Wrapped in Love

1st Sunday after Christmas
Readings:
Old Testament: Exodus 13:1-3a, 11-15
Epistle: Colossians 3:12-17
Gospel Luke 2:22-40

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

I had lunch with a friend the other day, and we were talking about watching the wonders of God's plan unfolding before our eyes. It is truly amazing to see God's will at work, and to be able to recognize those times when He is using you as an instrument of His love is an experience like no other. My friends, we are all capable of being these instruments so often, and probably even more often than we are. So we should always be ready for service. We should live as though at any moment the Holy Spirit, sent from God, will work in us to help another.

And so to be ready at any moment, we should live every moment in His love, and as shining examples and beacons of His light and love. The Epistle lesson this week from Colossians says, "As God's cheson people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as teh Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity."

It is the way we should live. Displaying all these qualities at all times, doing each one in the love that Christ gave us. And we should be these things not only to each other, as brothers and sisters in Christ, but also to everyone else you meet.
Do not begrudge each other. As I know this occurs, I implore you to give up the grudge and cling to love, and forgiveness, for the sake of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the will of God the Father. If you do not forgive, why, then, should God forgive you? But forgive, and you will be forgiven. "Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful." If a body wars against itself, what good can it be accomplished? But remember Christ, your light, and the directions he gave us, so that we may move forward confidently, with love, until that day when He returns.

In this New Year I wish for you all to make it your resolution to strive to exemplify these virtues; to always be at the ready; to live in the Spirit. "Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom... with gratitude in your hearts to God." And to do all this, wrapped in love.

As you enter this new year, may the Lord God, creator of all things, bless you richly, keep you in His love, and grant you His peace.

Christmas

Christmas
Readings:
Old Testament: Isaiah 52:7-10
Epistle: Hebrews 1:1-6 (7-12)
Gospel: John 1:1-14(15-18)

Grace and Peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

1st: Merry Christmas!

2nd: I debated this week on what to write, as I usually do. I wrote a few lines, and that didn't seem to work for me, so I approached it from a different angle, which also didn't work. And then a third, and the same. But a thought came to me as I was standing outside on a cold night, which I felt made the most sense in terms of what I'm trying to accomplish with these writings. So this will be a more freestyle post, writing as the thoughts move along.

I really do enjoy the gospel lesson for the week, but find that it lacks in the traditional Christmas story as told in other areas. When I think of Christmas I get a picture in my head of Linus from the Peanuts comic strip, standing on stage with the spotlight shining, reading the Christmas story from Luke chapter 2. But today I am going to write you concerning the light that is the life contained in Christ, the Word who was sent from the Father, who is with the Father, and through whom all things were made.

My thoughts run as this:
Many things can be said concerning the arrival of Christ on that spectacular starlit night; about the shepherds who received the angels words; about the angels singing their praises; or about the wisemen who followed the star to bring gifts to the King of the Jews.

"In him was life, and that life was the light of men." The light that is life is what came down to men when Christ arrived. His purpose was to illuminate the darkness, "The light shines in the darkness," The life contained within him- through whom all things were made- is the light of men. It is that thing that guides us from the other side, and testifies within each of us that there is more to this life, more to this world, than the time we spend between sunrises. There was a separation between heaven and earth when Christ came, when he left the curtain between those two worlds was torn- this being why he preached, "the Kingdom of Heaven is near." It is nearer than a day would display to those living in darkness. When Christ gathered up flesh and came to this world, he came to testify, and teach us, about the life beyond this life, about the world beyond this world, about the Father's Kingdom, and the life eternal. He was a light to the Gentiles, to us, and praise be to God for his mercy and compassion.

"But the darkness has not understood it. " Those living in darkness cannot see the light. Those of the world only perceive the world. It is all they know. It is that in which all their hopes and dreams are contained. It is one of our Christian duties to reveal this light to those living in darkness. But the world did not recognize the light from which they came, they did not receive him. But we, as believers in Christ, the only son of the Living God, the One and Only, we are granted the right to be His children. Not an earthly birth, not of blood, but "born of God."

I keep repeating, "He is the light" in my head. It is a phrase that I can not explain, other than to say, "He is the light.'But the darkness has not understood.'" So I suppose what I am trying to say this Christmas is that we should keep in our minds the light that Christ brought with him to illuminate the world, to illuminate the darkness. He was not put under a table, but out in the open, so that his light, his life, could illuminate the darkness.
May the Father of all things be gracious to you this Christmas, and may the Peace of the Lord, which surpasses all understanding, be with you.

Money and Power (an Anomoly)

In this anomaly to the weekly writings, I cover a subject of my choosing. I often, as you know, experience random thoughts that can often turn over my mind for days. This was one those, and apart of a broader subject that I often debate with myself.

Money and Power. Power and Money. I guess it is a matter of understanding.

It is a well know phrse: money is power. But to those who are not rich in earthly wealth, this prase may seem innocuous or irrelevant to their condition, save they understand that it is those above them, rich in earthly wealth, who have the power and use it to rule over them.

Certainly, I believe, that men will acquiesce to those above them if only because they do not posess the means, or numbers, to rebel or refuse enacted laws or those nations' officials. And no man enjoys the rule of law, or the rule of another man, with which he disagrees. But, money is power, and power is money.

power comes from the latin posse, which means, "to be able." so to have money is to be able. The question is, and the point I wish to emphasize here is, "what abilities can be afforded?" And this is the true matter of understanding. For those with little money, looking nearly always at those who have more, their abilities seem trivial and are so greatly overshadowed that their perception of powerlessness becomes the reality in which they live. It leads us to look for more, to always want more, and leaves contentment and happiness on the wayside.

In these days, in this nation, simplicity has been overrun by ever-growing appetites. And perception leads us to believe that our ability becomes ever smaller. But even in the smallest amounts, money is power. Not power to rule over men, such power should not be sought. But it is the ability to clothe, and feed, and shelter. Through our daily jobs we acquire the ability to provide for our basic needs, and this should be power enough. Yet we are consumed with having more; wanting more: a car; newer, more expensive clothes; a stereo; a television; computer; cable; internet. And in the plethera of wants we lose sight of the power we have, of our ability to take control of our life and see the power we have, and find contentment. Whoever loves money never has money enough (Ecc 5:10)

So when you feel powerless, look at your situation without regard to the situation you aspire, and ask yourself how much, money or power, you truly need, and weigh that against how much you currently have. I would guess you will find yourself surprised. And if you dwell too long on the subject, then I suppose you will find yourself in my shoes, tracing my thoughts, reading scripture and wondering.

May God bless you in this time of year with the knowledge that you who believe are rightfully His children, and heirs to the life eternal.

Christ, our peace.

I apologize for posting this after the 4th Sunday in Advent, but I have been battling computer problems, which now seem to be fixed. yay!

Readings:
Old Testament: Micah 5:2-5a
Epistle: Hebrews 10:5-10
Gospel: Luke 1:39-45(46-56)

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ.

Welcome to the final Sunday in Advent. This is the last Sunday before Christmas, so I hope you all have prepared yourselves accordingly. I know that I am a last minute shopper- always looking for the perfect gifts. It seems I face a similar problem in these writingts. Always looking for the perfect words, the perfect complements in explanations, and in being able to relate the readings- a nice little bow. But then I look at the Old Testament reading and realize that its not the wrappin, or where a gift comes from; it isn't how much it costs, but it is the purpose and manner (intent) in which it is given.
Even though Bethlehem was small among the clans of Judah, it was here that our Heavenly Father said Christ should be born. A ruler whose origins were from of old, from ancient times. Christ wasn't a new or shiny gift. He wasn't wrapped in pretty packaging or topped with a bow. No, like those things that are blessed by God, they seem lowly and unassuming to the world. It is their purpose and intent that matter.

Christ came to shepherd his flock in the strength of the Lord, in the majesty of the name of the Lord God. Christ came to do this for us! Christ was born, lived, and died so that we, his flock, could live securely. And he will be our peace. (I am fond of definitions) And he will be our freedom from distress. he will be our harmony. Christ will be our tranquility. Yes, Christ is certainly all of these things. Peace comes from the indo european base "pak," which means, "to fasten". and the latin pasisci which means, "to confirm an agreement". Christ is our glue. the binding agreement between us and the Father, the creator of all things. It is our belief in him, sealed in His blood, by which we are blessed, and can rest, free from distress, in harmony and tranquility,in the knowledge that our sins are forgiven and a greater life awaits us.

I read the Gospel lesson and the one thing that jumps out at, the idea that says, "hey, look here... i relate to the foundation" is the line, "Blessed are you who has believed that what the Lord has said will be accomplished." When you believe in Christ, the son of the living God, our Heavenly Father, who created all things, you believe in that very same Father, from whom all things eminate, who has given us forgiveness and sealed it with the blood of His only son. We are fastened to Christ through our belief. And Christ will be our peace.

And when you testify about Christ you prophecy about the future, for the testimony of Christ is prophecy. And he will come again. Blessed are you who believe that the things the Lord has said will be accomplished. He set aside sacrifices and offering to do the will of God, that we may be saved. For God was not pleased with sacrifices and burnt offerings for they could not make us perfect- those who draw near for worship. If they could have made us perfect, then they would not have stopped. But Christ was perfect for us. He is our strength. The confidence of our peace. Christ died once for all mankind. By the will of the Father have we been made holy through the sacrifice of Christ Jesus, the son of the living God. Our shepherd, our peace.... the Lord is my shepherd.

By his blood we have been forgiven and by our belief have we been fastened to that forgiveness, and we can rest easy, in the knowledge the our future is secure. The Lord is our peace.

