in the end, there is stillness all around.
for better or for worse, the calm always overcomes.

does this then mean that the destruction will be forgotten?

days pass and the spirit survives. those who cursed the sky learn to forgive. this is, after all, just the natural order of things.

the forces that took such a toll yesterday will soon become mundane .  once control is reclaimed, what power do they have?

clouds will always continue to gather.

once a storm passes though, it will never occur again. it might become a footnote in history – a story to pass along to others who have undertaken the journey – but never again shall it’s will be imposed.

clouds will always continue to gather.
this is, after all, life.

but the rain, the rain will not forever fall.

he pleaded for them to leave him be, and thankfully, they seemed to stand down this time. being caught in the darkness of his own shadow was, quite honestly,  enough of a distraction.

so he forged ahead, leaving nothing but destruction in his wake.
nothing safe, nothing sacred.

to never return to that place his ultimate goal. straight ahead.  alive, finally. everything safe, everything sacred.
a dream realized?

the wolves retreated as the moonlight they once used to guide them in their hunt reluctantly relinquished power over to the reassuring light of morning.

the warmth of the new sun was noticeable but still felt oddly out of place as it slowly stalked through the sky – it’s rays everywhere and nowhere all the same. revealing everything. revealing nothing.

it didn’t seem real.
it doesn’t seem real.

out of the grave comes that which was once destroyed.
a sleeping giant awakened.  fear it, but do not stand in it’s way.

it cannot be real.
it has to be real.

wounds may not ever heal. sometimes they shouldn’t.

things will never be the same. and in a way, i’m thankful for that.

i can hold my head high, and as a result, i will overcome.
blessings come in many forms.  i pray this, too, is one.

i long for the moment where there is no question, there is no doubt, there is no emptiness. only warmth, comfort, and peace.

i refuse to be defeated, but i’ll always remain aware. i’ve been tested before – and though it’s never quite been in this manner, i have overcome. i will overcome. i must overcome.

for me.

for you.

for me.

when given the opportunity, the world around you will let you down.
expect nothing. assume nothing. nothing is sacred. everything is fair game.
this is the last time.  that was the last time.
it will only go uphill from here.

as the days get shorter and the air gets colder , i will be reborn.
it will be a fight. it will be a struggle.

but this will not defeat me.

you will not defeat me.

Max Richter – ‘The Blue Notebooks’

When I was a child, one of my favorite pastimes during the waning months of the year was watching the seasons change. My grandparents resided on a few acres of beautiful farmland upstate and my family used to visit several times a year; Mom always called it a chance to ‘refill our batteries’, a phrase that was understandably confusing for a young child. Oh the questions that flowed around my mind! “Where are my batteries??”, “What if they die before I get the chance to recharge them? Will I be able to move or speak without them?”, “Do I ever have to replace them?” Those are just some examples of worries I once had.  The innocence of a youngster is a magical thing.

These adventures to the farm were wonderful for me and while I was sure to make the most of them each time they occurred (after all, I had to make sure my batteries were good and charged, I didn’t want to run out at a key moment during the year – like an important playground kickball game, or something equally as exciting), I loved our autumn visits the most.  There was an old, wooden swing tucked away in the Eastern corner of the farm that seemed to be strategically placed in order to maximize the surrounding beauty that the swing’s occupants got to witness.  From that swing, I had a great view of both the lake I loved swimming in during the warm summer months and the nearby woods I ventured into every once in a while when I built up the nerve. During these fall trips though, I rarely  felt the urge to explore those woods or try to convince my parents that, in fact, it was not too cold to swim; instead I was perfectly content sitting in the swing, watching the breeze catch the weary leaves  in it’s grasp. As if with a million tiny hands, the wind would pluck the leaves  from their home up in the trees to take them on their last journey before they would fall to the same earth from which they once were born.  A journey I may not have completely understood the logistics of at the time, but was awed and touched by all the same. There was a beauty in this yearly cycle that I could not put wrap my head around, but appreciated it more then I can begin to share with you.

When I listen to Max Richter’s ‘The Blue Notebooks’ album, I’m immediately transported back to that farm, that swing, that season, that beauty.  Gorgous and understated, this album is a must have for any readers who have an appreciation for beautiful, emotional, and relaxing neo-classical music. Close your eyes, and imagine yourself on that old, rickety swing on a brisk November day. Allow yourself to feel the cool breeze against your face and hear it as it slowly, strategically makes it’s way through the treetops..rustling the branches and threatening to take any remaining inhabitants along on it’s slow march towards a barren winter.  As the melodies held within these strings and these piano keys rise and fall, so too does your chest as you breathe in the cool air and you find yourself surprised by the warmth that can be found in melancholy.  Richter’s inclusion of traces of minimalist electronic ambience is impactful as well, at times flushing out an already lush soundscape, and at others giving the music the slight hints of levity at the perfect moments.   Allow yourself to get lost in the music.  Allow it to be a soundtrack to a calm moment or the instigator of a peaceful dream..I believe that’s what music such as this was created for. Really listen. Hear how the spoken word passages from the pages of Kafka and Milosz accentuate the music. Hear the story Richter is telling you; the story he is telling us.  Allow yourself to get lost in the music because sometimes, that’s the best way to find yourself.
My name is Benjamin Miller, and I love this music.
I hope you decide to give the record a chance.
It’s worth it.

close your eyes and take a deep breath.

it begins, it ends, and it begins again.

one day, everything will be ok.

for those fleeting minutes, i haven’t a care in the world.
i’m just happy to be alive.

what does it say about a person when nearly every choice they make in their lives with the complete intent to do nothing but better themselves and their situation backfires and has the complete opposite result?  is the person himself a failure or is it just a matter of him not having found that perfect storm of a life situation yet and he should keep his head up and press on? surely, the correct answer is the latter, but when one is knee deep in the everyday muck of life and his head is clouded with nothing but the after-effects of all the negatives he has endured, it becomes very very difficult to maintain a glass-is-half-full attitude towards his life and the world in general.

i remain standing in the dead center of one of my life’s most important crossroads, and every time i choose a direction and begin on my merry way, i subsequently always come to find that the road has been closed. why is this? what is it about me that brings these issues to the forefront, when countless other people, arguably many less deserving, are able to continue down their chosen roads without obstruction, detour, or regret?

life may never make sense to me.
that might be my biggest fear.

the rescue boats need to hurry. i can’t tread water much longer.
i don’t want to drown.
drowning is not an option.  i hope.