there are things on heaven and earth that move me

what are these things that move me,
trace bundy
kevin O,

they are new or in the general scope of humanity very small ..

have a look, things of beauty, moments in time, more so than before they suddenly move me. It must be the golden syrup of nostalgia and memories seeping into my ever existence. I realize my life has become fragmented through the motions of my thoughts, slowly slicing and dicing and placing memories and future dreams and current events, binding them like a broken mosaic.

Strange when we look back and across we somehow see different things and the pieces somehow don't really line up.  I look back in time, well not really i stare at fleeting images in my mind, I get starkly reminded by images I see around me; printed ones, electronic ones. Something inside me wells up, something unbeknownst to me. I see images of a past that is vaguely reminiscent of my own life, I see images of a life I do not recognize, I see faces and places filled with memories, some mine, some others and some belonging to a social consciousness that I am only a small part of, all these fragments are floating slowly together and others are drifting into the haze. The purple glazes our existence, our consciousness taking shorter or longer dips into the un-reality of this state.

I wonder if the path we choose is it the yellow brick road? Sometimes our mind wants us to believe we have taken the wrong route, other times we know we have, sometimes we know ti is the right path, but most times we wonder around in abject confusion, into the grey mists of our human existence we go, slowly unraveling the past and origins. I apologize, but I do have to return to a previous point where we do have to consider what is it that builds the fabric of our existence? Can this be likened to the nature or nurture debate in evolution? I suspect for some of us the threads used to weave our existence and grubby with the lives of people who are long gone, at other times the tapestry of our lives is woven with new threads.

And the internal welling of emotion never  ceases to amaze me, is this something that was locked deeply inside behind a stone wall. How i have slowly chipped away at that mortar, only to find tightly wound packages, each day, each week, each month
I open a new piece of my life, why did I lock this off, or did life lock me within the confines of these walls.
I stare at photographs, strange memories come welling back. I know full well we are the object of our own actions, but sometimes we feel bound by the cords of life, these long sinewy threads that run through our lives. At times they are broken at other times they stop us failing, yet on the same hand they confine us and give us that most fancifully stated  inertia. How is it that we can start living once again? Do we live in tranches of year bundles. Is it wise to move in 10 year bundles to make changes in our existence. Is it time for a new career if possible, somehow we stand on a knife edge of responsibility and adventure in life, I suppose we have to start with the small steps towards the door, without that inertia we will never leave the room let alone the house.

On something more material, why does brown flour bread really struggle so much? I suppose it is obvious, but it just gets me every time I bake the damned brown bread ;-) So where does the adventure take us next, firstly within the mind, the recesses of the mind, the ants go marching one by one huraa..  don't stop, don't fall, It could be that we have to live within fragments of the life we have created and called our own. How do we achieve these small and fantastical things without embarking on the voyage of our lives, what si it that binds some of us to the material, the ethical, emotional and does not free us from the chains we have bound ourselves with. Yea though i wonder down the road of uncertainty give me the strength to take the next step, to not be scared of the dark corners and ghouls, their chains rattle in the corners of our minds. I walk towards the end of the road, not knowing or seeing the path nor the destination.
I just have to remember the words of marshal m^3 .. I'm not afraid to take a stand, its been a ride I guess i had to go that place to get this place .. yes it is cliched, but I would at least want to keep a common thread throughout this journey of my life.

In general the fantastic still amazes me, the unreal, the existence of an alternative reality that does not really exist other than in our minds.  But all we know is onwards and upwards.

We stand once again at a cusp of decisions, now not later, more not less, live not cower in the shadows we fear so much, hold onto the the light.

"I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain."
--- Frank Herbert, Dune - Bene Gesserit Litany Against Fear



"Fear makes the wolf bigger than he is."
---- German Proverb

We get drawn down the rabbit hole of fear, at times we revolt, other times we cower and hide, paralyzed like a dear in headlights.  It is difficult to determine why we are bound to this primal and debilitating emotion. I will walk along this path I fear and go forth into the unknown world.

and of all of them Banksy always moves me most :-)