Plastic Flowers
this is how writing helps to bring forth difficult knots into the light of day to be loosened with psyche’s teeth and my faith in the process.
I am fascinated with people, and have, in an odd way, been honing my ability as an observer without realizing it, until now. There is no judgement here. My intention with this offering is that you will find delight, inspiration, and perhaps recognize a part of yourself in some of these essays.
If I should manage to draw you into the deepness, the richness of our shared humanity, then I would be the happiest.
this is how writing helps to bring forth difficult knots into the light of day to be loosened with psyche’s teeth and my faith in the process.
If I can make even one person feel supported, like I’m speaking their language, then it’s all worth it; this is why I am on the planet.
as if we were to blame for having been around to have suffered it; our struggle, a dismissible inconvenience.
The moment when you might realize that the story does not serve you and you can free yourself from it, then you are awake not only to yourself, but to the broader loving universe, to what matters.
it is as if the pure energy of your conversation completes a circuit that helps to power the world, as if God needed a thought to be worked through, to be spoken out loud.
Then, what was essentially a giddy child in the body of a grown man, used a remote to drive a robot out of the truck–the robot, the size of a rototiller on tracks, with arms that worked, and a camera, and the man was getting paid for this!
I would glance into my rear view mirror and see people come out of the Canadian Tire, with cans of paint, cement trowels, whatever they needed for whatever project they were tackling that day; collecting their points, going about their lives.