Dreams Beneath Oceans of Fears

sisyphus
Pushing the stupid rock.

Gapawa published a post today titled A Bit of Honesty. He likened himself to Sisyphus, futilely pushing a big rock up a hill only to have it roll back down for him to push back up the hill. Day after day after day. Gapawa concludes the way out is beneath oceans of fear where your dream — whatever that means to you — is carefully concealed.

“It can be reached. But you must be courageous. You must be willing to accept help. You must be strong enough to surrender.  Sweet dreams…” Gapawa

I left a comment.

“If you dive into the oceans of fear often enough, you can locate the shallows of experience where you can dream awake and put down your rock.

The first time was the scariest.” Me

He asked me if I’d care to share some of my experience, and my response grew into a post. With credit to Gapawa for prodding me to put it into words, I decided it would be more polite to publish it here than to fill his space with a post-length comment.

Here is my reply:

Continue reading “Dreams Beneath Oceans of Fears”

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The Cycle

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Photo credit: S.T. Ranscht

#PoetsForPeace will accept your poem until August 31, 2016.

We will combine all contributions and welcome suggestions for what to do with the resulting collaborative Poem…”The Poem Heard ‘Round the World” something that would make Gandhi, the Dalai Lama, and Martin Luther King Jr. sigh.” #PoetsForPeace

 

The Cycle

by S.T. Ranscht

Dark Age
ignorance, destruction, violence
the fearful band together
to contain, restrain, constrain
civilizing this Time’s
Golden Age
to question, create, explore
achieving complacence
once again

Shadows creep unnoticed from horizon
into unwary hearts that have no fear
or sense of other
or of love
Their first act shocks the world
to flurry anguish settling
to comfortable couch outrage
binge-watching shoot-em-ups
from the fifties

Was that the news
or just another episode
of mass shooting senseless violence reckless hate?

What can we do?
What can anybody do?
It is insane.
I see no hope.
Yes, this is a very comfortable couch.

Until it isn’t
Springs poke through
Too much anger, frustration, discontent
the hundredth monkey finally arriving
after the third act
or the fifth
or tenth

Standing to make room
swallowing their fear with the blood flowing
past their homes. along their streets, in their veins
until it boils
over
away
to purify us all

and birth
another
chance
for
hope

 

Finding the Spirit of Kindness

This is Week 2 of the Kindness Challenge.

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Someone left a kindness bouquet for everyone to enjoy.

Like looking for the good — or bad — in people, you will find kindness if you look for it. And often in unlikely places. Who thought to put these furry blooms in a stairway post two days ago? A child or a grownup? It was certainly a deliberate choice. There isn’t even one of these plants close by. Today they weren’t there, but they weren’t scattered on the ground, either. Where do you suppose they are now? In someone’s living room? Lining a bird’s nest? Strung together like a fuzzy crown gracing the head of a three year old Prince or Princess of the Playground?

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Anticipation

Yeah, I’m new to this whole blogging thing. I’ve anticipated, in a somnambulistic sort of way, writing one — someday. I just didn’t know it would be today. But somebody I respect suggested the Blogging from A to Z Challenge  would be a good way to break into the blogging habit, and I believed him. My anticipation is now fully awake. And quaking.

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