I will say it again, Rejoice!

3rd Sunday in Advent
Readings:
Old Testament: Zephaniah 3:14-20
Epistle: Pillipians 4:4-7
Gospel: Luke 7:18-28

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

To be glad (have joy) again: this is the root meaning of the origin of the word, "rejoice." And this is our message for today, and one to be taken throughout the new year. Remember Christ, his birth, his life, his sacrifice, and be glad again. Let loose of your sorrow, your sins are forgiven! Walk with your confidence in Christ, for in Him lies your joy.

Rejoice! For those of us who believe, we have been redeemed. We have intercession for our sins. And in our faith in Christ, we show faith in the Father of all things, who will take care of your needs. Truly, we are worth many sparrows. So with the joy, the gladness of our salvation in Christ we can let loose of our stress, we can worry less- in fact Christ says to not worry at all, and thus we are more calm, more glad, more mild. "Let your gentleness be evident to all."

"I will say it again, Rejoice!" and let your gentlenes be evident to all. Not just to other Christians who celebrate this blessed time of year, but also the person at the store checkout who says, "Happy Holidays," as opposed to, "Merry Christmas." Be gentle in your tone when you reply, "Merry Christmas." And do not be anxious (coming from the indo-european base angh, which means anger) about teh season, or what gifts to give, or that another town will no longer display a nativity scene on the courthouse lawn. For Christ came, and lived, and was crucified. Let Him be your foundation. Let him be the center of your Christmas celebration, and rejoice.

"I will say it again, Rejoice!" do not be anxious about anything. I'm not sure if you caught that. Do not be anxious about Anything. We know that it can be a stressful time of year, but remember Christ. Remember to hold Him at the center of the celebration and everything else will fall into line as it should be. "But in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving present your requests to God." In everything. By taking every situation to the Lord, through faith in Christ can we truly come to not be anxious about anything. For Christ is our strength and our redemption. He is the intercession between us an the Father. By his body he paid for our sins, and anything we ask in his name will be granted to those who believe.

"I will say it again, Rejoice!" "And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." Rejoice that we have been blessed. It is a blessing that was promised in the days of old and fulfilled in the birth of Christ. That a savior was to be born. He would become our righteousness, and our redemption. And we should rejoice for all these things. And also that he will come again. Rejoice. I will say it again, Rejoice!

Preparing the Way

2nd Sunday in Advent.
Readings:
Old Testament: Malachi 3:1-7b
Epistle: Philemon 1:2-11
Gospel: Luke 3:1-14 (15-20)

Grace, Mercy, and Peace be unto you from God our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

We all have a job to do. And it seems this is the season when people are at their best, when their hearts are turned towards helping others in need. You can already see the salvation army volunteers out in front of stores ringing their bells. But our job isn't a seasonal one. Is isn't to be confined to the month of advent, but rather is one that should performed througout the whole year. Just as many of you set new year's resolutions, the new year being a time of new beginnings, so should advent be a time to set new Christian goals, and one of those goals should be to prepare the way for Christ's return- to, "go forth and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit" (MT 28:19) This is our commission. This is how we prepare the way for Christ's second advent. Just as we must prepare the way for Christ's return, so was it necessary to prepare for his first coming, when he would become the Light of the World.
Now, prepare comes from the Latin word praeparar, which means "before something is brought forth." it is what must be done. My Webster's dictionary defines it this way:
1. to make ready, usually for a specific purpose; make suitable; fit; adapt; train
2. to make receptive; dispose; accustom

Our Old Testament lesson says, "See I will send my messenger, who will prepare the way before me." And we read in the Gospel lesson of John the Baptist going throughout the area around the River Jordan, where he preached of a baptism for the forgiveness of sins. This is what had to be done to prepare the way for Christ. It is in the River Jordan, by John the Baptist that Christ is baptized and receives the Holy Spirit- about which John says, "I myself did not know him, but the reason I came baptizing with water was that he might be revealed to Israel" (Jn 1:31) So only by preparing the way could Christ be revealed. And now we are all called to be ambassadors of Christ.

In the Epistle lesson, Paul, "prays that you may be active in sharing your faith, so that you may have a full understanding of every good thing we have in Christ."
In Luke, John says "produce fruit in keeping with repentance" Now, those listening to John ask him how this is accomplished, to which he replies, "the man with two tunics should share with him who has none, and the one who has food should do the same." Give in the name of Christ and share your faith, by this we produce fruit. By producing fruit, being in Christ, the vine, "the Father prunes you so that you will be even more fruitful." Andy by these things we can come to understand all the good things we have in Christ while preparing the way for his return. Christ is the reason for the season, and in His name we should diligently do our work, preparing the way for His return. His love will surely not fail or cease. God has already delivered on his promise of redemption and salvation, and that is why we celebrate in this very special time of year. Let your celebrating and rejoicing overflow to those around you, and into the coming days and months. Make it your resolution to carry on with your work in Christ's name, until that day He returns, Amen.

First Sunday in Advent

This is my first step towards achieving my personal goal of writing a message for every sunday of the new church year. Please be patient as I am sure I have lots of room for growth. The style and flow will most likely be different than in previous posts as these will be less "from the hip."

Readings:
Old Testament: Jeremiah 33:14-16
Epistle: 1 Thesselonians 3:9-13
Gospel: Luke 21: 25-36

Grace, Peace, and Mercy be unto you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

Welcome to the first Sunday of the church year: the 1st Sunday of Advent. It is a time of promises and anticipation and fulfillment.

Of course, we know, that the culmination of Advent is in the birth of our Lord and Savior , Jesus Christ, celebrated on Christmas day. It is a most wonderful time of year, and a most stressful time of year. But Advent is about looking forward with anticipation, with hope, with the surity that God fulfills his promises, to the coming of Christ.

"'The days are coming,' declares the Lord, 'when I will fulfill the gracious promise I made to the house of Israel and to the house of Judah.'"
";In those days and at that time I will make a righteous Branch sprout from David's line he will do what is just and right in the land. In those days Judah will be saved and Jerusalem will live in safety. This is the name by which he will be called, The Lord Our Righteousness." (O.T. lesson)

It seems that every year the stores are stocked and the displays for the Christmas season are put out earlier and earlier. And for us this shouldn't necessarily be considered in negative light- for us it is the beginning of our anticipation, and a reminder of our eternal hope-for we know the fulfillment of His gracious promise- our righteousness is soon to come. The birth of our Savior is on the horizon, and for the next month this should be our focus- Christ's coming.

But we should not only consider the birth orf our Lord in this time of year. We should give thanks to God for his merciful promise being kept (He always keeps his promises), and, in that truth, also look ahead to the second advent, or coming of Christ. that we should look with hope and anticipation as our redemption draws near, again with the surity that God fulfills His promises, and to the coming of the Kingdom of God. The gospel lesson for this day warns that we need to be careful, "or our hearts will be weighed down with dissipation , drunkenness and the anxieties of life, and that day will close on you unexpectedly like a trap. For it will come upon all those who live on the face of the Earth." So we have been told by the Lord, who spoke only the words that God had given him, that this second advent is coming. But, with love, he also warns of the traps, which seem ever magnified in this bustly time of year. Dissipation being idle or frivolous amusement or diversions; a wasting or squandering. do not spend your time on that which is not fruitful. Remember your redemption when the season weighs on you. I know the days are getting colder and snow is just around the corner. I know some of you are worried about how to pay for the gifts during this time of economic hardship. I know that some of you are worried about finding a job, or what to cook, or what lights and where, and the tree... it really can be frustrating. But take those moments to remember your Savior draws near; your Redemption is near at hand.

so be glad and give thanks to God, for he sent us Christ and He will again come and for those of us that have heard, that have knowledge in the spirit, it will not be a trap. Love others by warning them of the traps, and the hope that is in Christ.

Christ is drawing near! And just as the fulfillment of God's gracious promise drew near over 2000 years ago and culminated in the birth of Jesus, The Lord our Righteousness, so again will His promise be fulfilled. so look with hope and joy in Christ to the future.
Amen.

Maybe Wishes

So, life is a struggle. I recently updated my facebook status to say I am an allusion, but life, as we know it, is really the allusion (def: 1. a passing or casual reference; an incidental mention of something, either directly or by implication). What we see is not all there is, and I often refer to the defficiencies caused by perspective, but to be honest, no individual realizes, or sees, the allusions around him and is even deficient in his own perspective- that is, to say, that not even his supposed portion is realized.

Sometimes I jot down notes; incomplete thoughts; or meditations. They seem to help when I'm at a crossroad. Here is what I found today:
To what end is a life lived (truly a relavent question)
Sometimes you have to step with faith, knowing that in faith there is doubt. (in this the difference between knowledge and the path)
truth matters.
it could be as simple as it reads (on scripture passages that tend to cause me mental anguish)
God shouldn't be a force in your life. Your life should be a force for God.

As the Christian calendar turns over here in the next week or two with the beginning of advent, I have decided that I will go over the texts for each sunday beforehand and write a short passage of meaning (nearly a sermon [but shorter] for I am not an ordained minister). I think this a good goal and have already written most of the passage for the first sunday in advent. The texts will come from those used in LCMS churches and found on the LCMS.org website (truly difficult to navigate). I will copy them word for word without omission. If any of my readers would like to share with others, that is fine. And any comments or advice is always welcome.

a former myspace post

this was posted on my myspace account on 4/6/2007
I am indeed glad to tell you that we are currently in transition, from phase one (where you belong), to phase two (get in line). The humor here lies in the fact that this was constructed as part of a joke during normal work hours at the place of my previous employ, and now seems to begin to bear shreds of truth if looked at with a squinted eye and cocked head... if you look, you'll see it.

