Wednesday, 4 November 2015

What tales which, already passed, will endure within these five books...

thank God for surprises.

How bland life would indeed be if all the map were visible at the outset.

Of the many things I've come to learn, there is one I Am more certain of now than ever before:

This Life of mine, for all its warts...

its jagged edges & unfinished highways...

This Life of mine is finally mine.

And ne'er again will I hand it over to another.

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This poem was the first entry of a new journal several years ago, shortly after I had made the impossible choice to firebomb my life so that I might have a chance at building my Life.

As you may have noticed by the time of this entry, building this new Life was not easy. I was living in two dear friends' garage at this point, and had woken up early to beat LA traffic over the hill from the Valley.

What followed was a process of more than a few million journaled words, culminating in a technique of self-reflection which made me into the human being I always knew was 'in there somewhere'.

If this piece resonated with you, here are a few others you may also enjoy:

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Thank you for taking the time to read my story. If you enjoyed it, please leave a heart, and I'm always grateful for any feedback in the comments.