It was a dark, cold, and rainy Winters morning when I found myself suddenly wanting a little bite to eat. The streets were unlit, damp, and wet. The stores, shops, and cafés all closed. Nay donut or coffee mug in sight. Sunrise was not for several more hours. I worried about not; why should I. I could sense the presence of smaller creatures stalking in the shadows hiding from whatever might eat them. So then I say to be is what eats them. With a wiggle and a slight twist, I am now their worst fear, desiring to eat them. Excuse me as I pause in this dark alley. I must change my presentation to you. I do know you need to see me like you want me to be seen. Well, satisfied and nourished, another twist and wiggle. None the wiser, back to my exploration of this sleeping town. Sweet dreams, and never mind me, I am attentive to normal’s obtuse pareidolia.
They Talk to Me
San Francisco GOlden Gate Bridge December 2022
Read MoreLook at the world as if you were the Sun!
I stopped by the Sun’s house early for coffee. No Secret I like to be with the Sun when she rises. We sat on her porch, chatted, sipped, and laughed while throwing light rays onto the planets.
I know, often, a sunrise includes looking at the Sun; however, one can enjoy a morning looking with the Sun.
Interestingly, I entered the forest almost two hours before sunrise. I was wearing a small headlamp and hiking along the usual trails. I came upon a man at the intersection of my path and another. We were headed in the same direction. I turned off my lamp, and we walked and talked. He was heading to his hunting stand while I was heading to the higher elevations. He was carrying a gun, and I had a camera. After about 20 minutes of pleasant conversation, he had reached the path to his deer stand, and we parted ways.
My Tree-cher
I learned from the tree to lean into the light. I learned from the tree to take advantage of the night. I learned from the tree to slow down in the cold. I learned from the tree to sprout limbs and be bold. I learned from the tree to grip with my toes. I learned from the tree there is a time to let go ~jennwren
Forward with Passion and Power
The snail whispered to me, "move forward with passion and purpose."
...then I was distracted by a tap on the shoulder.
Jenn: Hello, Change; what brings you my way?
Change: Another chance to re-live the good times, my old friend.
Jenn: You are too much; why don't you get on with it and marry me?
Change: You know I cannot do that; I belong to everybody. But you are my favorite, which is why I often visit you.
Jenn: Blushing...
The year has drifted, and changes enter our days once again. Steady and carefree times bare the warning label; comfort and complacency can be hazardous to life. The energy of change compares to the power of glacier ice moving and planets rotating; it's mighty and coming. Being familiar with change, I have experience handling change at some scale, more prominent than some but not as significant as others. Although much protects me, the most effective protection for the future depends on personal handling of the change. Be assured that the change handled well provides a first-class ticket to a better place for tomorrow.
The snail's focus remains on the here and now. The grip and dinner are the most important at the moment. What happens in the future stays out of the equation of this precarious situation. The snail inspires me in how well it is handling this moment.
Change opens opportunities for new. As change approaches, take some time to reconnect with those old faithful friends. Some drift away, but they are never far; reach out. Look at the old and examine the internal motivations of habits and hobbies; have they dampened or require more energy and dedication than you can give? Embracing change demands simple and pragmatic approaches—no need to take unnecessary risks. Seek help and guidance from respected sources. As you soar through transition, know that you will be a mentor or guide for others, so don't blow it.
Change offers a time to embrace creativity and warmth that radiates like thermal drafts from the earth to lift our outstretched wings. Glide freely and high to the destination of abundance and success. Make peace with the changes that must take place for life to move forward positively. Sacrifice what holds you back. Move forward with passion and purpose. See you tomorrow, my snail friends. Love
Words worth preserving
A barn side in Brühlgraben, Tiefenbach, Germany.
Read MoreCome in my world and play with me!
How is it that my creative thoughts are so connected to my alone time?
Alone, I am never alone. My mind becomes a team on a field of daydreams. My mind morphs into a team of minds. Each mind is a player on a field. The minds begin tossing words like a team of baseball players warming up on the field before the big game. Whiff, swop, Whiff, swop, Whiff, swop, back and forth, the ideas get tossed between all the players in my head. With each toss, my insights grow clear, and my ideas expand and loosen. Soon the thoughts grow with increased velocity and power. The passing thoughts become blurs and make a different sound, Whiff, thump, Whiff, thump, Whiff, thump. Each thump is a sting in the idea pocket of my mind. The sting feels good, and the heat from the friction becomes a word generator pitching out spitballs, curves, sliders, and knuckles at a million joules per second [Yes, that is the measure of energy, and it has a name, I will let you tell me. Okay, that idea came out of left field]. I can only be away from my inner thought team for so long before I get a weird itch to play games or simply catch. I have to take my team into a solitary place where they can play, toss words, and practice their skills. On occasion, I do find another team to play a scrimmage or real game of creation. I have a few teams in this league, and I love it when we get our teams together and create. Come in my world and play with me!
