The Muse Be Willing

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  • On the Road

    There once was a road and the road ran winding over hill and dale, it went through woods and fields and wound its way ever so far. Farther than the eye could see, even after traveling on the road for days, it seemed like it would never end. One wondered whether one would come to where one started on the road. “Perhaps the road goes around the planet”, someone said.
    “What’s a planet?”, people asked.
    “It’s what we’re standing on,” said another.
    “We’re standing on dirt”, said someone else.
    “What are you silly things talking about,” said a woman with dark hair, and a long dress covered with a multitude of colorful swirls.
    “We live on a big ball of dirt, rocks, and other stuff.” She waved her extended arms and hands around, gesturing to the grass, the trees, and the clouds. “Everything is on the big ball or planet.”
    “Yeah?”, a voice said.
    “Yeah”, she said. “And the ball is floating in space.”
    Blank looks appeared on many faces.
    “Space, you know space,” she said. “At night, when you see the stars. They are in space. The stars are like our sun. You know the big, hot, bright thing in the sky. It just floating out there, and so is this ball of dirt. So there,” the dark haired woman said.
    “Just floating? Is it?” said the doubter, “how’s that possible? We never see anything floating around.” “Well, it’s complicated,” said she.
    “I know,” a little girl said, “its invisible magic.”
    “It’s not magic, it’s science,” said the skinny boy with glasses.
    “Yes, science magic,” the little girl responded.
    “Alright, whatever,” replied the boy. “But you should know how the magic works,” said the boy and his glasses reflected the sunlight into the girl’s eyes, and she put her hand up to shield them.
    “I know. Your glasses are hurting my eyes,” the girl said, wincing.
    “Sorry,” said the boy, as he took off his glasses. He didn’t like to wear them, because when he moved his eyes to look at things, the frame was in the way, and by the time he moved his head, whatever it was he wanted to see, had already moved, or changed somehow and was no longer what it was.
    “Can you explain how the science magic works? ” the boy said, blinking because his eyes had to adjust to seeing without glasses.
    “Do I have to,” said the girl. She knew she could everything, but it took so much time, focus and concentration that it wore her out.
    “I’m getting back on the road because that’s where we need to be. We need to get back on the road. If we’re going to finish exploring this road, we need to get moving,” said the conductor.
    “Why do they call you a conductor,” the girl said.
    “Because he conducts himself well,” said the boy, smiling. The eyes of the conductor narrowed.
    “I’m getting back on bus, train, plane, boat, or whatever it is we are traveling on,” said the dark haired woman.
    “It’s a combination of all,” said the girl.
    “And so it is,” said the dark-haired woman as she climbed aboard.
    “Is there room enough for all of us,” said a big lady?
    “We all got off, we can get back on,” conductor said, annoyed and confused with such a ridiculous question, And so they did climb abroad one by one, some waiting while others walked up the steps. The massive conveyance swayed and rocked slightly when the big woman stepped on.

  • Final Curtain Call

    I am drawing close to the final straw, the final node, the final piece to the puzzle.
    Soon it will fit together in a beautiful cohesive whole, and I will be very happy.
    I will be incredible pleased and there will occur a great new insight that will shatter my mundane concept of the world, and I shall be unable to contain my joy and good humor.
    I know that it is only a matter of time before my goal is achieved, and I will be incredibly pleased when the truth comes to the world’s attention and what I previously thought was real, will turn out to be a figment of my limited imagination.
    I am moving with some glimmer of hope that the reality that I create will be incredibly good natured and a source of good will for everyone to enjoy. I am moving forward with the confidence and faith that I must constantly renew in my mind, so that the harbinger of doom cannot win the battle and embroil my life in some hellish nightmare. We are almost there, so I am holding the torch high, lighting the faith of my peace and happiness with the glow of my love for the possibilities that are threatening to shatter the darkness of despair and compel me to practice laughter in my mind and heart in a rehearsal soon to be held on a cosmic stage.

  • Story: A Simple System – 1

    It was a breezy fall day, the leaves were flying. I was on my way to a lecture where an esteemed activist, of my acquaintance, was scheduled to talk about the dangers of GMO food production.
    I was not looking forward to it. It seemed that the GMO nightmare was inevitable. The powers that be, would have to wake up to the real life compromises they would have to make, before they changed their profiteering plans. And that wasn’t likely to happen, and I flinched at my negative attitude. What happened to my optimism and positivity? I halted the negative wave that was trying to overtake my consciousness.
    The talk was free. Entry to the auditorium was easy. A few people stood outside talking amongst themselves.
    Another reason, I had decided to attend, was based on a rumor that agents, spies, whatever you want to call them, were planning to be there. I personally couldn’t see why they would bother. Here was a another small potato of an activist, who was merely adding to the public awareness, by reminding many of us, and informing a few about the dangers and opportunistic nature of GMO food producers.
    And something else seem to be drawing me there. My mind sought to build elaborate schemes of deceit, and adventurous cloak and dagger opportunities, but I resisted, knowing that I needed to resign myself to a bored life of watching the intrigue from the safety of my living room.

