Confused was a slight understatement to what Gusty was feeling at the moment. He had not really had any idea what he expected Sootsayra to divulge, but somehow this had not really entered the realm of possibility. But then again nothing about Gusty’s current situation actually entered into the realm of possibility, despite its seeming to be happening. Gusty was leaning back towards the idea that one of his own screws was so loose that he had lost his marbles.

A question percolated through the confusion, but got lost just as Gusty opened his mouth to ask it. The next thought was stronger, and Gusty raised his finger to firmly state his idea, but it again got lost before it reached his mouth. Gusty took hold of himself and prepared to adamantly say the next thought that made it through, only to once again find his mouth emptily flapping. A thought finally managed to lodge in his head firmly. This thought said “Gusty, you need to sit down!” Gusty, thinking this was wise advice, heeded it and sat down in the chair behind him. It took him only a moment to remember that Sootsayra was actually sitting in the only chair in the room. Unfortunately the memory surfaced at roughly the same time as his bottom hit the floor.

By this time Sootsayra was once again gasping and grunting. The shock of landing knocked some sense back into Gusty, and he found himself laughing right along with Sootsayra. It was not the answer he had expected, but somehow it seemed the right answer. Before long he had tears in his eyes and was rolling on the floor, barely able to breathe himself. Finally both of them managed to regain control. Gusty remained sitting on the floor, looking up at Sootsayra’s amazing eyes that were filled with a glorious mixture of wisdom and humor. The sense of previous meeting as well as a question waiting to be asked returned to Gusty, stronger than before. But he was no longer quite as confused, even if he still had no answers.

“I have to ask,” Gusty said a little breathlessly, “why would you do something like that?”

Sootsayra once again gave Gusty one of those piercing looks. And again slightly nodded, answering another unasked question. “That is the right question to ask, youngling!” Sootsayra’s voice, still gravelly, this time had a hint of what almost sounded like approval. Gusty wouldn’t swear to it though. He wasn’t all that fond of being called youngling, but then again compared to who stood before him, Gusty deemed it a fair label. He waited for more, but that seemed all that was coming.

“And the answer?” Gusty pressed.

Sootsayra just watched Gusty for a while. Almost as if testing him. Deciding that is exactly what was happening here, Gusty mutely accepted the challenge. He could be very patient when he chose to be. It often surprised people how much will power he had when he chose to use it. If anything, he more often had a problem with won’t power. Most saw his easy going nature as softness. Gusty could be quite firm, even stubborn, if he felt he had reason enough to be. He settled into a comfortable position on the floor, relaxed his breathing, and silently eyed Sootsayra back, waiting to see what would happen.

This is a theme I often use in my attempts at writing on this blog, but it is by no means an original idea. Words have the power to raise a person beyond their perceived limits; or to send them into the depths. A simple word can start a war … or end it. Skilled use of words is one of the most powerful tools a mind can possess, and thus should always be encouraged within anyone, especially those who doubt their own abilities. This is true for adults as well as children, but since children are still just starting to find their place in the world, encouragement for them is a simple must.

That said, sometimes when I am feeling lost in the world, I find that words escape me. I struggle to get the simplest sentence out, and often find that I cannot even remotely express what I truly wish to share. As much power as words have … sometimes they are wholly inadequate.

So why am I putting together a collection of words to express why words are failing me?

That is a good question. And I am not sure I actually know the answer myself. Maybe by forcing myself to work with their power I will find my place again.

Oddly this ramble was brought on by this week’s 100 WORD Challenge For Grown Ups. I had no intention of getting all wordy in my wordlessness. My intent was to get the one or two people who occasionally happen across my blog to go visit the original 100 Word Challenge, one geared to young writer’s out there. Since I don’t seem to have words of encouragement in me at the moment, maybe I can (ironically) encourage others to visit and give support to the young practitioners of word power.

For someone who is at a loss for words, a lot of words seem to be pouring forth. Hmmm. Maybe while they are choosing to use me as their vessel (since as far as I can tell I am not the one writing them) I should also attempt the challenge. So here goes. I take no responsibility for what may emerge. The words are on their own today!

