Sometimes I Climb the Walls and Lie on the Ceiling
Many years ago, while searching for something to read in a secondhand bookshop, I came across - Going Mad to Stay Sane - The Psychology of Self-Destructive Behaviour by Andy White - in the psychology, mythology, alternative healing and self-help section (which in this bookstore was in a small alcove separated from the rest of... Continue Reading →
The other day I wrote a post about how blogs are people, how what you find on a blog reflects the person behind the blog who experiences all the ups, downs, and usual merry-go-round of being a human living life. I know that's obvious but sometimes the obvious gets obscured by... by what? By all... Continue Reading →
People sometimes ask me questions on this blog... And occasionally someone asks me a question, based on something to do with this blog, through my tumblr, my Twitter, or on my deviantart. If those other social media platform accounts were friends of mine who were waiting for me to show up at a social get-together...... Continue Reading →
If you were to write a book in which you told the story of your life - What would the name of your memoir be? That question caught my eye while I was wandering aimlessly on Buzzfeed. I enjoy taking silly quizzes, as it can be an insightful and fun way of getting to know... Continue Reading →
Grazie mille e mille grazie to Seashell, for taking part in my challenge and challenging me, for being so gracious, as always, and for being a deep sea diver in life, and asking questions like this one: . Dear Ursula, here is my question: how do you manage to write and find inspiration everyday? have... Continue Reading →
"The pain, the despair, the craziness of self-destructive behaviour is as loud a statement as it is possible to make that our soul is in exile and under attack." - Andy White . Isn't it typical. The moment you want something, it plays hard to get. However if you don't want it, it's there for... Continue Reading →
Do you like being asked questions? Do you like answering questions? Depends on the questions, doesn't it? What if those questions are about getting to know yourself, and the answers you give reveal you to yourself in some way? . . You may have noticed that the last few posts on this blog have a... Continue Reading →
Sometimes in my wanderings I come across a creative expression which leaves me speechless within and without… this is one of those.
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A beautiful poem, mesmerising and inspiring, thank you for sharing!
Sometimes I climb the walls
To lie on the ceiling
Catch myself
From falling
From feeling
Lingering in the webs
Of memories
Holding back & healing
Suspended in guiding light
Permeated with insight
I balance on the wire
Afraid to fall into the fire
Stepping on the stones of light
Embracing the flame
Awakening the change
I challenge the steps
Taken with burnt toes
Molding me
Scolding me
With lessons learned
The burning feeds my life
Bruised & battered
But still whole
Walking the tightrope
Of mind, body, & soul
Uplift through newly formed wings
Integrated & aligned
All needs combined
Through you & me
And not material things
The flight is nice
And freedom’s calling
It won’t keep you from falling
Away from fear
And your true calling
I follow that voice
Still slightly unknown
Through mysteries unfurled
And problems uncurled
I make the choice
Its me at the…
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A very beautiful, expressive, and deeply personal story about love, life, death and loss told by a talented writer of inner poetry. Thank you for sharing!
A few weeks after you died, I was invited to go to the top of the mountain where I had never been. I concurred.
The night before we were to drive, however, I started to panic. My heart was racing, anxiety inside me churned, and I paced in my pajama, thinking, ” I can’t go. You are not with me. I haven’t been any new place without you.”
I felt nervous and considered of cancelling the trip when I spotted the black box that held your ashes.
“Ah, I just take you with me.”
I poured some of your ashes into a small pill container, deposited it in my purse and went to bed. I felt calm. Everything was going to be okay.
Next morning, as we were driving, I confessed to everybody that I had your ashes with me.