Politics. Crazy stuff... like Dizzy Gillespie jaming with Jonie Mitchell. or Air Supply rock'n out with Oasis.

All I hear- on t.v.; radio; people talking- is how bad our country is. How much we're screwing things up here and everywhere else. Well my friends, I don't know if you've seen it coming or not, but I am here to tell you that the answer is coming. Like the snake who thinks he's got you, up until the moment he feels the sharp teeth of the mongoose grab hold. I am here to tell you that the mongoose is (red), and he &*($@!*% means business. I am here to warn you of the communist plot to take over the world, don't resist because it won't work, and soon you'll find out why.

I have, in my posession, the specific plans of the communist party's attempt to take over the U.S.A. (note: before we begin you must realize that Vodka is their only weakness- as Russians proved in the previous decades)

Phase 1 (also called "where you belong")

This is their grass roots campaign. Starting out in small suburbs with disgruntled americans who believe strongly in a social government programs (i.e. welfare). This is when you will find them beginning to congregate, as well as airing communist commercials which usually involve the symbol "(red)" I think I saw one on t.v. the other day... It had some sort of communist sounding music and was a fade in/ fade out sort of commercial that said:

Inspi(red)

Desi(red)

Communism where you belong.

You should know that propaganda will be increasing in volume and their ideas should begin to permeate our government and begin to affect its policy making.



Phase 2 &3 still to come. But I can tell you that there advertising campaigns are "get in line" and "because we f*cking mean business" respectively.

I don't want to be around when they get to phase 3, but I think we can all agree that the signs of the shift from phase 1 to 2 are occuring as we speak..{ let it be known that this was incorrect and that the majority of the campaign and first few months in office were truly phase one- I guess things got extended} They've already got China and Cuba. Russia seems to be the autistic (sorry) communist or the drunk uncle. Either way- that's a whole lotta commie pigs roaming the earth.. If only you'd look towards washington... I bet you could see a whole lotta (red).

Don't get me wrong... it's a great philosophy... but you can't make people help others.. .it should be there decision.. If I don't wanna help those on welfare... I should be able to defer those taxes to something else... Like the suppression of communism in the United States.

a novella by yours truly

I have been working on a novella, a book, if you will, based on the experiences of a man I know (those who know me know the truth, but not the truth of my life). there are hints of the truth that lay beneath the surface-clues if you will. I am in the process of combining the past events of a man I knew (know), and am contemplating the attempt of puttin them into a published work. I am proud for this friend, of where he's been (what he's seen), and understand the conflicted nature of his being (though he feels alone), if any of you readers out there (5, I count you) have any input into this work, though you know not of its origin, or the second sight contained within, please let me know... the concourse of the words seems more difficult than slolomn, and his path more treacherous than a white lie... He believes his "choice" to be near at hand, and the consequence the distance between two worlds. I know I am vague, but that is my charm (and his). He (and I) have severed half the cord, but are always looking for more. In error do we see the fog rise and give form to the veil of covered vision, but when fear is conquered and clear sight is gained, who will follow?

just a short

sitting outside, this is what I pondered:
If, in the time between two days, the sun should become lost, then the days would end, but if the moon should hide its face, then we are lost.

Limitations

Today, despite the mild weather and taffy clouds moving through the advanced blue sky, I was not moved to joy. The drowning sensation that occurs is only heightened by the contentment of the world around- and nature always feeds this slide. There are things a person can and cannot due; these are his limitations. I am one of those who believes in endless limitations, but they require of that which does not make itself seen in this world. So then, among the world, there are finite limits to a person, and also to his spirit. Mine broke today. I have finally reached the bottom of the sinking sand- speaking of: you know that glimmer of hope a person sees as things seem to be growing dimmer? Well, that is merely the light reflecting off of the dirt that has collapsed beneath you.
I was eager, and satisfied, to be chasing happyness. But one must eventually come to terms with their limitations. I have come to that point. Now, frantically I search for the stairwell to lead me back to the ground upon which I stood previously. where though it is sometimes dark and murky, other times just dim with specks of light, I belong. Some things were not meant for me in this life, and the sad reality is not that I have realized it- that is progress- but that it took me so long to realize.
I have limitations. I hit them like they were an unseen stone wall blended into the horizon where the sun did shine.

Babel and the Spirit at Pentecost

About a week ago, I had a thought to look at the story of the tower of babel (of course, I had no idea why), and the immediate reason became apparent to me, and a subsequent reason was also recently revealed. I will start with the first: I am often confounded as to why it is that I do not receive answers to my questions dealing with meanings and practice- the story of babel adequately illustrates that the reason for my frustration is due to the meaning with which I search, or the intent I have while searching. The story of babel has to do with man's attempt to attain a level of divinity, to be themselves as gods, and I believe this is the reason for my confounding. I am not searching to uphold or reveal his glory, but to attain for myself a level of divinity or glory (sad, I know).
The second reason for having looked up this story came to me the other day as I was pondering verse 6 (in bold below), but it only makes sense when combined with a story from the Book of Acts (the holy spirit comes at pentecost) which immediately follows in this entry.
Genesis 11
1And the whole earth was of one language, and of one speech.
2And it came to pass, as they journeyed from the east, that they found a plain in the land of Shinar; and they dwelt there. 3And they said one to another, Go to, let us make brick, and burn them thoroughly. And they had brick for stone, and slime had they for morter. 4And they said, Go to, let us build us a city and a tower, whose top may reach unto heaven; and let us make us a name, lest we be scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth. 5And the LORD came down to see the city and the tower, which the children of men builded. 6And the LORD said, Behold, the people is one, and they have all one language; and this they begin to do: and now nothing will be restrained from them, which they have imagined to do. 7Go to, let us go down, and there confound their language, that they may not understand one another's speech. 8So the LORD scattered them abroad from thence upon the face of all the earth: and they left off to build the city. 9Therefore is the name of it called Babel; because the LORD did there confound the language of all the earth: and from thence did the LORD scatter them abroad upon the face of all the earth.
Acts 2
1When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. 2Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. 3They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. 4All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues[a] as the Spirit enabled them.
5Now there were staying in Jerusalem God-fearing Jews from every nation under heaven. 6When they heard this sound, a crowd came together in bewilderment, because each one heard them speaking in his own language. 7Utterly amazed, they asked: "Are not all these men who are speaking Galileans? 8Then how is it that each of us hears them in his own native language? 9Parthians, Medes and Elamites; residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, 10Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya near Cyrene; visitors from Rome 11(both Jews and converts to Judaism Cretans and Arabs—we hear them declaring the wonders of God in our own tongues!" 12Amazed and perplexed, they asked one another, "What does this mean?"
13Some, however, made fun of them and said, "They have had too much wine.

The bold verse from Genesis essentially says that when the people are one and speak one language, that is to say that when all men are able to understand each other, there is nothing to stop them from accomplishing anything they have imagined to do. This ties well into the Acts verse, I think. When disciples of Christ are able to speak to men in tongues (all being able to understand) there is nothing that they cannont accomplish. So with the gift of the spirit, being attained through belief in Christ Jesus, and for the purpose of furthering the Kingdom of Heaven on earth, there is nothing that cannot be accomplished. It does seem that perhaps more should be said, but I find the correlation to be relatively evident and simple to understand. Still, though, it feels incomplete.

Puddles and Oceans

I woke up today, and after shaking off the cobwebs, I found myself to be in a particularly spiritual mood. Like most days, I tend to find more trouble and friction in the pursuit, and this leads to uneasiness and frustration. Today, it seems, I am so full of words and thoughts that a proper order should not make itself clear, and the resultant clutter would make itself seem an ocean from a puddle (A good place to start, I think). And so are the words of God, Christ, and the Apostles. The Bible is an ocean from a puddle. By this I mean not to say that the book itself is inconsequential, not that too much has been made of this book, or any other connotation being negative, but rather that from something small comes something larger; from a word:meaning; from a book of His words:endless meaning. It is like the parable of the mustard seed: It is like a grain of mustard seed, which a man took, and cast into his garden; and it grew, and waxed a great tree; and the fowls of the air lodged in the branches of it.- Luke 13:18-19"
So that in any word there is multiple meanings, and in any passage there is a power of meanings. This is why it is said: "11The words of the wise are like goads, their collected sayings like firmly embedded nails—given by one Shepherd. 12Be warned, my son, of anything in addition to them.Of making many books there is no end, and much study wearies the body. -Ecclesiastes 12:11-12"
I shall end with this final train of thought: From the word of God came creation in its entirety: from the smallest to the largest, from the seen to the unseen. The world we see is large froom where we look, and small in comparison to the depth of the universe, and still we do not see the completeness of His word, of His work, and yet, we are swimming in it.

Creation of Man

O.k., today I will keep my post short. I have recently, and inexplicably, been thinking about the sistine chapel's frescos- most notably the "creation of man" panel. After studying it lightly I have come to two conclusions: 1) Adam has his eyes fixed on God and his face along with his upper body, show a concerted effort to look to God, but his arm is limp; half-heartedly reaching for God. Also his body is in a position that not only leans slightly away, but gives the impression of turning away. 2) God is not only reaching for Adam, but is stretching and leaning towards Adam. I find this relationship to hold true today, or perhaps I see this relationship because it exists today.

On a side note, and not to be downer, all sins can be forgiven- except one.

what it is.

