Destiny

I am going through some of my poetry, and decided to start sharing some here. Here is one I like called Destiny.

His robe is not always pulled tight
Across his head
But it always falls straight down to his feet
Where it coils and uncoils like
Snakes that are never content

Eyes like the blackest stars
Gaze across the land
Half closed eyelids that look partly within
Partly without

He moves like waves on a stormy night
Glides likes ravens across the earth
Wingless birds that somehow stay aloft

I say his name
And he answers silently
So silently that I never hear him

But we hear the things he does not say
Respond to his outstretched finger
That points the way home

When we listen he can take a breather
Feel the sunlight hit his bald head
Watch the way the mountains turn orange and pink
In the setting horizon

When we don’t hear
He must put his hood back on
Leave the mountains behind
And point once more to a place
We all fear

We are so bad at listening to his quiet instructions
That it’s been a millennium since he could stand still
And feast on the blistering sunset

In fact
He has had no chance for rest
Since he took this damn job

Led by the Heart

How life changes when the heart is the boss, instead of our head. This is one of the main things I have been striving towards of late, of listening to the heart, of letting it guide me down this subtle path. It's often hard to hear because other things drown it out: fear, worry, anxiety, grief, and daily distractions. In fact sometimes its so quiet I think that its gone and left me.

So how do I know when its speaking? I know I am truly listening to my heart, and not what my head thinks my heart is feeling, when the decisions and the thoughts are pure. By pure, I mean there is no coloring on the edges, no darkening or tearing like there would be in an old photo or a crumbled piece of paper. When the heart speaks, its voice is clear, and pure, and full of compassion. There is no ulterior motive except love, there is no wanting in it except love, there is no gain except giving and receiving love.

I have been trying to listen, and the results are remarkable. It has made dating an entirely new experience to me, and that is probably why I am still single. There is no more need to save someone, no more desire for someone to take care of me, no more selfish motives to get the validation I can now give myself. In fact, I have turned down a few men recently because I knew my reasons to date them were not true. My heart was not enamored, no matter how great they looked on paper.

Funny things start to happen when the heart leads. People you thought would be perfect fade quickly from your sight, and people you never really noticed come crashing through the front door. My reasons for living are different, my motives for being here are stronger, and are less about me.

And when the night grows darker and loneliness lurks in the shadows, I give my heart to the one thing it truly craves, which is communion with god. In the hands of the infinite I learn about love, and trust, and I realize that no one else will ever supply my heart with the grace it gets from that.

So lead the way heart. Lead me into the silent arms of the world, where I can rest my eyes and nurture my soul.

Photography

The big snow hit Nashville, and since this city doesn't seem to have any snowplows, I was more or less snowed in for the entire weekend. It was actually nice to stay home, and spend a long time by myself. Luckily, I like my company.

Even more lucky though, is the fact that I own a camera, and that part of my homework is to get comfortable and familiar with using a tripod and different lighting scenarios. I killed an amazing amount of time playing around with my camera and taking self portraits.

I have often wondered why it is I love photography so much. As long as I can remember few things make me as happy as grabbing my camera and stepping outside my door. It doesn't matter if I am walking the same trail I have walked a thousand times, or if I am somewhere completely new. I still get lost in this magical world where time slows down and the only thing that matters is trying to capture the world in a view I don't normally see it.

Photographers see the world differently. If we go on a drive around the city we notice the shadows that trees cast on the sides of buildings, we notice reflections on skyscrapers, we notice the contrast between everything. In essence, we notice light, and how it changes the way everything looks depending on its quality.

But for me, its also about capturing time. It's about the moments. I love moments, I love the way they arrive unexpectedly, the way they can be so mesmerizing, and then before you know it, they leave again. My whole life I have tried to capture these moments, and then recreate them. That's why I also love writing. I love to put moments down on paper, to try to make them immortal.

Still I know, moments come, and they go. Nothing lasts forever. But looking at a photo, I remember taking the picture, I remember the way the air smelled, the way the wind hit my skin, and I remember the feeling of peace.

Not only do I try capture these perfect moments, but every time I step through my door with my camera in hand, I also create some new moments. If we are anything in this human form, we are a collection of our moments. These frozen snapshots that we hold in our heads, in our hearts, they are what defines us. I suppose I simply want to preserve what I consider to be an extraordinary life to date, I want to cut and paste the times in my life that have shaped me. And I want to surround myself with them, so that everywhere I look I am confronted by the people who have loved me, and the places I have loved.