Flames

The mirror, the ever expressive point blank preview of your own reflection, the reverse of what you present to the world, the portal into your very own little play book and script. With closed eyes we exhale, together, looking into the same mirror, trying to form or to feel a connection that’s been eluding our emotions for many a night. We’re, literally, figuratively, setting ourselves in fire with the eyes that we see each and every single day.

Eyes open, wide, as wide as they can see, mimicking eyes caught in the headlights taking in the very few seconds before the inevitable may, or may not, play from the scrapbook of life. We wish for another page, another story, the play to never end while stumbling to write. You look at yourself, not that deeply, not with any hunger, but with self-doubt and murmurs of unknown words.

The world within the mirror seethes, looks back at you with disdain, with discomfort, while your soul screams from within, wishing, wanting and bleating to be heard. Your image looks at your skin, your lips, as the mirror burns with flames of agony. What’s right, what isn't wrong, all the thoughts that spew forward from lips that should never be yours.

For a second you look down, wishing that you, instead, were somewhere else even if it were walking on fire. Burn your feet, scold your legs, but don’t, whatever you do, tarnish your face. A quick glance, a momentary shy flicker, with flames burning from the mirror, you return to where you once were. You recall what it was like to be a child, free of the burdens of life, safe, protected. For many that wasn't the case but, still, as are we all, our mirror self was seldom the strongest thought within a mind.

You lift your head, a bit higher than usual, gaining strength, fighting the demons and burning words and even manage a wry smile. The flames subside, they falter and flail, then die like a star in the sky. Substance, inner-glow, you know that that is worth more than another’s false words or thoughts. We are all born equally, more or less, yet selfishly defined by our outer skin. Let it go… embrace, breath life, caress hearts and forgo the banishment of self-doubt. We’re all beautiful despite what we've been told, despite how we've been brainwashed, regardless of freckles, colours, blemishes or lines.

A new flame appears surrounding the mirror, a flame of strength, purpose, made from your own inner love. You smile, the biggest smile you may ever have smiled as you believe that you’re amazing, that you’re not defined by the way you look and, as you walk away, you leave behind your reflection with its own inner misery.

Emotional Freedom

There are moments, solitary small nuggets, recursive seconds of illiterate thoughts of how my life used to be. Solitary, confined, sometimes refined to certain subjects and words of denial. You see, please understand, try to comprehend, that I used to be an emotional being.

Some would say that it’s a gift, a special happening, a deal struck with angels, to be such a person but, to me, it was like being trapped within a prison of self-made hell. I'm not alone, despite what I used to think, considering how I felt, that I'm not actually the only person within this world that could possibly, ever, realise how I was feeling or thought. I could be sarcastic, even ridicule myself for the fashion with which I used to lead my daily life but, on second thoughts, with a few seconds of that thought, I’d rather show myself compassion and warmth.

You see, as an emotional being, you’re trapped within your own mind, with withering temporal thoughts, stuck in a recursive frame of mind. ‘I can’t’, ‘It won’t work’, ‘No-one understands’, ‘Why can’t…’ become the words you use every single solitary day. You reach but fail to grasp, you hide but scream for help, you breath but feel like you’re about to die and struggle to lift your head.

I can recall many times where I destroyed the very thing I reached for, longed for, reacted to and desired. You see, to me, maybe to you, holding someone within my very arms was supposed to cure my affliction, resolve my wretched mind, calm the heart that juggled my life and day. It didn't, it wouldn't and it never could.

Once more, again keep up, I realised that no solitary single figure within this world and the next, not one, could ever pacify my longing, my emotional graving, the desire and need. No amount of flesh or passion, no number of kisses or caresses, the whispers of another while darkness surrounded the both of us, could ever, never, hold the emotional mountain that existed inside.

So, after all of the blathering, when the words have been written, the expressions passed from I to you, what’s the answer? Well, in all honesty, we all have different answers but like so many moments in life… YOU and you alone hold the answer to your happiness. I realised that my heart could never be held by another. My warmth couldn't possibly be caressed from someone else, as it had to come from within my very own being. You and you only have the heart, the health, the energy and aura to calm your own heart.

I finally understood that sharing emotional turmoil with another, asking them to somehow help, was not the answer and eventually destroyed relationships. How can someone who’s free help with your own inner emotional stability? We repeat, repeat, repeat and repeat with the same results. Hold your own heart, calm your own voice and tell the voices to retreat. You can. You will. You must. Emotions do not control you as YOU control your emotions.

It might be easy to say, take a few moments to write, but emotional freedom is wondrous, a magical empathic journey where your mind and heart no longer torture your soul. The quiet within, the understanding for the world outside, is a gift that must be earned or at least understood.

