I remember feeling the early morning sun on the side of my face.  It was very warm but a mild breeze kept its heat from becoming uncomfortable.  The other memory that remains firmly in my mind is the way the yellow sunlight made the red hair on the right side of her head give off a warm orange glow and glint in her eyes, eyes that I could not ignore.  They seemed to be of an orangey-brown color that matched the tea she drank. Every time she put the cup down I could not keep from looking into it to see the change in hue as she emptied it sip by sip.  I recall the soothing brown of her sweater.  The one that made want to hug her to feel the warmth of the wool and the feel of her body beneath.  I remember telling her how much I loved the way she looked in that sweater the night before and how she modeled it for me after our playful but passionate coupling that melded our hearts and souls.  A bonding I tried to ignore but our spirits would never forget. Was this all planned?  Did she set out to arrange the colors so the scene before me would speak of warmth and comfort?  The entire scenario designed to set me at ease?  To make me feel like this is my home?  Like this is the place I was meant to be, by her side?  My God, why even the mourning doves sang a eulogy for the death of my presence.

 

He could see it was blustery cold out and the job he had set for himself would take the better part of an hour so he put on his long underwear and two pairs of sock before braving the streets cold.  John "borrowed" the super's shovel and walked to the alternate side of the street where his girlfriend's car was parked buried under a blanket of snow.  Not enough snow to keep her bound in Brooklyn.  Stuck for at least another day.  Another day of trying to convince her not to leave.  Another day of her warm body and cold feet.  The warmth that soothed and settled him; the coldness that told him it couldn't last.  So John began to shovel the snow.  Onto the top of her car.  Pilling it higher and higher until what stood in front of him resembled something akin to the Matterhorn. 

 

What is loneliness?  One can be alone, not have a relationship and not feel lonely and yet one can be in a relationship and feel like the loneliest person on Earth.  I confess that although I am happy and know that I alone am responsible for my happiness there are times when I feel lonely.  And there is nothing wrong with that.  I have known others to say, or blog, that they do not want nor need a lover in their life and they are happy (so they say).  They have been in a relationship that went bad and so they feel they don't want another person for they themselves can be the source of happiness in their life.  Great, more power to them but are they being truly honest with themselves?  Are they keeping a man or woman away from their hearts because they don't need them or because they are protecting themselves?

Like I said, I am happy but, I do get lonely.  And in that loneliness I do not want to seek someone to make me happy for that is MY job nor do I need someone to complete me (a silly notion) for I am whole and complete in myself.  Also, wanting someone so you can be happy or needing someone to complete you is to place an unfair burden on them.  Yes, someone can make me happy just as someone can make me laugh but, I need not place the responsibility of that on someone else's shoulders.  If someone is not happy why would I want them?   So while I love life and am very happy I still get lonely and pray to find one who can steal my heart.

The lady stepped out of her door expecting the unwelcomed chill that was as surprising to others as the warmth of the day before.  She glanced briefly at the sky knowing she would only see the gray of the overcast.  She walked slowly down the granite stairs holding on the the black iron handrail stopping only when she noticed the solitary bloom and heart-shapped leaf.  She starred at the horn of the flower and marvelled at how the stem twisted around the handrail and held on tight as if fearing a slip on the cold stone steps.  The only noticable color of the scene being her red hair, the blue of the flower and the green of the leaf.  Heart shapped as if signifying her love of Morning Glories since her youthful days.  Days that were not so long ago after all.  She knew tomorrow the sun would return and her hooded coat would be retired to the back of the hallway closet.  Were her camera waited.  Patiently.

 

As The Angel and The Child neared the top of the mountains trail their curiosity at what they would find was as consistent as the beat of their hearts and their hope for the positive possibilities.  Their desire for adventure was as strong as the pungent but calming smells of the forest around them.  Ducking under a low branch they righted themselves and looked ahead unto a scene that both settled their self and stirred their emotions.  The beauty of the meadow reinforced their belief in Him and awed them at the glory of God's creation. 

However, as in reading the Holy Writings, they knew there was more than what just lay before them.  They looked on to notice there were several paths that led in different directions and as with their will they had a choice.  One path led off to the left and they could see it was a long trail through beautiful country.  They felt they knew more about what lay in that direction and in their hearts longed to know more and experience the possibility of life along that path.