    I got there late, so Harold, standing behind a podium, dressed in a old sport coat and slacks, faded new shirt, no tie, with his straight long, greying hair combed back, had already launched into his tirade, or as close to one as he was going to get.

    “I’m dismayed that a couple of prominent science personalities have been sweet talked into believing that GMO science is okay.
    Their argument is, that genetic modification is nothing new. They claim that it has been around for many years. They like to brow beat the non scientists, the general public, to get with the program. They fail to address a significant aspect of the GMO effort that will cause the most harm. And that is, if my sources are correct, GMO companies, that were first chemical companies and are now food production companies, are modifying food crops to resist their poisonous, to people and the environment, pesticides and herbicides.
    The big bonus, that the pro-GMO coalition, claims is that their new modified seeds produce more food per acre, that is also more nutritious. That brings me to the second secret agenda behind the GMO effort: seed monopolization. GMO giants want to hold the rights over food production, thus attempting to strangle hold the world in a profit-mad drive to market dominance.
    What can you do about it? Don’t buy either the GMO hype or the GMO products that the sweet talking, duped GMO scientists are promoting.”
    Harold went on about how the powerful interests driven by greed, would do anything to convince the populace that they are good guys.
    As I sat there, I began to let go, I relaxed my grip on the physical world, colored lights slowly manifested. Each human form gradually revealed several layers of shimmering, vibrating light, some more spectacular than others. This was the basis of my “uncanny” ability to know the character of anyone within my view. I scanned the room for a cloud of light with dark specks or gray hue. There was something odd not far from me, where I had seen a woman before. There was no light. It was disturbing on a different level. I quickly shifted back to physical sight long enough, to see that there was in deed a woman there. How is that possible? I wondered. Android? Immediately the thought came to me. Why here? And how can that be, that degree of realism has only been seen in the movies.
    My mind began to tune with that world of self learning, automated technology. I to stop myself. I had to stop conceptualizing about the android, and survey the remainder of the room. On the opposite side of the room, I detected a man leading against the wall. I could easily tell, his motives were treacherous. He appeared to be looking my way, but then I realized that he was watching the android woman, and occasionally glancing up at Harold on the stage. The leaning man and android were connected somehow, I realized. Is he controlling her. As inconspicuously as I could, I studied him. He had one hand on his chin, the other holding up his chin arm. Were his lips moving? It was difficult to tell. Was he communicating with the android through some wireless medium?
    I looked back at the android. She seemed to be studying Harold, and he was closing his talk and thanking everyone for coming. A minute later, people were congregating at the stage to get his autograph. Others were leaving or stood talking with other attendees.
    I felt awkward. I felt that I must do something, either walk toward the exit, or move toward the stage, since there no one near me with whom I could talk, and I didn’t want to get caught up anyone anyway. I noticed that the man was moving toward the exit, so I decided to follow him. I hadn’t gone more than a few steps, before I had an impulse to look back toward the stage. The android was already there. I couldn’t decide what to do. What if she posed some danger to Harold? She looked harmless, and non aggressive. Could she be a walking bomb. No! There were too many detection devices between the lecture hall and the entry to the building. No known explosives would have gotten this far.
    I looked back to see where the man was. He was no where in sight. No reason to look for him now, when this woman may be the best source of information. I watched her, as I moved toward the stage. She hung back, as others got their autographs and jabbered with Harold.
    When last person walked away from Harold, the woman quickly filled the void. I was still several rows away from the stage, and there was a cluster of people in my way. I felt an impulse to rush forward, while at the same time wondering how I would look, suddenly bursting past people.
    Harold seemed startled to see her, he straightened, with a frown on his face, he resignedly nodded. He picked up his satchel, tucked his papers into it, and gestured with his head toward the side door at the side of the stage.
    I had stopped moving toward the stage, when I saw his reaction to her. It confused me, a strange mixture of lights agitated his auric field. It was an indication that he was fighting a variety of emotions and impulses.
    I heard a loud noise toward the back of the room. I didn’t look back. Probably chairs falling over, I thought, I wasn’t about to be distracted, and moved forward. Years of experience, had enabled me to keep calm under a variety of challenging circumstances, and that was my saving grace. Instinctively I crouched, just as something flew fast over my head and crashed into the chairs beyond.

