Skipping Stars

Today she found out who she was
and what a fool you are
to waste the dream you chanced upon
when you stumbled on a star.
You picked it up with awe
figured… nah… it couldn’t be
and like a common pebble
you skipped it out to sea.

Out on the open ocean
the ball of flame still burned
shining further from your reach
you felt your stomach turn.
The damage is now done-
too late you realize
the best thing ever in your hand
just vanished from your eyes.

But the star burns on and brightly
as it floats out on the sea
and shores and boundaries give way to
endless possibility…
The star inside her thanks you
for throwing her away
to a place where she could grow
to the SUN she is today.

Found some of my scribbles that I’d tucked away somewhere.  Will probably post them here and there as they come to me.  Not to worry, I have not gone back on The Resolution!  Just a few reminders here and there why I made it in the first place. 

Jump dammit!

There are three frogs on a log, two of them decide to jump off the log.  How many frogs are on the log?

In answer to my tweet yesterday I got one answer I didn’t expect.  “Three.  There were two logs”.  (Uh huh.  You tink you funneee?) The answers I DID expect were 1 or 3.  They DECIDED but did they jump?

There are four types of people in my world.  Thinkers, Talkers, Doers, and Wasters.  Think about it for a minute.

The Thinkers (the frogs that decide), The Doers (the frogs that actually jump), The Talkers and The Haters.  I believe everyone can be put into one of those four categories without exception.  And if you honestly assess yourself and find you are in none of the first three categories you will be at home, no doubt, in the naturally unhappy fourth category residing in Haterville.

Each of these categories has a definite purpose in life.  Thinkers think up the things that the Doers then do, after which the Talkers launch the final product to the world.  And then the Haters pile on to find fault with one or all of the others, intending to be negative, but adding positive effect to the attention solicited by the Talker.  If you don’t have Haters, you’re doing something wrong, right?  (Is it Jersey Shore or some other awful TV program I have to thank for that little gem?)

A few nights back I had a conversation with a recently made acquaintance.  It left me rankled and prickly.  He started with the sticky compliments that naturally sent my wall up.  I shut him down calling him a Talker, and to my dismay he took it as a challenge.  Blows back and forth later, and following my suggestion that he be a Doer like me and quit talking about silly things he never intends to do, he suggested that it is me that is the Talker.

I was immediately VEXED!  But stepping back I looked at the bigger picture and counted to ten.  Young guy, we just met, instant message conversation easily misunderstood, and … hell… why do I have to answer to him anyway?  My final conclusion, after calm and forgiving consideration, is that he can merrily go to Hell.

Something did come out of the tit-for-tat – some of my own truths.  Talkers frustrate the gastric juices out of me when they come disconnected from thought and action.  But Thinkers exhaust me too, particularly good ones, when their ideas stay on their drawing board never seeing the light of day and never benefitting humanity as they rightfully should.  Haters don’t make it past the first meeting.  They go into the spam box of my life.  But a Doer now… a Doer I can forgive just about any flaw.  They can do and do and do and fall down and get up and fall down and get up and make mistake after mistake and I GET IT. I really do.

I leap before I look.  I throw blows and ask questions later.  I fling myself out the romantic window and nurse the bruises after the haircut.  It is my nature.  I am a Doer.

There is sooo much to do.  And sooo little time.  This thought sometimes actually depresses me because I realize that even if I were to live to a million years old I would never have every single life experience that I want to have!  Worse, there is so much to be, so much to learn, so much space to grow, so much to say, so much to read, so many roads to travel, so much to taste, eat, drink, try out, fail at… how could one ever commit to any one thing?

It must be so much easier to be Hindu.  If I were Hindu I could plan this thing out.  This life I’d be me – a twin in the womb, born alone, talking at six months, reading in 4 years, always singing, always dancing, always reading, swimming, studying law, playing the piano, singing, eating, cooking, drinking, learning spanish, running a company, singing… and maybe marry a nice man, have a couple of crazy kids, fly around the world in my retirement.  Simple life really until I die happy knowing that in my next life…

…I’d be the opposite of who I am now, become a prostitute, live a mercenary life, meet a rich john, get him to pay for my extravagant lifestyle, never have a child, watch every calorie  going into my mouth, exercise twice a day, never read a book, watch lots of TV, be obsessed with fashion, be perfect physically and damaged in every other way (which is the correct balance of course)…

…and then the following life would be spent in religious service, as a vegetarian, never touching strong drink, virgin for life, yoga every morning…

…and the next one would be in fulltime academics…

…and the next one would be in extreme sports…

…and finally, when I am out of good ideas, I’ll spend a life as a man.

But while I remain at home in my christian context, I’m just gonna jump.