Some people read horoscopes to help guide them through their lives, I do occasionally do this, but I prefer the word of the day- it has always seemed more appropriate to me. It is often an accurate description of me on that day or a feeling, attitude, or personal trait that seems prevalent at the moment. I had, at one point, showed how a story can be derived from connecting one day's word to the next, but, being honest and not remembering the story, it was probably an accurate description of me that month.

According to my monthly horoscope, I have nothing but good things ahead of me this month. I am a virgo, in case you were wondering. Most all descriptions I have seen of Virgos seem to be accurate. I really have nothing to say today, but I tried. It seems I'm really just waiting for something good to happen- I'm not really patient. I wait because I'm not really sure what it is that I want at this moment, I have set out goals to work towards and the things that I want in the future, but as for the moment, things seem uncomfortable- a notion I am very familiar with- and I just toss and turn looking for that "spot."

I always feel different; out of touch and awkward in any situation- like I don't really belong anywhere. That is probably the hardest thing to deal with. I can adjust to any situation to alleviate the discomfort I may cause others, and try to not to disturb the balance or apply a negative vibe. anyway... it is what it is and the line between wish and want- that from dusk to dawn, is wide and black, and then gray at the edges.

Random Learning

I was riding in a car on Centerline road drifting across thoughts as the car whirred by the knee-high corn (we are coming up on 4 july), I suddenly remembered a small snippet of a dust cover review of Dostoevsky's "The Idiot." The review spoke of how the writer takes you on a remarkable journey following a "holy fool" and how he impacts the people he comes in contact with. i quickly thought about the way that I write- often dealing more with ideologies and the foundations of this world, rather than with the interactions that occur within. i would be the first to say that this world is full of traps, yet isn't one of itself (though, perhaps it is the most elaborately cultivated trap of all). However, I would say that it is a cage- the bars of which are ever unseen by the masses. With this realization about my writing it should be easier to move forward, not forgetting that human interaction is the basis of each persons day whether it be abundant, or lacking; and that each of us affects those we come in contact with, and they us.

Oh the random processes of the mind: learning in motion

This weekend is Comfest here in Columbus. A brief note on last night's festivities. It was crazy ridiculous. My phone didn't really work except to show me text messages and inform that I had voicemails. I couldn't call my voicemail to retrieve the messages- but I was able to do that today. Kelly, in 4 consecutive messages, displayed a progression of emotion from one to the next (thus verifying my rule #3: Never separate in a crowd. EVER.
We will be going back for day 2 today and I'm sure to post more on the festivities tomorrow (if I'm functional)

before the deluge

I had a thought last night, as I often do, before going to sleep. Now let us see if we can't summon up the line of logic and thought processes of that. I did have another night of crazy dreams though.
I believe it started with the notion of understanding a person based on the experiences of their life- environmental conditioning. To accept, or understand, the way a person is does not, necessarily, require one to know the "why" behind the way they act, but rather to merely to understand the way they operate based upon the ever growing decisions and actions that you see them make. Furthermore, the understanding of past events is not required to help a person change. So I said to myself, "The why of a person is negligible. All you need is current facts and a view of what is to be changed- however this requires a keen objective eye."
And so goes the world, as people do. It isn't required to know how the world came to be in the position it finds itself now, we merely need to understand the way it is, and the way we should want it. Then we are capable of plotting a course based on the current position to the desired location.
It was nice to have a clear train of thought that actually seems relevant.

Things can be fuzzy

In the time since the relocation I have been keeping busy despite not having found a job. To be quite truthful, it has been kind of a blur, reminding me of why people seem to think life is so short.

Last weekend TJaye and I traveled to West Virginia. It was the overdue retirement party for his grandfather (overdue in that nobody should work until they are eighty). It was held at the local American Legion, of which a membership is now on the "must do" list. After the legion, and legions of drinks on our side, we managed to find a bar catering to the karaoke crowd- who had the unfortunate displeasure of having to hear me shred "Africa" by Toto. unfortunate doesn't quite cover it. We had been out with TJaye's aunt, who herself can be considered a party. She has a cabin on a ridge complete with alcohol and hottub. The next day we went to visit an old friend of TJayes near Stubenville (I believe I have met people from this place). Joel was an interesting specimen who seems to have his "joi de vie (spelling?)" dialed up all the time. All in all the trip was enjoyable, enlightening, and relaxing, but Sunday was time to return to Columbus for Volleyball and beer.

Yesterday was a pool party hosted by Pinky at her grandfather's house. It was a good time, until the part I wish to not disclose. It wasn't pretty. It never is. and it is a reminder of what to not do- if you can remember how it occured in the first place. So today will be applying for more jobs (I've applied for 2 already today) but these next applications require me to leave the house.

I did have some crazy dreams last night- my car was totaled sitting by the curb- there were codes embedded in colored strings that when arranged in a particular way allowed for some sort of time/space travel. along those same lines were some batteries (appearance) that were made of thin metallic plates, again each with some sort of code, and when arranged in a certain manner created a method for flight, the object would spin slowly and hover, the only trick was to be able to produce it on a larger scale.

Closer to Asia?

They made me wait all day for a 5 minute interview. Granted, there were donuts and pizza- and the starbucks people are amazing (a pound of coffee and 4 refills)! Now I feel restless. I just returned from a drive around the city I won't miss, listening to Doves as the city slipped into the rain. There wasn't anyone there to share, at least, no one to be seen. It would have been nice to go out as I've become accustomed to doing and nicer still to not battle myself a little, but the worries of this mind dwindle even now, like the last of the seeds released from a fluffy white dandelion to form a mock snow.

So I handed in my badge shortly after saying goodbyes, and then thought about searching for future employ, but decided that packing provided a much needed joy to match the rays of the sun shining into my 99 degree room. I am divided in two, as always I am, and wonder upon the control/fate/power issues I have and with the decidedly negative view in which I hold them. It appears, almost, that I have relinquished my ability to view a course in navigation and foresee the next point- perhaps lost in the Mariana trench, though why I would be so close to Asia I have no idea... It could have been quicker to dig there.

It's a zoo in here

freedom: The capacity to exercise choice; free will:

I currently have a plethora of ideas and emotions to which I am being subjected, and have found their presence to be mostly a nuissance, like a crowded zoo- all I want to do is enjoy the sights, but the crowd ruins the moment. I can't seem to identify any real thoughts, just random fragments, and to me that is the most confusing of all- the crowd has no common flow or direction, but swirls around and mixes. I don't really know what to say, or what to talk about, as there are many foreign objects floating about, wasted mindspace I suppose. So I will not regail you with the story of a man who reaches beyond the current bounds of human knowledge to see clearly two worlds, or the man who travels a vortex of light, I cannot write on the state of my emotional well-being, or come up with witty retorts, or functionally fun, off-beat advertisements for common things.

I will say this in regards to the definition above: is it not obvious, that the limitations of a man's ability to choose is also a limitation of his freedom?

Then I pose this question: Imagine the world in perfection- what do you see? How does it function? and then can you see the flaws you have created?

Funny, how I keep writing with nothing more to say- I imagine it is more like the man passed out on driftwood who manages to float to shore.
I go through phases with my writing. Not in style, sometimes in content. The phases are not how I approach my writing, but altogether how I view the meaning or futility of my words. What can a man say that has not been said already? What does reitterating a point achieve if it has not been absorbed after the first hundred tries? So occassionaly, when I reach the point where my work is seen as absolute futility, I burn it, or throw it away until I reach that point when I become so consumed by an idea that I must write for fear of being consumed by my own ideas. I can beat back the urge to write for some time - I have been trained to handle mental anguish like the SEALs have been trained to handle physical pain- but everybody breaks at some point, all we can do is grab hold of the driftwood and hope.

Ideas of mind/ a soft appearance

I was driving around today. It is one of my favorite ways to think. And I drifted into some excerpts from "The Republic" by Cicero. I thought of how quickly I became disinterested with the read- this was two-fold: the names (always horrible to pronoune); and the ideas. I am an immense fan of reading theoretical, philosophical, or historical works- I am not too fond of fiction as it is either for entertainment (I find television to be adequate), or to deliver some sort of message which requires derivation- yes the puzzle would entertain me until the moment I discovered it and realized that it is nothing new, just brought about in a different way (again, this returns to the post on decadence and the stagnant society). But the reason I became so disinterested with Cicero, and the feeling seemed to spread as ivy, is that I did not come across an idea I have not heard, read, or had myself. And as I thought of the things I have read- they not being many- I came to the conclusion that the only real purpose any of them served was to give definite verbage to the ideas I've had all along (I'm pretty sure Emerson wrote something about this, but I do not emote as he suggested). So I think, and tend to always overthink things. But that is what I do with the understanding of the "pie" philosophy (all things being considered a pie, and each given his slice- slice being perspective), I try to view as much of the pie as possible before arriving at a decision.

So you can't make everyone happy with the decisions you make. Moreover (and I know it has been said), if you are making everyone happy, then the decision you make cannot possibly be correct. So how does someone live after accepting their mortality? Should they live differently than before? or continue along being mostly the same? The question of mortality is almost fun for me (morbid, I know). I contemplate my mortality (with fear of its absence) daily. I often envision being t-boned as I drive through an intersection, but am more convinced that I will be diagnosed with lymphoma in its late stages (of course, I would keep that secret to myself, as I am not one who enjoys the light of pity).

So I heard someone say they hope that the President can change the country and make our lives better (oh, the things people say can often trigger me into thought). When did we become so dependant on others for our happiness? Why must we wait for the government to change our condition? Have we truly lost all power to better our own situation? I fear that we have become so complacent, so fearful of making decisions for ourselves that we would gladly give up our power, our rights, to another. I suppose, though, that we are all sheep looking for a shepherd. But enough politics.

