Ask and You Shall Receive

Original photograph by Sandy Chase

I am sitting here, goose bumps covering my skin and tears welling up in my eyes. Each hair on my body is alive as if each is reaching for the sky while my body seems to be melting into the space beneath it.  My breath is still slow, my heart content to beat in time with the rhythm that has pulsed through it.  I am alone but not lonely.  I am still but far from doing nothing.  I am alive and I am aware even as the universe fades from view in eyes wide open.


Thus ends my midday meditation.  It’s not the first time that I have been graced with such an explosion of emotion.  Once, when I was about 14, I had such a tremendous experience while meditating that I stopped practicing until I could better understand the experience.  In that moment I cried like a baby as a sense of love came cascading down from points all around me.  I felt the room fade away as all that remained was the sense of love that filled the areas where intense pain once dwelled.  Light filled darkness, and the unusual experience of joy filled my heart.  Needless to say, I was not prepared to handle it.


I was not alone but I was lonely in my youth.  I was a tortured soul if ever there was one, with parents who instilled such agreements in me as “I am not worthy” or “I am nothing”.  They also created agreements for me that caused me to fear love, to fear commitment, to fear giving myself freely and to fear trusting in anything with a heartbeat.  Yes, they drew up the contracts but it was me who readily agreed to sign them.  I did not understand the latter part of that equation until after my children were born and love began to invade places I kept locked deep within me.  Today, those places are becoming "public parks" where anyone can visit without a moment's hesitation on my part.


It was not until recently that I decided those contracts must become null and void.  Now, you just don’t cancel a contract with fear or anger.  It just doesn’t work that way.  Rather, you must replace those contracts with agreements that make them null and void.  You don’t “ask” for release, you release yourself (action, by the way, is the purest form of asking).  I’ll say that again, this time without the parentheses. Action is the purest form of asking. Perhaps, for those of you who don’t know me, this requires a bit of explanation using my patented analogies.


Say I want to have a successful business in landscaping and I am a very creative landscaper with many talents for the task.  I sit in silent prayer asking the Universe (or God) to make my business successful.  I do this for countless hours a day, several days a week for several weeks in a row.  At the end of the practice, I look at my sales figures in total disbelief.  “Zero sales!?,” I shout.  “The universe must hate me.  That law of attraction stuff is nothing but nonsense!!”


I suggest that is simply not so.  What you have truly done is ask the universe to make you successful at sitting still and praying, to which it replied “YES!”  I have found in my experience that action is the only question the Universe actually understands.  If I sit in a church somewhere and pray for world peace, and then leave the building and attack a person walking down the street, which request am I actually asking the Universe to meet?  That answer seems relatively simple, and to me is one reason gurus like Gandhi said, “BE the change you wish to see in the world” and not “pray that the world changes”.  Make sense?  I can’t find anything else that is clearer spiritually.

Source: Photobucket (username:eyeness)

Having this experience within me, I discovered that I cannot simply ask that an agreement with fear be nullified.  I cannot ask for an end to loneliness while remaining in an empty room attached to a need for companionship.  I cannot ask to be loved while continually spreading fear to those around me.  I cannot ask to “see the light” while sitting on the basket that covers it.  No, I must make other agreements and, in turn, ask the question correctly.  I must walk out of my empty room toward a room filled with others (or lose my attachment to companionship) if I no longer want to be lonely.  I must spread love if I want to see love in return.  I must lift the cover if I wish to see the light under it.  Action, therefore, is the question the Universe understands.


Now, back to the analogy.  I ask the Universe to have a successful landscaping business not by praying for it, but rather by going out and doing a good job at a good value.  I relish in my passion for it and it, in return, provides me with success.  I have made an agreement with success by not only identifying my passion and talent but by putting that passion and talent in ACTION.  To this, the Universe always says “YES!”