Explore, digest, disregard, understand and enjoy emotion. Once you have your feelings under control the world becomes a better place and, under the right circumstances, you can let your emotions fly and everyone around you will smile.

Today...

Today, on this singular solitary motionless day, I died. I exhaled my last living loving breath.  You see, you've heard, you've even known, that today might be your last ever day on this wonderful world but do you, we, or I,  even consider that today might be the day?  Sure, of course, it’s obviously something that we seldom think about but, today, I had no choice.

On this last day I imagined all of the things that I’d wanted to do and, as I knew what was about to happen, I realised the wonders of the world. What if this were you, tomorrow, a day next week, what would you do and think before the event? Would you envision a wondrous rapture of woeful wishes?

Maybe you’d plan a trip to that special place that you've put off forever or, maybe, you’d speak the unspoken words that have rested within your tongue for an age. Would you run through fields like a crazy person, would you relax in a bubble bath of splendour and bliss or, even, be extra naughty and run wild throughout the day?

If I had a chance, if I’d have been given a choice, I’d have visited the last remaining countries in Europe. I’d have kissed everyone goodbye, in person, then smiled and laughed recalling the events of the long gone world. I might have borrowed a car for a quick test drive or laughed in the face of a politician.  I’d have written more, far more, expressed all that I needed to vanquish, required my mind to state, but that offering has now vanished like the air that we seldom see.

Don’t be afraid, release less than a tear, today is the day that I died and maybe I’ll live forever more. Think about it, realise the premise, understand what I'm trying to say and act. We believe ourselves to be immortal despite the evidence in our own skin. We understand the frailty of life yet fail, utterly fail, to what we wish to do. Are we afraid? Are we trapped? Maybe it’s a mixture of both. Money makes the world go round yet keeps us shackled to chains of life and little substance. How much is enough? What happiness shall it bring?

Today, this singular solitary motion filled day, I lived and did that extra little bit. Do more. Be more. Set your goal and go for it. Today might be your last day and after that… there’s nothing more to say.

In the last week 11,434 passed away in the U.K.  I know that it’s easy to say but we really do need to make our dreams come to life!

Footnote:

It’s been mentioned that I’m feeling depressed for writing these blog posts. Not at all. I’m actually quite happy but, like writing a sad song or expressing a thought, that moment or writing is that moment and not an expression of my actual, living, daily emotional and physical state.

Part of the Universe

Looking to the sky, the wilderness beyond our imagination, I envision a place of pure fantasy where we no longer fall down.  The holding of hands, the flowing clouds of wonder, it’s all there right above our minds. I could think all day, or while I sleep amongst those same said clouds, but when I’ve finished what I’m trying to say we’re but a speck of dust within the wonders of the universe.

Which way should I now look, left, maybe right, or back into the wonder of miracles? We think we’re special, we think that we’re above the imaginative creation of life but in all honesty we’re but specks of dust in the thoughts of our children. From another cloud I imagine that we’re all connected, together, in a puzzle of pure simplicity that may never be completed by human kind. Life can be simple, existence can be wondrous, yet each generation is committed to complete the same sins of their parents. Around and around, again and again, we all break then heal, we all make the same mistakes yet manage to smile and more.

What should I say, how can I remain standing, in the awe of what’s around each and every single one of us. We’re tainted by the lathering of monetary values, the need to have more and more while, at the same time, gasping to enjoy the simplest requirements that life can offer. We admire sunshine yet remain indoors. We flirt with destiny yet fear the first step. We hold our hands out to be loved yet push away the very people that could do just that. We’re waiting for perfection, the amazing painting that we’ve dreamed of since our first realisation of being together with another, while never realising that nothing, on this world, will ever be perfect.

Wait a moment, did I just write that, did I just mention that nothing on this world is perfect? I’m sorry, I apologise, I recant my expression, I erase the words with my lips and fall to one knee. The universe is perfect, this world is perfect, each kiss is perfect, each moment of holding a hand is above compare and, now that I think about it, each and every single one of us is a perfect painting of endless descriptive nature.

Looking back to the sky, the clear view within our eyes, I witness a mountain of amazing clarity. We are all connected, be it via blood,  moments, kisses or just that smile we’ve passed to another while walking through todays life. It is, unfortunately, a shame that we kill, we destroy, we damage and fail one another. We’re living in a perfect world, the endless universe of possibilities and, if we’d just spend a moment to turn off the devices that claim our lives, we’d realise that no matter what we think… we’re all, exactly, unusually, wondrously… the same. We’re human. We’re pure energy. We’re star elements. We’re amazing and, right now, alive.

Be magical. Be more.

