Misshapen

         Sometimes in the night things show so little of themselves that the rest--the dark space--needs to be filled in with imagination. Walls disappear and objects elongate, fatten, separate like oil in water. You want to reach out and touch it to prove that it still exists in its glorious ordinary, but moving makes you dizzy. Moments come and go and even closing your eyes makes you feel odd, like you have been transfigured into half-cooled jello: Unable to keep shape. These happenings are no ones to blame. Brains just want to let you emulate them once in a while. "Look! This is my world." Maybe, just maybe, we become so aware of them in that moment we actually feel like the world has taken on their very characteristics. Soft pliable squishy elongating brilliance. Outside of the shell. Outside of the comfort zone. Outside of where it is safe. We are all just like brains.
          When we are wrapped in our layers and cushioned in our own squishy substance, hard shell to keep the world out, we find solace in existing. Let the shell go where it will, but we are well. Of course, things get in sometimes. Sometimes it gets a little crowded in there. No room. Our world isn't large enough. THe brain then squishily dies. What if it could crack it's way out of the shell though? What if it could rebuild a bit bigger and stronger. from the inside out? rise up brain! Do something about your small world, it is taking you and squishing you and changing your shape. You can't live long. But it can't do that. It will simply die. Unless, of course, a surgeon helps it out a little. Cleans up the mess, but the room stays the same once the professional lets it be. Just a little cleaner until it crowds again. But not I. Not we.
            We rise up! We crack the shell we stopped fitting in, grew too big for. We remodel, build new rooms, taller and grander than before. All so we can think bigger of course. So we can let more people in, more art, more music, more ideas, more everything. The importance of adding on. Of getting our space so we don't squish. That is uncomfortable. It hurts to be misshapen; even if we don't know it. So we build on.

Moonlight

         The night sky is breathtaking. Vast with texture. Depths of stars on infinite levels, galaxies and formations uncounted, but in the constant is the joy of the moon. Less time being full, it shows only parts of itself and always has a dark side. Theory has filled it's history; perhaps Earth's greatest friend. Sharing distant sunlight in the night sky, constant. But everyone needs a day off. New moon. Time for itself. It guides tides. Mysterious fellow, anagram for the human soul: A great place to start if you are on your way to the sun. I think we twinkle like stars before we play moon, then we must learn how to ignite.
          Of course, science writes it all differently. Stars are suns, moons are lifeless, the Sun is just a cute little guy in the grand universe we live in, but ponder for a moment what it means to us. This is our Sun, stars, moon. Luna. Our very own night guard to guide the waves and fill the fields with silver. My favorite walking light.

Honored

       Terms of endearment always speak to me, delicious candy coating to help questions and answers. Sometimes they don't taste right--like candy coating a Dorito--but many times they complete a most wonderful sentence. Honored is one of those. Honored is a word of words. It speaks of good and noble things. It insinuates not only gladness at doing, but class and responsibility and attention and thanksgiving.. Honored to be here. Honored to travel with you. Honored to share with you. Honored to live. I am honored often.
       I think being honored in life, taking carpe diem as a call to some joyous, is the essential of all Men and Woman that love life. A sense of gratitude and fulfilling at any given task. A sense of peace and joy and rightness. Rich.
      Truly being honored is beyond pride, it is finding greatness in things beside power. It isn't so much the being honored, but the what you are being honored for. Being honored to care, to love, to create, to play dolls with your youngest sister. Being honored to be with someone that according to worldly ways isn't valued, but because of greatness of a different sort (some of the greatest are invisible to the eye) you are joyed, attentive, and full in their presence. Truly being honored to find it.
       I have had many honors in life, things that have carried weight to me in a meaningful sense. My prayer is that the things that carry weight for me may be things that carry weight for my Father in heaven. That they may have been truly meaningful in his eternal eyes. I would match my honors to his so that I don't flutter at passing cars and raucous acts. But truly employ the word honor in it's best sense. Be honored with every insinuation of joy at life. True joy at having a full respect for the most glorious life I have been given and the people in that life.
       I am honored.

Differing styles

          I am an upholder of individuality. That everyone is of a different mettle, and that everyone must learn to understand one another. We all face the object of trying to realize that our eyes, though we know how they see, are not what others see with. A humbling sentiment. We face perspective, idea, and the unknown. Why do others do what they do? A valuable question (tool).
          "Understanding what we don't understand" Living with the acceptance that others live too and in their own way. Ways we may not understand. Like everyone's different language. A bucket in any other language is not a bucket. It is something else. But it is still a bucket, and we can let it be whatever it is for them. That is how it must be. Perhaps language is meant to help us accept differences in others. If someone can speak an entirely different language, then perhaps they can see something different when they look at a Monet or polka-dotted masterpiece. Or at us. Or at a hello. Or at a goodbye. Or at a joke. It only gets more complex from there, but no matter what it translates to we can put offense aside if we allow ourselves to give them their understanding. To let them translate and not be angry when what they see with their wholly unique eyes is different from what we meant, and be joyed when they give us the time and the thought to truly understand.
         To understand (or to accept and become fascinated with our lacking of it) is to become unified, to have friends, to love, and to enjoy everyone. To be open to jewels and beauties, to DISCOVER them in places not our own! Things that we needed someone elses eyes to see. Thus we can gain an entire world if we sacrifice the walls of our own. If we are willing to see stars and fields beyond our personal self. Living life with 6 billion people.