Once I discovered this truth a new reality was born for me.  I have replaced the agreements I had with fear with new agreements with Love.  I have replaced the agreements I had with anger with new agreements with joy.  I have replaced the agreements I had with judgment with agreements with peace.  Mostly, I have replaced agreements I had with death with new agreements I have with life.  Amazing, huh?  I have begun asking the questions correctly.  I used to pray that I could become a writer.  Now, I write.  A prayer never once put a moment of inspiration through my fingers onto paper, actually typing them did.    An agreement I had with a dream has been replaced with a new agreement I have with action.  I have replaced asking with action and expecting with doing and have found a great new world in front of me.

What agreements does the Universe have with you?
Source: NASA

Now, the goose bumps have subsided, and I can return to the rest of my passion-filled day.  See, prayer may not get inspiration from fingers to paper, but it does get inspiration from Source to fingers.  Prayer in itself is a question.  Meditation is, after all, an action.  The Universe always says “YES” to both, and anytime we believe it has failed what really has failed is our perception of what we have asked or what we have done.  The Universe never fails, ever.


Be well, and prosper my dear friends.  It’s all up to YOU.

Peace. ☮   ©2011 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ

Broken - A Conversation Between the Saint and the Sinner

The mind does not perceive what it does not know.  What it does not know appears "broken" to it, it disagrees with the notion that others can experience things differently, see things differently or know things differently.  The challenge is to be open to the experience, and accept it for what it is but never lose sight of the importance of Love in the process.  Reactions are human and the physical manifestations of emotion.  We are the sole (or soul) facilitator of how we choose to perceive others in their humanness.

“You are broken” 

“I am.”

“You haven’t changed a bit.”

“So I have always been broken?”

“You have.”

“So, how do I fix myself?”

“You do as I say, act as I act, do as I do. That’s how.”

“And then I am no longer broken?”

“Right, you are then fixed.”

“So, you are not broken?”

“No, I am not. I am normal, I am right.”

“Oh.”

“Make sure you tell your shrink that is how I see you. You are far from fixed.”

“Ok, will you accept me and love me more when I am fixed?”

“I am not sure. I will still think you are broken until you proven to me you aren’t.”

“Um, OK. Will you tell me when you see me differently?”

“Maybe, but I don’t see it has ever happening. Others see you differently. You are happy when you are with them, you are miserable when you are with me.”

“Really? I don’t feel different when I am with you. Sure, I am with you longer, and live my life around you, but I don’t feel differently in my view of things when I am with you.”

“Well, that’s because you are broken.  You smile when you are with them, you are mean when you are with me.”

“Am I mean all of the time, or just when I feel stressed, or aggravation, or overwhelmed, or upset?”

“No, it is all of the time. “

“Every single minute of every single day we are together I am miserable?”

“Yes.”

“Wow, I don’t feel miserable every single minute of every single day.  Are you sure you are right?”

“Yes.  I am normal.  I am right.   You are broken, and need to be fixed.  Someday you will see that I am right, and you will see that you are the same broken boy you have always been.”

“But I feel peaceful and love when I am with you, even in those moments when I feel stressed and aggravated.  Should I not express my emotions to you?  Will that prove that I am fixed.”

“No, you simply should not have those emotions.  Hiding them doesn’t help.”

“So, you never feel overwhelmed and stressed?”

“Sure I do.  But that is different.  Remember, I am normal, you are broken.  Had you not been broken you would see the difference.”

“Oh, ok, I got it.  I need to get normal.”

“Exactly”

“Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.” — Rumi

Peace. ☮   ©2011 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ

A Father's Father's Day Message

My dear Children,


I stand here as just your father.  A man whom you may see much differently than I see myself in a way only a perfect child can.  A man who would pay a great price to be able to see the world through your eyes, to see me as you see me, to find joy in most things, and love in all things.  Today is a day set apart for you to honor me, and I stand here, just a man who would be so much less if not for you, to tell you the truth as I see it.


