Canvas

I have come to learn more and more about the work of an artist, and how they search and search for inspiration in their lives...of how they search for people, places and purpose in life, all for the love of finding a moment, an instinct, a spark of inspiration...all in the hope that they can sum up all their thoughts, views, opinions and ideas of a particular subject, or perhaps of all subjects in general...trying to capture all of this, on a perfectly clean canvas.

But finding the correct subject matter to capture can be hard sometimes...and sometimes everything and everyone fights so hard in Life to become part of a glorious artwork, trying to portray themselves as the perfect muse, able to inspire the imagination of the artist, trying to ignite a thought, a spark of wonder, a divine connection within the artist...trying to draw themselves closer to the artist, hoping that the grand talent will capture their presence, their aura, their own mystical self in the brilliance and magnificence of a painting, unknown, unnamed, undecided and unexplored by the thought of a man, untamed by society, untouched and unharmed by the palette knives of Life...But in truth, the artist remains unmoved and his thoughts unchained, fixed to the inhabitance and independence of his own majestic overture playing in the freedom of his mind, the prelude to his masterpiece, the crescendo of his development...his dream...his growth...his journey...of a thought.

I have found that the same applies in life...in lives...my life...that there are times when people slowly find themselves getting tired of forming the frame of your life, and find themselves left with the urge, the deep desire to form part of the picture...So if you find yourself in a place of indecision, and things spin out of control...think of this...if life is a canvas, and your time and place the frame...then the only person who can decide who and what goes into the picture, is the painter, the artist...the creative, imaginative...YOU.

Drowning

There are points we reach in our life, when we stop and realize that we've actually managed to fool ourselves and everyone around us into thinking that everything is fine, that we're coping, under all the pressure, we're managing, getting by one step at a time. Until we take another look at ourselves in the distorted reflection of who we are in the passing ripples in the deep, deep waters surrounding us, and we realize that even with the wake of a future hoped for, a past forgotten, and a present engaged, we realize that with or without the noise in the water, we don't recognize ourselves, and for a brief moment coming to the frightening realization that we don't even know how we got so far from the shore and how we've moved in so deep, and beyond the shock of the awakening, fanning our hands out and vigorously waving our arms to any passer by to see us, to find us, despising the smiles and the friendly gestures, simply because they couldn't possibly understand that we're not here waving...we're drowning...

Somehow the rough waters of Life have the tendency to just pull us in deeper and deeper into it's violent seas, and without even a moments notice, we can find ourselves too deep into the rocky coasts of confusion without anything to hold onto...and like the sea, Life can wash us around and around in it's rough waters, pushing and shoving, tumbling and turning, throwing us around like little buoys in the ocean...But here's the thing about buoys...through the stormy weather and the restless waters of a raging sea, they manage to stay afloat no matter what.

So here I am...floating...drifting by and by, being tossed around by the waves of Life on the waters of actuation...And I find myself taking a moment to realize this - That in Life, no matter how deep the waters go, no matter hard you are tossed and turned by the crashing of mighty waves, the point is that you continue the fight to stay afloat. Because even like random pieces of debris and driftwood find their way back to land, so too we all eventually, at some point or another find our way back to the shore...

Haven

I have found that there are places, little spaces in this world, that were built and designed long ago, that make us feel safe, secure, special and comforted...some of these places are hidden from us, while others fully exposed. Like safe houses for the lost or broken, we can run towards them and find that all the cares of the world simply vanish in an instant from the moment we enter into the domain, and wrap ourselves in the warmth and comfort found within that space, surrounding ourselves with the love found in that one place, that special place...a haven just for one...

There are beacons in this world that we find along shorelines, standing tall on cliff edges, that shine their lights as far into the seas as they can, to warn and guide ships of the approaching land...they are the things that guide ships to safety, sailors to refuge, warn you of the coming dangers and protect you from them...yes, even lighthouses, simple structures, can be called by the same name...haven...

