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It Just Is

It was a moment that could have happened a billion times. I was busy tick-tick-ticking away on the keyboard, sending a long (I don’t think I ever send a short one…) email to a friend that I had not written to in oh-so-long. As I was busy pulling thoughts from my jumbled brain to the blank box in front of me, the cursor blinking in it’s effort to catch its breath between word marathons, that I had an epiphany.

I am not one of those people that struggle for years to suddenly have a life changing epiphany. For me, at least, they tend to show up with alarming frequency. I am not sure how that works for others, but for me it generally begins when I am speaking, or typing, in this instance, and I will mumble (or type) a few words that seem to get stuck just as they come out of my mouth. In truth, there are times that I will stop mid-sentence and just ponder the words I had just (or was just about to say). If there was a soundtrack to me life, this would be the moment that some mysterious and petite little piano solo would begin and work its way into a full-on forte.

Epiphanies, although more frequent for me than some that I know, never feel less significant even in the somewhat regularity that I experience them. It’s as though I am speaking a truth when suddenly I realize that it is perhaps more true than I had every thought it was–as if just recognizing the truth of it made it quite suddenly much more precisely and completely accurate. Most of the time I am tempted to go right down that rabbit hole and pursue just how true this epiphany is (and anyone that has spoken to me for any length of time can attest to this…) so much so that often I will effectively forget about what I was saying and have to be re-directed.

Funny things, epiphanies. They always show up at the strangest time, but I have noticed that there is a pattern. I tend to have them when I concentrate on getting thoughts correct from brain to mouth (or fingers). It is generally when I can silence the inner chatter of day to day living that I am able to allow my brain to connect the dots and hold up the picture to me. To me, epiphany is the brain connecting the dots to show me the pattern that I might otherwise completely miss (and often do, to my chagrin).

I am sure that there is at least one person wondering what this epiphany was, and I will share it. Strange, but it seems that my whole day set me up for this one. First of all, I heard a song on a commercial. I had to know what it was because that is how I am with music that I get obsessed with. So I did what any girl in my spot would have done. I googled.  After a few minutes, I had the song name and performer. Within a few more minutes, thanks to modern technology, I had a copy of the entire song. As I suspected from the snippet I heard on the television, I love the melody. The bonus was that I also found that the lyrics were a gem.

A few hours later, as I was composing an email, I began to explain that although life has many twists and turns, ups and downs, and highs and lows, I have learned to accept and even embrace this. As I said in the missive to my longtime friend, I used to sit and think “I will be so happy with my life slows down a little and makes more sense.” As I have grown over the years I have realized that if life were to ever slow down and make sense I am beyond sure that I would become restless and bored. I have learned that it is easier to roll with the punches and go with the flow” or something like that. You get the idea.

For me, I suppose, it is ultimately better that I don’t know exactly what comes next, because really, how boring would that be?

Violet :)

BTW…if you are interested in the song, here is a link.

 
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Posted by on May 15, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

Once Upon A Dream

We all have dreams. It has been said that our hopes and dreams are one of the things that separates us from the animals. To some extent, I can’t really disagree with that sentiment. I suppose, that should I take the preceding view as my own, I must admit that it is, in fact, quite the double-edged sword. If we are separated–at least in part–from the animal kingdom by the existence of our hopes and dreams, then we are even more separated by the existence of another uniquely human emotion–regret.

 

Those who have never truly lost, those who have perhaps failed, but lost nothing, save the attempt at achievement, those souls have not truly experienced the true risk involved with dreams. We all have the simple, usual dreams, the dreams at creating a good life for our children, finding a love that will endure, perhaps we might dream of success in finances, for others, perhaps owning a home. All of these are worthy dreams, but honestly, they carry very little up front risk. To achieve each of these things, in the end, for better or worse, we generally (although not always, I suppose) will walk away at the end with something, even if it isn’t really what we had imagined to have when we began. The risks involved are usually attached to the obtaining the thing that we were searching and dreaming for in the first place.

 

To borrow from the song, “When this all began…” I thought that I would have the chance to improve my relationship with her. I envisioned a relationship where I could lay bare all of my inmost parts, my dreams, my fears, the things that pleased me most, the things that still make me run away and curl up in fear. I had dreamed of such a thing, in fact, I was so damn sure that things would, given time, work out in the positive, and that even if I did not achieve the dreams I had for such a bright future, things would improve.

But such is the risk of being laid so open and vulnerable. When we love another with our whole self, leaving nothing concealed, no place to hide away in shadow…when we do that, we risk so much more than a simple falling short of a dream. We risk not just the falling short, which is bitter to swallow, but all the same, it can be done.

When we truly go “all in” and we put all of our cards on the table, nothing up the sleeve, no ace in the hole, all in….We risk not only losing the things that we are pursuing, but we also leave vulnerable all the things that we have.

 

 
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Posted by on March 13, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

Random Randomness

unknown me

I don’t know exactly how long it has been since the last time I have posted anything on this blog. I know that if I really wanted to, I could simply look at the stats page or even the front page to figure it up. I suppose it doesn’t matter quite enough for me to do so. ;-)

I do know that I have become much more scarce online, and there are as many reasons for that as there have been days away.

I suppose I could say that I have been hiding, but that has the feeling that there is something to hide from, which isn’t quite true. I think I have settled on calling it a hibernation. It is like a hibernation to me, since it began sometime along the start of fall, and here it is, spring. Will the spring thaw me and allow me to be something other than hibernating? I am not really sure, myself. I guess I will see how far this tide will take me.

