The Manuscript of your Life

Your story is awesome, overwhelming and beyond imagination. Your life is a book, but it’s probably not a best seller. It’s a rough manuscript stained with coffee rings and nicotine. It’s not the clean, crisp, perfectly penned pages found in a book store. Instead it is aged, torn and sloppily written.

A best seller is a natural page turner, exciting in all the right ways and follows a fantastic formula. Our daily lives are unremarkable, our scenes make little sense and the narrative is shit. Nothing seems to happen for any particular reason, the rise of action rarely leads to anything great. It’s like an under dog story without overcoming the odds, or a redemption story without redemption.

When we read back over our life book it seems like none of the characters make any sense, the bad guys always win and the plot seems to be completely absent.

Throughout our lives we grab at our hair and pull it out screaming “Why the fuck is this happening to me? When will any of it ever stop?”

It is easy to get caught up in our lives. Often we mistake ourselves as the main character of the story, so why wouldn’t we? If we arent the main character, then who is?

Chill, drink a cup of coffee and burn your candle at both ends. Miss a night’s rest and immerse yourself in this crap life of yours. Take some time and figure out what the fuck is happening and try to do something about it. If you need to complain or cry or beat yourself up then do it. Wallow in your misery, let it infect every spirit fiber of your being.

Take some time and get to know your pain, make it your friend. While you’re at it think about your mortality and look back on your life. How remarkable has it been? How much good have you done for others? What is your legacy?

At the end of your life story will it have been written with the blood and tears of others? Will it be a terrible tale of envy and anger? Will it’s pages be aged, wrinkled and bound into a bloated book?

Or will you have lived a good life, a loving Life? An existence committed to the enrichment of others? A life with purpose. A purpose that was right for you, one of empathy, compassion and critical thought. A story you wrote, a narrative you drove forward with your own blood, sweat and tears?

Did you learn along the way that you are not the main character? That others have feelings, make mistakes and are bumbling through this complicated existence just like you?

Take a breath. Take a big ol breath. If you are reading this you aren’t dead. You are alive. Even if you are laying on your death bed waiting for the ticks of time to slip away there is still hope. With hope there is goodness, you have time to do good, be good and help others feel good. You have time to leave your anger at the door, to invite love in your life and embrace the fate you make.

The pain you feel might pass, it may never pass. It might ride you like a jockey till the end of the race. But that’s alight, I believe you will find a way. You will climb the tallest mind mountain and experience an epiphany that will forever transform your life.

A life that is awesome, overwhelming and beyond imagination. One without clean, crisp and perfectly penned pages. It will be a rough manuscript stained with coffee rings and nicotine, it will be aged, torn and sloppily written. It will be the best tale, the greatest story, it will be the book of your life.


Hold onto the light

The Glory of Hope

Sometimes we hear or see something that rattles us so deeply we experience physical pain. This week I experienced this kind of heart wrenching insight.

To be inspired like this is rare and beautiful. Opening your heart, allowing the feels of another to settle on your spirit.  I felt the vines of my inside zones grow and twist around my spine, reaching to my brain, planting itself deeply into my mind.  Listening and feeling the journey of others, I lost myself in their eyes. For a moment I could taste their world, feel their wind against my flesh and breath their air.

There are definitive moments when our life changes. When the leafy roots of another intertwine ours, wrapping their life force around and infiltrating our soil.

These thoughts are not romantic ramblings, they are a reflection on life. An expose on the wonder and awe of existence, how each of our lives intertwine.

A week of experiences culminated to the most beautiful moment. I held my Acre, my soft, loving cat in my arms as he slowly fell asleep. As I petted him I thought about how I had never held him in a such a way. How much I will miss him when he passes. How much I love him.

The world is a hard place, so dark and dreary. It is horrific in many ways, sometimes it feels like there is no end to the evil, terror and pain. So much cruelty enacted upon others, so much flesh torn and ripped, it is easy to fall prey to the idea, that our world is a nightmare.

There is more than darkness, more than unyielding agony, more than all-consuming fear. Look about the room and you will see a simple golden light. With this light we can have faith there is good in the world, beauty in life and a purpose to the pain. Hold it tightly and don’t let go. Hold on to the light for it will give you Hope that you will feel love, life and the glory of goodness.


People in your Life – Read some delightful poetry!


People in your Life


How wonderful are the people in your life?

Are they marvelous?



Do they fill your inside zones with joy?