It is only 7-9 days until I move. word. I began to move some personal effects into my new abode this past weekend. I am truly excited. Kelly, I'm sorry I didn't hang around Monday night. I hope you understand (narcissists unite!). All in all it was a comfortable weekend. I was able to play some poker, some volleyball, and sit in the dark (literally, not metaphorically). The power was out upon my arrival at the house. I was able to get a key made, catch up on some news, buy a car charger for my now broken phone (sweet), bowl, catch a movie, and make a note.

I have often been fond of making a soft appearance, that is to say that I like to arrive without warning, and appear as if out of thin air (it adds to my mystique..ha). But the soft appearance plants a seed in the subconscious of people to whom I perform such magical feats. It serves as a sign that I am always there (certainly, saying it may work, but for some reason always seems to be only words to some), that you may never know when I'll arrive, but that it could be at any moment. I like that notion. I like believing that other people know that.

looking up.

**This was written nearly a week ago and shelved, but after a mild debate, I have decided to post it.

It has been a few days since I've really had anything to say, and though I sit here with a mind full of ideas, fears, hopes, I still find it difficult to express this bundle of emotion. I wish for things to be simple- for black and white to be the rule- but it isn't that way at all. I did think yesterday that one can manipulate the rule of law by simply controlling the evolution of a language, but in retrospect this would take a rather large group of people a rather long time. The limits of words are defined only by their use, which is ever-evolving, and the determination of which defination to be used is almost always contrived from the context and tone in which it is spoken- since, written word can only address one of these (though story-telling can address both) and therein lies the problem.

I have frequently thought of myself as an outsider. I can say with modest shame that I have never really felt as though I belonged anywhere my feet stood, nor in the company of others I've called friends. I merely arrive at some level of comfort with the places and people, so that the discomfort of not belonging only tinges like white-noise (though, for me, that is as bad as nails on a chalkboard, or the high pitched hum from a t.v.). I have learned to live in discomfort, learned to live with the aching misery that has accompanied me since the last time I was happy (I cannot clearly remember that time). So, when the shimmer of a long forgotten feeling catches the eye of the wearied traveler, quickly he becomes filled with hope and forgets his misery. But, lucky for him, there are people around to remind him of the tinged satchel slung over his shoulder- but for comfort he does not lay it down, if only because he hasn't reached the spot of shimmering hope. Perhaps he thinks that shimmer is just the leprechaun's pot of gold to disappear at the last moment, or he is just used to the satchel on his back , maybe he has become dependant on it. (yikes!) Either way, the hope that lingers in my eye is mine to spark into a fire or douse with water. Thank you, my friends, for your warm concern for my future, but the language you speak is farsi to me, and I won't concern myself with learning that language.

Amazing how those who say things happen for a reason are always the quickest to tell you you're making a mistake, when all you're really doing is putting your trust in a higher power.

Space and Tomorrow

I was going to write about the decline of the space program- this being the day the final shuttle mission was launched to repair the Hubble Space Telescope- but I shall instead go off script. No stories of how I won a third-grade essay contest on the future of space flight, no gleaming memories from my trip to Cape Canaveral, no lengthy speeches on the accomplishment of putting a man on the moon (which, unfortunately, means no Andy Kauffman references).

So this weekend was mother's day, a horrible day to break such news, and even more horrible when you know you have to hold it in, when all you want to do is let it loose. I am not a fan of creating chaos for others, but deal well with it myself. I attribute this to my ability to uptake multiple sources of information at the same time, process, and conclude in a fashion that does three things: makes sense in the scheme of things; makes some sort of progress; and maintains flow (I call this flow functionality).

As you may already know, I am moving! Yay! But until today my parents had yet to know that I was moving, or that it was occuring on such a short schedule, and without a job. Does any good conversation ever begin with, "I need to talk to you about something?" I suppose it depends, like all things, on perspective. It was like watching a pond frost over- when the shock set in- and I could sense some pain. All they could really muster was,"well, I guess you know what you're doing."

I don't know. For me, that is the most difficult thing imaginable. I am of the kind that needs facts, statistics, as much information as possible before I make a decision. It is here that I have cast aside the weight of thought and stand clutching that of hope. I will tell you it is somehow lighter. Either because I believe things will be better, or simply because I have someone who is there for me- she also believes things will be better for me (Thanks Belle!)

I didn't stay for long, as it was getting late and the season finale of House was on (I'm getting ready to watch the recorded version now). So, I suppose, as when we first watched the space shuttles cause the earth to tremble below plooms of white smoke, and arc up over the Atlantic Ocean heading into the unknown; when we were filled with the excitement of all possibility, so too do I sit here, typing to you about the same wonder and excitement that seems to have faded in our waxing years, but is now being replenished as a storied fleet is retired.

The Great Escape

With all the concern over the year 2012 approaching (thank you Mayans), and the ever growing social and political problems that have risen to the surface in recent years, I have decided that today I will attempt to reflect and prognosticate a bit.

Social Evolution-1. the gradual development of society and social forms, institutions, etc., usually through a series of peaceful stages.

Decadence-1. the act or process of falling into an inferior condition or state; deterioration; decay. 2. moral degeneration or decay; turpitude.
3. unrestrained or excessive self-indulgence.

Revolution-1. an overthrow or repudiation and the thorough replacement of an established government or political system by the people governed.
2. Sociology. a radical and pervasive change in society and the social structure, esp. one made suddenly and often accompanied by violence.

I love to begin with definitions. They always provide a clearer understanding of where to begin. So, to begin by assigning proper order to the definitions though, really, it is a matter of opinion (a chicken or egg proposition).

Social evolution occurs just as biological evolution, though on a more rapid basis. It is the idea and implementation of progress in a society. As ideas change, as the knowledge of a society changes, as its morals change, so too does a society. As stated in the definition, these changes are often peaceful, but there is the occassional violent upheaval- a coup. Not mentioned often enough is the role that art plays in such evolution. Art is always a good indicator of the status of a society. It seems that even before the society changes, the art movement has changed.

But today we are in a state of decadence, of decay, of idleness. Often can be heard someone asking, "where do we go from here?" It is easy enough to say that we have accomplished about all that can be done in the way of technology, all we seem to do now is to make it faster and more available to the masses, which in turn increases knowledge and idleness. It is argued that our sense of entitlement and self-indulgance is what lead us to this current economic crisis to begin with (just a sign of a decadent society). Sure, there are new art movements, new music trends, but if you look at them (listen to them), if you study them you can only come to the conclusion that they are only mixtures of past ideas and movements- What goes around comes back around again. We are recycling old ideas because we have found none that work effectively enough for us. And so we wait for the next step in social evolution.

Unfortunately, we have reached a rung (seemingly) in this round of social evolution in which the path we have chosen seems to have reached its limit. It is the farthest we can travel for the road we're on. The only way to fix it, to allow a society to continue on is revolution. I am NOT promoting violence, that is not my aim. My aim is, however, to point out where things are, in my view, heading- its like watching a horse run towards a cliff. It will come swiftly, and have the force of a volcanic eruption, because while we have been idle in decadence, the pressure has been mounting. One day a man/woman will wake up and say to himself, "this is ridiculous. I need to do something." and then it will begin. It will spread like a tsunami, and burn like the wildfires of California. Perhaps it has already begun.

Well, I have not met my expectations with this piece, but the thought process is more fluid than before, and more to my liking. But if it reads like diahrrea of the mouth, I apologize.

joys and burdens of being lit

Bonus post (because I need to clean my mirror)!

So in the calm moments before going to sleep I often catch phrases like people count sheep. The sun in all its glory, and the moon were my thought about a week ago. The habit of writing these down is as the whim of the wind (though I believe the wind has no whim, but arrives precisely where it should, when it should), though I suppose this makes my habit no habit at all.

Surely the joy of the sun is in the knowledge that it always shines-
always seeks to provide though it may be hindered by the clouds-
what burden it must be also, to always be on-
to be at risk of being taken for granted, but how much more the moon!
To always be on and less dim, less likely to be noticed, and when sky is
shared: noticed even less.
But the secret is this: to know that its light is the sun's-
standing only as a reflection- a rock in orbit cascading light-
for which it can only be grateful.

Coincidence seems to be the theme of the day. They are my favorite days

Solve et Coagula

The title phrase is latin and means: Separate, and Put together and is associated with Alchemy, which is the art of transformation.
It is both a philosophy and a practice with an aim of achieving ultimate wisdom as well as immortality, involving the improvement of the alchemist as well as the making of several substances described as possessing unusual properties.

This is what I read about at work today. I don't know why it popped into my head. Again I had been meditating on the relavent aspects of thermodynamics/fluid dynamics and life.

The most well known goal of alchemists was the transmutation of common metals into gold or silver; the creation of a "panacea", or the elixir of life, a remedy that supposedly would cure all diseases and prolong life indefinitely; and the discovery of a universal solvent.
I became particularly interested when glancing at the notes for the Magnum Opus (mystic interpretation of its three stages)
those being:

nigredo, blackening: individuation, purification,burnout of impurity

this being the section of the process designed to create awareness of shortcomings. the things we need to work on. It is here that we begin to understand that which hinders our personal growth and the achievement of enlightment (self-knowledge and outer-knowledge)
albedo, whitening: spiritualisation, enlightenment
the section where the increase in knowledge and self awareness are fulfilled, without the hinderance of impurity.
rubedo, reddening: unification of man with god, unification of the limited with the unlimited.
once we are enlightened and can see all things clearly, we can see what was once limited can now be considered limitless... the possibilites of the body, mind, and soul, reach farther can a man can imagine, as his imagination is limited by his mind, frought with impurity and the perceived limitations of the world we see. Sometimes I wonder what the sparkles are, and then just give up the mental exercise to enjoy their dance. I often see them as dancing the way an atom may, but really their movement is fluid and awkward- and maintains a certain connectivity- lacking randomness (sort of like watching a balloon over a fan turned upwards).