On this day you honor me my truth is that I honor you.  You have taken a boy and made him a man.  You have shown light into the darkness, heaped joy upon sorrow, and gave way to a bright new view of the world through eyes not yet jaded by life's insanity.  See, the day you were born I was but a boy myself wandering alone in the fields of self pity and self indulgence.  You taught me joy beyond words and a smile in sacrifice while giving me the sense of direction no compass could provide.  Those things you honor in me on this day are the very things you have given me.  The strength you see has come from a place but empty before you filled it.  The light of love you see in me has come from a place very dark until you enlightened it.  The teacher you see in me has come from the student you have allowed me to be.  I am because you are, and in that no greater gift could you give me on this day.


My dear Children, you were perfect the day you were born.  You lived without a sense of time, causing me to question its very existence.  You moved without a sense of urgency, causing me to wonder why I need rush at all.  When you laughed you brought a smile where none existed, and yes even created a laugh where none would have been otherwise.  When you took your first steps you taught me patience.  When you learned to run you taught me even more patience.  When you learned to talk, well you challenged those lessons of patience you had taught me.  Through it all you knew that I could never stay mad at you, and you forgave me for even trying.  Yes, it was you who held my hand and caused me to stand straighter, it was you who taught me that love wasn't just something you said without thought, and it was you who gave my life tremendous meaning in the simple word which still sends a jolt through my soul:


"Daddy."


Yes dear Children, your Daddy loves you.  I love you when I am trying to teach you something and you look at me like I am crazy.  I love you when you decide to do your own thing regardless of how much I kick and scream.  I love you when you save a worm from the sidewalk after a rain.  I love you when you pick your Mom dandelions from the yard "just because".  I love you when you don't call, when you don't go to bed on time, when you question the very existence of everything I may hold dear.  I love you when you win, I love you when you don't, and I love you when you could care less as long as you had a good time trying.  I love you when you sing, I love you when you pout, I love you when you root for the Giants or the Yankees just because I am rooting for my team.  I love you when you are who you are regardless of who I think you should be.  I love your hugs, I love that you know your Mommy is the greatest and I love you when you tell me my favorite song is "old".  I love you because you are, and because you are you have allowed me to be.


So I go about this day taking in the "Happy Father's Days" and the cards and the gifts.  I take them in so that I can let the love they show return.  They are tokens my dear Children.  Tokens of a day when the Universe bestowed upon this lowly man the greatest gift it has to offer.  We call this gift your birthday, and in each of those days we find an example of the power that love itself provides.  A single and childless friend one asked me "wouldn't you like to go back to the days when you could just leave when you wanted and could do what you wished?"  I simply closed my eyes and saw your faces and replied, "not in a million trillion bazillion years pal."  See, I know when you tell me that you love me "to the moon and back" that you are talking about some moon science hasn't even discovered yet.  I know that because you won't stop asking me how to get there...


Anyway, thank you for letting your Daddy tell you how he feels and thank you for always telling me how you feel in those many different ways you do.  I used to think, when changing your diapers, "do unto others as you would have them do unto you".  Why?  Well you'll get it someday, maybe, and when you do we'll both laugh at the irony of it all.  At least I hope so.



Peace. ☮   ©2011 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ

Where's the Sunshine (or, Beyond the layers)

"Where's the sun?"  I repeat the question to the Universe that was suggested by a friend who seemed to be suffering at the loss of sunshine.  After all, cloudy days seem to bring out the “blahs” in most of us, and today seemed like no exception.

"It's there, you simply choose to focus on the clouds," came the reply.  The answer makes me wonder why we choose to see the Universe as this complicated realm of physics when it seems like nothing more than a simple expression of what is.  Yes, I chuckle even as I type those words.  Usually, the Universe answers me in the most simplistic fashion which suggests to me that I am the one over-complicating things.

The answer I got is certainly indisputable.  I've been on enough airplanes to know that a clear view of the daytime sun is only a few thousand feet from me.  So the question must be rhetorical because, after all, we all know where the sun is.  It's there, it's shining, and it is allowing us the ability to see the clouds we have chosen to focus on.  It is us that create the clouds into a source of suffering, and it is our choice to focus on that source rather than to peel away the layers to the Light that allows us to see them.

