Songbirds

Lately…I’ve been talking about inspiration…sometimes searching for inspiration…and becoming surprised when I allow myself to become indulging.

It has been long and bitter; my arguments with inspiration. I went full tilt for nearly fifteen years pouring over the philosophy I was attempting to put together.

And then all of a sudden I slammed on the breaks. Circumstances in my life polarized my instincts. I wanted it to be that way. I wanted nothing to do with it. I defected… as I was noted for saying at that time.

It was piercing… when the hammer fell.

I’ve enjoyed the sabbatical. I’ve still had to fight several battles but I think that what I have accomplished is more than I ever did previously. I have something more for myself then when I first started.

I’m speaking in generalities… but what is important is that I have never completely allowed myself to stop. I’ve been working on a collection of poetry for a few years now…I hope to finish it sooner rather than later.

I’ve picked up politics as a philosophy over the years because it is a common language that one way or another, most people can speak. Even the vendors in Mexico will tell you ‘no hurry, the oppressors are up ahead’.

I have written about God, existentialism, communitarianism… and learning what is most important about our selves, what we have discussed with ourselves when we close our eyes to sleep.

But what am I to write about now? What are the next chapters to be? What will I see when I look out of Dostoevsky’s window? More importantly what do I want to see?

I’ve quit smoking, quit drinking to excess and most of my mixed up ways have migrated to a more conservative, domesticated measure.

I expect to outlive my adversaries… I’ve looked into the old lady’s eye.

In the midst of all of this I have found my many fallacies to not be as romantic as I once thought them to be. I have even at times traded in my ‘without self image’ routine to that of the town crier.

I’ve run across an old song recently… old songs are the apex for me… old songs you say… old songs as in the reference of what they once meant and can mean today. Actually I have run across several old songs. Songs that I ignored, some I simply over looked and some I used for poor measure.

Songs more than ever… walk up silently… slay me and move on. Song more than ever take me back to my idealistic youth. To sitting at the bayou late at night in my solitude wondering how it all might ever change and if I was going to have the courage to make it happen.

I’ve rarely seen real courage performed in front of me in everyday life.

I’ve watched family trample family, friends lie to friends, and co-workers turn their back on the actions of spiteful co-workers. We have seen our own public’s shameful behavior over racism, terrorism and many other worlds of ethically challenging endeavors.

What I find telling…

When I pick up my pen to correct my grammar or ask if you will understand my iconoclasms… I will ask where are your songbirds? Where is all of our inspiration? Where is all of our courage? Why do we wait so long to stand up?

I’m going to promise to myself that I will maintain that intrinsic path and share it with the world.

Let me promise to myself that solitude is not the worst of all punishments but the instrument of the trade.

And that instead of ignoring the passion of my interests; I’m going to explore them more… and all those things I’m afraid of…I’m going to inch closer to attempting them or actually accomplishing them.

I have done penance for my youthful indiscretions and am going to allow myself some emancipation. …

Let’s start seeing about all that potential…and all that I saw in that old lady’s eye.