The quest


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The quest

If I asked you where are you happiest, what would you say? You would go into a diatribe as many do, how happiness is within and shouldn’t be about a place but a state.

Hogwash!

Happiness is a state within a place. You can’t be happy otherwise.  Happiness is defined values met.

Some are miserable and can’t state why. Had they defined what they value, it would make it easier! Others are happy yet theirs aren’t defined either. I speak for those of us who think too much I would say.

What will make me happy? I don’t really ask you but me within your quest, if indeed you have one. Some are happy without purpose. I am not one.

I know the little things that make me happy. As for those, I can be happy almost anywhere, almost as in not jailed. When faced with yet another major decision, it always comes down to this “what will make me happy”?

In the past it used to be providing security and stability to my kids. They’re leaving now. They’re at that stage where they don’t yet realize the value of nearness. Home stifles them no matter how permissive and understanding a parent can be, or loving. Children are made to leave us behind. Maybe, a few may realize the precious moments they can still create with a parent they now have no need of and come close, closer.

Until then or if when, who am I? Who am I without my babies, without purpose?

I am not as much a provider as scapegoat. They don’t make it, it’s me. They make it, it’s also me. It is so easy for children to turn around forget all the sacrifices you’ve made when they’re failing. I pray not mine will. It is possible.

What then in the meantime? Who am I now without them? What do I do next? Where do I go? Time to focus on me, but can I? Should I? Can I make decisions where the consequences can affect them as well? Will they resent me? Will I be okay if they don’t understand? Can I penalize my kids for my happiness?

You have only one life they say! If the choice you make stunts generational wealth, would you do it? Would you make that choice for your own happiness?

How much more can you endure, will you endure for love? What has love cost you? What sacrifices or how long have you sacrificed yourself for love?

Is happiness within when those you love, you hurt deeply? Is it love when your actions hurt them more than they make them feel loved?

When do I start living for me? What will bring me happiness?

Someone said “if happiness is a place and you lose that place, poof, there too goes your happiness”.  I say that’s life. The only constant is change and this is why no one can continually be happy.

If so, does it matter what I do, where I go in the scheme of things?

Here’s what I know: Growth matters!

 

Standing Still!


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In

the

end

what

does

it

matter

if

every

step

leads

back

to

where

it

all

started

Restlessness

 

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Ode to the life I love


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I love

early mornings,

the breath of dawn.

I love clouds, cloudy days,

the evening sun,

when he comes down steps of trees,

fiery in her dress.

I love trees,

wet leaves,

the first drop of snow,

snow on dry eyelids

and wet tongues.

I love blues,

Bukowski and jazz,

Billie Holiday on wings of flimsy.

I love sad eyes,

peace of mind,

freedom and financial security,

moonlight walks,

feathered kisses,

red lipstick,

coffee.

I love coffee,

the smell of coffee,

making coffee for big mugs,

mugs I like to hold,

the early morning  drips and sips

while seated on a balcony.

Every home needs a balcony.

Toes curled, open book, chilly wind.

I love cobble streets,

music,

architecture,

Cuba,

and dancing.

Dancing salsa on Cuban streets,

my daughter’s almond eyes.

Her.

I love her,

her sweet voice.

She’s one in both and both in one.

She’s mine.

I love her.

I love museums,

ancient art,

piercing poetry,

wordsmiths,

books that pull my heartstrings,

sad stories,

stories that yield wisdom,

smarts.

I love words,

play on words,

mind fuck.

I love love,

irresistible romance,

old stories,

people who care,

kindness,

beautiful smiles,

big hands,

hands that hold.

I love thoughtfulness,

a great surprise,

adventure,

old men,

old men wearing hats,

ladies in sunglasses,

friends who understand.

I love grey skies more than blue skies,

windy days on the beach,

dancing and

passion.

Deadlifts.

If life is all the little things,

little things that I love,

then life,

life is what I love.

Just ain’t enough!


Without a reason life ain’t worth living

At the end of the day, if one thinks hard enough, this thing, this one time bit at being human, flesh will end.

When confronted with that reality, you can go two ways: accept it and fuck it or make it count.

Making it count comes in different ways. But in the end, it comes to reason or what some call purpose. Someone once told me life doesn’t have to have a purpose. But that’s a partial lie. Whether you wish to be or not to be, you can’t go through it willingly without a sense of purpose.

May it be love, peace, joy, wrapped as causation, no one can make it through without purpose. Thus far, this realization is keeping me sane. As I live in a world that keeps worse and my goals are turned upside down with no happy ending in sight, this and this alone is keeping me here.

It can’t be for me something fleeting. People die, such as children, spouses, friends and family or they can one day just walk out on you. Your job outgrows you or you it. What about politics, values, whatever it is we embrace, fight for or against? In the end, as they sustain they also drain. Just look at every hero or whom we call hero of some sort. To fight for, write with or against, mending change, birthing the new. They too shift. A win here, a loss there or in the hereafter. 

For me, it must be something lasting, something that is beyond me, you and the universe.  Closer and closer I must draw near. Otherwise this is naught to me.

Life is just a piece of shit ain’t it!

Without


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The day we met all I wanted to do was bury my head in your hair. The way you smile as if the waves were singing a soliloquy only you could understand. So beautiful against the sun, your backdrop. If only I could. If only you would. I can’t forget.