The Lake
Growing up, I had the privilege of visiting my neighbors’ vacation home once every year or two, usually for a week. My family was always welcome to use it, provided we left no trace. If given the opportunity, I would have spent my life in that house in the middle of nowhere, so remote even radio stations barely found it.
The house sat resolute on a lake whose name I never bothered to learn—in my mind, it was always simply “the lake.” Since all other lakes were secondary, it did not require a name to distinguish itself. Similarly, I never had any idea of the location of this house, beyond the fact that it was in a town called Lyman somewhere in Maine and it was near Harris Farm, where we bought our vacation milk, because they had all the best flavors and two dogs and some cows that made funny noises (we once heard one give birth up the hill).
My most vivid memory at the house is my tenth birthday. I remember waking up to find one of my dad’s famous egg breakfasts waiting for me in the kitchen. On my plate were scrambled eggs with cheese, sausages (the good kind—not the weird smooth ones that made me hyper-aware I was eating an animal), and, lurking below my English muffins with jelly (not jam, because the chunks felt weird in my cheeks)—green grapes. I gave my mom one of my famous “Did you really think you could pull this again?” looks. She was always forcing me to try new foods, even going so far as to hide strange, alien meats in the folds of my sandwiches. I didn’t—don’t—like change, and these sandwich surprises were not well-received.
After sneaking grapes onto my sister’s plate and feigning compliancy, I emerged onto the porch overlooking the lake and took comfort in its familiarity. From my seat at the highest table, I could see all the way to the boat bobbing in the water. The house had a great sloping backyard, never put to any use beyond dirtying our feet on the way back to the house after swimming. Towering trees surrounded the property, and a forest extended for a mile before any road was accessible. A long dirt road led through the woods, serving as a driveway, and I had made a habit of counting the blueberry bushes and deer on the way down. On that particular day, I remember pondering my presence at the house and wishing my temporary joy was not followed by a miserable year of missing it. I never felt more at home than in moments like these, when I breathed in and my lungs filled with the taste of the forest and the wonderfully unkempt grass and the wood of that porch. I could have stayed forever.
I spent much of my birthday tubing on the lake, dragging my hand through the waves. I liked how it got all frothy like root beer, and the water felt like silk between my fingers. I could have comfortably spent my entire day in that tube, but there comes a time when the fingers are wrinkled and the wet grows uncomfortably cold and the parents are sick of the boat. Still, every night I would lie in the top bunk in that dusty basement full of spiders and I would imagine I was in the tube again, floating forever on the lake, my skin never pruning or growing cold because the lake didn’t want me to leave either.
I was awake early the next morning. I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, maybe a foot from my face in that top bunk. I could see the textured paint there, so intricate and so rarely noticed. The bland, off-white color was just like that of any average ceiling, but something about it was comforting to me. It was dull enough to avert attention, and bumpy enough that it could scrape my skin if I got too close. The ceiling wanted to be left alone. It was perfectly content to exist, ignored, in that dark basement in Nowhere, Maine. It cared not who stood under it, or walked above it, or slept a foot away from it. It simply was.
The last time I stayed at the lake, there were three distinct changes. One, I was not a kid anymore. Everything felt smaller, and in that room in the basement I stretched closer than ever to the ceiling. Two, we didn’t bother digging through the garage for the tube—I was older, and I sat in the boat with the adults now. And three, I knew I wouldn’t return.
Today, I know the exact address of this house, and the name of the only lake that matters. Today, I can only see them if I drive up myself, and go down that long driveway without looking at the blueberry bushes because I have to focus on the road now, and look at the outside of the house and remember. I can only look at that ceiling in the basement if I go on Zillow and I scroll through the pictures and zoom, and even if I focus my eyes really hard, I still can’t quite see that textured paint.
SCARS
I look at you guys and see so many faces, futures and smiles. Smiles, smiles everywhere. You smile even though deep down youre crying. You smile even though youre hurt. You smile even when everyday is another battle. Youve survived natural disasters, disease, abandonment and most painful of all a broken heart. Many of you still have scars from that time or this time and some of you are anxiously awaiting for when that time comes. I assure you brothers and sisters no amount of time can arm you for what this chaotic world throws. Shes merciless, cruel and unforgiving. She'll strike you with the same hand used to feed you. Lift you high so you can fall, introduce you to love so it can present hate, anguish and betrayal. I've barely even scratched the surface of the dragon that eagerly awaits to burn us with its fiery wrath, and smack us with its powerful tail. The one who stands after all thats thrown is left with scars, disfigurement and a different pair of eyes worn by the same warriors who endured. If you are to get anything from my words I hope its this: Survive and endure. Wear your scars proud, share your suffering with others, allow to be carried when your legs give out, this world is to strong to be fighting alone. Smile when you taste dirt and become strong so you can tell your story proud.
Changed in an Instant
We rang in 2020, of the new year
with lots of laughter good times and cheer.
It did not take long for everyone to see
we should have started this year differently.
Chaos is a common state for our world,
But it gets out of control with each spoken word.
Don’t’ go out in public or hug each other.
Close all schools and businesses said the government.
