Jack Raymond

SSOPINM- Jack Raymond

Jack Raymond sat on the bench just as he did every morning, arms sprawled wide against the back, steaming styrofoam cup of black coffee beside him. Though the seat was wide enough for three or four people it looked full with leaning Jack and his cup of coffee.

We are all, ultimately, creatures of habit, who have our little routines and tendencies. Jack’s was to sit peacefully on this bench, by this lake, taking it all in. And mine was to watch him, without question, and slip back inside our RV to make pancakes, without question.

But in all these mornings of pancake flipping and coffee sipping there was a series of questions that would often come forward. They spiraled very quickly though, so I often avoided them. Besides, it felt wrong to ask anything of Jack. He had saved me from an anchored trailer and offered me this one. At the time, I was so trapped I couldn’t refuse his offer. But, at 15 years my senior, he knew what he wanted in life. And I was still wondering why he wanted this.

To live in a home with wheels only to park it in one spot for the past 5 years. He had chosen the tiniest, buggiest park known in Illinois, where I had always assumed the Rockies or western canyons would call him out someday. Even when I’d get brave enough to ask him he’d reply, “Whatsa matter with you? This is paradise!”.

And this morning, sunrising, pancakes forming and Jack sitting, I realized where my spiraling questions were leading. To some inevitable truth, found not in the boundless west, but right here in the bright muggy green of Central Illinois.

“Why do we do the same thing everyday? Why do park here and never once move? Why do we own a car if our home has wheels? Why did you say yes to Jack? Why didn’t you wait a bit and make him win you over? Would he do it- stick around to charm you? Or was it just ‘cause he had wheels that could leave? And you didn’t wanna miss out on him leabing without you? Why don’t you love him then? He’s a peaceful man till he yells, and he only yells when you questions him… Why do you always hafta open your mouth and ask him? What’s that smell? Why are you just letting the pancake burn?!”

My mind quieted down as I reached under the stove for the bag I had packed last year. My heart jumped out of my chest as I grabbed the car keys. Jack didn’t turn around till he heard the car start; a face of angry disbelief is all I caught in the rearview mirror. If smoke from a burning pancake hadn’t been pouring out the window he’d probably have ran after the car, but I used those wheels and kicked up gravel well past the “SLOW- CAMPGROUND SPEED LIMIT 10MPH”. No questions in my thoughts could convince me to turn around.

“Why leave? Why not just let him be happy? How far will you get without a license? Where are you going?

But Jack had found his paradise, and I had to find mine.  

Short Stories Series

Here again a series is introduced! This series of “Short Stories of People I’ve Never Met” will eventually be released into the published world, with additional chapters and characters. In the meantime, enjoy this “trailer” as if it were, of the people I’ve never met, but who reside in my imagination.

“Short Stories of People I’ve Never Met” is the passion of writing mixed with the practice of a novice author’s voice. The characters and ideas have such a brief life span one cannot help but chew off the heroes lives little by little, savoring the triumphs and swallowing trials. But both the highs and lows of life are present and sympathetically arranged. Written with a hopeful storytellers perspective “Short Stories…” is the inspired outcome of reading Flannery O’Connor, Edgar Allen Poe and a sprinkling of old hymns and verses.

Light From Light

The shining of yellow on the edges of the leaves,

A stained glass window in a temple of trees,

A playful push of October’s breeze,

In moments like these

My very bones believe.

 

Believe in one Father Almighty,

Maker of woods and shadows who breath,

Of all things visible and dreamy,

Of one Lord, My Jesus Christ,

Who with love, created this moment for me.

 

In humble honesty,

Again my feet crunched the leaves

And my eye wandered from the golden canopy

Without another prayer of tranquility,

I left a doorless church behind me.

 

But

 

I think I may now understand,

what is truly meant when

We faithfully utter words such as

“Light from Light”.

Amen.

 

“… God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God…..”

–Nicene Creed

SayLore Sees

If you’ve ever wondered about the lack of pictures on this blog it is not because I have anything against them. Contrarily  I am a painter, an artist, and live in spaces with constant visual stimulation. My eyes devour the world around them, after all, I am obsessed with beauty.

I leave pictures at the gateway of my poems because I want the challenge of creating a mental image out of words. When I describe a breeze, or a cherry tree, or a dream, or a friend I would hate to have any reader be distracted by a picture. An image can devalue the simplicity of black letters against white pages.

But as I have disclaimed, I love photos and pictures, and would loathe to have anyone think otherwise. So, I extend an invitation, should your eye be needy as your ear, to follow my personal Instagram, and see the world as I do.

I can be found as “sayloresees” and I would be honored to inspire all others who are beauty inclined or wish to be.

#saylore #sayloresees #thealivenessoflife #inkythoughts

(More on Inky Thoughts coming!)

Fourteen, UnEdited

Again, I sit, UnEdited and twitching slightly at the thought of it. I mean, how presumptuous is it to think something I want to say is really worth saying…. Saying in an out-loud online kind of way? I can’t help it though; somewhere along my happy thoughts, and stressful ideas, and plans succeeding and plans failing, there was this pot on the back burner called “self-discovery”. And sometimes, when it wasn’t quite so forgotten I could watch it bubble over, frothy sage advice spilling around the edges of once-known boundaries.

