Heaven, is like lounging on a soft towel, listening to the waves as it empties on the beach, inundated by a sea of rock starts like surfers, immersing yourself on the art brazing the wall and letting go, losing your spirit in the breeze that was one cold Sunday afternoon. And just how the script read.
mind and spirit
Freedom is a choice, the right to act of your own free will, to make your own decisions without restrictions or limitations, have options without obstacles or hindrances, be the arbiter of your person without threat of prosecution. It is something I don’t take for granted nor discart as a pamphlet. Consisted of an array of decorative layers and unparallel benefits, a banner of honor of sorts, an emblem one must carry to remind oneself of those less fortunate screaming to have voice.
We live under the umbrella of “we are free to say what we feel and do whatever we want” that we often forget the world isn’t perfect as we become oblivious and accustomed to the comfort surrounding us, as there are places where a sneeze can land you in jail, your every move is monitored like a lost robot, your next door neighbor isn’t your neighbor but a bird with a mouth longer than a truck or one’s rights violated like a broken bicycle. You are expected to keep quiet, not express your free will, where living is synonymous to existing; the psyched game in its core.
I lived such a thing, fascism, communism or whatever that was but as a rebel, I have always been, “my name is,” which landed me in hot waters a few times with pride. I was never the one to see injustice and conform to it as “Shut up” were never two words I swallowed quietly. I guess I have always been my own can of soup, with a mixture of ingredients put inside a turkey; my yesterday with a story to tell.
I have been “free” for so long I have no idea how not to be “free” as I recall what being “in prison” feels like, the memories not so easily fading but at the same time, the price tag, equitable. I can’t complain, I lived comfortably under a microscope, if you can call that, living. It was a dictatorship; care to say a word?
The Super Flower Blood Moon
Can’t believe I stayed up, looking out of my window, stepping outside sometimes, snapping photos for a whole four and plus hours, observing the great phenomenon that is an eclipse but I did. I spent all those hours camera and cell phone for videos in tow, going up and down the stairs, checking often for the latest change and how far the earth had moved.
In between, something espiritual happened. Creatures came by to pay their respects, frogs, insects, birds, one specific flying landing this close, staying long enough I was able to snap a picture or few, I have never seen it in my life and will have to do a little digging to learn more about it; traffic in and out the neighborhood; music playing in the middle of the night loud enough I could hear; neighbors calmly walking by, returning from their late jobs or an outing with their friends…. life otherwise going, on an evening when many were already sleeping, reading for the week.
There is something always gratifying, exhilarating, fun about witnessing a natural phenomenon. I just get a kick when I see mother nature in action. It brings me joy!
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