“I hope you are okay with it and don’t think…
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...where the Sun don't shine! This is probably the most horrible prompt I've yet to set eyes upon... which is why I quite like it. . Do or Die You have three hundred words to justify the existence of your favorite person, place, or thing. Failure to convince will result in it vanishing without a... Continue Reading →
. . There is nothing free about free association other than the word itself, but even that is shackled by the thoughts, the dreams, ideals, it conjures. A prisoner of the mind, emotion, a distant sense of something elusive singing a siren’s song luring us to places of fantasy whose reality lies hidden beneath the... Continue Reading →
. . “Then shadows and shapes, shrouded figures, appeared to join him, apparitions, ancient, mythical faces, wise and beautiful, like holy ghosts, shimmering around around him, beside him, beyond him, enveloped by a brume indescribable, shot through with shafts of pink and blue and gold, as though the heavens themselves had opened up and poured... Continue Reading →
This is a beautiful story of the spirit of Christmas and humans.
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I’m linking this to today’s Daily Post prompt: Getting Seasonal. I hope the author of this doesn’t mind.
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The Daily prompt asked: The holiday season: can’t get enough of it, or can’t wait for it all to be over already? Has your attitude toward the end-of-year holidays changed over the years?
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If I answered this from my own experience… but so much of this time of year is about understanding the world beyond yourself, how this season affects those who are around you, in all the diverse layers which surround you, and what it means for them. What it means for others can change what it means for you too.
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Enjoy, best wishes and thank you for sharing your spirit of this season!
My mom, Nancy, is posting a different Christmas memory for 12 days. She gave me her blessing to repost them here. It’s amazing how a life story can be told through the lens of a certain day.
(As most of you know, Phil was shot and killed June 9, 1984 while serving with the VA National Guard, and Philip/PJ was born 5 weeks later on July 15th.)
There we were in Fredericksburg having our first Christmas after Phil was killed. I took on the all the tasks – determined that Christmas would happen for the children just like they expected. Wrangling a Christmas tree brought me to tears as I dragged it home and struggled to get the dang thing to stay up. I baked, I shopped, I prepared for the stockings, check /check /check – everything getting done on my list. I knew I could…
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Why do we relive the past in our minds over and over again. It’s over, there is nothing we can do about it, no do-over, lifetime pushes us forward, so why are we trying to go backwards… into a funhouse mirror. . . . . Is it really just so we can get the last... Continue Reading →
I love this post, this letter to ego, this conversation with self. Deeply contemplative and inspiring!
I wonder if the ego will reply, and if it does it in letter form too.
This reminds me of one of my favourite quotes:
“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing
and rightdoing there is a field.
I’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass
the world is too full to talk about.”– Rumi
Thank you very much for sharing.
This post is inspired by an article I read today also titled A Letter to Ego.
Dear Ego,
Here are a few thoughts that have been circling my mind over and over in recent weeks and honestly I’m tired of them and I’m tired of your grasp on me and my perception of the world.
You’re Not Always Right
I know you like to think that you are always right, but really, you’re not. There are no right or wrong answers, opinions, or thoughts; there are just answers, opinions, and thoughts.
How can anything I say be right or wrong when the definitions of right and wrong are chosen by you and other egos?
I know that you have me believing everything I say is either right or wrong because you have the fear. It’s all an illusion and you’re not real anyway so why should I listen to…
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. . If a wormhole opened up before you offering you a trip to a possible alternate universe, would you step through it? What if that wormhole offered you the ability to travel back in time in this universe, would you take the leap? If you hesitated so long that the wormhole collapsed in on... Continue Reading →
A magnificent tour de force of writing, creative thinking and feeling! – that’s what I felt and thought after I had finished reading this story. There are so many nuances within, insights into the psyche, the cupidity of cupid, and the vagaries of life, of relationships, or ourselves.
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Please read and enjoy!
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Thank you for sharing!
I saw this prompt yesterday and was drawn to that tiny little dark window in the background. I’m not even sure exactly what it is, but this is the story I instantly saw in my head. I’m not sure it exactly fits the prompt, but I had fun writing it *wink*
They forgot about this place. Huntsford Country House has many little nooks and crannies, a half dozen disused and ignored buildings, but I remember where they all are. I spent most of my childhood running around the estate when my dad was groundskeeper here. I reckon I know the grounds better than I know my new, speciality apartment. Good thing really, if I didn’t I wouldn’t be here today.
