Tag: purpose

A Wandering Mind

· Leave a comment ·

I wonder sometimes where it is I might go,

if given the opportunity

the freedom to walk away from everything

mechanical in my mind.

You see,

there is a kind of volley of emotion

we live by,

we cannot forget or perhaps

we wish we might be the one,

whom always does

need a reminder,

a reminder to live our lives

in the present

without reflection,

no memory

that might bring us down,

for there is the rub,

that down-trodden personality

the one that seemingly

‘makes us stronger’

in the end when it is far too late.

Too late,

you might beg for an option,

and quite simply there is,

but until you decide,

had enough

that fantasy remains strong

as we age,

stronger forever,

an eternal duel with what works

and what unravels in time

for a crisis to engulf …

my state of mind.

© Thom Amundsen 9/2021

Sitting Around In Summertime

· Leave a comment ·

I was thinking about the other night

when the sun shined in my apartment,

slats creating patterns across the woodwork.

I thought I might rather watch them fade across the walls

then close the shudders when in the evening

I no longer wondered about the outside

only that happening in here tonight.

~

Seems there are changes ahead I can see

only recently have the words begun to make any sense

thinking about what might be out there

along with figuring out who I might be.

I see the warmer temperatures start to surround our days,

attractive in their symbolic nature of settling our soul

letting life fill our hearts as is love in her manner.

~

I know that you can see … everyone in their own lives

going about the business of being who we might be,

perhaps that we wanted all along and only later,

later in life when we had to know, then we began.

See it is that quiet fountain of life we seek

sometimes seeing it in the shadows

always nervous of being exposed in stark light of day.

~

I think I will try to take a walk today, maybe a bicycle ride,

perhaps just breathe a little differently than the other night.

© Thom Amundsen 5/2021

~

Walking Upon Time

· Leave a comment ·

A reflection spoke prophetic synapse unwind

while the world in mechanical fashion

carried on, carried on inside the mind

sweet redemption await for years of burden.

 

If we could match our inside with the now

would it be easier in a balance

could  heart remind background

our vision, sad eyes, might forever shine.

 

The institution of a societal trial expectation

would the human condition consider

within a framed reference a spiritual

Mecca will always await sendentary soul

 

Wake now to her wondrous a natural task

for all entitlement is a waste

rather a commitment to peace

inside the stranger element of response

 

Our lives, create reawakened possibilities

would that every symbiotic paths beyond

 

 

Are We All The Same

· Leave a comment ·

Do we feel pain

rather simple agony

stepping upon cracks

forgetting  what is civility.

 

Sitting in another quiet

century

last one

got away from me.

 

Wandering in my mind

his heart became

a wonder

just how far our lives –

 

Could we see

the light of day

when the birds own

the world with melody.

 

Might we all see the truth

in love

rather than the pain

in inherent  with difference?

 

Walk away from deceit,

rather knowing life is a feat.

 

Walking Outside

· Leave a comment ·

Pay attention to surroundings

the world in concrete dustings

we wear the right shoes

they’ll comfort the blues

make a long day seem rather

sweet in an odd sort of flavor

of calling the shots in a mid-day

conference where decides the way.

 

Welcome the summer air fresh

from last night’s rain, a thresh

makes her presence known at dawn

well listen wondering where on the lawn

will she find her dewy worm,

will we watch a bit of nature squirm.

watch the sunlight begin another hour

when while history occurs in our tower.

 

If in just a quiet moment this anxiety

we seem to hide to suggest our sanity

would step away for only a partial

afternoon, we could relax against a wall

rest assured our lives are all the same

it just seems more apparent we play the game.

Watch the sunrise one more time with me

for the wandering mind cannot deny the

 

simple beauty in the elegance of our way

this human condition, defines forever our day.

Recalling Purpose

· Leave a comment ·

edge

Took a walk in the wilderness,

a forest to disappear in,

looked about me at all the pine,

the desert soil allows

eyes to drift as far as the edge

a world beyond me I’m told to

 

forget.

 

I’m here to be a sightseer,

to breathe in the mountain

air that raises my spirits

beyond the normalcy

far enough away

to help me perhaps

 

forget.

 

Tomorrow I will look upon

a landscape that stretches

the eye to forever,

a spiritual energy

so beyond personal recall,

meant to help us all

 

forget.

 

When soon our lives return

the better option

might be to find something

new. A purpose suggests

our lives have meaning,

we have a world we easily

 

forget.

 

Glance at the morning sky, the mellow

sound of birds in rainfall, we can never

 

forget.

Wondering Why We Do

· Leave a comment ·

I fight this battle,

you see,

it is a visual reality

the need for me

to recognize

my own vulnerability

is ok, it’s alright, it is part of the

game

we all play,

we wake to a different horizon

every morning,

we sleep to a different melody

at night,

or perhaps during the day,

wherever it is we decide

we might wish to land

and resurface again,

when everyone we see

decides upon the rules of

the game.

