motivation

A Reminder for Gratitude

I give up
as death’s already ‘round that corner
I’ve found myself a mourner for time that has yet to pass
Always looking at the top and bottom
never at the center
of our hourglass representing each passing second
with no chance at seconds

I fucked up
when I promised to do so much
Visions of grandeur – Side projects galore
I boasted to build it all, but ended up a bore
Believing words alone could bring dreams to life
Forgetting that only through day and night
can we truly shine light
on whatever inner gratitude feels is right

I Want To Be a Writer

Luckily, it’s not very hard — I’m doing it right now! Each second passes with a rhythm of fingertips tapping these keys. Fingers wiggling as they transcribe one thought to the next, processing each one into a series of characters. In this moment, I am creating something new. Constructing a universe from the reaction of my mind on blank paper.

Who knows where these words will lead me? For one, I rarely do. I rarely know what the next line will be before completing the sentence I’m already on. Sure, sometimes I come up with lines out of sequence. Yet even then, it becomes an experiment in finding the link between two impactful components. How can I arrange these words such that it evokes emotion in my heart? What would reach me?

And then I answer. I speak from the perspective not of one wishing to be saved, but of the one who is saving. I write the advice that I’ve always been looking for. Because, it makes sense. I remember the most important thing: that all my hesitation to act has been caused from an illusion in how I view my own mind. It is because at times, I envision myself to be someone who wants to be a writer. Instead of simply being a writer. I unwittingly distance my cognitive perception of my own self through replacing I am a with I want to be a.

I dream of what it means to be a successful writer:

  • Publish books
  • Have consistent blog posts
  • Write every day
  • People who want signed books

Then I think of myself:

  • No books
  • Inconsistent writing posts
  • In the last 6 months, I’ve written long-form like this less than 15 times.
  • No books to sign

And at this point, I start producing the thought: I am not a writer. Once on the scene, this thought sparks a mental struggle which needs only but one distraction to be placated. In fact, I was just on Facebook for ~15 minutes since writing the last line. It’s uncomfortable for a mind to feel itself divided. So much so the next option is to just think of something else.

Often that something else is not writing! It’s browsing the internet, watching shows and movies, or playing video games. Then 6 months go by and bam! I’m no longer a writer. Through wanting to become a writer, I further push myself away from it. The solution instead, is to simply write. There is no want, there is no desire other than the impulse to write. To create a string of words able to convey something worth sharing. A melody of symbols. A moment both to reflect and to stumble across something new.

A Glorious Life

Dreams don’t come around so easily
Not with lazy days sitting so idle
It takes some effort, a level of consistency

Break away from your hardening denial
Let go of how it was meant to be
Unknown destiny, life was never a trial

But simply a moment to hear and see
Able to perceive from galaxies to the atomic
Slowly solving the puzzle, the mystery

Able to see life much like a blank comic
Where each panel was left to be made
By the stroke of your brush and a little bit of logic

This is the dance before all we know must fade
So in the end let us cherish that we gloriously played

—
Photographer: Sebastian Marchand

I‘m currently in a poetry workshop where we have to experiment with different forms. This poem is following the Terza Rima scheme:

Terza rima is a rhyming verse stanza form that consists of an interlocking three-line rhyme scheme. It was first used by the Italian poet Dante Alighieri. (Terza rima – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia)

 

Love Infused Stardust

One step, one note
Just one motion forward
The choice of moving toward the next expression of life
Each passing day and night blinking like a flashing light
Until the day that tragic strikes
And then we remember just how short the journey is
Yearning for more, barely able to bear this inevitable sense of doom
Death around the corner, the ever-present sense of gloom
But then it makes me laugh at how mad it all is

An infinite series of patterns growing out of grasp
And here we are
Despite all the pain able to choose to rise and love again
Able to wear that smile ’till it rings true, cause a smile shared is not just for you
It’s contagious — outrageous! — the infectious speed of connecting across the ages
Call it an ideal against all these shifting deals between the powers that be
Yet in this moment let’s not forget the power in you and me

—
Photographer: Nicole Eliason

Intergalactic Synapses


A universe of existence
From atomic scenes to galaxies
Mysteries of interstellar seas
Of motion and action
Emotion, reactions
Cognizant perceptions
Convert energy into a life
Of big numbers and little fractions
Cosmic interactions
Every passing moment a chance to connect
Able to use the time we have left
To live a life worth living
With a heart, like a star, beating in our chests
—