Another trail was just before them and parts of it seemed adventurous but The Angel and The Child felt very unfamiliar with most of what they could see of that trail.  Yet another was new to them and it led towards some water and in it they could see a beautiful island.  It beckoned to them and did indeed seem promising.  Which path would The Angel and The Child take?  Life surely held some magnificent adventure for them and they were very open to it.  They knew they needed to prepare themselves well.  They welcomed the opportunities and yet held the right amount of awe and fear at the field of possibilities before them.  What treasures would they find along the way? 

Before The Angel and The Child chose a path they prepared themselves and kept their eyes open for the chance of finding another.

Some blog ideas come to me from just one sentence  and this is one of them.

In a previous blog I wrote how we can never really know if a friend we have on MySpace but never met is who they say they are or merely a created persona. I'd like to expand on that thought. What Hamlet says with contempt can be said with conviction. "What a piece of work is man, how noble in reason how infinite in faculty. In form and movement how expressed and admirable. In action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god. The beauty of the world. The paragon of animals..." Yes, we can be such but, we can also be monsters. And anything in between. As human beings we are social animals and seek the company of others. In doing so we aim to attract like-minded people and those who may know more than us. Being human most of us do our best to look good and our damnedest to avoid looking bad. In such we may put forth what we really want to be or had been fooling ourselves into thinking we are. We present what in our minds is our ideal. What we hope others will find attractive. Or we create a facade of coolness and high intellect that we trust will attract those who would be in awe of us. Then again we may present a persona of stoicism or invulnerability that says, " I am whole unto myself and don't need anyone in my life. However I do enjoy the company of friends every now and again." Hmm... As humans we, who need the touch of others to thrive, need relationships be it mentor, friend or lover. A willing ear we can unload on, some advice we use to evolve or a lover to fulfill our longings. Otherwise we should be hermits but, that would slowly drive us mad and we would create our own "Wilsons" (see Castaway). We need relationships. A few pretend we don't. Thus we build a wall around hearts and let in only a choice few we trust won't break it. I do believe a lot of us here are authentic and true with ourselves and others. We are the ones who seek those who have the courage to be vulnerable enough to be their true selves as far as they know themselves to be. Some of us present our strengths and our... strengths and so present but half ourselves. In so doing we attract many who are themselves but half a person. We do this pretense to protect our hearts from breaking but, what is a broken heart but a lesson learned? Among the wisest words I've read are, "This above all; to thine own self be true.  And it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man." So we see that pretense and protection is merely pretense of protection and protection of pretence.

This blog was writen in early 2006 a day after a therapy session.

As he drove home from the session a tape of 80's music played. Music he could sing along to in an attempt to keep from thinking about what was discussed during the hour he spent with his therapist. The memories of his distant yet paradoxically close past were an evil, an evil he had no choice but to revisit again and again if he were to heal and learn to replace the shame that brings about anger. It is difficult for him to understand how he, as a very young child, could take over the shame that should've been taken on by HIM. After all, HE was the one who did what should never be done to a child yet HE could put up boundaries and The Child knew not how. How to put up boundaries, build walls, avoid responsibility. That children learn from adults. How to hurt others and not feel bad about it is also taught to children by adults. So is not needing to help the defenseless. So, why grow up? Who will protect The Child if adults won't? Who will love The Child unconditionally if adults won't? Who will celebrate his birthdays? Or are birthdays not important? The Child needs protection and he realizes so do many, many others. There are so many who need help and The Child knows what it's like to not get it so he does all he can to help others. Perhaps he does too much, tried too hard.
He arrives home feeling emotionally drained and exhausted. Still not wanting to revisit the session. The next day he goes to work. Him and The Child he's been protecting all these years, all by himself. He can't do it alone anymore. Although a grown man he needs desperately what he can't get. Although "married" his wife lives elsewhere and can no more give him what he needs than a cold stone statue that stands as a sentinel over an empty park. No one there to hold him and tell The Child it was not his fault, you’re going to be fine. Things will get better. You are loved as much as you love others He’s not in a state to work today and provide help to others so he goes home and, in a world of friend’s, retreats to his room to console himself and tell The Child, "It's not your fault".