Monday, June 5

Remind me that this journey is my own.

You'd think I wouldn't need to be reminded of our isolation--our individual prisons of flesh, bones, marrow, and skin. I constantly want to be alone. I perpetually quest for a better understanding of my self. I am blockaded with my individuality, for what feels like a lot of the time.

You'd think I wouldn't need reminding, wouldn't you? But I find myself depending on what I can do for other people, depending on what other people think I do . . . in the end, it is me He looks at, and judges, isn't it? Not my actions or what other people think. I get so heart-weary, sometimes . . .


Honeybee said...

Wanting to be alone and reflect on yourself is a wonderful aspect of your individuality. It does not matter what other people think. You need to do what makes you happy, from your heart. Spread your happiness and share it with others, this is the gift you share with them.


Me again said...

You seek to serve, and in the end, the only "Well Done!" you need is from our Father. All the rest is ... stuff.

Anonymous said...

We're born bloody
We die gasping.
We're all of us muddy
All alone and rasping.

A hundred years, more or less
Ago the sages held a fierce debate
Attempting badly to express
Light in wave or lin-e-ar state.

Then Albert E. came along,
With his wild hair and accent German;
He spoke briefly to the throng,
Upsetting all their previous learnin'.

E, he said, equals emm cee squared
So forth,so on, and so you see
Light moves in waves from here to there
Albeit quite lin-e-arly.

This shocking news led the way,
So the story goes and went,
To lasers, bombs, and DNA,
And all such horrors subsequent.

But whereas bombs cause conflagration,
And DNA denies free will,
Lasers, for your information,
Challenge solitude's stark chill.

With lasers, unlike other sources,
Of elec-tro-magnetic radiation,
Photons all align their courses,
Wavelengths in perfect integration.

Herein is an allegory,
I aver, assert, and contend,
We fly with longer, brighter glory,
With ally, analogue, or friend.

The race we run and path we tread
Are ours and sadly ours alone;
Good friends, though, mitigate the dread,
Of life too fast, and end unknow.

Chin up ;-) ,

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