Do not gather together and we will get through this.
But after many days passed, we began to ask what if …
our isolation only caused this crisis to double
The aloneness triggered more depression and trouble.
Irritability increased, impatience and intolerance.
Then suddenly the virus was replaced by violence.
Rage and hatred have taken over our land,
and certainly, everything has gotten out of hand.
Was there a better way to keep everyone safe?
Could we have continued to live but learned to replace
thoughtless care for sanitation and spreading the germs
which has been proven to protect us from all the harm?
We were taught as children by our parents early on,
wash your hands thoroughly, let the dirt be gone.
Cover your mouth completely when you cough and sneeze,
Oh, and keep your hands away from your face if you please.
Stay home and away from others if you are sick.
If you get worse, go to the doctor really quick.
Do not carry your illness to parties or work,
take care of yourself, we were taught how since birth.
Be aware of your neighbors and if someone is in need,
do what you can to help them succeed.
You can honor them with thoughtful words, clothing, or food,
Give from your many blessings to those who have few.
Our isolation has turned many of us to destruction
as we wallow in despair and dwell on frustration.
Kindness disappeared when we stayed in our homes
thinking we had to survive all of this on our own.
Our graduating seniors have suffered a lot
They could not celebrate the twelve years they were taught.
They were not able to gather together as a class
or dream about how their future would pass.
After all this despair is there any more hope?
What is out there for us to help us cope?
Who is capable of spreading a little cheer,
to us and to those we love and hold dear?
The answer is as old as God’s creation.
He had the power to create us and he can stop the destruction.
He does it, not with fanfare of trumpets and noise.
He quietly and powerfully uses His church to spread joy.
The church did not take a vacation from life.
Instead they invented new ways to shine God’s light.
They flooded their congregations with lots of encouragement,
and reminded us, underneath we are not all that different.
All of us require contact and connection to each other,
our family our friends our sisters and brothers.
We cannot ignore our need for interactions
if we do, the results are hatred and frustrations.
God does not want us to isolate from our life.
He wants us to spread His goodness and light
to a lost world living in all this chaos.
He reminds us to replace with joy, what we lost.
Thank you to the many health professionals,
who tirelessly gave of themselves with no hesitation.
To all the peacekeepers who came out in force
and the good people who continued the course.
Remember this, in the end of everything,
God is in control and His will is to redeem
those who believe His words and accept
His salvation, and His love that will not quit.
So, in summation we have a choice
in the actions we take. Will we cry or rejoice?
I choose to not allow the bad news we hear
defeat me, but with God’s help, I will spread Cheer.
Death to Philosophy
How many times have you heard it proposed that philosophy is dead? Or, perhaps you questioned a friendly thinker about why they would find intrigue in investigating the paranormal.
In this age of “fake news” there is a feeling that even empirical truths are questionable. Aside from traditional science and math, most anything can be debunked with effective publicity. Nonetheless, the human condition continues to propel us to conquest toward things unknown.
For those of us who want to evade a dooming future, hope cannot be squashed. There’s a depression in the air that’s consumed our psyches for way too long. Recognizing the listless gaze of our children or witnessing their immersive disassociation we’ve suddenly realized something went wrong!
There are those of us who sensed this coming. We have been warned whilst being subdued. There’s media/propaganda, war/peace, love/hate, and morality/immorality. All this leading to illusion and disillusion, seemingly guided to a big bag of whys?
What’s the point? We continue the narrative “for goodness sake” whilst the concept is ever-diminishing. New age philosophy promotes self-actualization as the only reprimand for our evading truths. This must be the key to reuniting cause and effect. Promote reinvigoration of math and science whilst string theory and quantum mechanics are lost in that same bag.
There’s no reason for anything, so do what you want. Even the curious existentialist is balled-up in the bag to create meaning in The Absurd.
I would propose that the key to new discovery is uncovering the “why.”
With this perfect collusion of “fake news”, how could we give up on ourselves? But, we haven’t given up! We are on the verge of new engagement to mold the fabric of our dwindling future. So, when nothing matters, make it matter! Voila! But, 1+1 cannot equal anything other than 2! Have the numbers lied to us?
Resorting classification management systems smells of deception as well! It’s the type of stink that produces results! Enjoy the “fake news”, but don’t screw up the math.
Knowledge is a mixed bag, and we will construct new paths to save our species. Today, our thinkers are watching the same news and wouldn’t dare serve their truths so easily! Philosophy is not dead, it’s breeding in the same pool! Oops, I mean bag.
What is life?
What is LIFE
A threatening light, a battle, a fight or a sharpen knife.
Should I live or should I utilize
What is life who can define???
From the time of cradle till the time I'll die.
I'll live different stages in different style.
A daughter, a sister, a mother and a wife
The few were made, time to time.
How to manage, how to a-line
The problems, challenges running around my sight.
Should I fight or should I hide
accept or ignore the things I dislike
I was shy, I was weak, I was always so pleased
Between life and time it freaked with me
I am choking and sinking and can not breath
I am done with it please let me free
Before All This Please Brief One Thing To Me...
Is what the time is lived or a life, Please
