In man’s hurried chase for advancement, a world has been fashioned of despondent gloom, a mechanical land of literalism and materialism that rebuffs life’s essential spark. An enchanted dominion of numbers, where that which cannot be measured does not exist,…
Cup of tears
Brilliance flits at shadow’s fringe, delighting the twirling downpour. Leaves and roots thirst unopposed. Unwinding the foolishness with a child’s laughter, I come to share a cup of tears.
Falling deeply
Transcending mediocrity, sloughing off discontent’s turbid waters through discovery of weighty sincerity, is a pursuit of silence. No fanfare of audience or finish line trumpets the vitality of arrival. To feel deeply is to fall deeply, not to stumble back…
Ego’s indifference
Experience’s implication that the world is indifferent to our fate shakes the core, loosening forever the foundations of trust in fate’s reason. Meaning and purpose do not remain empty, non-personal words, but evolve, eventually filling a canvas with spattering pastels…
On your own
Sovereign emptiness glides into place, dragging the soul into dread darkness as the universe’s dismal fate slithers into each crevasse of the mind with the promise of perpetually lingering eternity. Yet, to avoid entry into this glorious wasteland is to…
Shadow of doubt
To recognize the purposelessness of life is an odyssey, a sail to nowhere with the winds of ego shifting aimlessly, offering no headway as gale and doldrums threaten with equal urgency. There are no new revelations, only universal truths recycled…
Exploring exploring
Twenty-one years ago, I began a quest of self-discovery that is only becoming clear to me now. I was flying for United Airlines at the time, well before my Parkinson’s diagnosis, and had grown unsatisfied with a life of going…
The bear went over the mountain…
Climbing, head bowed in effort, legs churn to crest the apex only to find still another desolate rise taunting the familiar. “The bear went over the mountain; the bear went over the mountain…” A child’s tedium sing-songs as timeless remnant,…
Where gritty meets sublime
Browsing in a used bookstore the other day, I came across an original hard cover copy of “Where the Wild Things are” by Maurice Sendak, a marvelously playful romp into childhood’s dark side. The story’s hero, Max, escapes the drudgery…
Desolate exploration
Many years ago, well before my Parkinson’s diagnosis, my mother gave me a small piece of wall art depicting a Greek fresco of Saint George slaying the dragon. She proclaimed it to portray “Saint Peter, slaying his next dragon.” She…