Now I have reached a place in my life, where I feel safe, where I feel comfortable, where I feel the warmth of love and the generosity of kindness. A place that I can go to, where my thoughts can be guided toward safety, and my heart can be steered away from harm. Yes, I have found my safe house, my refuge, and sometimes a place for my heart to call home...yes I have found my haven, except...my haven is a lot more simple, and bares a few my layers, has great potential, and a lot more room to grow...and sure enough I certainly don't call my heart's home haven...my haven is called by another name...

Pros & Cons

I've come to learn that life and living cannot be divided into two sections...black and white...and that not all decisions can be as simple as right or wrong...and that sometimes we cannot base our choices on weighing the options of pros and cons...instead it's all about who you are, where you find yourself in life, what your willing to live with and how long you're willing to live like that for.

Having learned a little bit about responsibility and sacrifice, I have somehow managed to develop a sense of prediction, a gift of discernment, and have grown my prowess in being able to read much more into people and situations than the average person. And having learnt all of this I have been able to make clear, conscious decisions about what I want out of life and which direction I am heading in. And along the way in discovering and nurturing these gifts, I have structured a system of rules and prerequisites, which along my travels in life, measures I have put in place to enable me to make, not the right choice, but the most suitable ones.

But the Scales of Life has never wished to be controlled by any man walking along it's rocky and narrow pathways, or having the ability to predetermine it's actions, or being able to tilt the the balance of fate itself in the direction you would like to see it loom. Yes, sometimes our decisions in life cannot simply be seen in black and white, cannot be judged by good or bad, and won't always be able to be weighed up and calculated according to it's pros and cons. Because here's the catch, the curve ball, the snag...sometimes the best decisions, the brightest futures, the greatest loves of all time will tilt the Scales of Life the wrong way...because what happens if the cons outweigh the pros? Are you willing to leave the best version of you standing there, or willing to make the sacrifice, take up the challenge and turn the cons into pros? Sometimes life isn't just about one of two choices, sometimes the road less traveled can be the greatest journey ever taken...and the best decision ever made.

Distance

Sometimes no matter how hard you try, no matter how outrageously and hopelessly in denial you want to place yourself in, there are just some things you cannot change, some things you have to accept, some things you have to realize, leave it be and perhaps...move on. It’s an empty space, a sort of measure of nothingness between two people, a divide that cannot be conquered or covered...no...sometimes the one thing keeping two from ever having that spark, that connection...is Distance.

It amazes me how sometimes two people can grow as close as any two people can ever get, share the same space for long periods of time, connect on every possible level ever, share every possible thought that they ever possibly can, know what each other’s thoughts are without even saying anything, but somehow, yes somehow there’s a void, a space between them, a constant divide that keeps them apart...Distance. What makes it worse is the fact that once you’ve had that connection before, and you know what it feels like, and you know what it’s meant to be like between two people, and suddenly when you’re moving onto something new, and it simply does not exist there...that...connection...then you realize how wide the space is between you two, and you realize that there isn’t a thing in the world that could possibly bring you together, so all you do is close your eyes and for a moment you pretend...just pretend it’s there...the connection between the Distance...nothing more than a naive hope...the imaginary connection, but still...Distance. And there’s nothing worse than getting an intimate hug, or a gentle kiss, and taking a short moment and realizing...there it is again...the cold shiver creeping up your spine, the dark divide, the unoccupied space, the emptiness...Distance.

Then the question that remains is this...Is it okay to simply pretend, to make a sacrifice in love, hoping that someday, sooner or later, the gap will close up, and that two people will grow closer, more together, more like one...or would it be healthier to realize that there are some connections that cannot be rediscovered simply by hoping that time will bridge the gap through the art of pretence, and it would simply be better to break a non-existent connection, before one day you realize that you’ve wasted your time, and end up with nothing more than regret? Then the answer is simple...something you cannot deny...that the only connection that will ever become the most prominent one, is not commonality...but Distance.

