Finding The Other Person

These days, I see other people posting deep things on social networks like Facebook, and I start to think how vain it is to put important content or anything with a more serious personal tone on a place like a corporate social network. Have we become such frail and hollow beings that we no longer find independence? This is why it is important for me to have a journal and a space to pen my more personal and intimate thoughts with a maturity that no social network is worthy of.

While stating the obvious above, here’s what’s on my mind…

I cannot change who I am for anyone but can be supportive and caring and understanding of someone else who is different. Yes, I have my struggles but the Creator knows what’s in my heart. We all have a purpose and a mission in this life. I’m trying to make sense of mine.

I would like to find someone who is wise beyond their years, with a deeper spiritual awakening about the world, and the universe and all of creation, but doesn’t care so much for our secular society where all the mundane norms become overbearing. There would be a strong affinity between this individual and me that comes loaded with absolute certainty neither of us could deny; something confirmed by a Higher Power. The Universe/Multiverse is infinite and I am aware of it as I dwell in the corners of God’s imagination. Love is simply being content and grateful for what God, the Creator, has given you. Love, through all of it’s expressions works in mysterious ways with an intelligence that even becomes eternal.

Writing a journal through these technologies enables a sturdy place for record keeping. Every day, the internet is being recorded and archived for future generations. Keeping this record let’s those who read it in the future know what was going through my mind, historically. Really, though, sometimes a serious thought and introspection is worth writing and then contemplating on.

I was inspired to say something meaningful! I’m happy in my own skin as I have matured over the years while facing the music. As an individual, my happiness comes from within and my desires and needs have changed over time. I’m still young, with so much life ahead. I hope the Creator helps me determine a destiny and guides me on where I need to go and lets me know what needs to get done.

Early in the Morning

This morning I listened intently to whistling robins. They were chirping and cheering with an early morning joy. The lovely noise filled me with a bright primordial bliss. There’s a storm rolling in from the desert. The whirling gusts of cold shifting air whip the Ponderosa trees in the yard. The past three days the summer temperatures have spilled into the 90’s but alas the nimble clouds have come to pay Cedar City a visit. Their approach is most anticipated. Never curse the moisture that the Creator provides!

Thankyou God for Canyon Country

Thank you Heavenly Father for this blessing of harmony. I am so grateful to be a part of the colorful landscape. Canyon Country runs in my blood. It is a part of my soul. When I become old, I want my carcass dumped in a flash flood gully where coyotes may discover my discarded flesh and laugh with joy. May they fill their empty bellies and be content. That is a powerful and pleasant thought.

All around is sand and plateau, the homeland of the Anasazi. Their presence is felt on the ancient wind. Their whispers whistle through pinion and juniper. A spectacular thunderhead trails across the landscape with a cloud shadow dumping rain on the thirsty landscape. The aroma of lightning and wet sage fills the air. Red Indian Paintbrush, Yellow Mustard and Prickly Pear flowers paint the pretty desolation. Welcome to the beauty of Mother Earth and a turquoise Father Sky.

My heart is filled with love for all of God’s creations – for the wailing wind that sings in desert pines. Listen to the old ways when the wasteland shimmers and conjures the past. Like a flickering movie the vision comes alive. My imagination evokes the dreams and they mix with hot summer daylight and rolling thunder. The sweltering sun bakes the land while the thunderhead is an escape from the ultraviolet furnace.

I sweat profusely in the intense dry as the dark rain heads towards my camp. The wind pushes the thunderhead swiftly. The junipers sing with the oncoming assault. Amazing! I’m taking cover in a red nylon tent that flaps and whips violently against the oncoming gusts. The thunderhead descends on my camp ground and strikes full throttle dropping golf-ball-sized rain drops that pound the earth without mercy. The dry beige colored dirt quickly turns dark and saturated rusty brown. A sudden flash of lightning strikes the ground followed by a deafening crack of thunder. As the ground trembles I feel the humbling power of nature.