“You …” he began, tears streaming down his face.
“… bought …” he continued, almost gasping the word out.
“… her …” he murmured putting all his love for her into the word.
“… what …” he said firmly, determined to finish.

But then his emotion overwhelmed him, and for a moment he could no longer speak. He cradled her pain wracked body to his chest, his blissful smile an odd counterpoint. He gasped again through his own pain. With impressive effort, he got the rest out. “… exactly what she needed!” he winced. The effort made him cough.

“ Time!!” he finished with a peaceful sigh.

…..

P.S. HAPPY ‘BIG-O’ JULIA!!

When these doubts assail me, I often find myself escaping from the realities that I eventually must face. I lose myself in an epic novel; watch movies and shows; get immersed in socializing with folks I do not really even know. It is as if I am seeking the correct path of my life by seeing how others live theirs … or at least imagine it could be lived.

Unfortunately sometimes these other lives become so seductive that it is easy to lose yourself in them, forgetting who we are in the process. This seduction becomes more powerful when one is in a non-stable part of their life, when one is struggling up a particularly difficult portion of their chosen path and wondering if they should turn back.

In my recent bout of escapism, I have frequently encountered the ideas “live each day as if it will be your last” and “live for the moment”. To some this may appear how I live my life, and at one time that WAS how I lived it. Once I thought these words were wisdom. But now, either because I have actually gained some wisdom, or simply got older and more experienced, I see the flaw in both ideas.

The simple truth of the matter is in my belief system, life has no purpose. Life simply is. Therefore we can not actually find purpose in our lives. We need to create it ourselves. And this is done by the choices we make, and by firmly following the paths we choose to follow. Now “live each day as if it will be your last”, and “live for the moment” on the surface seem to fulfill this concept, they suggest find what joy you can in  life now while you can. But I find that they both actually have a rather pessimistic point of view, and both kind of ignore the concept of consequences. What they really say is : live in hedonistic pleasure now because tomorrow we die … and therefore we do not have to face the consequences of our actions today.

I suggest that maybe we should live each day as if it were our FIRST; to fully live IN the moment. By living IN the moment we don’t just seek pleasure, but seek to fully embrace the moment we are in, WHATEVER that moment offers. And if we live each day as if it were our FIRST, we would never lose the wonder of encountering something for the first time. We would know that tomorrow is another day that follows today with more wonders to be found. Don’t expect to die tomorrow. Expect to LIVE tomorrow. Allow the choices you make today to make tomorrow a new day of wonder!

Maybe this way opens ourselves to a certain amount of pain and discomfort. So be it. It is the negatives in life that make the positives stand out. So my personal reminder from this bit of sophistry is simply this :

LIVE TODAY! CREATE TOMORROW!

Five minds shared a dream. One mind untouchable by shadow; one thriving on it. Three minds falling in between. One feminine mind, four masculine. Five disparate minds; five minds sharing only a basic similarity in the fact that they were human (even if one had strayed far from his original humanity). Together they built a refuge at once real and surreal. It smacked of comfort, yet it was laced through with prodding nettles, leaching away that comfort. To all the surroundings appeared as a peaceful swimming hole; a place of idyllic memories and contentment. Four fondly recognized this place even if there was a hint to it of something … not right. One found echoes in it; echoes of ancient memories long lain dormant. Echoes of a time before when he was something less; something more.

Yet it was as if this was a bright island in a dark … nothingness. And the brightness was flickering on and off at an almost imperceptible rate. Shadow and light seeking dominance, the light seeming the stronger but the barely perceptible instances of shadow causing a subtle sense of … horror. One did not understand this strange, invasive subliminal feeling. Three felt fear growing in them for no easily discernible reason; water boiling in a kettle with no heat to be seen. And one embraced. Savored.