Love is like the sun.  When we become somber or angry, those emotions serve as the clouds that hide the sunshine.  We could make a choice to focus on the clouds or the light beneath them.  After all, it is that light that allows us to see the clouds, right?  Just like the sun, Love itself is not extinguished because of a few clouds nor does it vanish in the presence of fear even if we can’t see it shining high within us.  It's always there, always shining, regardless of where we choose to place our focus.  If only we would look beyond the layers, beyond the clouds, and place our focus on the sunshine we could allow the clouds to be without distracting us from our focus.

I wasn't done with this, so I had to "ask" what seemed like the most logical of questions.  "What happens if we redirect our attention from the clouds and focus solely on the sunshine?"

"Transformation."

The Universe rarely speaks to us in words, and this answer really didn't come in the form of a word.  I use "transformation" to describe the explanation I received.  See, I didn't ask the question with words either.  Rather, I asked it by simply redirecting my focus from the clouds to the sunshine.  A smile crept upon my lips, and I actually laughed out loud.  That is "transformation" folks.  I asked properly and received a proper answer.  I could have asked the question verbally while still only focusing on the clouds and my answer would have been much different because the Universe answers true questions (actions) with true answers (actions, or what we call "REactions, see Newton's Third Law).  Words are meaningless outside of our own minds and rarely have an effect unless used in an intense moment of stillness.

The blame we give to the Universe for not answering our questions is equally meaningless.  We simply are asking them wrong, and not seeing the true answer to the true question.  Ask (correctly) and you shall receive.  It's a matter of action, of focus, not of words.  If you ask your neighbor for an egg while throwing them at his house which question will get the answer?  Right, the one you ask through action.

I have come to know myself quite well in recent years through tears, trial, tribulation, suffering, and the LOVE that allowed me to see them all.  I know that my mind reacts to certain stimuli based on the 40 some-odd years of conditioning that I have allowed.  I can be a cold bastard, a big bear, a manipulative asshole, a caring man all depending on how I let my focus be directed.  I am in control for sure and sometimes I choose to allow my conditioning to cloud the sunshine.  I love everyone, but get someone to cut me off in traffic and the clouds set in.  I am being less focused on the sunshine and more distracted by the clouds.  This discovery is the key to "transformation".  Once I understand that I alone changed my focus, I then understand that I alone can change it back.  This seems to be true for each and every aspect of our human existence where we ourselves are the "Creator".

In this understanding I also know that I can't "beat myself up" for my distractions.  After all, we learn to appreciate the sunny days because of cloudy ones like this.  I desire to focus on the sunshine and allow those moments of lost focus to remind me of how much I love the Light.  Blindfolds always make the light that much brighter once removed.  Prayer, or meditation, should be the practice of removing the blindfold and of changing the focus point of our moments.  It isn't that the blindfold is bad, it is simply that I wish to focus on the brightness the Light affords.  Each is perfect in its own way, and fulfilling its purpose regardless of what I create it to be.

Remember, in this perspective yoga is the question.  Meditation is the question.  Compassion is the question.  Charity is the question.  Exercise is the question.  Healthy eating is the question.  These are not answers to anything; they are merely the questions we ask the Universe to which it, of course, will answer.  In truth, no words are ever necessary in this dynamic and never-ending dialog between Love and the Lover.

Anyway, there I go over-complicating things again.  Sometimes I wish I could just point at the silver lining I see and have that be enough.  After all, isn't that how the Universe says it all?

A Morning Revelation: How to Ask the Universe

The way to ask the universe is often not best done with words.  Words seem too open to interpretation to me, too dependent on the perspective of both the listener and the speaker.  Most of the time we aren't even sure if we are saying what we mean let alone if what we are hearing is what is meant by the speaker.  Words seem to fall short most of the time, either in describing what we mean or how we feel.  Truly, how can one really describe the way they feel at the first sight of their newborn baby, or describe the moments of inspiration seen at the first glimpse of a sunrise? Sometimes it just seems better to speak in silence which may, of course, be the meaning of the old axiom "he who knows does not speak, he who speaks does not know".

