i keep looking at it.. I want to know if there was a story..in the absence of one.. I created one, brought a small ship to harbor, tied it up, doubled it and sat on the edge looking out to sea
I love your idea of a small ship (another useful metaphor) and that by anchoring you can stop, hold things steady long enough to search the horizon for another destination or some inner peace – our true destination.
The sea, for me conjures up many feelings; sometimes powerful surges of hope, sometimes deeper yearning to be somewhere else, to escape to another shore, but how do we escape back to the open sea and fresh wind again? All I ask for is a boat… maybe I’d call her Karma… and a few stars to steer her by. The story could then be a universal one, like this: http://www.morealleandminar.wordpress.com
My boat goes unnamed…my story more personal..less universal.. and i anchor with a steel bolt and chain…the sea…tis always the sea and can be a lonely place… will get back to you on this saga you have produced. :)
The sea also a mystery, one I could never fully fathom. Steel bolt and chain suggests strong and unbreakable. :)
one would always hope..they do make bolt cutters though…
That’s true….and there are no safe havens to moor up to either. I’ve seen piers collapse before me. And it’s nice to see your link of the Anchor shot…thank you
no safe havens? please do explain
Literally, the pier I was standing on – apparently built to withstand everything – crumbled and surrendered under the surging power of the tide.
For me it reaffirmed that if we hold onto anything; its a holding to the ever-changing center of things. We cannot hold back the tide, not ultimately.
And it’s not anti-anchor, hope you understand. I understand the need to be rooted in stillness by any means possible. I feel that, in a very personal way, every day walking out the front door and not knowing what lays ahead. We are maybe in the same boat here?
There is no tempering nature that’s for sure. Perhaps we are, not quite sure. I am anchored by my belief in God, that for me is the center of the ever changing. I just seemed to have lost myself in a sea of people. I lost my voice along the way. Just imagine if I say I lost my voice and this is how I am. I am a pier that crumbles almost daily sorta speak. I need, or perhaps desire, a physical anchor. I think they call that kinship, brotherhood, family. maybe I am rambling now…
Tonight insomnia, kinship and ramblings makes me smile.
Just read ‘just a feeling’ and say this… don’t give up. We feel flattened by experience and from those who hurt us. Much of this effects me too. I’ve gone to extremes to shake it off, but as a sufferer of depression, I’ll never forget what a fellow suffer told me, “the next thought could be the way out of here”. I’m sure he didn’t mean suicide, hope he didn’t but maybe he did. But to me the sentiment is a affirmation for a belief in one self.
As for faith, I feel, to my marrow, that life does has meaning: the one you have courage to give it. By dipping into your poetry I can see you have no problem here.
:) He may very well have, but I, too, hope he did not. I haven’t given up anything as of yet.. just a passing feeling. They come, they go, tears fall, insomnia ensues, a little random shaking. ;)
Its good to know you see it as transient. The sea of people that surround you, are they there for you? Are these your anchors too?
they seem more like buoys than anchors. that could just be the nature of my state at the moment and/or my perception…but they sure dont feel like anchors..
What helps you to recover your voice?
not quite sure to be honest..
I believe that perhaps nibbling on ginger biscuits has helped. :)
Oh crumbs!
is that bad?
Not at all. I’m just employing puns. Silly ones I admit.
i keep looking at it.. I want to know if there was a story..in the absence of one.. I created one, brought a small ship to harbor, tied it up, doubled it and sat on the edge looking out to sea
I love your idea of a small ship (another useful metaphor) and that by anchoring you can stop, hold things steady long enough to search the horizon for another destination or some inner peace – our true destination.
The sea, for me conjures up many feelings; sometimes powerful surges of hope, sometimes deeper yearning to be somewhere else, to escape to another shore, but how do we escape back to the open sea and fresh wind again? All I ask for is a boat… maybe I’d call her Karma… and a few stars to steer her by. The story could then be a universal one, like this:
http://www.morealleandminar.wordpress.com
My boat goes unnamed…my story more personal..less universal.. and i anchor with a steel bolt and chain…the sea…tis always the sea and can be a lonely place… will get back to you on this saga you have produced. :)
The sea also a mystery, one I could never fully fathom. Steel bolt and chain suggests strong and unbreakable. :)
one would always hope..they do make bolt cutters though…
That’s true….and there are no safe havens to moor up to either. I’ve seen piers collapse before me. And it’s nice to see your link of the Anchor shot…thank you
no safe havens? please do explain
Literally, the pier I was standing on – apparently built to withstand everything – crumbled and surrendered under the surging power of the tide.
For me it reaffirmed that if we hold onto anything; its a holding to the ever-changing center of things. We cannot hold back the tide, not ultimately.
And it’s not anti-anchor, hope you understand. I understand the need to be rooted in stillness by any means possible. I feel that, in a very personal way, every day walking out the front door and not knowing what lays ahead. We are maybe in the same boat here?
There is no tempering nature that’s for sure. Perhaps we are, not quite sure. I am anchored by my belief in God, that for me is the center of the ever changing. I just seemed to have lost myself in a sea of people. I lost my voice along the way. Just imagine if I say I lost my voice and this is how I am. I am a pier that crumbles almost daily sorta speak. I need, or perhaps desire, a physical anchor. I think they call that kinship, brotherhood, family. maybe I am rambling now…
Tonight insomnia, kinship and ramblings makes me smile.
Just read ‘just a feeling’ and say this… don’t give up. We feel flattened by experience and from those who hurt us. Much of this effects me too. I’ve gone to extremes to shake it off, but as a sufferer of depression, I’ll never forget what a fellow suffer told me, “the next thought could be the way out of here”. I’m sure he didn’t mean suicide, hope he didn’t but maybe he did. But to me the sentiment is a affirmation for a belief in one self.
As for faith, I feel, to my marrow, that life does has meaning: the one you have courage to give it. By dipping into your poetry I can see you have no problem here.
:) He may very well have, but I, too, hope he did not. I haven’t given up anything as of yet.. just a passing feeling. They come, they go, tears fall, insomnia ensues, a little random shaking. ;)
Its good to know you see it as transient. The sea of people that surround you, are they there for you? Are these your anchors too?
they seem more like buoys than anchors. that could just be the nature of my state at the moment and/or my perception…but they sure dont feel like anchors..
What helps you to recover your voice?
not quite sure to be honest..
I believe that perhaps nibbling on ginger biscuits has helped. :)
Oh crumbs!
is that bad?
Not at all. I’m just employing puns. Silly ones I admit.