Our memories are like golden compasses. . .they keep our paths true, and we’re allowed the knowledge that we can not move forward without considering the past. Memories can guard the heart against pain and anguish, and they can force them upon it. Some memories are sweet, and can refresh the spirit with a quenching drink of celestial water, while others seem to slowly steal time from us.
Memories reassure us, and can generate a false sense of security, as they are played in our mind in such a way as to etch them into our minds as an absolute and unfaltering truth. However, you and I both know differently. We know that if we begin to question the core of our memories, we are essentially questioning our very existence. There has to be a logical, and chronological, order to things.
One can not feel the pain of losing someone before it happens, therefore, any event that occurs is a memory in the making. As this event, any given event, happens your response to it then determines your actions. If we’re not completely comfortable with the action we assume we must take, then we simply blame the event for our negative feelings.
What we must do is identify those events, and consciously choose the healthy response. Taking responsibility for your actions is one thing, but we really must grasp the responsibility of our thoughts,
Always choose the path of peace and production. Assume all events have a positive side to them if we take the time to interpret and use the knowledge gained for good. You can do it, well, you already are. . .as you’re reading this post. How do you know that you weren’t meant to arrive here?
Hidden beneath the myriad layers of times forgotten are the answers. Answers, as it turns out, are the easiest of articles to obtain, as life’s highway is littered with countless numbers of them. Hidden by the answers remain the questions. . .awaiting discovery, or re-discovery.
Within the echoes of dreams fall the haunting tones of memories, as if a great celestial tree is being decorated to aid in the celebration of a brand new season whose core reverberates the alignment of every-when.
Slipping beneath the waves of time are the nearly elastic strings that touch all points of the ocean, at all points of existence. It is somewhere within its bonds that the ocean holds its most sacred of keys to locks of time and distance.
For as much that can be found that is the same, difference there, also lies. The sacred keys that exist within us, go by many names. They are the names of deities, names of virtues, and names of saving graces. Know that no tale can exist without the spark of its most final moment is found just below the surface, in the very instant it was created.
Search well, as time, tide and fate contain the ingredients for the birth and death of each our lives. . .and if you look close enough you will see the light of divinity as it illuminates the path you were meant to take.
Greetings. . .I know it’s been quite some time since my last entry, however, I am reorganizing things, and I intend to reveal all the things that make me who I am. Some of you will find a way to apply truth and fantasy to the recipe of the time traveler, and some will simply ignore me.
It is my intention to establish a page here that even anGels will read. As time and tide passes, even the stars will align for the perfect experience at the perfect moment, so that no speculation is wasted regarding the source breath of Divine Intervention.
Before you even arrived at this page, I had a vision of your life, love, and very existence. Hope is not the only inspiration, for tomorrow lies within reach, and tomorrow, you just might change the world.
Recently my wife and I ventured to Lower Howard Creek, and were bathed in a spiritual. . .flow. It was as if we’d stepped into a dream. I know me, and I will want to try and convey the immense beauty there. Lower Howard’s Creek in Clark County, Kentucky.
Well, I have a theory on the universal concept of the Holy Grail. It took me 40 years to find it (actually 33). Someday soon, I will transcribe my thoughts and findings regarding that Grail Concept. Look, you’re never going to find the joy and the light vibrations that move through the soul and with a harmony that energizes you spirit.
Just. . .places such as these are our treasures. I firmly believe in the idea that we should leave are footprints.
Not once in my 40 years did I ever decide to hate. Not on the coldest night of a particular winter, out of gas in a ’73 Caprice close enough to see the warm lights of my parents house. While smoke billowed from the chimney of the field stone fireplace, I remained in my car, almost too cold to move. This was in the days before the influx of cell phones, mind you. . .not that it would have mattered.
Recent snows had left us with a nice solid layer about two feet thick, and I knew the walk was going to be frigid and difficult. Nevertheless, I exited my car, which had been sitting for roughly 30 minutes now, after pushing it off the road. Anyone that’s ever own a car from the early 70’s can tell you that moving this land yacht was no simple task. At any rate, after a short “warm-up” inside the car, I then headed toward the house. Upon arrival I was chattering away, my teeth actually hurt in a way I had not before known. I entered the house, and was immediately greeted by my dad’s roll of the eyes and sigh of contempt.
This is just a small sampler of the book I am now working on to help quell some of the darkest and deepest thoughts and anger that I have felt, and still feel, towards my father. I am working hard so that I might find a bit of forgiveness before both he and I pass.
Pretty darn much what the title says.