14 was a particularly happy year in my younger memory. I’m not exactly sure why, but the notion of being both 14 and awesome has been as unwavering as the laws of physics. So yes, perhaps presumptuously, I share this Birthday Letter:  

***

Dear Sister, Baby sister, turning 14 this month. Advice is a cheap gift, I realize, but I really wanted you to go into being 14 equipped to continue becoming the greatest you possible. So here are some things I wish I had realized at 14. (And don’t worry, I got you a real present as well.)

 

1. Awesome is just a side effect of being unique.

And not just “unique” as in we’re-all-such-special-humans-so-be-yourself-blah-blah-blaaaa; unique as in there-will-always-be-special-things-about-you. Find those awesome special things and enjoy how God has woven them into your life.

 

2. You will only be 14 for one year.

Likewise, you will only be 15 once, 16 for 365 days, 17 for 12 months, 18 for only 52 weeks, etc. Even though the next exciting thing seems just a year ahead or so try to enjoy the time between. Young adulthood is chalk-full of transitions, so accept the resting periods.

 

3. But if there’s something you don’t like- change it.

Bad habit? Change that. Oily hair? Change your hair care. Don’t like your new gym shoes? Exchange them. Tired in the morning? Change your bedtime or morning routine. Maybe theres something as simple as flossing your teeth that would end up making a world of change to you. A world of difference can often be accomplished with the simplest shift in mindset. Maybe just in realizing you can change the things you don’t love. So that every area of your life comes under the scrutiny of your stable enjoyment.

 

4. It’s bad to be lazy, but it’s good to rest.

Relaxation is not to be underestimated. I’m still learning this! It can help ease the stress on intense growing and learning years incredibly… so it’s worth learning how to do it as young as possible. Feeling the desire to nap is normal, and letting yourself simply sit and read, or play solitaire, or paint or bead or (gasp!) do nothing, is a skill many American’s lack. Embrace the lifestyle of siesta, where taking time to relax and refresh oneself is healthy and lovely.

 

5. There’s more to life than boys and there’s more to boys than boys.

I’m not saying you can’t have a crush, but looking back I wasted disgusting amounts of thought, energy and time thinking about crushes and wondering if they were thinking about me. (For the record, they probably weren’t.) But besides the embarrassing number of hours devoted to boy-talk is the humbling realization that didn’t hit me till much later: Boys aren’t just boys. I mean they are boys, don’t misunderstand me, but they’re also people. Individuals with ideas, hopes, dreams and souls. They are full of sad memories, happy memories, silly memories and memorable adventures. There is a depth inside each boy’s heart and mind, often untouchable and even unnoticeable to the big-boy world around them. But it’s there nonetheless. Respect that.

 

6. The above statement can be substituted, “boys” for “celebrities”.

Making actors and other idols objects is a culturally accepted trend. Don’t follow that trend. You are a million things beyond your physical appearance and capabilities; so are they. Again, respect that.

 

7. Only push yourself as far as grace.

It’s wonderful to push yourself! To expect great things from yourself. What is not great is to push yourself until you’re just frustrated with yourself. Maybe even to the place where you hate yourself. Please do set standards for yourself (see #3), do seek out your motivation, but do not forget grace. Grace is the best part of your story.

 

8. Feel Beautiful.

Realize you are a work of art, by a Flawless Artist. God doesn’t make mistakes. As Perfect Creator He created your glorious physical body. Viewing your soul’s temporary palace as the most personalized gift you could ever receive helps it’s changes become a thing to party about, instead of stress over. Celebrate God’s artistry and beauty- feel beautiful.

***

UnEdited

I desperately wanted to write today. I mean, I write everyday, but then I edit, and add and subtract words and phrases, and re-arrange thoughts and verses, until I achieve a satisfying equation of expression.

When starting this blog as a self-motivator to take what I write with the utmost professional and serious manner, I determined to never sit down and spew one of those “this-is-on-my-mind-and-feelings-also-a-recipe” posts. I don’t desire that sort of a blog. There is a place for those, Pinterest mostly, but not in my life. Not in my writing.

This introduction is a sort of lengthy excuse, because this post is not considered for days and hours in advance, patiently waiting in a draft folder as other posts are. This is the naked heart of a tired mind, typing where I usually do. This is a thought, a tangle of them truly, unedited.

“I have been questioning the universe- what can you do for me?

I’ve been staring at the planets and walking in the sea,

What will you provide for me?

I have been laughing at the sunrise- when will you wake me?

I have been choosing myself, over you, over anybody, I.

I’ve been mistaking bitterness for self-confidence,

I’ve been confusing stubbornness for strength

and anxiety for energy.

I’ve been trading wealth for prosperity

and contentment for money.

I’ve been scared of giving, now that I’ve learned to take.

I have been taking the days- what will you give me?

I’ve been rolling with the waves,

they cannot yet pull me…

Until today.

Under I went as I watched Heavens gates, open and close shut

leaving me and taking…

taking

others away.

I haven’t been taking. I’ve been selfishly trying

but failing outright.

I have been greedy, but not taking lives in the night!

Out bobs my head, and the salty taste runs over thoughts.

Depths of the world, what may I give you?

Sun burning upon my dried heart- what have I to offer?

Author and giver…

and taker

of life- what donation could I supply?

I have nothing  but my messed up mind

and needy words…

I’ve been questioning the earth- may I try better next time?”

 

 

 

 

 

Across the Lines

Across the lines

blended and blurred,

I believe in rules

but not always rulers…