Are they the delicious cream of your soft scrumptious eclair?

Do they own your heart and soul?

Did you give this as a gift?

or were your bones broken as they peeled your fingers back?

to snatch and grab your heart from  your battered and beaten hand.

Do they bounce your soul like an old rubber ball?

Like they don’t care about it at all?

letting it fly this way and that, bouncing down the bleak empty hall.

or do they nestle it against their chest?



Loving it for All


You want me to do something – Poem



Threes a bean and his girlfriend Snur

Threes a bean and his girlfriend Snur


Three’s a bean 

and silly to be

He likes cats and furs 

and especially his girl friend Snur


She likes big fancy things

and things that sing

She likes love and likes and really fast bikes

and especially her big boy friend Three.


Together they were a pair

Living like two beans in a snare.

They danced and pranced 

and moved with glee.


Sometimes they would leave their trap

to follow a map

traveling to places

from here to there

They would see things 

Having fun and such

Holding hand in hand

protecting each other from the hot covered sand.


One day

which is now

They left for a trip

Together just the two

Walking from here to there

and there to there

they found spiky, pokey burly bur cover land

It was there, there was no way round

only option was to go back from where they were found


With smiles on their face

and anticipation on their brow

they tip toed here and there

avoiding this and that

as they walked this sticky stucky place with their shoe-less feet


Three the bean began to find things with his feet.


He said






Snur stopped and turned

her face was filled with concern

She knelt close to take a look.

surely whirly there it was, that burly bur was sticking stuckly right from that bulgingly big toe!


She said:


This thing

This thing I see

It sticks out

for everyone to see!

It so big, bigger than big

Its enormous! How were you able to step on something so huge?


The eyes of Three widened

His eyes filled with fear, how bad could this be?

With a weakened soft voice he said:

That thing

That’s what you see?

It sticks out?

Its so big? How can this be?

How will I ever go free?


She pondered and thought

then one idea came

it was with her fingers

that she would set him free

with two fingers pinching

she sure did squeeze

Snur pulled that big ol’ bur

and threw it into the leaves

after a single moment 

they both could see

he, Mr Three the bean was finally free!


Looking ahead

A long trip they saw

Burs and sticks and stones dotted as far as their eye could spy

Snur looked at Three’s clumsy feet

Though they were big, though she loved their strength

knew he was no acrobat

surely he would step on every burly bur as he walked through the burs and sticks and stones


With a welcoming smile Snur said:

Come here my big fine man

Come take my hand

Come climb my back

Come be my sac pack

Let me 

your girlfriend Snur

carry you pass all these burs.


In our Life – Poem



The rings of christmas

The Rings of Christmas – Body of Life

Silver and gold garland wreathed around the needle-sharp Christmas tree. An array of glass and plastic ornaments fell from hooks like stems of fruit on the pine branches. Spiraling luminescence gracefully undulated from a string of rainbow lights.  A sparkle caped angel rested atop the lush tree, but it was the brilliantly wrapped gifts tied with bows that were the culmination of excitement.

Hundreds of cookies rested in old popcorn tins. Homemade fudge, pies, cakes and all sorts of scrumptious treats were in abundance. The house was a Christmas treasure land, my mother made sure of that. Each year she made everyone’s favorite, mine were fork mashed peanut butter, snicker doodle and chocolate chip cookies. The experience was one of love, a memory I am still able to treasure to this day.

These lessons, memories, moments are the foundation of how Me-of-the-Past and Me-Now romance life. I desire for my relationships to show love in the same way my mother showed how to make holidays special.  Find the beauty in the world around you, and you will be filled with it.

When saturated with beauty, we accept and nurture hope. We can take this small gift and place it into the palm of those we love. By passing this a spark we can ignite a great fire and inspire a conflagration of joy, peace and harmony.

All actions may have great return, so invest in the positive ones. The love shown to me, expressed by my mother, has, continues and will always enrich my life.


It Slides – Poem

it slides

Its Slides

It slides and slips

moving swiftly between our finger tips

grains of sand,

like time, our lives spill through our hand

as our love slips away


it disappears before our eyes

falling to the floor

against the stone

bouncing away

hiding, leaving us forever


falling in love is a moment of beauty

a rush, a flash of light, fireworks and fun


When the love is done, its gone in a shadow

a heavy blanket

an emptiness inside…


…a sad farewell



Simply Gorgeous – Poem