When A Friend’s Pain Defines Personal Purpose

· Leave a comment ·

I have a fairly good life. I am gainfully employed, live in a seemingly free country, with all the benefits of free speech and liberty. I have a family, we are all healthy. Our lives are determined by our actions. Given all of that reward I sometimes question my purpose, and I begin to doubt my ability, and I frame a rather skeptical outlook on my future. I’ll then beat myself up and struggle with the reality of my fortune. However, it is when I hear of the pain of someone in my life, close or connected that I really begin to recognize the gifts I have received. It is then I feel guilty for not appreciating what I have to live for.

That self-serving attitude causes a depression that can more often than not, be debilitating. I used to believe my depression was situational – created by short term events. I have now as I finish the 5th decade of my life realized my depression is clinical. I add fuel to it by recognizing an addictive personality – so many factors of my life have been defined by addiction. I feel fortunate to have responded to recovery in the manner I have. As a friend often says, life is good.

All that said, I believe life doesn’t really happen until you experience someone else’s pain. How many funerals have we walked away from where a person took their own life, and everyone is left with questions. It happens frequently and we are always sad, and for the moment, we do catalogue our own possibilities, and we do recognize how lucky our lives can be. But then reality sets in and life becomes again burdensome, and for me specifically I begin to question purpose.

Recently I was told of a friend’s battle with Stage 4 Pancreatic Cancer. This friend is someone I knew in a previous time, and our lives have gone many directions in the last ten years. However, the impact of this news has literally shut me down and made me reflect again on what is my purpose. She is a beautiful person with beautiful children, and I can guarantee she did not choose this path in her final days. She’s younger than me, and today I am faced with the reality of finding perspective.

I spent this last weekend in my hometown, and I watched a music festival that was a lot of fun. My wife and I enjoyed the blues, and I spent rare time with my extended family. Whenever I return to my hometown, I am flooded with childhood memories, couple that with time with my family and it can be precarious. We came home refreshed and in good spirits and the foreboding feeling I receive when returning to my world seemed to creep up slowly. I again began to experience my depression, and the choices I make in my life become centered, and I began to wonder about purpose.

It was then I received an email about my friend. She was diagnosed recently and her condition is untreatable. Here is the quandary. Where I spend the night questioning my purpose and allowing my depression to win, suddenly I hear of this person who has everything in the world to live for and she knows it will be taken away. She doesn’t want that, not now, not in the prime of her life. I thought about her pain all night, and I realized that any time I feel sorry for myself I need to think of my friend and recognize I have chances that other people do not.

People are given windows into the lives of others for a reason. In this case, my friend’s pain is unfortunately my saving grace. I am not debilitated, I am not suffering a terminal illness, I am not losing my mind. God help me that those factors always evade me. Instead I will take her challenge as an inspiration that in her toughness might I show some strength in recognizing I do have a purpose in this life. I do need to move forward if not just for her, for my own well being.

Let’s pray we all might continue to find our purpose and strength to exemplify the life our friends and family might not have the luxury to fully experience.

Lest We Forget, Again

· Leave a comment ·

cards_warisnothealthy_detail

For we do that,

oh so often, we do

decide upon a beautiful sunset,

perhaps the rising moon,

a sweet snowfall,

even the rain of a heated summer day,

lets our mind return to the numbing

nature of a human condition

built upon,

the product of denial.

 

But we cannot,

simply look alive people,

please don’t shut your eyes,

there’s a movement,

and this time,

it is your children,

let their voices be heard.

 

Imagine telling a child

you may not skip class to protest

the death of your peer

by senseless gunfire,

imagine telling your children,

I don’t love you enough

to give a crap

about your well being.

Imagine telling a child

when you leave

I’m not going to imagine

a terrible outcome.

 

If we demand our children

stick to the implementation

of a day of lessons

designed in minutia

and instead

forget the very reason,

we brought our child

into this world,

then we have suggested

the concept of love is a fallacy.

 

We are at war,

and the eyes of a child,

certainly contain the heroic passions

of our every tomorrow.

When Will It Happen

· 2 Comments ·

When will the day become the reason,

when lives we seem to wonder a loud

become just a natural breeze in the fall.

 

Because we honor tales people create

they seem so simply easy to relate,

and yet, we do every turn complicate.

 

A long time ago, a person listened,

then told the story again, while others

began to recognize some purpose.

 

How many reminders will it take

until acceptance might become

some certain negotiate.

 

Standing outside the same moment,

there will always be a recall,

some symbolic gesture before the fall.

 

While everyone around us debates

a timely reckoning to decide,

the active reality will remain.

 

A long time ago, a certain history

began a repetitive tale of balance.

In the morning stories will continue.