My mind suffers from a lack of cohesion today.
Popcorn musings whose kernels are heating in warm word strewn oil, but can’t quite find it in themselves to pop into something bigger. I can’t seem to make their pieces into a full, buttered bowl of cogent thought.
Maybe it’s my brain on holiday or the slowing warmth of day or just difficulty trying to collect the pieces of a new year and assemble them into something tangible. But I am finding that I would like to write of many things, yet lack the focus to shape my words into anything more than tiny little grains of reflection.
I wish to write of the presence of this moment of Here and Now. Sitting on the lanai by the flowing garden, watching the rain. Covered with a blanket of thick humidity and cloud of fine green haze. The beauty of Kauai that makes me want to stay here forever in this warm meeting of sea, rainforest, and sand.
All while I am yearning for the kind fit of home and my warm hearted, snow strewn life.
Or maybe speak more about my contemplations on not fitting into this world very well. What it is to house a heart whose sensitive skin feels stretched tight and thin from trying to cover a wide expanse of cold over awareness with inadequate layers of protection.
I imagine I was probably off somewhere staring up into the clouds when they were handing out protective furs and sturdy armor, and have subsequently ended up finding myself woefully stripped bare at times. Exposed. Frantically searching for the thick knit of nurture.
I imagine I am not the only one who feels this way.
There’s a lot of unraveled hearts looking for thicker knits I think, to keep the cold out.
I’d like to tell you of starting the new year with yesterday’s adventure on the Na Pali coast. How my feet took me through dark jungles, steep cliffs, and winding red dirt trails that make you grateful for a sure footed step and glad you don’t get vertigo.
Of the white sand beach by the Kalalau Valley at the end of the trail whose turquoise ocean, fresh spring waterfalls, and deep emerald visages hosts an odd collection of adventurers, recreational hikers, nudists, and likely squatters. Making for one of the most eclectic campsites I’ve ever seen.
Only accessible through the 11 mile trail, you have to earn your right to be at this beach and from the looks of some of those I saw, they had little intent of leaving anytime soon. One wonders if they simply set up permanent camp and decided they’ve had enough of the real world.
They will take their time in paradise and leave behind the taxes and troubles of day to day, thank you very much.
I imagine there’s much worse ways to pass a life.
I really want to write about 2014, my Year of Sincerity and what I think this may mean for me. How sincerity is the virtue of one who speaks and acts truly about his or her own feelings, thoughts, and desires.
My base recognition that though I possess a sincere heart, I feel I don’t always follow through on structuring my time, relationships and communication with accordance to those feelings, thoughts, and desires.
I find myself being for others and not always for myself, which I have considered really isn’t very sincere at all when you think about it.
I’m going to do better this year.
I have a million thoughts on family. These clusters of people we are born into who we can look so much like, yet be so very different.
The familiarity and hope and connectivity that lends itself to always trying to evolve, grow, be better to one another. The systems and histories and personalities which lend themselves to disconnect, distance, repetition of patterns.
Still we try though, I think, in these odd clusters. We try for different ways instead of the same. We try for love, even when our sincere efforts are not always recognized. We try for better, even when we don’t know how to get there.
I guess that’s what is most important.
To recognize the try, whether or not we get there.
I have many thoughts on the spiritual work I’ve done in this tropical space. The meditations and healing received as my inner Peacemaker walks wisely through the rough patches in my land. Offering words of wisdom, reconciliation, letting go.
You cannot change the past, but with an open heart and good imagination you can still go meet yourself there, and allow your loving self to offer words of knowledge, love and absolution for the parts of you that still feel stuck and not quite caught up to your present.
I let much wash out with the cadence of the tide while staying here, I don’t intend to bring it back.
I would like to tell the full story behind any one of these thought kernels. And develop it into something fuller and richer, but I’m finding as I sit here watching the sky change colors to greet late day, that the full story doesn’t want to come on any one of them.
Just short, sweet little words that mark the presence of these seeds in my mind that say they are here, there is more to be told.
I suppose in some ways it’s just like starting a new year.
With short, sweet ideas on what we would like for our lives in 2014. Little jots and notes which we hope to develop into something grander that moves us towards wellness and happiness. That more fully create the story of us.
A giant collection of new kernels ready to be popped into a bowl of something more in the days ahead. We hope to heat them in our oils of good intent and heart wishes and wait to see what comes out.
A good solid bowl of warm salty popcorn I should hope, that does justice to the days given us. Covered in butter.