Photographer: 

Summer Goals

Sweat and code
Health, you know
Taking this time to focus on where I’m going
One step at a time while continuously knowing that as long as I move forward
Moving toward the person that I dream to be
It doesn’t matter if it’s difficult or if it comes easily
This is the story of the self-written prophecy
Inscribed with a pen shared by all who inspire me

No longer waiting for dreams to come to me
It’s a craft, you see, to create and let your own art breathe free
Freely expressing whats pressing on your mind and your heart
When one plus one makes two, but you still don’t know what to do or where to start
Living on a shared planet but often feeling galaxies apart

—
Photographer: 

Rewind

If this arrives on time, then it’s 365 days in the past
I’m you from the future and I want to express how last year went:

Tomorrow you found yourself on the wrong side of the line between escape and entertainment
Enjoyment and an attempt to fill a void with thoughtless distraction
A fraction of life’s potential wasting away in inconsequential moments of apathy

Until presented with a choice
You could choose to allow self abusive habits to roam free
Or you could choose to grow
Choose to rise past the sorrow and move toward a new day
A day worth living, worth singing, worth every of ounce of life that
we’re all clinging to

And you chose to grow

In a month you found yourself alone
Nights of cold, empty blankets while dreaming of someone to hold
When the thermostat says 70 degrees but your heart’s feeling 40 under
Feeling darker and darker until fading into nothingness
Destroying all you’ve worked for until you cared for none of this

And then you saw a reflection that you often miss
The part of you against the love
Who wants to live alone in a world of his own problems
Who sees self-sabotage as simply a way of life
The inescapable cycle that always ends with this metaphorical knife

Yet still, you shook off your doubts and fears and you chose to grow

Six months in came the confidence that you always had, just never felt was there
Consistency and discipline laying the foundation to self mastery
Taking it one step at a time while working towards bad-assery
Seizing this moment to be the hero of your own story
Fast forwarding to the good part, where we live with
Every heartbeat remaining, no complaining
While continuously sustaining this temporary
Expression of love

And you chose to grow

In 12 months, you came across a quote
It read: “A year from now you will wish you had started today”

You’ve got some work to do, my friend
Good Luck!

—
Photographer: Jordan McQueen
Quote: Karen Lamb

Each Passing Second

One time
A line of continuous moments
Separated by a distance that no one has known yet
The space between each passing second seems impossible to grasp
No way to unmask
The illusion my mind conjures before me
Allowing the opportunity to write my own story
One that I love
One that can’t be boring
No, not one-hundred-percent happy
But one-hundred-percent invested
Taking each passing second as a chance to better who I am
Defining new limits, new bars to reach and overcome
For now I know I won’t stay forever young

As the only time we ever have has only been now
Everyone has been saying it, sharing out-loud
That numbered days are irrelevant when presently involved
Giving all to this moment, whether we rise or we fall

—
Photographer: Andree Brown

Constructed Futures

Choices make up this continuum of time
To find a calmer state of mind
For time moves forward, never going back
And we already know this moment won’t last

It’s the sound of air that reminds me of what’s there
On what we all share
This responsibility for nature that we all bear

Let this sound remind you of gratitude
How in the end, there’s little left to lose
Just pass along the torch
Before it’s your turn to leave it scorched
But through an open heart begin to do your part
So that somewhere down the road a better life can truly start

Time to Create

Oh but don’t you worry for we are bound to make mistakes
Whether we take it slow or we hurry, there’ll be plenty of outtakes
For it takes more than just one moment for a heart to succeed
It’s continuous motion, to love and be free
Means to truly believe in what it means to freely breathe
We are beings of oxygen, of big bits and little bits
Atoms and molecules all fused together with hidden rules
All acting together to bring to life what we call existence
Each passing moment, each passing instance
Here we are, able to think this
Awareness, mindfulness

Sharing fading memories while traveling through these distant trees
Uncovering ideas and unknown philosophies
Able to be grateful for this sweetest breeze
Here is what I see
Interconnected families
Growing in all directions, becoming something new
Or perhaps a reflection of dreams coming true

For society as we know it was at some point constructed
Grown institutions imposing ideals on how life should be conducted
By the hand of man, we built the life that we’ve always wanted
Creating our own world, despite its future being forgotten

—

Photographer: Joshua Earle