bucket list

I was once told that when the reality defeats me, I should think of mornings, breakfast and shirts… it doesn’t not make much sense now that I think aloud, but in my mind it really does…

Reality tends to get wild lately, and since no manual comes with the surprises, I try to make do with what I think would apply… it’s not like I’m ever ready for the changes anyway… just try to open my eyes and see them before they come, as much as possible…

It seems reasonable to make a list and check it twice (no pun) if you want to keep your course steady through the angry waves. I never asked for much though, so I have no pressing desires to highlight for my journey. I find myself wishing for small things, as if they were my whole world… silly really… who dreams to curl up on the settee, when the world is still asleep, wrapped in the night and the sofa throw, head resting in a lap, eyes closed, listening to the steady breathing, the scent of fresh coffee and morning dew infusing the air… quiet… content… appeased… or walk the beach at sunset, no words, just listening to the voices of the ocean, holding a hand… or picking fresh basil to chop for the white sauce pasta…

My bucket list would be short. If I were to cease being tomorrow, a handful of little things would be left scribbled on it…

I want to see a child turn into a giant.. a gentle and great one…

I dream of dipping my feet in the turquoise waters, and walk the white sands

I’d like to finish what I started and not lose hope every step of the way, when the world turns dark.. but stand tall at the end of my tunnel…

I wish to be boring, and do all the simple things.. at least for a while…

But most of all, I crave to walk in light… savor each minute, without haste, fear, or doubt… bask in the warmth… and be still.

There must be a thousand other thoughts that would cross my mind at any given time, frivolous demands, but if I were to really pick THE ones, there wouldn’t be many more aside from these… at least not now… and that may be slightly different tomorrow, when the world kicks me to the curb again… and the waves smear the ink on my list, making it look like there are more words… but the markings of the pen will stay the same… engraved in the paper… traceable with the fingertips… promised to the future.

ramblings

 

But it could easily be the other way…

change

Like a prayer..

travel “lite”…

There are days when you walk in circles; there are days when you walk your feet to the bone; there are days when you walk and have no idea where you’re going; there are days when you don’t want to walk, but your feet keep going… and there are days when the paths cross and you just see yourself coming and going…

Life has a way of taking you places you never planned to go… word of advice, take it with a grain of salt, travel “lite”… walking is in itself too much… why add dragging those bags all stuffed up…

trust

Friend or foe… maybe there is a gray area there too… but when it comes to trust, one thing is certain for me; the only one person who can be trusted with everything… well they haven’t been born yet. For anyone. Mainly because we’re all human. If I can’t trust myself sometimes, should I ever expect others to not betray my trust?  I could, but that would be highly irrational, or simply stupid, and though I can be known as demonstrating both, most of the time I have some common sense…

Trust is a dangerous thing, creates dependencies, illusions, and expectations. None of which are desirable, real, or beneficial. Trust is better left to self. When it can be done. Which should be more often than not. Unless it’s more not…

crumbs

We are taught to take even the little that is offered to us, rather than getting nothing at all. Most of the time that is good advice. But there comes a time when one looks back and tries to pinpoint the reality in their life. And then the little that was offered dissipates into the memory, and there is nothing left to really hold.

Crumbs, I believe they call them.. tiny leftovers of someone’s copious meal. Dried and shriveled… one man’s trash… discarded… free to give… as all the good stuff’s been used… can a human live on crumbs? I believe that at times we cling to whatever we can… holding the tiniest speck of a good thing, like a treasure, in our closed fist… until that one day, when the clenched fingers are pulled open, for only a moment, just to feast the craving soul… and eyes grow in disbelief, for all that’s resting in the palm is dust…

or so the story goes..

facets of truth

Yesterday morning I was pondering the end of life and what I’d take with me… Yesterday afternoon I was answered. Not what I expected, but I guess I hadn’t seen all the variables, and really needed to… It turns out that truth is like a diamond, with many facets that make it whole and each one as important as the other… I was wondering if I’d remember all, some or, really, anything at all…

Well, now I know that if the lights go out unexpectedly, the shock of it leaves the mind blank of any memories… I guess survival mode is activated and any ballast is irrelevant; salvation becomes the priority, and any brain cell left awake goes into emergency mode to figure the way out… no memories to take with… not even the slightest intention of one… and at the end of the ordeal, as brief an encounter as it was, an empty shel resonated in the wind. And the truth was not comforting at all… then why do I try?

I hope that if I go of old age; or, at least of more peaceful means, and my time with my past will then be allowed.. I’d hate to be robbed of my memories after gathering stacks of them, filing and labeling them, placing them in order of appearance, importance and by good or bad… but then it dawned on me… better safe than sorry, why not flip through them every day, soak my soul until they are embedded in me like my fingerprints… then I wouldn’t have to worry I’d lose them when I’m gone… or should I not even try at all? It may make more sense to just sample each day and shed anything that tries to cling to me for safe keeping…

in a secret pocket

It’s been said that at the end of our time, as our eyelids grow heavy and bat their last flutters, our life will flash before our eyes, and that the only things we’ll take with us into forever is our memories. I wonder if we’d really have time to go through all of them… will we only see the most important moments in our life, good and bad, or will we be caressed with simple, uneventful memories of little things that we took for granted… like a morning sunrise, or a smile in passing, or a gaze, or a simple embrace, or maybe just a random walk on the beach… when the world was quiet… I hope I have time to relive the dearest ones when my time comes, but if not, I’ll put a few in my secret pocket, just to make sure they’re among the ones I take with me… and visit them once in a while to make sure I can still see all the details… the good, like the bad, tends to fade away into the past otherwise…