A New Year’s Conversation

Today is the first day of 2018; it is New Year’s day, and it seems everyone is eager to ask or know, “What is your New Year’s resolution?”  I have resigned myself (happily) to the fact that I will begin another New Year without a traditional ‘resolution’ in place. Perhaps I make too much ado about nothing, but my resolution resistance results from having carelessly made too many New Year’s resolutions in years past. I just feel over-aged (sensible, experienced) to be conned into making an order for change simply because the calendar page has flipped.

I acknowledge this practice is traditional and often considered a fashionable thing to do…making resolutions. And as such it does provide fodder for water cooler exchanges during the first weeks of the new year with those of whom we are acquainted. But in reality, the ‘new’ wears off most resolutions before month’s end. Surely there is a more effective mechanism for making long-standing change in one’s life which surpasses this conventional, seasonal system.

So what is our fascination with all things NEW? Why do new things beckon such hope in our psyche, as though all things are possible for us, personally and collectively…simply because we enter a New Year? Why do we give so much prestige to the beginning of things? A new relationship; a new material acquisition; a new skill learned; a new experience acquired. A new life born. A new season begun. Why is ‘new’ so appealing?

New beginnings are often disguised as painful endings. Lao Tzu

Lest we forget that ‘new’ has a very limited shelf-life, perhaps we may better understand our attraction to ‘new things’ if we realize that our human nature is strongly wired to crave the rush of change and novel experiences. It is no wonder then, that we enjoy celebrating a New Year, and all new things, because in doing so we acknowledge and embrace NEW as a symbol of HOPE. And hope always expects that change will work in our behalf.

There will come a time when you believe everything is finished; that will be the beginning. Louis L’Amour

We see this cycle in the seasons of nature. One season gives way (dies) to usher in the new of the next season. And again, the dark of night transforms the new of day with the rising of the morning sun. Instinctively we know that ‘new’ equates to vitality and life force. The newborn infant screams this message loudly for all to hear: I am alive! I am viable! I am vital! I am ready to grow and to transform! And yet just minutes before the newborn’s birth, she was forcefully expelled from the womb of her first existence.

Now that I have finished this New Year’s conversation with you all, I feel a certain excitement creeping into my mind, my emotions and my thinking. I feel the desire to embrace this New Year, with all it’s propensity for change and uncertainty, with the lusty cry of a newborn babe! I have arrived! I am fully awakened to this new day in this new year! I am fully alive and equal to the coming challenges…fully prepared to experience this new season with eyes wide open…fully resolved to embrace hope through the months of this coming year…Happy New Year 2018! And Happy New Year to all who read this little blog post!

One’s destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things. Henry Miller

Conversation
Viable

Percussive

Underneath it all, the everything of my days,
Time, timbre, tempo, tone skillfully scored,
Upon the tablet, the clef of my heart,
Playing the treble, then again on bass,
Tickling, fleeting notes like praise;
Brings dancing to feet; brings singing to voice.

Music to my ears; color for my eyes; sweet on my tongue;
All is possible, with harmony and dissonance.
Perfect juxtaposition; give and take; calm and boisterous.
Lived to the hilt; embracing everything and nothing.
Sweet symphony! Life!
Breathe in…breathe out.

Playful rhythms thrum my mind, like river’s current;
Trilling minutes trip away as water over fall;
Dribbling in agony, the seconds sometimes will,
Dribbling in agony, an hour wanting to fill;
Other days swooping minutes fly fast;
Fly fast minutes, no shadows to cast!
Whether perceived or not, time does pass;
Whether perceived or not, time does cadence
Its perfection the percussion of marching,
Its perfection the marching, no end its knowing!

Can you hear it? Do you perceive it? Feel it do you not?
The music of the sphere?
Am I alone, in this wonder to partake?
A witness solitaire, to the rhythms on the air;
See it expand; notice its contraction; behold its height, width, depth.
Its percussive beat syncs with my every breath.

via Daily Prompt: Percussive
Percussive

 

growingbolder.com

Life in Particular

To live life sleeping is to live as feather, blown in the breeze.
To live life trusting is to live as eagle, peaceful above the fray.
To live life fearing is to live as coward, afraid of that which is not.
To live life embracing is to live as mother, alive to possibility.
To live life doubting is to live as beast, restless to roam.
To live life accepting is to live as child, carefree in bliss.
To live life striving is to live as competitor, stranger of idleness.
To live life dying is to live as divine, extravagant without end.
To live life loving is to live as fire, burning unconsumed.

Doesn’t everything die at last and too soon? Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? ~Mary Oliver

Particular

Recreate

Blast past the inky black holes,
As fast as plodding feet may trod;
Tarry not, neither long, or too close;
Stay far away; steer clear,
From the edge of the deep,
Lest you fall into the mire,
Of inky black sleep.

Recreate, re-create; matters not what its called;
Recreate, re-create; magical reset for the living;
Doors and windows open to sky’s of blue;
Whenever the button Recreate is pressed;
Old living renews; vitality abounds;
Recreate, re-create, step up, your’re next!

New eyes, new ears, new mind, new thoughts;
Bright brush strokes, re-color dreary landscapes,
Recreate! Re-create!
Wait for its nudge, its urge, its push towards re-start;
Lightning bolts, blasts from depths of deep sea;
Recreate! Re-create!
Re-member to breathe,
And in breathing perceive;
Be settled, renewed, re-framed, re-cast.
Recreate

via Daily Prompt: Recreate

Purple Pleasure

Purple intrigue, Purple delight;
I cannot fully comprehend, How you transport me,
Purple!

Whenever I gaze, whenever I see,
Purple before me, behind me, beside me,
All the earth is crowned it seems,
In majestic Purple violaceousness!

Blue-Violet glamour, my eyes shine in misty glee,
My heart palpitates in happy purple-beats,
Deep, delicious breaths, drawn in and out,
In the presence of Purpleliousness;
Such intoxicating fragrance, Purple-like perfume!
Eggplant, Grape, Pomegranite, Blueberry, Plum.
Viva! Violescent Purple!

Purple beauty arrays the flowers of the earth in rainbow hues,
Purple brilliance, crown jewel of every gardenscape.
Lilac, Hyacinth, Forget Me Not, Lavendar, Verbena, Iris;

Blue-Violet glamour, my eyes shine in misty glee,
My heart palpitates happily, my voice will raise
In song, in praise and thankfulness for all things…Purple!

Purple

All That Glitters

All that glitters, all that glows…
Like gems that sparkle from a light,
So does a life, when mined
From depth of soul.

Jewels all, our days unfold,
Some cast in luster gold,
Some cast in shadows dark and bold.
All that glitters, all that glows.

Jewels abound, dug out of rock,
Transformed by task and toil,
Beauty enlarged, engraved, unleashed,
All that glitters, all that glows.

Jewels amassed, reflecting mirrors,
Refracting love, scattering treasure,
Inspect, reflect, behold in wonder,
All that glitters, all that glows.

Glitter

No Thinking Required

The way I look at Automatic,
I think it somewhat problematic.
It’s so easy, this is true,
Requires no thinking,
From me or you.

However sublime it may seem,
Automatic is not always keen;
It Liquidates the mind, I say,
Turns muscles to mush, just to
Save us sweat or toil.

Turn a dial, push a button, plug-n-go;
Automatic magic, the world is a-gaping!
Who would have guessed?
Who would have thought?
A heap of helplessness is wrought,
Upon the unthinking lot. Because,

When Automatic is broken down, the
Instructions for Manual cannot be found.
Of course a mess does quickly ensue,
Its proportions epic, no: scary; gigantic;
I think this somewhat problematic.

Automatic