I should apologize for the fragmentedness of the post, but I think it best to leave it as-is. I am having difficulty with correlations lately, perhaps as a punishment for trying to force it rather than letting the natural flow of though occur.

Look forward to the next post, which should be a bit more eloquent, involving the social evolution of decadence and revolution (and of course their association to an individual life.

A bridge to happiness.

I have thought about this post for nearly three days, and always come up empty in relating the ideas of thermodynamics and life. So I looked to Fluid dynamics only to find the same thing. So they must be saved for another day.

Today, I shall keep to being a minimalist- something I desperately need work on. I have a tendency to overcomplicate issues, followed by the overwhelming feeling of not having a vocabulary deep enough, or wide enough, to complement the sentiments needing to be conveyed. So I wish to keep it simple, to build the bridge one step a time across the river of my lacking.

I spent most of the day in an anxious fervor. I was excited that I had a variety of work items to keep me just busy enough to not feel stressed, and to not notice the time pass. So when the maintenance man came to repair the ballasts of the light fixture above my cubicle, it was already time to kindly give notice of my impending departure.

I was surprised to hear a slight chord of envy as I relinquished the words I had stored in my chest all day, "I will be leaving at the end of the month." I have chosen May 27 for no other reason than to say it appeared as the proper day as I glared at my calendar. It allows me enough time to train others on my secondary responsibilities, or allows others the time to find replacements for my duties. I took the Tuesday before as a vacation day, and that Monday is memorial day.

I am excited to have impending change in my life, and it comes in at just under 3 years- funny how the phases of my life seem to work according to this schedule; my only hope is that I am not a slave to it.

Last night was the beginning of organizing my assorted collection of things I'm unattached to. I am not attached to many of my posessions- I'm happy to have never placed happiness into the bucket containing material posession. Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy having nice things (though I have none), but I much prefer to think and learn- perhaps now I may be equipped enough to do.

Go out into the world, do good, and be happy. yes, that would be nice.

The O's pt 3 (epiphany)

What good is a thought or realization that does not spur one to action? None (that's right). Personal growth occurs without thought and without effort on a daily basis, but in this manner it is very slow. The epiphany that causes action, however, can cause the most dramatic changes in a person. This is where I am at. I currently reside in the transition from epiphany to action. Here lies reflection. I have reflected upon myself: where I have been, what I have done, why I have done it, what was good, what was bad, and where and how do I want to be (what should my future hold). Is it painful... no, but should the lessons there be forgotten it could be.
I want to be happy. I want to chase it like the bubbles I blew when I was a child. It has been so long since I have meditated on being happy, but have devoted my choices to the things people thought were best for me. Now, at nearly thirty, I have decided to merely take the suggestions and weigh them against the idea of happiness. I went to a college not of my choice, and because that is what people do-I was miserable; I joined the miliatary because I saw how happy it would make those around me-I was miserable; I took the first job I could get- I was a bit happier because I enjoyed spending time with the people I worked with (friends) and we didn't worry about life, but rather being happy; I took another job for more money- I was miserable; I took another job for more money and to be closer to home- some of the misery lifted, but still I was mostly unfulfilled; And now I am here- happier than I have been in the longest time, and I can only see it getting better.
For this happiness, I owe a single person: Kelly. Thank you, thank you, merci, thank you, Kelly!
She has helped me to understand a process, a basic idea, and now I believe that I actually believe that I deserve something better. Working for a goal has never been a problem, it has been the goal (or lack thereof). I have felt more true emotion in the past two weeks... I am truly amazed! Joy, contentment, anger, frustration, sadness, love, jealousy... all those wonderful little intangibles that make life worth living. Thank you, Kelly.
So, I have been invited to move to the O's, a place where I can see myself being happy, surrounding myself with people who's company I enjoy- who make me happy and help me to think of the things I want. I know that the task is difficult in the current climate of the world, but I am astounded at even my own blindness to the difficulty of the task. True, there may be a wall, but I don't see it. Which leaves two outcomes, either I collide with the wall only to realize its existence, or crash through it, only to look back at what I have done... I am confident in my ability to overcome- I find myself to be a tremendous and honest judge of my capabilites, and this I can do.
Kelly, I will not surrender to life as before and succomb to its bitterness, but seize it with a firm grip and smile, for this is how happiness is attained and maintained, and I have you to thank.

The O's pt 2 (a dying breed)

What secret so bold could cause a thing no more-
a smile adored, or a breeze against a door left
slightly ajar in spring to breathe in the cherry-
blossom sea dotted with tulips?

Believe it or not, but constantly and without hesitation, as each moment passes- as we grow- so too do we die some. The idea of opposing forces, light and dark, yin and yang, do not merely oppose, and do not require a struggle, but are also meant as compliments to each other... like orange and blue, oddly correct when put together. It also goes to say that you cannot have one without the other, or better, that one cannot truly be appreciated without the other- the product is scope and magnitude.

Saturday, I drove Kelly to work, and returned to the house. I cleaned, at a bit of food, watched a movie (not having seen Quantum of Solace, it was a must)- I tried anything to pass the time, but slowly it passed, and certainly not because of my willing it forward. It was a beautiful day, so I laid out to pass some more time and soak up some vitamin D- funny how such days seem less enjoyable when it isn't being shared.

I picked Kelly up and, to be perfectly honest, I cannot remember what we did. I can remember, with vivid detail, the events of my solitude but, for our time together, the images are bits and pieces, but the feelings, rampant and enduring even to this day, are what I remember. I do remember how beautiful she was, and how even she was having difficulty in deciding a path- I suggested the cause of such deliberation can be attributed to Saturn return (or so I've heard). I remember that we grew some- and certainly I have further to go- and we talked. When we talk, we skirt the issue while attacking it directly, because, I think, we both want to know so many things at once, that the only way to understand or to evolve a question is through vagueness and metaphor- we do this well together, so much so that I sometimes deem words to be unnecessary, nods of the head, smiles, and glances may be all we need.

A dying breed is dying long before notice is taken, and perhaps, if that breed is lucky, it will find help in transitioning to the next life. As a clock unwinds and the hands slow, the spring loosens and the tension melts until it stops and ceases to be dependant on the time it kept (I wish I knew what this last part was, or how it ends)

Her decisions are difficult and I do not envy the choice she must make, but I am grateful for the days we spend entwined (physically and emotionally). I felt my chest hurt this weekend, and now too, as I think about the distance that I'm trying to solve. I have also discovered that having goals can rouse my anger when confronted with a barrier, it has also awakened my determination- a trait I am fond of and have missed for sometime- I hope it serves me well, for I know that these are volitile traits that can turn against a man and be his undoing. I have help, and she may be my grace.

The O's pt 1 (the foreword)

It is amazing how 3 hours can make a place feel a liftetime and another world away, and yet instill the comfort of a warm blanket. It had only been a week since my last visit, and the fog of uncertainty was becoming more translucent through a week's worth of in-depth questions and mirror to grave thinking
(mirror to grave: the time it takes for a person to go from the immediate moment to death), self reflection, and the ever needed process of self realization and goal building.
When I was in third grade, I remember sitting in art class with a teacher who was unusually forthcoming with a problem of hers. She had been extremely depressed for the longest time and had begun seeing a therapist. The problem was diagnosed to be that my teacher had reached all of the goals she had set for herself, and was now stuck in the proverbial rut, with nothing to work for, no motivation. Perhaps I know that rut all too well. But I do find it amusing to see how the things from our past become more prevalent while looking in the mirror.
So, being more clear of the things that I want out of life, and trying to forget the perilous ways of the shortsighted, I arrived in Columbus, eager to move forward- to test the water of an ocean to see if it was to my liking, and also me to it (these things are a two way street).
I felt awkward at first, tongue tied, so I began my weekend with two shots of Jameson's and two Tanq n' Tonics. I know that drinking is never the answer, but that sometimes it is also not a bad idea for anyone who is wound as tight as I (finding it nearly impossible to express personal thoughts/feelings in a face-to-face situation). Discussions, the back and forth, questions upon questions, relaxing together, holding each other- it was really a wonderful experience, and trying to overcome the self depricating/loathing/I don't deserve anything good mentality is going to be difficult, but the help available eases my worry and lightens my soul.
Kelly is wonderful, and she thrives in her environment despite previous qualms with other cities- Columbus fits her. I aspire to have the same, to be completely comfortable in my skin in a town, to feel at ease and have things to do; to have things that excite my creative nature and allow me to grow. With her help (perhaps forcibly) I am discovering the reasons of my dissatisfaction and with this knowledge it will be/is possible to change my condition. I look forward to happier days, happier nights, and a healthier me.

And today, there's no gas. more to come..

