth and water. And my senses have sharpened so. I will sleep well tonight.
So, goodnight.
Friday, July 22
The Tap.
There, in the plains of my mind.
A tap.
Rusty with neglect.
Dry.
Then, a breeze.
Sweet and fresh.
As familiar as the warmest memory.
A memory of laughter and liberty, washed in sunshine.
Stroking the rough surface of the tap.
Slowly, slowly, Rust follows the Breeze.
Away, away, Rust follows the Breeze.
The Tap shivers.
Then, another breeze.
Bubbling with joy and hope.
Unlimited possibilities!
The Miracle Breeze.
The Tap shivers.
The Tap shivers.
The Tap stops.
What's that?
Is that ..
That pressure.
The familiar feeling.
It builds up.
Slowly, slowly.
The Miracle Breeze soothes.
Then silence.
It's job is done.
An explosion!
What was once dry, is now refreshed.
What was once rust, is now polished.
What was once neglected, is now nourished.
A tap.
Rusty with neglect.
Dry.
Then, a breeze.
Sweet and fresh.
As familiar as the warmest memory.
A memory of laughter and liberty, washed in sunshine.
Stroking the rough surface of the tap.
Slowly, slowly, Rust follows the Breeze.
Away, away, Rust follows the Breeze.
The Tap shivers.
Then, another breeze.
Bubbling with joy and hope.
Unlimited possibilities!
The Miracle Breeze.
The Tap shivers.
The Tap shivers.
The Tap stops.
What's that?
Is that ..
That pressure.
The familiar feeling.
It builds up.
Slowly, slowly.
The Miracle Breeze soothes.
Then silence.
It's job is done.
An explosion!
What was once dry, is now refreshed.
What was once rust, is now polished.
What was once neglected, is now nourished.
Wednesday, July 13
Tuesday, July 12
The Five Stages of Grief (Kübler-Ross)
- Denial
- Anger
- Bargaining
- Depression
- Acceptance
You never really know how far you've fallen until you've reached the end of your climb out - where the air is fresh, where the heart is light, where the hope is renewed - and you look back at the darkness from where you came.
And shudder, making an oath to oneself, "Never again."
And shudder, making an oath to oneself, "Never again."
Thursday, July 7
the two towers
Sam:
It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end. Because, how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened?
But in the end, it's only a passing thing. A shadow. Even darkness must past.
A new day will come. And when the sun shines, it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stay with you, that meant something, even if you were too small to understand why.
But I think Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now.
Folk in those stories, had lots of chances of turnin' back, only they didn't. They kept goin'. Because they were holdin' on to something.
Frodo:
What are we holding on to, Sam?
Sam:
That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it's worth fightin' for.
It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end. Because, how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened?
But in the end, it's only a passing thing. A shadow. Even darkness must past.
A new day will come. And when the sun shines, it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stay with you, that meant something, even if you were too small to understand why.
But I think Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now.
Folk in those stories, had lots of chances of turnin' back, only they didn't. They kept goin'. Because they were holdin' on to something.
Frodo:
What are we holding on to, Sam?
Sam:
That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it's worth fightin' for.
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