The idyllic island shifted, becoming a subtle mockery of itself. Scenes of battle began emerging, flickering barely caught images of strife. Here creatures of shadow overwhelmed; there creatures of light shone like beacons of hope. They built a steady image of battle without specific details to be remembered. Light and shadow began taking a formless shape, grotesquely altering the place of seeming comfort into something unrecognizable. Shadow seemed to surround one dreamer, light another. The rest were tugged back and forth between the two.The three with growing fear seemed drawn to the one of shadow. The kettle neared a boil. The core of shadow rejoiced; drew them further in. Then shadow gathered itself and shot a piercing spear of darkness at the beacon of light.

And light shrugged it off as if the spear did not exist.

With a screaming whistle the boiling water released. The pressure in the kettle eased. Fear melted. Three on the verge joined together and flowed back to the light. Light that took the form of an odd charm, with a radiant star in its middle. Shadow howled in fury and …

Woke himself up. The Shadow Lord had indulged the dream for the simple novelty of having one again. But the shape of this dream was unacceptable to him. Dreams were a mind that had lost control. Shadow Lords thrived on control. This dream could not be. Yet somehow it was. The puzzle was getting unexpectedly complicated.

Removing himself released the communal nature of the dream. Ed, Nolly and Merry shifted into their own dreams, eventually slipping into dreamless, restful sleep. Rayson, however, snapped awake. The candle he had lit was a small stump now, almost to the point where it would become a fire hazard. Concerning as this was, he barely noticed, absently blowing the candle out. He knew that something important had just happened, though he could not quite figure out why it was important. The dream was etched in his mind in a way that gave it extra significance. He quickly turned the Dream Charm “off”. Totu needed to see this. He schooled his mind to relax again, hoping that he would have no more dreams for the rest of the night. Which seemed a likelihood because sleep was eluding him.

Morning could not come soon enough.

The challenge: to Critique one of last week’s pieces (in 100 words of course).

I have to admit, when I took a look at this weeks challenge, my first instinct was to give it a pass. To me critiquing has an element of arrogance to it; it says that I am claiming the right to criticize another’s work as if I have some special claim to skill or knowledge. I don’t do critiques.

My second and third instinct agreed with the first. My fourth instinct said have another look. My fifth instinct liked what my first three instincts had to say. My sixth and seventh instinct had an argument about it. By now my sense of irreverence took over and sent all my instincts packing, loudly shouting “We can have fun with this!” So here I am, attempting the challenge, despite my instincts.

I apologize in advance for the tongue in cheek nature of my critique … but that is the only way I can in good conscience do one! I pretty much randomly picked Mile High Meltdown on Midlife Singlemum. Poor you!

With the exciting title, “Mile High Meltdown” I had great expectations from this piece and I was not at all disappointed. Mile High Meltdown had a little bit for all audiences, impressive in just one hundred words. The piece also admirably fulfilled the terms of the challenge set, using all the words effectively. So if you want a bit of heart racing excitement, sarcastic humor, attitude and even a “cow” with poor fashion sense, pop over and read this clever bit. You will be glad to know it also has a happy ending! Definitely well worth the read!

I once again want to move the world. I want to leave a mark today.

But the simple truth of the matter is … I am not Martin Luther King. I am no great orator with the power to shift hearts. As I said in the About Me of my new photo blog (gotta get in that gratuitous self promotion), “I am just an ordinary guy who occasionally gets a glimpse of the extraordinary. Sometimes I am able to express my glimpses in words. Sometimes in photos.”

By the Holocaust Memorial in Boston. Seemed appropriate for this post somehow.

So how do I make my mark? How do I move people? How do I change the world?

I’ll tell you how. One small deed at a time. For instance, I can help watch my niece for a few weeks, while my sister explores the world, and learns something of dehumanized humans; allowing her to step on a path that will someday maybe help teach tolerance on a grand scale … for she has that power. Or maybe I can do something even simpler, and give a lonely child some attention.

