Learning to Live Again

condo on the beach

Contemporary Microfiction

It was spring now, and he was still angry. How could God let this happen? It didn’t make any sense, and there was no good that could come out of it. The only thing that kept him from drowning himself in alcohol, was that she had been killed by a drunk driver. It had been three months now since the funeral, and the pain was too much, it was endless, and he thought he might die.

He pulled back the curtain from the living room window, and looked at the beach. From seven stories up, he could see for miles, and the horizon seemed to echo his thoughts about an eternity of pain. Then he noticed a couple walking parallel with the waves, along the beach, holding hands. He closed the curtain quickly.

People meant well, including his father, who had sent him here to get his head together. He needed to get out of town anyway, get some fresh air. No matter where he was though, he was miserable. He went to the grocery store that afternoon, hoping to lose himself in the routine. Should he go out to dinner tonight? And maybe later go to the Purple Haze Café? No that was out. He would cook up a vegetable omelet, without the mushrooms, and stay at the condo.

For the next two days he avoided the beach. He stared at the walls, and sometimes watched TV. He knew he was being stupid, but he needed time to think. How could he live without Susan? He tried the curtain in the living room again, and as he looked out, he had to admit it was beautiful.

Instead of fixing himself dinner that evening, he went down in the elevator, and out the condo door, to the sand and the waves. No wonder he had resisted coming out here. He hadn’t wanted comfort and peace, and here it was now staring him in the face. He started taking deep breaths. Why was it nature was like this? Offering what he didn’t have, and what he needed?

Instead of sitting down, he decided to walk, close to the waves. He took off his shoes, and couldn’t help but notice the freedom, of his own bare feet. He walked, thinking about how he could straighten himself out. Should he try yoga? Therapy? His father thought so. He hated the idea though of talking to a stranger, somebody who was qualified simply from a college degree. No, not that. He walked for miles, losing track of the time. He did actually pray some, well a little. All he said was, “You’ll have to help me with this one.” “This is too much to carry, way too much.” And that was it, that’s all he said.

As he walked back, towards the condo, for some reason he thought of going to church. His mother would love that! He had not been in years. Was there a Catholic church around here? He would find out. Tomorrow was Sunday after all. Maybe after the service he could talk to the priest. He could ask him….well he could ask him…..about forgiveness. He felt like he was digging himself out of a deep pit, but at least he was making the effort.

 beach with sun

Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

Writing © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

images from google

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While My Guitar Gently Weeps

This video is a beautiful tribute to George Harrison and the Beatles. When I listened to this song recently (after many years) I was amazed with the words. They are rich with meaning, and there is a lamenting here over the lack of love in our world for one another. I especially like the line of “I see the love there that’s sleeping.” It is deeply spiritual, and compassionate. Here are the words to it:

I look at you all see the love there that’s sleeping,

while my guitar gently weeps,

I look at the floor and I see it needs sweeping,

still my guitar gently weeps.

I don’t know why nobody told you,

how to unfold your love,

I don’t know how someone controlled you,

they bought and sold you.

I look at the world and I notice it’s turning,

while my guitar gently weeps,

with every mistake we must surely be learning,

still my guitar gently weeps.

Well…I don’t know how you were diverted,

you were perverted too,

I don’t know how you were inverted,

no one alerted you.

I look at you all see the love that’s sleeping,

while my guitar gently weeps,

look at you all,

still my guitar gently weeps.

Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

Commentary © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

lyrics by George Harrison

video from youtube

The Strength of the Mountain

mountain and lake

There is a calling in each of us,

to find the mountain,

the treasure,

the place of beauty and peace.

In the mountain,

we can see past,

the pine trees, the oaks,

the owls greeting us,

beyond the physical,

searching,

in the crevices,

we can find the treasure,

buried in us.

If I look deep enough,

if I dig into my soul,

I find the answers,

walking through the serenity,

the rivers and streams,

rocks for strength,

I see clearly,

looking up,

there are no limits.

If there is a storm,

there is always a refuge,

a path,

that leads to His strength,

the source of life.

I want to live, in the mountain,

He has given me.

 

Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

Poetry © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

image from google

video from youtube

Renewed in the Clouds

hawk wings

Have you ever flown with wings that take you,

far above the heavens, and beyond words?

in the quiet of the clouds, there is oneness.

I’ve never heard a cloud speak,

except in the anger of thunder,

and even then it is brief.

I need to soar into the mist, and see,

to see with different eyes, clear eyes,

what it’s really like,

the earth from the heavens,

the beauty of living in the sun,

while breathing in the air of peace,

soaring above words, above the strife,

seeing creation, and the people,

connected again.

Where there is no war, and the battle,

has been won.

Wholeness.

 

Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

Poetry © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

images from google

video from youtube

Quotes About Your Knowledge

Yourself

Then said a teacher, Speak to us of teaching.

And he said:

No man can reveal to you aught, but that which already lies half asleep in the dawning of your knowledge.

The teacher who walks in the shadow of the temple, among his followers, gives not of his wisdom but rather of his faith and lovingness.

If he is indeed wise he does not bid you enter the house of his wisdom, but rather leads you to the threshold of your own mind.

The astronomer may speak to you of his understanding of space, but he cannot give you his understanding.

The musician may sing to you of the rhythym which is in all space, but he cannot give you the ear which arrests the rhythym nor the voice that ehoes it.

For the vision of one man lends not its wings to another man.

And even as each one of you stands alone in God’s knowledge, so must each one of you be alone in his knowledge of God and in his understanding of the earth.

by Kahlil Gibran

old city

Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

Gibran quote, from The Prophet, pp. 56-57

images from google

Healing the Wounds

sadness

Is there a healer?

for this broken glass,

these jagged and dangerous,

pieces,

don’t give me generic medicine,

band-aid for a stab wound,

cross-cut.

I need the strength of the Lakota,

to get back up again,

the certainty of the mountains,

the reasoning of the rivers,

or at least a stream, to make sense,

of this world,

a sunrise with some hope,

before I disappear as a mist,

forgotten like the fog.

Now I know,

where the Psalms came from,

the flood needs to stop.

I’m grabbing my backpack,

to meet with You,

on top of the mountain.

This surgery,

may take awhile.

sunrise on lake

Note: This poem is about previous experiences.

Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

Poetry © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

images from google

Dogma

people praying

I’m not impressed with your dogma,

when you say things with a snarl,

looking down,

from your self-righteous mountain.

I’m not scared of the hijab,

and when I see a Buddhist praying,

I see the beauty, prayers rising.

Steeples and stained glass,

enchant, and offer peace.

Some of the most beautiful people,

I have ever met, don’t have a faith,

others light a candle, or breathe in,

the mystery of nature.

Don’t look down on me,

don’t judge me for loving,

and respecting each one.

Leave these beautiful people alone,

don’t be the judge of them,

pretending to be God,

otherwise you may see the hellfire,

you so enjoy talking about.

Light a candle instead.

from commons.wikimedia via google

Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

Poetry © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

images from google