Peaceful Regards

I have returned! And the getting was good, as they say. Thanksgiving now in the past, I can say without a doubt the weekend of rest and relaxation was much needed, and much appreciated. I feel rejuvenated and ready to roll – and given that finals, graduation and the last stages of my internship are now going to be barraging me over the next couple weeks, and everything’s coming to a head, that’s definitely a plus. If you see a little cutback in the creative flow over the days to come – do not fear, I shall return to normality eventually, but ’tis the season of much busywork, leaving my time a precious thing.

That said, I hope you all have a fine Thanksgiving weekend yourselves! For those of you in the states, at least. And to those of you abroad, I hope the week in general treated you well.

As I’ve recently seen on the news, however, not everywhere was having quite so happy a time as I. Most notably I refer to the ongoing madness in the Koreas, artillery and war games oh my. It seems war’s always looming just around the bend, in one place or another. Doesn’t help that, as in the Koreas, peace has never truly been declared. I know everyone’s on pins and needles to see how things turn out today, as the U.S. and South Korea kick off those war games amidst North Korea’s latest stunts…and it is in that vein that this week’s quotes find me making an implore for peace. We could all use some, if only for a little while.

“There is no way to peace, peace is the way.”
~A.J. Muste

“If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other.”
~Mother Teresa

“An eye for an eye only ends up making the whole world blind.”
~Mohandas Gandhi

“Peace is not something you wish for; It’s something you make, Something you do, Something you are, And something you give away.”
~Robert Fulghum

Birthday Thoughts

“The great challenge of adulthood is holding on to your idealism after you lose your innocence.” ~Bruce Springsteen

Well, well, the day has come. According to society, I’m a man now.

Twenty one years have come and gone, and while I’ve been able to go off and die now for the past three years, I am now apparently old enough to legally have at the alcohol. Michigan, true to form, however, seems to have little interest in embracing summer just for such a silly little occasion, though. Clouds encompass everything in swirls of gray and black, threatening rain without ever working up the energy to do so. Lovely–I just hope it’s not a sign of things to come.

Regardless, I take this to be a time of reflection. Nearly a quarter of a century has come and gone–and the real world looms so near. College is nearly at its end, and I suppose I’m to be all grown up now. Will I be ready when the time comes?

I suppose many people ask themselves the same question. I wonder how many have the answer.

Of a Morning’s Creativity

Sleep, I’m beginning to think, is something of a double-edged sword.

No one, and certainly not I, will deny that it feels good. That morning stretch. That clarity that comes in the waking, body taut, eyes open—a lazy embrace of the sun on your skin, and the warmth in every breath. The slumber brings life.

But that life is capped, in some regards. All that energy draws me on, vaults me into the myriad bounties of action, but it distracts. The clarity purges more than just the bad from my mind—in its relentless sweep, so too does it strike away the creativity.

I can write when I am awake. I can read, of course. But the edge to my thoughts are lost, the shine dulled down into bland mediocrity. My world and my actions are clear, but my thoughts are strained. The flow is lost, replaced by strict attention—good for the editing, poor for the writing. I feel a fog as I wake dreaming, and it is the press through this great darkness that brings me satisfaction.

The body suffers, so the mind wakes.