I would love to tell you all that I have been busy working away at some super secret project, that I have some amazing, alluring, incredible talent to show off to you. I could tell you that, but it would be a lie. This has been hibernation in its purest sense. I have not bothered to string three words together anywhere. I can count the amount of times I have logged on to this blog…hell, even bothered to drag this computer to the library in order to access the online beyond what I have done on my phone.

I know that I am myself, but I have not been me.

 
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Posted by on March 10, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

Used To Be

 

old tree

Of all the things that consume your hours

Chewing the minutes and digesting days,

The maiden you rescue from far away towers,

In the movies your mind continually plays,

And all of the roles that are performed by me,

I am them no longer, though I used to be.

 

No longer young, dewy-eyed, with warm velvet skin,

My figure and face both weathered by years,

The shell never matching the contents within,

Cruelly the mirror confirms all my fears.

I accept the reality you think I don’t see,

I am young no longer, as I used to be.

 

The years lay behind us, their skins long discarded,

The struggle, as always, is just to survive.

I wonder, in future, how I’ll be regarded

Is my love alone going to keep us alive?

Will you remain here, or decide to be free

I’m not quite as certain as I used to be.

 

copyright Violet Elder, 2014. All rights to publication and printing reserved to the author.

 

 

 

 

 
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Posted by on July 22, 2014 in poetry

 

Nothing Gold

Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leafs a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

Robert Frost–Nothing Gold Can Stay

 

It has been a long while since I have felt like writing anything that I would want others to read. Sure enough, as the minutes in the day march their way into the long hours, from waking to sleeping, I do write in my head. I think about things and I suppose to myself (with the arrogance of someone who is always sure later will be there) that I will write them down later, only to realize that later shows up and leaves and doesn’t drop so much as a calling card. In short, the things get away from me and I am left staring at the screen trying to make the words happen. I might as well try to grab a fistful of water. I would get farther with the water.

After I gave up on writing for a while, it dawned on me that this might just be the beginning of another era for me. So many times I think it is easy for us me to get used to things being the way that they are, and sometimes we I forget that things aren’t the way they were...Things change from one day to the next, world without end, amen. With or without my permission, life will continue, doing what life does, even if that means life is kicking the stuffings out of me. It is what life is. I guess in my mind it is like a lumberjack running on the log floating on the lake. If you don’t pay attention to what is going on NOW, well, you’re likely to end up ass first in the water.

What the hell, you ask, does that have to do with Robert Frost and poems?

Let me paraphrase it.

It all looks great in the beginning, but keeping it great is hard work!

Things are all making sense and life is good…but you begin to realize there is nothing permanent or guaranteed.

Before you know it, everything falls apart, like everything always does.

So it has been since the beginning of time, because life is fragile, and there is no permanence.

I know, I know….it sounds depressing. It is depressing. I can’t fancy it up. It is what it is.

I only hope that I can persuade you to notice, even if I have to remind myself of the same:

Season will give way to season,

Things have to change for a reason.

When it feels like world end is impending,

Every season has ending.

Losing will give way to winning,

And ending becomes a beginning.

 

:)

Violet/Lunargirl

 

The first poem, of course, belongs to Frost.

The second is my own. All copyrights apply.

 

 

 

Viva La Resistance!

Call me scatterbrained.

It wouldn’t be an untrue statement, let me assure you.

I am, even in the best of times a bit of a scatterbrain, although I do maintain that there are usually really rational explanations for that. Let’s face it, I am a very busy kinda girl. I generally have as many irons in the fire as possible, and then I decide in a moment of fanciful delusion that I need to add at least three more…

I have managed to arrive, again, at the end of another year. Whoop-de-hurrah. I guess. I don’t know. The whole thing leaves me feeling a bit whatever, as the kids say now. That pretty much sums up the experience of the past year. It has been a wild, wild ride, and I am not fooled, not one bit, into thinking that it is anywhere near the conclusion. Calendars or no, 2013 and I still have “unfinished business”. Those of you familiar with Beatrix Kiddo of “Kill Bill” fame can appreciate the sentiment.

beatrix kiddo

All of that aside, I suppose I am meant to do some recap of the year, but, as you might already have guessed, I am nothing if not a bit of a non-conformist at times. This is one of those times. I don’t feel like reliving the last year, and I don’t intend to. So there. Take that, 2013!

I don’t intend to lay out plans for 2014 either, except for saying this:

I intend to live each day as it arrives and not a moment before. I can’t do a thing about things that happened ten minutes ago, let alone ten days or ten years ago. I don’t know what the future holds, to suppose otherwise is to invite folly. The only moment I have any say in at all is now. This is the only real place there is, right now is the only thing I can be sure exists at all. This is where I will spend my energy and stick my resolve. Right here, right now.

I am sure that this will be a year full of experiences, new ones, repeats of old ones, and that is good. That is as it should be. The past year saw some remarkable things, some good, some not so good, but dammit, I survived.

That alone is worth raising a glass in celebration.

Here’s to us:

The dreamers,

dreamer

The realists,

realist

The lovers,

lovers

The fighters,

fighter

The Moms and Dads,

parents

The Grannies and Pappies,

grandparents

Those fighting the fights,

childhood cancer

Those telling the tales,

writer

and to those who are all of the above.

jack of all trades

 

May this be the year for all of us.

 

 

Violet/Lunargirl

 

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Posted by on November 25, 2013 in Claudia, fiction

 
 
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