Scribbles and sounds

I haven't written very frequently lately, either because I lack motivation or inspiration.. I can do always do random, but that tends to read like phoenician or egyptian; it might as well by hyroglyphs or crows feet (sumarian?) I like to write and be elegant and fluid, for thoughts and words to flow the way nature does- though you may be surprised by the transitions nature can present, it is altogether logical, smooth, precise, and ultimately grand and seemless.
I am fond of grand ideas, but I leave those to men of grand action- those who posess the fortitude to see them through. I am more fond of correlations and symmetry and the peculiar (i.e. I read today that Einstein's brain size was actually smaller than average- though his parietal lobes were 15% wider possesed a rare pattern of ridges and grooves; also he had a knob in his motor cortex most often associated with musical aptitude).
So... the world is on fire, consumed by a fever, it has been set ablaze. To sit and watch it burn provides no satisfaction. Everyone works and quarrels to uncover the one(s) to have set the spark, or doused us in accelerant. But no one runs for water. There are no buckets at the ready, and the brigade squabbles over promotions in front of the Supreme Court. Crazy how in but a few years everything changes- though we seem to be consumed by ourselves all the same, its amazing that with so many people being so confident that they predicted the current crises, no one manged to complete a plan of action for when it hit.

Trend Analysis and the common bonds

Frequently when faced with a blank mind and a busy world-when days stroll into each other- I like to apply the fine technique of trend analysis to random things, seeking out patterns and meaning (it is everywhere); and now you know my secret shame.
I receive a word of the day, every day, and these are often full of hidden trends, though it would seem they are not meant to be, as they should be randomly chosen.
So here is a short list of previous words of the day- in order, beginning with April 1, 2009 (as a trend analysis i have inserted a link between the words/meaning (I did not attempt to include verb tense; please edit as needed).

jape: a trick or practical joke.
(causing one)
gambol: to dance and skip about in play.
(:as the writer's)
longueur: a tedious passage in a work of literature or performance art.
(meant)
flummox: to confuse; to perplex.
(by using)
grandiloquent: expressed in a lofty style; pompous; bombastic.
(serving as)
aegis: a shield; protection.
(of/from his)
nescience: lack of knowledge or awareness.
(though, perhaps, it was)
chimerical: merely imaginary; fanciful.
(for him to)
impugn: to call in question; to make insinuations against.
frisson: a brief moment of intense excitement.
portend: to foreshadow; to bode.
pulchritude: beauty.
(=)
susurrus: a whispering or rustling sound.
(like the wind:)
labile: open to change; apt or likely to change.
(;)
outré: unconventional; eccentric; bizarre.
(a thought that)
etiolate: to blanch or bleach; to make sickly.
(which was)
ephemeral: lasting a very short time.
(but a peak into)
quiddity: the essence or nature of a thing.
(but altogether)
crepuscular: pertaining to twilight.
(and a)
stormy petrel: one who brings discord or strife, or appears at the onset of trouble
(with his)
Pecadillo: a slight offense; a petty fault

making it up...

Name... o.k. we'll go with Thomas.. Williams,
why... because I got to, mister...
The sound was something like a goose choking, or wildly wielding the melody to Peter and the wolf. The kid who lived next door to Thomas Williams reminded him of himself at that age: annoying, loud, and pithy. The clarinet is not something to be practiced outdoors, nor is the trumpet, but there the two sat, like Miles Davis and Benny Goodman. The neighbors walking dogs and strolling children would cringe as their feet moved into a frenzied pace, just long enough to escape the distorted jazz. It was like John Coltrane's "Ascension," but without the brilliance. But for the child and Thomas, it wasn't about making good music. No. It was about making a noise, a collaborative noise, that would cause others to stand up and take notice, or notice enough to move faster, but, nonetheless, take notice. Each had their own deep-seeded reasons. I'm sure Freud would say it was something to do with sex, others would blame the mothers, and others would say...well, they would say something, that is what shrinks are paid to do.

Moderations

It is apparent, having a sober glimpse at my previous two entries, that there may be a serious malfunction with my edit button while drinking. But what has been said has been said, and regret or remorse can be expressed to any parties that may have taken offense (I am sorry, whether you believe it or not- not for what was said, as no one should ever apologize for such expressions, but rather the manner in which they were expressed and the harm they may have caused.)

I have been told I have a tendency to recoil. This is true. I would love to not be this way, but when you see as I see, and logic the way I logic, this is how it comes about: I may have something to offer, but to those I would like to offer I would appreciate (and nearly demand) a certain level of social protocol be maintained. Violation of such protocols are taken to mean a minimal level of (not respect)caring is absent... how should I confide, or share, with someone who doesn't care? So communication becomes distorted... and since I have nobody to really confide, or share, with/in I must withdraw and either confront the problems alone, or find a space in that very crowded closet of mine- either of which takes a tremendous amount of time, emotional stress, and creates a burden on my soul.

As far as social interractions go... I only need someone to alleviate the demand I place on myself in private, in the solitude of my mind- here in my thought cathedral. It is much akin to the way people go to the movies, seeking distractions from their problems. Having someone to share the time with allows me to remove focus from myself and place it on another- to give attention to them (I do adore this), but... who really needs/wants to have me around in this capacity? Surely if I were not me, and saw this person, I would shun him too.

I understand a person's want/need to feel wanted/needed. And that sometimes people like to be chased... it may be that I'm just that jaded, but I would, and have always, preferred things to be simple. I call you- if I leave a message, you call me back. It is simple things that form foundations- curtains and lamps and coffee tables are always the last things when building a house.

I have always maintained the strictest rules on helping others... it goes like this:
If you ask for something, or something of me, it must meet these criteria:
1. I must be capable
2. It must be reasonable (ambiguous I know, but chances are, if you ask, its probably reasonable).
3. I prefer it to be legal.
If these criteria are satisfied, I really can't say no.
Questions.. I don't like open ended questions... this only stems from my lack of social interaction- I don't understand the question, am unsure of what is considered an adequate response. I don't really have any secrets (other than those two things that shall go unmentioned forevermore), so any question presented to me will be answered- though my nature is to give the simplest answer possible; I know this causes grief to those wishing to know more about me, but continue to ask questions and I shall continue to have answers. The only caveat to this is that if a question makes me uncomfortable, as in it pertains to the two unmentionables, then I may not answer.

I don't know. What I do know is that I'm recoiling, and giving up alcohol- drunk is not a pretty mood on me. I have never been a wordsmith, and when personal things are being expressed it is often a painful cluttered mess (I imagine a wall feels the same way)- confusing- even I'm confused. Must I be a social leper? I can only be me, even if I can't see the lesions.

the brighter side...

I don't know where to start, so I shall just begin.
I don't trust people. Recently I disclosed two pieces of information that I have never (and will never again) disclosed to any other person. And while I do not hold the person responsible for their adequate response, nonetheless, the communication has all but ceased. This is what I get for opening up.
You get what you give, and I am unwilling to give of my inner-self any more. I have absolutely no qualms with giving of my time, support, empathy, love to another person, but I will never tear down my walls-I am not Gorbachev.
I shall share with you (whoever you are) this piece of information (never before revealed, but only because I am positive of the three people who may read this):
After 8pm on any given day, I am suicidal. I wish with feverish anticipation that this life should end, but I can't take it- though I know many ways. This may be why I enjoy being with others... it dulls the pain of an existence that is otherwise meaningless... the meaning is in helping others- in caring for others. Despite your belief, this does not require opening up.
I am in constant need of a good friend, but they are more rare than diamonds, and harder to find than a needle in a haystack.. and when I seem to find one... it is only an illusion. For my finale I will transpose the first page of my journal entry, something I have never considered...

How deep does this evil run? The days are long and each consumes me in its own way. A weight, perhaps not mine to carry, is upon my shoulders. My neck is tight- perhaps a sign of my unwilingness to change.
At night I'm left to my thoughts, and rarely is it an uplifting event. I struggle to go to sleep, and then it is often interrupted by dreams that do not comfort (there is little to go around). I do find so little comfort these days.
I awake groggy and stiff, casting off what I believe to be right with the sheets of my bed.
Why are the things I want to do, the last I would think to do? How deep does this evil run, that I cannot bend my ways. I know that heaaven exists- and that makes the days all the harder to bear. I know a piece of the truth, of its sweetness, and all I want is more. (end journal entry)
All I can say is, "whatever," and "f-off, nobody should ever make me feel like this."
but then... I'm sure I'm deserving of all I receive- except the good.
I don't even deserve that.

seriously??

I title my blog entries before I even type... so this one has me shaking my head before even I begin. I am not a very open person, but effort is valued (I am unsure why). I keep nearly everything inside with the greatest of ease, and to cause this well to bubble over may be more difficult than the analogy. I am loved by a few people, and sometimes wish to give it. But it is those times at which I feel I may wish to give it, I... (dramatic effect) I hesitate.
And because of this, or partly due to the short attention span and "now" mentality, people withdraw from me as quickly as they came. Oh, they can be so excited initially, and there excitement excites me to the point where I nearly unleash... so close, but always so reserved. And though I may pine inside, and my face remain stone-carved as effigy- I go on with the toil of light and dark, through day and night. My place is my place, though I may never understand it, and the things I may wish for could be the very things I am never meant for.
In matters of the heart I will always be patient-be sure- because what is bound is bound, and I may hold that more sacred... more tight than my own life.

What is in name?

In a reflection, or musing, I contemplated names: meaning, purpose, and perception.
A name, first and foremost, is a title and typically one of the first things about a person we learn. In biblical times, names were chosen, typically, as a thanks to God, expressing a triumph of sorts (this is why many biblical names refer to God). Today names are chosen more through the steady application of a specific criteria: vanity. Of course thought is still given to meaning, but the emphasis is on originality and sound.
But upon the perception of a name: not of others on the person, but of the named and the namers. Growing up, as many of us did, I often expelled contempt for my name and wished to live by another. I believe that this is tied into the general rebellious nature of children against their parents. The name is, or was, a symbol of what the parents hoped for in their child, and rebellion was against that hope, against the feeling of being forced into a box that is uncomfortable to the one stuffed inside. So when anyone wants to change their name, it is not necessarily the image they wish to change, but the deep seeded hope for their own life that they wish to express.
I came upon this while pondering over my pen name, the one you see on the side of my profile, RS Althaus. It is a vanity, the "RS," chosen specifically to draw out the question, "what does it stand for?" But I will tell you, and I will tell you the meaning, thus divulging the hope I have for my own life.

