Let me.

Let me get drenched in the pouring rain
Let me get scorched by the burning flame
Let me burn under the scorching sun
Let me drown into the ocean

Please, oh please, save me no more.
Won't you please help me no more.
I want to walk on my own two feet.
Just please do not carry me no more.

You held my hand and carried me,
Broke my fall and guided me.
You shielded me from everything
And always mended any damage

But now I need to walk away
Stumble and fall and find my way
I need to get lost in the winding lanes
And find myself all over again.

The wind will carry me with it,
The snow will freeze me for a while.
But I will emerge stronger, as I always have,
And be who I am, my own destiny.

A Perfect Life

She sat at her polished wooden table by the window, softly sipping her tea out of the exquisitely crafted china teacup. Her chair was comfortable, with the cushion that she liked and all she had to do was ask if she needed another scone or some more honey. The day was unusually pleasant. The sun had come out after a long, cold winter. The birds chirped in the trees and the cool breeze caught in her hair, which slowly began to tangle from the perfection it had been in. There was perfection in everything around her, from the scratch-less surface of her table to the carpets of thick pile that covered the wooden floors. A handsome man smiled at her through the picture frame that decorated the corner table. She had loved him since the day they had met and could not imagine her life without him. He had been kind to her, provided her with everything she needed and never given her any reason to complain. Her life, in every way possible, was perfect.

She sat by the window every evening, drinking her tea. She looked at little boys jumping in the puddles as their mothers led them by the hand. She saw young women scurrying to work in their cheap dresses and shabby shoes. Some days she could see young couples kissing in the street in a moment of passion. Sometimes a stray dog would sniff around the street, probably looking for something to eat. She wondered about the lives of these people, so devoid of the perfection that she had become so accustomed to. She wondered what made the poor, unmarried, skinny girls smile, and she wondered why that little man who wore the torn jacket always whistled while he walked. What did all these people find in their lives that left a song in their heart, even though they did not have the perfect home, the perfect husband, the perfect life. She scoffed to herself, perhaps they just did not know what it meant to have what they had never had. It was time to return to her perfect life, leave those poor bastards in the street to go on with their lives, what did she care. She called out to the girl to help wheel her back into her bed.

Connections

the perfect smile. perfect teeth. soft, full lips. a smile that spreads to the eyes. those deep pools of darkness, momentarily loose focus.
like a pebble on the still surface of water, the smile spreads around. from one mouth to the next. from teary eyes to frowning faces. from crying babies to giggling schoolgirls. white teeth, stained teeth. powdered faces to dimpled cheeks.
a bond that lasted an instant. an small exchange of emotion. a little warmth from one heart to another.
the heart is imperfect. emotions are not straight lines. reactions are not perfectly predictable. smiles are not cut to perfection like diamonds.
perfection requires not the heart, but the mind, intent.

the perfect smile. the perfect cloak.

The Length of Time

Cleaning my room, I have come across a lot of things today. Old birthday cards (which I keep so I come across them on days like this, every time I move to or from home), love letters, silly poetry, and all kinds of things that remind me that life has always been filled with love. I decided to post this one. I do not remember how many years ago I wrote it, but it has definitely been a long, long time.
Seems rather appropriate for the year that just went by.

The days pass one by one
Sometimes they drag and sometimes they fly away.
It's always the not-so-happy ones that drag
And the nicer ones that fly away.

Every day is a new beginning
Another end is every day
Every day is another mystery
Every day a cliche

Everyday we meet new people
And every day is still the same
Every day we part from someone
And all we are left with, are memories of yesterday

It's amazing how fast life moves,
But how slowly passes each day.
We just keep living, and in the blink of an eye,
Today is already yesterday.

It's just a matter of perspective,
That makes our lives short or long.
A happy one will seem short
And a gloomy one, oh so long.

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What matters is how you look at things,
Your happiness depends only upon you.
If all you see is dark shadows, don't worry,
Turn around and you will find the sun shining upon you.

Elephants and Tigers

Eastern cultures are focused on community, like a herd of elephants, while western cultures focus more on the individual, like tigers, living each day as it comes. Given the changing world with increasing globalization, how does one understand these varied, contradicting perspectives? What is considered selfishness in one part of the world is simply self-expression in another. How does an individual who lives by whatever they believe to be right, or best, figure out what really is right or best?

And once a person does figure out how they would prefer to live, the values they would like to live by, what happens if these conflict with the views of their community? Human beings are afraid of change. Anything that threatens to change their way of life is met with strong opposition. The homosexuals continue to fight for their rights while women, in many parts of the world, continue to consider themselves inferior to men.

What the world needs is courage. Courage to stand up to our beliefs. Courage to fight against those that suppress us. Courage to accept change when it comes about. The ability to truly consider another's perspective requires the courage to lose. I wish we'd all find a little more courage.

How much is too much?

Hope and ambition are two very closely related emotions. The only difference between the two is that to be hopeful is to sit and wait for the miracle and to be ambitious is to make the miracle happen. Both hope and ambition help us survive and then make the best of ourselves. Without hope we would wither away in depression and without ambition we would make no progress at all. But as is with all good things, too much of them can be painful. Too much hope leads to being delusional and too much ambition leads to... god alone knows what. Personally, I don't see a down side to too much ambition as long as one's vision is not too narrow, that is to say, that one does not lose oneself in the pursuit of whatever it is that one is pursuing. But I do know that ambition can be the cause of much suffering.

So the question really is, how much is too much? When Leonidas fought for Sparta with his 300 men, he did the only thing he could, ambitious or not. He thought of the consequences of not fighting, and in comparison, even this ambitious battle seemed to make sense. It seems as though hope and ambition are but survival tools, that help us live our live the best we can.