  • Wit Wrestling Wonders

    Divine dependability is essential.
    Reliable rationalism is reasonable.
    Robin rode relentlessly with the restless rodeo on the road to Reno with rhinestones rinsed by Ruth while rythyming riddles recited by Rick the runner.
    Somewhere there is a land where living is a paradisical parade of possibilities
    In the bottom of every lonely life exists a dormant fountain of enthusiasm waiting to burst forth and transform the known world.
    We and everyone in it are intrigued by fresh forests of fine figuring through the confusing philosophies of philistine philodendron planters.
    We are of a mind to ministrate with trackless determination in balloons floating above the crowds and casting cautionary glints of gladness to the wind.
    What will we do in our spindly programmed parade of practicality.
    Where do you see the answers to my riddles of wonder?
    Where do you go with the questions that came after the answers?
    Who watches while waiters whirl west with wise words wrestled from whistlers walking wretchedly into the worst watch shop in Wichita?

  • Changing me game!

    What can I think now that will allow me to change my life for the better?
    How can I become the architect for change in my life?
    How can I become the driving force in my life?
    How can I do what I have never done before?
    How can I think the thoughts that never in my brain have rung before?
    How can I become impetus for positive, progressive, intelligent, and spiritual change in the world now?
    How can I become that essential inspiration for good in the world today?

  • Mind the Mirth

    I mowed the meadows of cosmological beginnings, and smelled the fresh grass of greatness.
    The radical rotunda of difficulties spun its little head of illusive happiness and scattered the glass of giddiness to giggly guys in funny tights.
    The terrible swift chord of caution was shouting with strong jolts of panic alarmed at the state of deceiving stares.
    When will the rolling reams of riotous laughter inundate the dusty haunts of despondency and rekindle the flames of hope and happiness that lift us from the depths of despair to the heights of joy?
    When will we know where and why the inner fires are glowing red with resonating rhythms and rivulets of melodic insight?
    Where do we find the roads to the real life rhymes of the Thames?
    Where are the wisdom wells in which we can dip our destinies to rinse them of selfish grime?
    Place your questions in the magic bole of bliss and the mystic mind will manifest the multitudinous mists of mesmerizing and mysterious mirth.

  • Sentenced to Sentences

    Could I write a sentence that would keep me writing?
    Keep me writing what?
    Keep me writing sentences, one after the other, until I fell asleep, or until I ran out of sentences. Cause that’s what writing is all about, isn’t it? Writing sentences, or verse if one is a poet.
    But I don’t think I have the poetic gene to proclaim myself a poet, because it doesn’t come naturally to me to rhyme. And yet I know poems don’t have to rhyme, but they do need some thing else, if they don’t rhyme. They have to have a certain rhythm that will provide structure, and a beat to read them aloud by. Am I right, am I wrong?
    You can say what you will, there’s no one here to question you, or tell you that you are wrong.
    The world won’t care whether you know what you are talking about, but the world will care whether or not you can make a good sentence. And what constitutes a good sentence? Good question, depends on your intention in writing the sentence,
    Do you want to engage, frighten, intrigue, terrify, edify, elucidate, or demonstrate a wonderful talent for expressing concepts, ideas, or invoke a specific emotional response?
    But yet we have decided that the secret to perpetual, persistent, relentless, or insistent writing is to stick to the practice of writing one sentence after the other, perhaps the sentences’ intention will develop of it’s volition.

  • Journaling Benefits

    (This is a great lineup of the very crucial benefits derived from regular journaling. I’ve only listed the highlights, you can go to the website to get the full details.)

    10 Surprising Benefits You’ll Get From Keeping a Journal-Thai Nguyen

    1. Stretching Your IQ
    2. Evoking Mindfulness
    3. Achieving Goals
    4. Emotional Intelligence
    5. Boosting Memory and Comprehension
    6. Strengthen Your Self-Discipline
    7. Improve Communication Skills
    8. Healing
    9. Spark Your Creativity
    10. Self-Confidence


    http://www.huffingtonpost.com/thai-nguyen/benefits-of-journaling-_b_6648884.html

  • Reality check

    Does your behavior and speech reflect the your greatest ideals?
    Are you making enough of an effort to make those ideals a part of your daily life?

  • Today’s Questions & Sane Mandate

    How we can address the past in the present?
    How can our present thoughts, and aspirations improve conditions that we set up in the past?
    Is there any truth that we should espouse that will bring us peace of mind?
    Is there any idea that we want to embrace that will bring us the happiness we seek?
    Do we want to live in harmony with nature and the universe or is it just enough that we have the car, house, spouse, job and life that was supposed to make us happy?
    Where is the line drawn that says we have had enough of a sham life, enough of a sham existence, and a sham prosperity dream?
    Let’s be at peace with the possibilities and open to the potentialities.