New Becomings

  "Youth is the gift of nature, but age is a work of art." - Stanislaw Jerzy Lec Arriving at the crossroads of a primal scream and a calm wisdom, the fire of younger days are tempered into a slow burn, flickering into the steady pull of grace; no longer one to rush or chase, and moving with the certainty of tides, this inevitable presence is the setting sun shining on the rising moon. Here is a maturity that does not boast or demand attention, but a lingering specter, heavy with the weight of lives touched, dreams shaped, and storms weathered. Space itself is drawn to this gravity, a poise that doe s not sparkle with the need to catch the eye - it gleams like polished gold, soft and steady, asking nothing more. Time has pressed and wrought a strength that is quieter than steel but infinitely more lasting. To listen more than to speak, yet with a voice, when necessary, carrying the echoes of lessons hard-won and heartbreak understood. There is no bitterness in this wisdom, no...

  When I was around 10 years old, I somehow realized that I didn't think in words, so I asked people around me: "Do you think?... Like, in sentences, with words?" Blank stares and looking upward for an answer, friends tried to describe their thought processes - I asked again just a few weeks ago, some friends and I were hanging out - The answers, basically, were all "yes", they thought with words. I've come to understand my lack of internal wordiness, ironic for a writer, as "unsymbolized thinking." Every moment pulses with an insistence, waiting to be pierced, lifted to the mouth of my mind, and chomped with fervor; life itself is woven with subtle threads of metaphor. The world is a reflection of something more profound, yet elusive - I chase it relentlessly and never quite catch it. There's another term I came across years ago, as an adult, which is "aphantasia" - the inability to visualize. I had read about the power of visualizat...

 "A man without ethics is a wild beast loosed upon this world." ~Albert Camus In the wilds of the animal kingdom, 'survival of the fittest' dictates that those best adapted to their environment through physical strength, strategic cunning, or social cooperation, will thrive and propagate their genes. The Darwinian concept, central to evolutionary biology, underscores the brutal and unforgiving struggle for dominance and survival. While this law of nature governs the animal world, it also provides a lens through which we can examine human societies and political systems - a glimpse into how humans, even with our elevated reasoning and grandiose sense of selves, in the evolutionary cycle of things, are still just animals.   The animal world operates on a relatively simple principle: the strongest, smartest, and/or the most adaptable organisms will survive, while the weaker or less adapted perish. Whether it's a lion hunting in the savannah or an antelope evading cap...

  A disorder is rapidly developing, infecting the disaffected, festering within minds of fractured internal states, and spreading across society: Narcissism. Narcissism is a particularly insidious affliction, slithering through our lives, disguised as charm, power, and seductive allure. But beneath the surface lies something more sinister; an insatiable hunger for validation, a constant need to be admired, desired, adored, and the center of attention. For those who unwarily fall victim to narcissistic assault, it can feel like being caught in a never-ending whirlwind, spun around by someone else's need to feel superior and in control. The abusers, the aspiring puppet-masters, will leave their fragile prey crumpled in a shadow of who they once were.  In this growing societal dynamic between exploiters and victims, what's lost is the victims' sense of autonomy, its agency, they no longer recognize who they are in this world - but here is where the antidote lies... Self-Esteem...

  Slipping into a nebulous void, an insidious breadth and depth, weightless, yet heavy to the wandering mind. Reeling in and out of reality, crashing into the walls of corporeality and hitting the coveted ceiling; heavens or annihilations. All those flies of bygone beliefs are still desperately trying to escape through sealed windows to the future outside. Life flickers and fades as the viewfoils of time slowly unravel in the almighty projector once portraying a divine storyline – in these moments, Truth reveals itself, in fits and starts, in togethers and aparts. The hollow echo of grand anecdotes and abandoned laughter is a tragicomedy with a variety of obscure monologues, punchlines, and epilogues. Melancholy and nostalgia braid a kind of mirthful misery in the theatre of existence. The outer world continues to swirl, oblivious to all the grief and gratitude attending the performance inside – revealing revenants from other dimensions, reminding the congregation of what still...

Codes, patterns, archetypes, frequencies, particles and waves - We are all of these; manifested and manifesting. Since about the age of 15, I began a journey of trying to decipher these uniquely embodied qualities. The intangible energies that animate our behaviours and aspirations are more relevant to our existence than the physical bodies we develop, maintain, and watch decay in the density of this corporeal reality; and when these archetypal codes are understood to a degree of mental/emotional clarity - synchronous effects and visceral edification appear like lighthouses in the darkness created by the fears of our unanswered questions.  40 years later, I continue to use those lighthouses as guideposts, a hermit's lantern, to make decisions that may not seem rational at the time- yet, I have never been steered wrong. My life is a testament to it; slowly and steadily manifesting/discovering more than my mind alone can predict. I cannot see beyond the next lighthouse, but I trust t...