Dad taught me lots of things, how to set traps, how to hunt, how to forage and how to load and fire a rifle. Useful skills, not the ones I…
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. . Ah, the cosmic irony of it! There is nothing in life which I love more than cosmic irony (and for the sake of brevity, at least my version of such a concept - if I ever say "let me be brief" run for your life because it's going to be a long journey... Continue Reading →
Nighthawks by Edward Hopper . . "The only real influence I've ever had was myself. ” - Edward Hopper . . He stood outside, an observer unobserved. This moment would be frozen in time and he would be the one to freeze it. He had done this before and he would do it again. He... Continue Reading →
. . “When I run through the deep dark forest long after this begun Where the sun would set, trees were dead and the rivers were none And I hope for a trace to lead me back home from this place But there was no sound, there was only me and my disgrace.” - Wolf... Continue Reading →
. . Sun Sign: Karmachameleon. Dates: Uncertain. You'll know if you're this sign or not. If you are this sign and know it, then you'll wish you didn't know it. This wish will make you become one of those people who dismiss things which don't support their version of reality and identity, by using 'facts'... Continue Reading →
. . If the world was washed of all colour and became as black and white as sometimes we would like it to be, what colour would I add if I was allowed to do so? If I went to a Halloween party dressed as my inner self, would I regret my choice of costume?... Continue Reading →
. . If only I hadn’t written this post then I wouldn’t be where I will be then. Look at the mess I am about to make, the worst part of it is that I think this is good, a good idea, as I am doing it, more than that I feel excited at the... Continue Reading →
Madame X by John Singer Sargent . . The other day someone decided that it was an extremely good idea to interrupt me whilst I was doing something frightfully important. I can no longer remember what this frightfully important doing was, however I do recall the interruption and the consequences of it - which is... Continue Reading →
A beautiful story about life, travel, friendship, coffee and nuts… oh those nuts, those wonderful mistakes which happen and fill our lives with delightful stories to tell. This one is told in such a magnificent way and is a joy to read.
Thank you for sharing!
All dressed up for the coffee ceremony, but what is missing?
The Prompt: Dictionary, Shmictionary—Time to confess: tell us about a time when you used a word whose meaning you didn’t actually know (or were very wrong about, in retrospect).
Coffee With No Ceremony
I lived in Addis Ababa adjoining Mexico Square.
I ate injera every day. Had cornrows in my hair.
I thought I knew it all, and though my language skills were poor,
I knew enough Amharic to get by in any store.
Seated in a circle, on low stools around a flame,
We watched Demekech fan the fire—this ritual the same
in every house and every village all throughout the land.
The thick and sludgy coffee was always ground by hand.
Boiled in a clay carafe, then set aside to brew
as in another little pot, some corn kernels she threw.
The popcorn taken from…
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I am not special. When I was a child, the message from my parents was clear: Take care of yourself. We don’t want to do it. You are not special. And so I became an adult very early in life, full of determination to be self-sufficient and self-determined. At forty-five, a disordered person took an... Continue Reading →
If books could speak to me, they would probably accuse me of not loving them the way that I used to… and they would be right. I used to be a voracious reader, hungry for more, devouring every morsel, every word on a page was a tasty treat and if it fell on the floor... Continue Reading →
. . “Follow your inner moonlight; don’t hide the madness.” — Allen Ginsberg . . When I was a child I did what many children dream of doing, and may try doing but then get put in their place for doing it or attempting to do it, by an adult being an adult (who may... Continue Reading →
Lakshmi . . "Those who give have all things; those who withhold have nothing." - Hindu proverb . . Do you value generosity? Do you consider yourself to be generous? Do you see yourself as being a giver rather than a taker? . My mother has always seen herself as being generous. She has often... Continue Reading →
. . The butler did it. But what exactly did the butler do? . Whatever he did, I'm certain it was not as great a crime as what my neighbour is doing. . Nor was it as thrilling as what I am imagining doing to her if she tells me once more to pay attention... Continue Reading →