Perfect Timing

So someone once told me that we can’t all be perfect all of the time, and perhaps, against my better understanding of the term, to a point, can be true. However, we live in a world that is constantly changing, always evolving and always pushing the boundaries and limitations set upon it by society, nature, time and space. But here’s the thing about perfection, or perhaps about being perfected...is that people change and so do opinions, depending on the time, the place and conditions that they find themselves in, and depending on the things that influence the very fibre of their being, and sooner or later what was bad today is good tomorrow, or what once was flawed is seen as perfected today. So perhaps the question we should be asking ourselves, isn’t whether we’re perfect or not, it’s about how more than imperfect we are at the time.

Produce in a garden can never truly be predictable, unless we are 100% sure of the time it takes for them to grow, the conditions under which they will grow better and faster, the place they need to be located in order to grow at all, the season they are willing to grow in, and to what proportions they will grow to, which is also dependant on how much space they have, and until you can predict all of this, until you can get all of this right, until you allow yourself to grasp the concept and understand the process of a harvest of perfection, you’ll never be able to get things ripe. Yes, a harvest of perfect fruits can, at some point, be achieved if everything that makes up the perfect timing for ripening, are granted to the seed, then perhaps perfection isn’t that farfetched an idea to the farmer who must learn to be patient to grow. Then think of smooth, velvety, red wine that seems to grow more perfect and better with age. It takes a long time to get the ingredients right, and the process of growing the grapes perfectly, under the right conditions, during the right seasons, and in the right place, squeezing them all under the right amount of pressure, storing them all in the right wooden crate, adding just a touch of the right flavours, and waiting just the right amount of time to displace the lot into individual bottles, then sealing the bottle with the right cork, then leaving it in just the right space for time and passing to perfect it kindly, waiting patiently for the right patron to come by who hopefully will learn to place it under the right temperature until that person has found the perfect taste to pair up with that perfectly aged wine to linger on a perfectly selected pallet, and hopefully you’ll find yourself sipping on the perfect glass of wine. You see sometimes it’s not about being perfect that counts, but the long and hard process of being perfected. Are we not perhaps being too harsh on ourselves, by saying that we’re not or at least far from perfect? Perhaps we grow more into our own perfect selves with each passing second, or moment, or day?

No...perfection and imperfection is all about timing, all about location, all about the conditions and the people in that time and place. Perhaps that’s all life really is about, perfection and perfecting us until we are ripe and ready to pass on into another life, another lifetime, to perfect us for our passing on. For in truth nature is all about balance and imbalance, and you cannot for long have perfection in that space. So maybe there is a moment, a time and place for you to reach perfection in the eyes of a less than perfect person in a less than perfect space, but it will never last forever, so no we can’t all be perfect all the time, but we can grow to be more perfect every time. And perhaps one day we’ll reach perfection, even for a brief moment, but it’s never meant to last. So don’t give up trying to be happy, after all, isn’t Happiness perfection’s perfect place?

I am...RIGHT NOW...

So lately I've been wondering about the concepts of individuality and individuation, and I've stumbled upon a question that leaves me pondering upon a few thoughts. Can we truly call ourselves unique, or ever really consider ourselves as 'individuals' in a world saturated and riddled with influence, can we really?

I once heard someone tell me that we grow more into ourselves, but that bodes another question, and that is, who is this 'self' that we so strongly yearn to be, and fight so hard against social influence and peer association, who is this person, this 'self' that we're meant to be? Aren't we perhaps expecting too much from our 'selfs' and is it really as good as who we are willing to be? At the end of the day, there's never really anything good about settling, but sometimes, isn't it better to accept what you have right now, who you are right now, and perhaps realize and acknowledge that the current version of you is perhaps a touch better than any BETA you? That perhaps the latter you is not quite as good as the former, and that sometimes going backwards is the best way forward?

So the final question I guess is this. Who are we really, and who are we meant to be, if all that we are right now, are but pieces of our past, habits of our present, results of experiences, remnants of loves lost, and the broken whole of a hoped for future which you hope to be better than the future you've already imagined in your past, or as good as the present you never expected, and perhaps even better than the future of your past? Is this perhaps as good as it will ever get?