We are not all movers and shakers. We cannot all grasp and hold the attention of the whole world. But that does not mean we are powerless. Every moment we have the ability … and the chance … to improve the world around us, even if only one little bit at a time. Acceptance; tolerance; love … these start with individuals. First we need to open our own hearts. Then we need to share however we can with others. Smile when another is frowning. Offer a hand to someone who can’t get up. If you can’t be the one who moves mountains, then move a pebble instead. If everyone capable of moving a pebble does so, that mountain will be shifted in no time. But if we all wait until the mighty mountain mover comes along … well … it could be a long wait.

Once again patterns are emerging. But this time they are as much patterns of things yet to be as things that already are. Today, on Friday the 13th, as we are heading to exit 13, driving in the fog, the world  emerges one little bit at a time. A feeling of mystique; of pending magic and creation waiting to happen permeates my very being.

We arrive at the Nu Cafe. And it is new to me.

A thought reemerges from earlier. When, exactly, do our opinions become our own, and not the product of our parent’s, or the other strong influences of our life?

The buzzer moos at me (who knew buzzers moo?). My sandwich is ready.

Another thought in the whirlwind spins by again. It is time to make my mark on the world; time to reclaim my inner nomad. But how? That too a conversation on Facebook.

Over the meal my sister and I talk about walking, but with purpose.

Purpose. Purpose.

The sandwich is tasty.

My brother-in-law joins us. We continue to eat. And talk. Taxes. Snow. Mom and dad. Future possibilities. Past occurrences.

A pleasant bit o’ jazz guitar. A cool wall fountain.

The storm whirls. The thoughts spin in and out. I am in the center. And it whirls around me.

I catch the fresh scent of possibility again.

My soul tingles with electric potential as the sun now shines in through the skylight above.

Discussion of lives at their endings as my sister and brother-n-law head out the door to help guide some lives in their beginnings. I am left in the midst of life in the now – ing. Music. Voices chattering in many languages. The song of the cafe in the background.

Where have I come from? Where am I going next?

Look out world! I am back!

OK, maybe I am exaggerating a bit on the shy and unassuming part.

I have had a photo site “in development” for some time. Even have a link to it somewhere over there ← (or if you are really curious you can click here). It is a kind of cool site if ya like special effects. But there are a few drawbacks. Little option for feedback. No way of tracking, difficult to update (if fun to play with), and apparently very slow loading. So to brazenly share my skill with a camera (if in fact I actually have any skill with a camera) I am now also starting a photo blog on WordPress called Thru My Eyes (as was the other site), I will frequently post decent photos, old and new, on a regular basis. And maybe when I get enough pics there I will be able to steal my own pics off the internet for use on my other blog posts!

So if anyone out there wants the pleasure of a thousand words without having to read a one (soooo much less effort that way), take a peek over at:

thru my eyes

expressing life through the power of photos

I have to admit nothing jumped out at me at the first glimpse of the challenge. Then I made the mistake of reading some of those already written … all brilliant, and taking all the good ideas too … before attempting something on my own, and now I am wondering what I will manage to come up with. This time it will be as much a surprise to me as anyone reading it. Ok, here goes:

“I am aghast!” he said rather snootily. Personally I think he was overreacting a bit. After all we were basically speaking the same language. Just a few differences here and there. The way he acted, you would think I just crawled out from under a rock.

My irreverent nature took over again and I said “Gesundheit!”

I mean what was the big deal? He said “It is that aquamarine aeroplane over there.” All I answered was “Do you mean that blue airplane?” Good thing he did not ask what it was made of. I might have shocked him by saying … ‘ALUMINUM!’

I might be taking my life in my own hands with this one. Especially since many of the participants in this wonderful challenge are from across the big pond and thus speak “correct” English To me it is truly fascinating … and sometimes amusing … how the same language can in some ways be so different just by changing the location it is spoken in. And we are not even involving accents this time. Hope nobody gets offended!

Progress Reports:

• RAYSON’S story
• Previous word count:    44263
• Chapter:     13
• Current word count:      45507
• Chapter:      14

• GUSTY’S story
• Previous word count:     22333
• Chapter:      16     
• Current word count:      22364
• Chapter:      16