Old Stump
Sun and Rain, how it grows
Seasons come and go
Shelter the animals below
Time past indeed
and one becomes the fruit
that feeds the living who keep
Sun and rain in their soul
until the veil thins again
and its time to let go
and become life again
Come in my world and play with me!
How is it that my creative thoughts are so connected to my alone time?
Alone, I am never alone. My mind becomes a team on a field of daydreams. My mind morphs into a team of minds. Each mind is a player on a field. The minds begin tossing words like a team of baseball players warming up on the field before the big game. Whiff, swop, Whiff, swop, Whiff, swop, back and forth, the ideas get tossed between all the players in my head. With each toss, my insights grow clear, and my ideas expand and loosen. Soon the thoughts grow with increased velocity and power. The passing thoughts become blurs and make a different sound, Whiff, thump, Whiff, thump, Whiff, thump. Each thump is a sting in the idea pocket of my mind. The sting feels good, and the heat from the friction becomes a word generator pitching out spitballs, curves, sliders, and knuckles at a million joules per second [Yes, that is the measure of energy, and it has a name, I will let you tell me. Okay, that idea came out of left field]. I can only be away from my inner thought team for so long before I get a weird itch to play games or simply catch. I have to take my team into a solitary place where they can play, toss words, and practice their skills. On occasion, I do find another team to play a scrimmage or real game of creation. I have a few teams in this league, and I love it when we get our teams together and create. Come in my world and play with me!
Morning, January 1st any yea
Early on Jan 1st, the streets rest empty, sleeping off everything and anything they experienced over the year. Carefully I step in silence, leaving the stones and structures to slumber softly under a cuddly blanket of fog. With the world below all cuddled in, I took to the hills to see the new day shine on the earth from outer space. My favorite star rises to greet me, and a murder of crows. We perched, creating a mixture of caws, hoarse grating coos, rattles, and clicks. The randomness of the sounds did manage to find themselves arranged into a song quality of the best symphony. High on our perch, we enjoyed the sun for a couple of hours. Finally, the church bells tolled. A clear sign the village awoke to begin their next year. We all knew it was time to say goodbye until next year when we can again be the only living things stirring, if only for a short moment.
Giving Thanks
The week of giving thanks is upon us. I like to think about what I am thankful for before Thursday. Unlike those times, many of us have stood in a long service line and waited until it's our turn to decide what we will order. (We
Thank you for encouraging our children and friends to be themselves as a secret to happiness and success. Thank you for supporting individuals to look inside and try to bring out their best and authentic selves.
Thank you for accepting all the range of differences such as body types, facial features, hair, color, gender, belief system, language, for mentioning a few.
Thank you for defending our right to express ourselves naturally. No matter where I walk, we can do so safely, and we will meet you and not a mask. [PS, I love you! no mask needed]
I am super thankful that on Nov 20th, we, the people, recognized that this year 46 Americans were mandated by other Americans non-judiciary violent deaths because they were different.
I am thankful that the theme is to protect individual rights in pursuing happiness to the end. I am grateful and celebrate those supporting and defending those souls who require a little more courage to walk out their front door authentic to themselves first and foremost.
Thank you
Writing of choice this week:
Litany Of Ordinary Violences
By Torrin A. Greathouse
Kiss Thief
lurking about in a forest of passionate hearts of beauty
prowls a kiss thieve’in panther
a sly cat, dark as night with a streak
this kitty catches its prey, unaware
in the light of day
in the dark of night
void of sound
absent a shadow
it lurks in close and easy
you feel the pounce only after your kiss is gone
left dazed by the supple snap
disorientated for weeks, maybe life
longing strangely for another bite
by the kiss thieve’in panther
who prowls on passion day and night
do not fear
stay passionate and beautiful
you just might
attract that once in a while stolen kiss
from the precious kitty
~jennwren
You can only keep one memory
You can only keep one memory from your entire life. What will it be?
How much time do I have to choose? 10 minutes!, Really? Well, it won't be of this moment, forced to pick one and only one. One memory, I can only keep one. I better make it good. I struggle not to let panic consume me as I feel it lurching up from my stomach to my brain.