Valentine's Day

Closing the door, while looking across the hallway, he placed the bags full of gifts onto the chair with care. He, after all, didn’t want to smash a luxury bottle of Coche-Dury Corton-Charlemagne Grand Cru all over the floor or, heaven forbid, crack a bottle of Hermes Perfume 24 Faubourg. He’d been extravagant, maybe even a little silly, but she was worth it.  To him, however, it was more than money. He appreciated her, loved her, wanted her and, above all, knew that they enjoyed each other.

His mind flicked through various thoughts, settling upon a number, realising that they’d been together for a year, maybe more, but during that time they’d managed to literally complement each other with ease. It was madness, nearly crazy, how they’d managed to find each other but the wait was worth it in the end.

Loosening his tie, from the corner of his eye, he noticed that the door across the room opened and, as he smiled, he knew she was there. Yeah, of course, he’d sent a text saying that he’d be home in 45 minutes but today was that day, the special day, where they were finally alone in a house with no interruptions or questions. Just the two of them. For hours. Finally.

As the Ermenegildo Zegna Venticinque silk tie slid away from the shirt he dropped it to the floor and raised his eyes to meet her view. His eyes settled onto her smile, her lips, onto those seductive eyes and, at that moment, he could feel his heart rate increase with each passing micro-second. She smiled, just a small smile, but that smile spoke volumes and expressed her intentions. Heck, even without the smile, he knew exactly what was on her mind especially seeing as she was wearing a Carine Gilson outfit. She’d shown him the outfit, in the retailers, a few weeks previous and, being him, he’d forgotten all about it until right now. In fact, as his eyes gazed upon the woman in front of him he’d never, ever, forget the outfit again.

Moving, slowly, towards her, he started to unbutton his shirt, one button at a time, ensuring that he could make this moment last as long as possible. After he reached the other end of the room he knew that it would all just be a blur of breathing, passion, a few loud words and a lot of lust. 

He’d spent the last few months trying to perfect his body, just for this night, as he’d spent quite a lot of time working and, as of last night at 18:00 hours, his project was over. His life could begin again, he’d reached his goals and right now he had perfection to achieve. The shirt slid from his frame and again, just like the tie, it fell to the floor. There were only a few more metres to go but he, again, intended to make them last. His slip on shoes quickly flew away, as did his socks. 

The belt moved through the holder and, pushing his thumbs into his trousers as to collect his HOM shorts, he stopped walking for the briefest moment as he pulled both of them down to the floor while keeping both eyes firmly looking at her. She smiled a little naughty smile as he stood straight again. He could feel her eyes start to look down and, of course, hopefully she’d appreciate all the hard work he’d put into getting to his current shape. He’d worked damn hard and, in a few moments, he was going to work even harder.

Finally, at last, she was there right in front of him. He stood so close as to take in her warmth, her aura. Leaning slightly forward he kissed her red lips and, as he moved to her neck, whispered, “I’ve missed you!” She replied that she’d also missed him with that voice of hers that got to him every single time. Looking back into her eyes he could feel himself getting hard and, although he loved her beyond compare, right now, he just wanted to show her how much he wanted her. “Happy Valentine’s day… I brought home a few presents!” She looked down and then, with her eyes, back into his, 

“I can see that“, she replied, “I’ve got something for you as well!”

Happy Valentine’s Day to the Lovers out there.

Once Upon a Time...

Once upon a time, a long time ago, there lived a heart that pounded with such force that whomever it met, wherever it lived, it would bring smiles and laughter. This heart, a heart amongst hearts, lived days of days, dreamed of magic during the night and awoke to see the world in such a passionate way. Some would say, others would whisper, many would fawn, but all would admire such beauty.

Once upon a time, not in that much of a distant past, the same heart grew from a mere child, a fledgling, a thought in training, to an experienced heart. It still went about its business with gusto, with pride, knowing that each day was but a gift from another power. Maybe, it dreamed, each day was created from a magnitude of hearts all wishing for something better than the day before.

Once upon a time, in years gone by, the heart started to feel, started to pine and wondered what else was out there. A heart beating, after all, required unity, a rhythm, a collaboration or majesty of ideals. With each passing day, the moving moments, the heart began to beat one less pulse each and every single day.

Once upon a time, a few years moved from memory, a heart met another heart and jumped for joy. Like an electric spark, a jolt of life, the heart beat faster than ever and truly found what it was like to fly. Although the heart knew that a world existed outside of its shell, its form, it could still feel the rhythm of its everlasting companion. They beat in unison, together, forever, maybe even longer and throughout each day and silent nights.

Once upon a time, within a day that should never be remembered, the heart awoke to find only its own tempo. It beat faster, then slower, then faster again. It panicked, bringing tears to the outside world, it tried to leap from its chest but found no solace or escape. Whimpering, screaming, begging for mercy or an end to it all, the beats faltered, the beats started to fail and only a whisper remained.