Rema Sterling Althaus (faithful little star from the old house).

Call me Bert...

Only I don't have the candy-striped jacket or straw hat, but give me a moderate breeze and I'll be out flying a kite. Life is a lot like that I think: tension on the line; dependendant on the breeze; when there's slack you pull it in, but your never really in control.
I'm not sure if you should find this comforting, but I do, given the right amount of breeze you can let your kite go as high as you want. I'm not given to words lately, a dry spell, or dust bowl- there is plenty of.. hmm.. emotion, but never focused. I have noticed, or am becoming more aware, that I don't show emotion much- I like to think I keep it in my eyes, but sometimes it hides in my chest, but rarely is it on my face.
Still not sure if anyone reads this thing... I'm hoping to add a think-tank twist to it, though it would probably feel more like a dunk tank. I do like a good fair.

St. Patrick's Day

I am fortunate enough to know that a little bit of Irish blood runs through my veins, and I have never really indulged in the most Irish of holidays. But I am dissapointed that people seem to think it's o.k. to celebrate any holiday on any day that is not that holiday (follow?)
On a related note: One of the greatest movies ever made is "Boondock Saints," and I was pleased to hear last month that they are creating a "Boondock Saints 2: All Saints Day" I am really looking forward to this movie as they seemed to have locked up all the main members of the original cast, minus Willem Dafoe.
And finally, St. Patrick's day is the unofficial end of winter and beginning of spring- contrary to the beliefs of my hoosier fellows, it is not basketball- and the end of the winter relationships that were doomed to fail.
Happy St. Patrick's Day (by the by, it's on Tuesday!)

Weekend Reflections upon Oily surfaces

This last weekend I ventured out from my thought cathedral in search of inspiration, the kind found in the quiet wings of art museums. First let me say that it was enjoyable, in spite of there being no baroque works hung from the walls. It was my first visit to the Indianapolis Museum of Art since before the completion of the new entrance: an extravagant clear layered cake. It took me nearly four hours to tour (that includes skipping all the entire second floor) and by the end I had a limp that would make House jealous (seriously, my knee just can't take the abuse it used to). On the first floor is European art from renaissance to impressionism, dutch impressionist, romanticism and realism. There was also American art, placed towards the end and a selection of Hoosier artists including a T.C. Steele piece that I have always enjoyed but can never remember the name of. Back in the European section there was a sad face that drooped near the eyes, as if the tears weighed upon it immensely (I imagine this is what I'll look like if I ever cry again). The third floor contained the new European Design exhibit that was quite a bit smaller than I had anticipated, but the modern art on the same floor more than made up for the disappointment (I am not so fond of design). It was a lovely way to spend a Saturday afternoon, and I shall see to it that my "should replenish" becomes a "does replenish" more frequently (I do think they miss me something fierce, and some even tried to talk to me, but I digress...).

intricate woven rug

If you pay attention to the subtleties of the world around you may notice that more than one thing recurring through the days. An idea, or word, or person, comes into a day, not like the blinding light of a midday sun, though this may be where you notice it, but instead like the dawn, and fades like the sunset or the leaves from the autumn tree. Each is its own colored thread of a tapestry woven with great care, and where one thread ends another has already begun to take its place, just as the birds fly south before the last leaf falls, but never before the first leaf turns, and you can continue to see the migratory patterns when the first snow falls.

It is these threads that give me comfort, for I belief it is a recognition of the blanket I am wrapped within, alive with life and full of color.

My worst 4 days

(backstory) I have always reviled hospitals for nearly as long as I can remember. The cold, lackluster halls drenched in a sterile stench that draws on the soul- like a cord to the blinds. When I was in high school, a dear friend of mine was placed in one for having the condition of bipolar disorder, and though I did not understand, I empathised and shared a burden that was not mine. His pain was my pain, but my sanity remained my own for me to lose at another turn.

It has been three years now, in a life measured in three year cycles, since I made the turn that landed me in a similar position: locked behind double doors with nothing to do but walk the circular hallway and sip on a variety of carbonated drinks. It was then that I fully understood the burden which had been heaped upon my good-natured friend. The hours were long, still they are long, and the numbness, induced by the combination of medication and sterile air, induced tremors and constipated thought (mostly it was the medication). It was the furthest from myself I have ever traveled. It was the absolute worst 4 days of my life. I often complain that life is cage; that the rules we live by constrict us so much that I am often bewildered that we do not suffocate; but when I remember these days, even with great languishing and shallow breaths, I understand that, given a choice between the two cages, I have yet to suffocate here.

Life got you down??

Yeah, I've been there, in the not too distant past-ever not so distant past. May I advise for your consumption a honey packet or two to start your morning off a little sweeter, a little slower- the lower me would say life is long enough without slowing it down any. True, life is long, but it is the enjoyment that seems to shorten the distance, the sweetness that slower steps would allow us to enjoy all the more. So a honey packet or two should do; a honey packet or two.

On a side note: I'm listening to Peter Cincotti's rendition of "Rainbow Connection" and I can't stop picturing a young Kermit on a log in the intro to "Swamp Years"

Sanded Wood

I am hickory split from the tree: odd in shape and texture, and as hard as I may try to bend my vision to suit my shape, I am still oddly complex and difficult to find a place amongst the whittled and sanded timbers- guided and leveled and nailed into place. I don't really know why I'm writing this, I think I'm merely trying to work my way around a poem, the beginnings of which formed in the faint hours of starlight:
The carpenter works to a sanded board/ never an enigmatic smile adored
true it doesn't make much sense, but often I attribute this to the mixture of several unmixable ideas- such as blue, red, and yellow (making brown) when you're trying for a faded violet, or earthy orange or green- never sure which color you really wish to use, so you end up with all of them.
It reminds me of a line from a Remy Zero song, "we're built from the old frames"

Have you ever seen the bark of a tree to flow like a river (up and it's the Nile, down and its much less intriguing) or do you only see a trunk, a shield, if it were Norse, from the weather?

Smile...

Denial,
Anger,
Bargaining,
Depression,
Acceptance,

This comes to light after certain thought- concerted thought, about the behavior I've been exhibiting, and brought to the front of my mind with the passing of my Aunt's father. I did not know him well, but he seemed of the friendly sort as we would often intermingle at larger family events- usually surrounding the holidays.

I am trying to transition from 4 to 5 but find it difficult as certain ideas remain unanswered, such as: is it all in my mind. My mind is an elaborate mixture, perhaps concocted by some mad scientist, or it is the result of my giving it free reign- allowing it to wander where it pleases as opposed to controlling the line of thought. It is my nature to see the worst, and believe it, regardless of whether the continuity of events supports it.

thank you

I wish to extend thanks to anyone who may have read even the glimmer of a letter here on my blog. Unfortunately, or fortunately, I feel I have nothing left to say that may bear any consequence on future events. Although I believe in hope, seeing it daily, and bear a faint hope that someday I may stumble upon some words, or that the wind may carry them to me lightly and with the fresh scent of spring, I also believe that they shall not be transcribed here. Thank you again, and though I know you are few, there is only that much more thanks to be divided amongst you.

The Mirror Grave

Samuel Oliveri had trouble sleeping. It always starts this way, and with the haunting dreams. He had found that the only remedy worth pursuing were midnight walks around town. It was quiet and calm, and the heavy air of the night seemed to slow his mind enough to allow an adequate amount of sleep.

The city’s greenway trail, though not really green, cut through the southern corner of the cemetery. It never troubled him before, nor did it this night, until he approached a peculiar headstone that he had not seen before. It was on the edge of the greenway and stood alone, away from the others. As he approached it he read the inscription with great wonder. The granite headstone reflected his name: Samuel W. Oliveri, there were no dates, no in memoriam, no last words.

The grass grew plentiful beneath the moon-cast shadow, thick and leaning over from the weight of the dew. Leaning lightly against the headstone was a spade shovel with a wooden handle, slightly worn, and it begged as it stood there to be used, and he begged from the inside wanting only to know. It would be hours before the sun would lighten the sky, and there was nobody to be seen walking around.

The shovel felt proper in his hands, as if it were his own, the same one he had used to tend to his garden at home. With a thrust downward he stabbed at the soil, then hesitated before pulling back on the handle leveraging up the soil so unfortunate to be chosen first. The hole started small and grew wider and deeper in an awkward manner- as if there was no real intent, just a raucous digging. But deeper and wider the hole became, and the mounds of soil placed on either side of the headstone grew proportionally bigger. The shovel made an awful broken sound when it hit bottom, and was cast up and over the ledge onto a patch of dirty grass after Samuel remove what he could from atop the casket. Kneeling down, he brushed the layer of dirt off to the side as he searched for an opening.

The casket was simple but sturdy, and he was unsure of what he would find. A thousand images flashed through his mind as to what the outcome of the next moments would be. His heart palpitated. His throat clamped down. His breaths became shallow and forced. His eyes widened as his hand found the latch, and when his fingers began to pull- at this point he tried to stop but his hand was in control- he shut his eyes tighter than he did as a child in the dark. Only the top half opened. He slowly, squeamishly, began to open his eyes and turn away in disgust before even he could see. The casket was empty, but contained this oddity: the bottom of the casket was a mirror, and as he looked at it, befuddled and amazed, his face attained a slight smile only the moment after his heart gave out.