Jenn, stay in control. Find the memory. Many memories fill my mind's eyes. Wait, my mind has more than one eye? Focus. There must be one. Scan the memory reel, look for that one memory that I can keep. A memory filled with everyone I know. One memory of many moments. Why is it that when I try to recall those great memories, I cannot remember? I try to remember that time that made us all feel so great, happy, and loved. Does it escape me? This is no time to forget. I am not sure how much longer I have to pick this memory. I can feel myself scrambling as if I am late for work itself and I cannot find my car keys. Stop thinking about work.
Oaky, the one memory has to be here somewhere. It has to be here, you know, remember that time…..arrrgh!…How about that time when…no….hey I loved those days you….no….okay think…you get one memory, what is it you can remember that will be of value to a single memory for the rest of my life? I cannot find a single moment that contains everyone I love. I cannot possibly keep a single memory that won't exclude anyone in my life.
Okay, deep breath, this helps. I can forget everything that has been captured in photos, journals, and events that others remember. Let technology and others be my memory. So this narrows the choice. Good, I am getting somewhere. Keep thinking… Indeed, I look forward to forgetting a few memories., time, time… you are running out of time, focus. Focus... feel...think...ah-ha…I got it. I will keep my memory of being happy with who I am. I will remember being myself, loving who I am. Indeed, that is a worthy memory to keep in a single memory life. Indeed, suppose I can remember the joy and giddiness I felt being me. In that case, I can easily be with you, even if I only have one memory.
My surface is well waxed.
I do not worry too much about straying. I do stick to the waterfalls I am accustomed to. My surface is well waxed and quickly sheds even the heaviest adorning downpours. Like any storm, I can see the shower of desire and lust pouring from the cumulonimbus cloud of love at first sight. The drops and often showers of courtship bead off my façade. Safe behind my walls, I can hide from love at first sight.
I watched you fall in love with me, then watched you fall out of love. I held out until you gave up. My first impression, my first sighting, is not someone to fall in love with. However, your best bet is to fall in love with my second impression found deeper inside without a map to follow.
If you love me, you love me, say so; if you love me at first sight, wait for it. If you love me at second sight, say so.
I am scared to talk about love. You, too, should fear talking to me about love. I do not want a love that does not meet me where I am. I love to meet you where you are, but I do not wish to park where we are. To ease my fear means taking on a woman who has the self-centered and selfish pursuit of her grandiose dreams. Maybe you should just go climb Mount Everest, you will have guides, sherpas and a better chance of survival.
Happy to Cast my Shadow
I woke up this morning particularly early. Many thoughts were going through my head. A natural reflection after pondering the news you learned the evening before about someone passing before their time. Rising from my bed, I circled through the dimly lit rooms of the house. A ritual performed to wake up my mind and body. The night light catches my motion, happy to cast my long-form as a shadow on the wall, a sight I secretly enjoy. The open terrace door let in a cool draft from the waning moon. Reaching into a basket, I grabbed some clothes for warmth. Pulling on a sweater last, I realized it was left unwashed from a midnight Paris. Her perfumes added to the mental portrait of a beautiful memory.
Personal Stories are like a Superpower
Owning personal stories thrust upon us comes with great responsibility. Very much like having a superpower. When blessed with both a great story and a cool superpower, the burden of telling the story is to give hope to others coming up the gauntlet behind, while doing no harm to the innocent on the sidelines. I cannot offer the villain the same promise, as I am not the keeper of wicked nefars unwitting or otherwise. Careful telling the story. An unwieldy story holds secrets about the characters within.
My Mind Jumped
My mind jumped to assumptions from the sudden news. I perhaps unjustly arrived at my conclusions. Maybe I am justified. Where am I? We have shared many personal feelings and experiences. Why am I learning from a text message that you have fallen in love and proposed marriage?
Of course, I wanted to say congratulations, but my words became lost. I stumbled for days trying to recall if you had shared your new love in previous conversations. I can be terrible at remembering things sometimes. I thought maybe it happened so fast, like love at first sight. You had no chance to say, “hey, I got some good news, I met someone, and I hope it works out for me”.
You owe me nothing in this world, but if you are interested in why I feel nervous about calling, texting, or planning an adventure, it's because of how I learned about her. Before I received the photos of you proposing, our conversations were about planning adventures and an experience. I guess I need help understanding why you did not tell me earlier from a friendship perspective. Assumptions flew into my head, bad on me, but I could not help it. Am I not really a friend? Do you fear her reaction to our relationship, or are you worried about my response to her?
I am suddenly confused, pondering how I am supposed to communicate. When in doubt, I just move on with my one life. The best thing for me is to ask you directly rather than assume your feelings or thoughts. But I am afraid to call. I love so many things about you, your sense of adventure, athleticism, healthy living, willingness to try, and positive attitude. I treasure my few friends that meet me on my level. I tremble at the thought of losing you.
~jenn wren
