Water...

"Some voice said, Here's a map, drive off it. When do I come back? I asked You don't." * On vacation with my partner, near Mill Creek Bridge, CA June 2025 near Mill Creek Bridge, CA Highway 1 (PCH) a bit south of the Bug Sur Landslide This haunting:  some parts still remember being stuck in pretend straight.  My pulse still quickens, adrenalin still rushes in anxiety at times, and then I remember that was then.  Now is different.  Some time ago, back in some other part of the journey, I once startled at  the long-held premonitions of "driving off the map?"  Now I can call it: "my journey toward wholeness."  Some rumble, from beyond the joys of today, groan on about loneliness and rejection from others--voices once believed. It was only a few, who could not accept gay.  Many are just fine with gay, even before I was okay with admitting to myself--"I am gay".  Most were just fine with gay.  The journey, that map, wasn't pointing toward...

  Empty is a full space. The void contains timelessness. I have been anxious to meet empty     very, very anxious. I have avoided empty feelings     only to notice empty more prominently. Sometimes I have saught for empty spaces     nature dressing up the unfathomable     sheltered, I have for brief moments,     relished a deep inhalation of empty air     pregnant with morning dew, ladened with pollens     empty air rushing into gasping, expanded     lung-sacks, permeable organic things     squeezed into companionship among billions     of cells made up of stardust.   The spaces between stars, empty? Between breaths, universes? Empty is not so empty: impish a-void-er!     Nothingness vastly embraces and fills you. Full of space, I step through the portal of this Thursday morning: 6/22/23

This may be a 30,000 foot view of life.  He's been in the planes looking down between the clouds to see a landscape, one that looks miniature.  Tierra firme!  He's a terrestrial.  Feet upon the ground and brain sometimes in outer-space. The steam of hot coffee, a Spring morning that is shaping up to be a Winter morning, but that is all part of the cycle of Springing in the Northern Hemisphere.  One cannot have Spring without som'more Winter.  Winter may not want to let go (please allow a personification), much like this man does not like to let go either of that which feels safe and the comfort of the "expected".  Then there is the "usual" which has changed and metamorphosed, and nothing is all that predictable.  Covid-19 perhaps it was more predictable than he or anyone thought possible.  Then there is the toy like scene from 30,000 feet of Ukraine and Monster Russia playing at something awful: war.  Predictable as well, he supposes, bu...

It's my birthday this month.  I'll  be 39 on 12 May.  I'm hopefull that these words will be a positive thing for my mind to work on throughout the whole month of May I like . . . has many things that could be placed after those starter words.   I'm curious about self-chatter.  Can I give new words, new phrases, new one liners to myself that are more supportive than the negative top-down, emotion packed self-judgements? I will finish this sentence:  I ______________ myself.  These may turn into mini mantra's love cherish enjoy sooth caress celebrate feel support validate hear  empathize  attune see hold permit re-create understand welcome embrace invite be-friend accept approve nurture encourage praise like acknowledge release renew respect I may be a puzzle but I'm worth figuring out.

This beautiful scenery is a reminder that individual identity blends to make a beautiful whole. We are much more than a snowflake.  We are no less intricate, subtle, and unique.  What does beauty look like?   Here's a sketch.