Tag Archives: journey not the destination

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Starting this month, I’ll be digging through my songwriting/poetry archive to share some thoughts and feelings from days gone by. It’s been an interesting journey, to say the least, and these entries serve as sentimental snapshots, frozen in time, of where I was and where I hoped to venture.

I’ve spent many years putting pen to page in an attempt to make sense of the world around me and my place in it, to varying degrees of success. But I’m supremely grateful for the experiences logged and the memories made.

We have such a finite window when life feels like perpetual possibility. I’d like to think that in the midst of all that mental, physical, and emotional chaos, I was able to carve out a memorable piece of my own path…and maybe help impact a few others along the way.

So here’s to looking back!

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I’m sick of headaches and heartbreaks,
chances of earthquakes,
dreams that I can’t shake,
like sleeping wide awake.
But inside the hating is still contemplating
how a life spent in waiting
can carry the crown.

See my glasses are masses of these blurry lines,
where I’ve conceded defeat and found shelter to hide.
But the answers, like Rubik’s, seem spun out of web.
While the pinballs and flippers rip tilts through my head.

Keeping track of the stack of the jobs left to do,
is like staring at stained-glass I can’t quite see through.
But clearly, my eyes are the last ones to blame.
It’s the passion and hope breaking rules of the game.

I find solace and comfort in a time without sound.
Feet are firmly and rightly set deep in the ground.
Still, the lure to take flight is a constant concern.
Resolution, the tool, to extinguish the burn.

Hungry hearts satiated by the chance of one prize.
Lows will drop and get lower, only rescued by highs.
There’s no theory or law that maps out this course.
Just a strap and a saddle and getting back on that horse.

Layers and layers are left to explore.
Molds are broken, notes taken,
but less open doors.
Question motives and practice,
yet drop every clue.
More eyes open and, this time,
they’re looking at you…

Adolescence Interrupted

…and stop killing animals.

A Chapter Closes

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Two weeks ago, I lost my last biological grandparent. Defying all rational convention about some hardwired human acceptance of the inevitability of life’s ultimate conclusion, I found myself at odds with the abrupt presentation of this unmistakable new reality.

On a loop or in a wheel, we are only granted so many spins. It should be no surprise that someone who has lived a long, full existence will eventually read the words on that final page. But reaching the coda does not always arrive free of regrets. There are some who scrape and scratch and claw in the desperate hope for one more second to say what’s been hiding, dormant, during each previous solar lap. With the chronometric click of a stopwatch marking that last finish line cross, there are many who will suffer under the weight of internalized regret.

Any finale free of an encore is a bitter pill to swallow and a harsh concept to stomach, regardless of the strength of your constitution.

But there are a rare few who can float above that burden to find the gift of a truly peaceful passing. Leaving this terrestrial plane with the satisfaction felt from completing a comprehensively explored journey is not simply uncommon. It’s downright remarkable.

The only matriarch I had the opportunity to know, my paternal grandmother was a queen in her castle, surrounded by a ceaselessly devoted and doting “royal household.” She was a ringmaster and supervisor, discreetly directing the proceedings with a simple glance or folding of the hands. A subtle conductor, she left little doubt about what she thought or felt. But everything was wrapped in a warm, inviting embrace behind kind, wise eyes that seemed to see the soul.

The finality that follows death is not something I have ever been able to fully process, and there is always this nagging notion that something was waiting…undone, unsaid, or unanswered. But I can take some comfort in the fact that this one human being lived her life to its greatest potential and left nothing sitting on lists. No buckets. No wishes.

Still, there is a tangible vacuum created when a wheel is suddenly absent from its hub, and every earthquake sends out shocks from its center.

We are all still rattling.

Adolescence Interrupted