Dusk and Dawn

Heart's Bleeding Tour

When I'm driving at dusk, or dawn, I often smile at the contrasting orange sky background with the silhouette of the mountains and trees. The crisp evening air chills my bones through the open window. Even the green and red flashing lights of the commercial plane on its descent trajectory illuminate the awe of existence. 

I smile to myself as I often do on my solo late night and early morning drives through these light transitions.

A lot has been happening the last days, weeks, months, years. This moment was no exception.

It always is,

the future is always coming,

the past always receding.

away we go onto the next

there is a tradeoff for increasingly higher layers of consciousness, examination of the past and future rob the present. Those temporal forces pleasantly shattered by this moment of visual contrast. My mind seeks the future without present focus, and I appreciate that the light can ground me.

The sky serving as a visual reminder of our ever-present transition between physical spaces and temporal spaces unfolding our internal kaleidoscope, revealing layers of thoughts, emotions, and memories shifting and transforming within us some moments more conscious than others.

The older I get the faster time seems to speed up. Perhaps it's because of the sudden change in routine, the constant stream of responsibilities, or simply the accumulation of experiences blending together, each year seeming shorter than the last.

I enjoy these traveling thoughts, they are a delicacy of electrochemical cosmic cartoonage—vivid, interconnected experience and conscious smirk phasing through me.

the phrase "Everything is a Phase" echoes through my mind

that was the best advice I ever got from the nurse who was looking after my wife just after our daughter was born. The most substantiate transformation I've ever experienced.

Now rolling through these most exhilarating roads a roller-coaster ride taken on purpose. Those hidden levers of consciousness, their actions firm and ever-present, waving the weighty waters of present future experience.

Yet again my life changing forever, stacking up the seconds, hours, days, and weeks that ride by. Made visual by the sunset.

The awe drifts into a pattern well known, the desire to find the present, then the engineering to elucidate this through a form for myself and then for someone else.

For whom though? Who would or could feel as I do in those moments and who would if they could? Why am I compelled to share this experience? Should it be shared?

So far, I have never attempted to share its story or essence.

Our tracks of potential are multiplicative, blessings and responsibilities come together in proportion. I slept and dreamt that life was joy, I awoke and discovered life was duty, I acted and beheld, duty was joy.

I couldn't tell you directly or you'd never know, that it was always a trail in snow. The flakes of time covering the know. Only a steady caravan can follow in your footsteps, if you fall too far behind you'll have to break in your own.

This is always where I reflect and find it isn't speed but purpose that makes it all worthwhile.

Back again,

is there a point?

the point is to be now and see

I find I keep writing anyways

Now we're too far out and there isn't much to see

there's much that could be a disaster

Come back again when it never ends

.