Once upon a time, after understanding and succour, with the resonance of others the heart started to find its cadence again. It wanted to skip, wanted to rise away from the depths of its feelings but the blood of old remained. Rising, slowly, away from it all the world started to become brighter. Once again did the beats recur.

Once upon a time, maybe even today, the heart remains strong and has understood the life that it has lived. It relishes the memories, beats for today and wonders about tomorrow. It has a strong beat, a confident beat, a resonance upon many and a pulse of magnificence.

…A happy ever after until that final day…

The Mountain

The small drops of sweat fall from my brow, moving with such speed that tired eyes barely struggle to find enough energy to focus. I place a hand onto the grass covered rock, steadying, stopping and taking a moment to exhale tragically beaten air taken from exhausted lungs. Looking around with squinting eyes due to the sunshine beating down onto my frame, heating, expelling further energy, ensuring that each step and thought is harder than the next.

With my other hand I rub my eyes, removing the grief sustained and built over the years, the moments that have made me blink in amazement, shock, fear or even moments of joy. It’s a struggle, it’s easy, it’s magnificent and above all, that great big mountain of life that we all must climb. I let go of the rock, placing my hands either side of my body and stretch my back. A smile reaches my mouth as my spine thanks me for the sudden gesture of relief, a few seconds respite, before I carry on forward.

I could say that the climb’s been hard, that it’s battered my body to within an inch of its life but, if I’m brutally honest, it hasn’t. Sure, yeah, I’ve had the moments of tears, the screaming aloud while driving, the seconds of anguish that still haunt my  heart and still present in my mind when I look to the side of my soul, but compared to others, compared to hidden moments, I’m thankful for what I have and where I’ve been.

I place a foot forward and then bring the other foot in front of the other, moving, again, inching away from the path trodden before. Each second, hour, day, moves me ever forward to the mountain top where I meet the end, the everlasting sunshine where everything turns to white and my smile finally fades. I know I cannot go back, I know that I have my memories of each person, of each place, of the kisses and crimes and weeks of silence.

I turn my head to look behind, to see what’s been left behind but I stop myself. Instead I look down and then, just then, I become sad knowing that I’ve made mistakes, I’ve said some awful things and done even worse but, when I look up the mountain, when I turn to look up again, that’s time that I can never get back, that I can never return to. I remind myself to let it go. I reprimand myself and silently apologise to those that I have wronged.

No, never, not again, not in this place, in my life and this moment. I must move forward and although I can see the distance in its faded fashion, although I can envision such a melody playing in the days to come, I know that each step I take on this very day, right now, will form what I hope will be my future. As my legs ache and my hearts forces me to venture again I take another step and, at the start of each day, that is all I can do. Take another step. Never give up. Never stop. Never fade. Never, ever, ever, let the people climbing the mountain next to you slow you down. It’s a challenge, it’s a kind of race, it’s all a certain conclusion that together or apart, we’ll all reach the top one day.

Another step moves forward and I notice that I no longer need to carry my guilt. I no longer need to feel the weight of the world on my shoulders. We can forgive, we may never forget, but why carry these things up this mountain? I stop, again, to reflect. I need this trip to be as light as possible, to be free of doubt, free of pain, light of heart and with eyes of hope. Licking my dry bottom lip I drop the guilt to the side of me, letting it fall into the wind and, as it flies away, I wonder why I hadn’t accepted my part in things years back. It may have taken those years, it may have weighed the same as a hundred hearts upon my shoulders, but once you accept what has happened you can let it go. It was my fault, it was your fault, it was the fault of the world but in the end… it matters not.

I move, smiling as I go, holding out my hands, waiting for another to place their faith onto my fingertips. I might be moving, people might be moving, but for a few moments, maybe even for a day or a year, I can hold the hand of another person. Let them go, welcome them in, never own them and let them be free. I ask nothing less or more on this journey.

I notice that I’m still smiling and, for some reason, each footstep is getting easier and a bit quicker. It takes a while but, in the end, life can get easier. My foot, along the way, has managed to get stuck a few times and although I asked for help, although I faltered, I knew that I always had the power to free myself from the quagmire. It is fear that halts all of us, it is pain that seems to make each of us weak, believing that we cannot climb on our own. Take that step, raise your weary body, dust yourself down and keep climbing.

Tomorrow, the next day, maybe in a few minutes, I’ll see you on the climb and, hopefully, I’ll be smiling and so will you. After all no-one ever said that this climb was going to be easy but, as long as we’re in charge of our footsteps, we have to make them count.

See you soon x