The old is coming to an end—
the ancient one gripping tight,
as if nothing else matters.

As the grip of the old tightens,
the new can sense the waning hour of its rustic power.
The old knows, as soon as it lets go,
it has to give its final blessing,
that bit we call farewell.

The splendid bull
is standing on the plateau,
faced towards the sun,
rising from horizon.

The first few rays spill into the ocean,
just before the sun is up, above the skyline.
That breathless moment,
when existence appears to be standing still…

The ancient and the new.
A mystery as old as time.
What have I to learn from all that is passing by?

Decay, death, birth, a new start.

I give my gratitude to all that is fading away,
burning out, passing on its final emanating surge of power,
just before it’s time to give it up.

It’s time to give it up!
Your time, your rule, your reign is over.

An ocean of valuable lessons,
overflowing generosity,
kindness and good deeds…
All of it going towards new, fresh seeds.
It’s time to let go, graciously.

Out of the old roots grow the new shoots.
Come spring, watch the glory unfold in its full swing.  

Roaring fireplace, several soft cushions,
the sound of crackling firewood,
a copper flask of water and myself,
gazing towards the blazing fire
as it eats the wood away,
sending vital heat my way.

Holding my favorite pen, I etch
the final few pages of my fifth notebook of this twilight year.

When the one starts starts,
I will pull out a fresh, new, sky blue one!

May the New Year be blessed
with infinite inspiration, joy, and strength
as we navigate through distinct moments:
joyful, challenging, struggling, healing,
messy, exiting, sad, hungry, happy.  
May we learn, may we grow and become
wiser, suppler, more caring, and stronger
as we bravely sail on.

Out of the gracious Old
comes the radiant New!

The Soft Flow

Whatever happens in this world,
in my life,
to live by my heart, I try—
by holding on to my favorite pen
and a sheet of paper,
then spilling out my inspiration.  
I offer that to you, to the world
without any hesitation.

While my creative blood’s on fire,
here… take it, drink, quench your thirst,
your heart’s desire.

Drink deep the cup of life divine,
imbibe each word and every sign,
till every fiber of your being glows,
and every breath feels like a rose.

Such bliss, swimming with the flow…

We are of a different kind, yet
you remain my muse,
the one that sets me free…
So drink and be merry!
May your life be richer
for this verse I offer here to thee.

Never have I found such strength,
to tease out each and every thought
out of the unknown into the world.

Writing is my dopamine-fueled hike,
a fix for my incurable romantic heart,
both my ebb and my flow.
And I sway softly between them all…
I wonder, do I really seek a way to set myself free
from the ocean of both bliss and misery?

My favorite pen,
will you help me,
show me the way as I sail through?
Can you? Will you?
I know you can. I know you will.

“Enough, you have made a fool of yourself,”
mind whispers.
“Silly girl, with her head in the clouds,
wandering in fairyland, round and round.
Come back to the ground.”

Where is this coming from?  
Who am I? Who are you?
Who are we to each other?

This story has no end.
This tale is beyond my time.

I thank you for each
and every breath of inspiration,
guiding me deeper into contemplation.

Such fun!
I never know when
or where my next golden nugget is coming from!
All I need to know is
it’s mine to share with you.

Such gifts are mine to give,
to whomever I so will.
I choose and give it all to you.

Through me—if it resonates—
it flows to you,
and on and on it flows to someone else,
as far and as wide as it wants.

Softly, let it flow.

Full circle is always complete,
in love, in bliss, in pain, or misery.
Two moments are never the same.
Choose wisely what you do, think, write, or say.

The sum of its parts
is always greater than the parts when taken separately.
Togetherness is stronger when expressed as oneness—

when love is there,
when joy is the glue.
Or else… well, 
your heart can surely tell 
if what you hear is true.

My Creative Flow

Walking with umbrella

How does it all unfold?
When that which comes, comes;
when that which goes, goes.

When forces fluctuate like fickle weather,
unknown until known,
right before my eyes;
when the sun means warm,
and the storm means wet.

At times I get the urge to grab my favorite pen;
I feel the bubbling story itching to appear.
At times I swipe the Notes app on my phone,
swiftly following my thoughts,
packing them all in before they disappear.

There is no consistency;
The passage of the flow is unforeseen. 
It’s satisfying, to say the least,
by allowing it to flow
and being part of every written row.
How many? I shall never know…

Until the pouring comes to an end
and the weather is no more,
I say thank you
and close my notebook, laptop, or my phone.

I’m willing to walk the trailblazing expedition.
Witnessing such wondrous magnificence,
the scrumptious dance called fractals of fruition.

How, why, when? So many questions.
I have no answers to explain.
And even if I tried,
it often makes no sense to anyone but me—

Each to their own unique ways,
each of us here to find our own
how, why, and when.

You can read as many blogs and books as you may wish,
indulge in stories,
soak in all the podcasts, audios,
take in all the animations, videos…
It’s a nice way to spend your days
and I’m sure it helps achieve a few important goals,
but does it give you what you seek?

You tell me!
Have you found what you’ve been looking for?

Rarely have I found my unique self-expression through other’s stories.
I have picked up a few golden nuggets of wisdom, inspiration,
filled with thoughts, charged up emotions, associations, memories,
lots of learning opportunities, motivations…

Yet I find myself most profoundly resourceful when I put my mind to rest,
when I integrate, fuse within my own “out of time and sacred space.”
The answers bubble up when temperature is ripe,
when I am willing, ready, open to receive;
when I too become a part of this extraordinary, creative flow of life.

Just like the ramble you now read and see,
it’s not so much about the content I hereby submit. 
It’s all about the flow,
so you can hop on,
bounce off,
and off you go.
Do your own thing.

Catch “it” if you can,
and use it well!

Background reflections:

How does writing occur in my case?

I suppose this process or point of entry varies from one writer to another. Lately, my indication has been counterintuitive… at least for me.

My creative flow happens when I get overwhelmed with an incredible sense of boredom; when I’m on the verge of entering another episode of dreading the current reality.

Luckily, I learned to dodge that bullet. All I have to do is take a pen or a keyboard and let the flow do the rest, allowing it to take me for a different kind of spin of my creative endeavors and exciting outpours. I allow myself to become a segway for the passages, the words, the stories knocking on my doors, waiting to unfold.

And that, my friend, is my secret of how I enter my creative flow—the secret that’s not a secret anymore…

So, then next time boredom, irritation, anxiety, sadness, anger, or downward spiraling come to visit, face it with a completely opposite  and the unassailable force of uplifting energy. Whatever works for you—painting, singing, playing an instrument, dancing, chiseling, trading, moving, writing, cooking, gardening, etc.—spin its course, chart your own! Just try it out and let the magic of the flow unfold while you become the vessel for whatever needs to happen as you put your monkey mind to rest.

Have a great day and a splendid life!