Saturday, September 19, 2015
Where do you find inspiration?
There are no Inspirations-R-Us stores, or inspiration.com but there is World of Inspiration. Com. Click on it and you will find wonderful quotes like the ones listed below.
“A champion is one who gets up when he can't.”
“It's hard to beat a person who never gives up.”
The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph.”
But what do I do at three in the morning when the world is asleep and I don’t want to wake the cat? I toss. I turn. I try to meditate. I read. I turn out the light and turn on my phone, I check my credit card balance. Facebook and email. Back on with the lamp, I jot down my to-do list for what is already today. By four AM, back off with the light, fluff my many pillows and cradle myself in their soft intimacy.
The cat is awake and now he wants to knead his paws on my cheek. I have to go to the bathroom, but I don’t want to interrupt his deep concentration, but I have to go to the bathroom. He chirps in protest when I throw him and the covers aside and crawl out of bed. My bones ache and my eyesight needs time to adjust to the darkness, then I remember to open my eyes.
I will be seventy next year. Ten years ago, I slept like the dead, no nighttime bathroom breaks, no creaking bones. At the age of sixty, I thought I was old because I was sixty. After applying lip balm to my dry lips and aloe to my flaking arms, I pad down the hall to the kitchen for a cold drink of water.
Outside a full moon lights up the yard as if I’d left the porch light burning. My neighbors’ barking dogs have grown hoarse, left their posts, and gone to bed. The yucca’s fronds powered by the night breeze sweep and sway as they cast ink-black starry shadows across the cinderblock fence.
The house is full of the peace that arrives just before dawn, the same serenity that stirs me awake, rested, wide-eyed and clear headed. I curl up in the recliner, bare feet tucked under me, and whatever energy primes the new day to begin, also injects me with an intense passion.
Inspired by the quiet of the night and beauty of the golden lunar orb, I power my laptop. My fingers dance and flit across the keys like fireflies in the night, and my small world, illuminated only by the bight screen, becomes alive and electric. My imaginings transform into words, pattering down onto the electronic page. I wander and explore as I erect a new universe, a new perception, or expose an old reality. The clicking keyboard, the only sound, until daylight overcomes the moon’s glow.
For me, this is where the inspiration is. Inside, waiting for the noise to hush and the actions to idle.
Saturday, September 5, 2015
Recently life has interfered with my travels. I miss the hum of my new tires on the asphalt, the camaraderie of other travelers, and the hospitality of the locals in every town I visit. I long for the sound of the surf crashing against the Oregon coast, the silence of the Olympic forest at night, and the rain on my motorhome roof.
Sportster, too, sits by the patio door staring out at his Winnebago- Bed and Breakfast parked in the driveway. He turns his sad eyes to me and meows for the excitement of sleeping on the RV’s dash as the world races by, and the adventures of sniffing all the unfamiliar scents at every campsite.
New tires, new, shocks, and new brakes. Spit shined and ready to roll. But for now I wait for life to unfold and release me to a new chapter. When I do head out this time I will have said good bye to my beloved sister who is now approaching her final journey.
Have you ever wondered how strange it is that time can stand still, forcing us to crawl through the dreaded episodes yet, in contrast, when we reach the other side, we soar to heights we never dreamed? And once past the pain of it all we thrive within the next welcomed chapters with new eyes and a new aspect?
For now I wait with Sportster, who contemplates his own story he’s titled SPORTSTER’S ADVENTURES. Writing passes the time and nurtures my wounded heart. Words bubble below the surface like a thick, rich concoction which will become delightful after it has cooled. But for now the heated cauldron of the alphabet scalds the skin.
Enjoy a wonderful Labor Day.
Please share the message in my latest novel, MASADA'S MARINE, with your family and friends.
Every hour a veteran commits suicide.
Service Dogs Save Lives.