Now, we can speak a shared experience without words.  When we watch the sun rise together we can speak "wow" without ever saying a word.  Experience, it would seem, is a much better describer of things than our mouths or pens could ever hope to be.  Why, then, do we ask the Universe for stuff with words?

It came to me while walking in mediation this morning when I was "asking" the universe for answers.  I was reciting a prayer I read in Marianne Williamson's "A Course in Weight Loss" when the answer was given to me.  The prayer goes like this:

Dear God,Please remove the wall that I have built around me.I have built it so strong,dear God,that I cannot tear it down.I surrender to You every thought of separation,every feeling of fear,every unforgiving thought.  Please, dear God,take this burden from me forever.Amen

It's a great prayer, used to end the grip that fear has on me in its various forms (anger, jealousy, impulsive behavior) and it works for me.  It dawned on me this time, however, that I was asking the wrong way.  I was speaking the words.  Whether from my lips or in my head, I was forming words to ask for something that no words could truly describe.  I wanted freedom, and assistance, and health, and abundance but it seemed so shallow to simply "ask" for it in the manner I have been asking for over 4 decades now.  So, how do you ask for something without using the words?

Well, in that miraculous moment, I understood that my methodology for asking had to be something much deeper.  Rather than ask like this, "Dear God, please remove the wall that I have built around me" I begin hammering at the wall realizing completely that I am not doing it alone.  Rather than ask like this, "please bring me abundance" I simply do what I enjoy.  See, the Universe (or God) does not ever let you do what you can't do alone, its mechanism is to always jump in to help whenever asked (and it knows when it is being asked).  When you forgive others their trespasses, YOU are forgiven your own.  You need not ask "God, forgive me my trespasses", you simply need forgive others.

So today I asked the Universe for fitness.  I did not open my mouth, I just walked.  I asked the Universe for health, and I did not speak.  I ate an apple.  I asked the Universe for peace, and yet did not utter a prayer.  I became peaceful and guess what?  The Universe answered, not in words, but in every other way imaginable.

I guess that when we believe that God never talks to us, it is because we are waiting for words to come at us like orders from a drill instructor or for them to appear in the clouds as if written by a sky-writer.  Yet, it would seem that in most cases we get what we ask for.  A steady diet of McDonald's will get us sick.  A high intake of salt gives us high blood pressure.  Overeating makes us fat.  Anger makes us mad.  We ask for everything we are given for the most part, with few exceptions.  Yet, when we get what we ask for but don't like the results we blame God.  God listens to each and every one of our prayers, but it seems that God listens to the ones without words first.  So, perhaps it is time to know rather than speak?

Hmmmmmmm...


Peace. ☮  
  ©2011 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ

A Prayer of Remembrance

Dear God,
Please give me the courage and strength today to Remember.
Remember those who have had their light extinguished so that another light may shine, and to give evidence that in Truth all light is One,
Remember that in Love life holds supreme value, and that life itself is not to be wasted on ideas, fear and emotion.
Remember that the service of restraint must surpass the service of vengeance.

Dear God,
Please give me the cause today to Remember,
Remember those who suffer at the loss of a loved one,
Remember those sacrifices as so enormous as to be made only with the true and utmost reluctance.
Remember that Peace is the victory we seek, not vengeance, not retribution, and not satisfaction of a blood lust.

Allow us to remember that we cannot find Peace unless Peaceful,
And that we cannot find Hope unless Hopeful.
And that we cannot find love without first opening our arms to embrace it.
Today allow me to remember that we cannot forgive others until we have forgiven ourselves,
And that there is no liberty until we allow others to be free.

Dear God of Love, Unity and Compassion,
On this day allow me to remember there is no glory in killing,
There is no true glory on the battlefield, or in the upraised arms of the victor,
For thine alone is the Kingdom, and the Power, and the Glory,
Forever and ever, Amen.


Peace. ☮  
  ©2011 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ

A Miracle Moment #1

On Sunday, May 29, I was challenged by a dear friend to ask the universe for something, "anything", to which the universe would always respond "yes".  Since I had no idea what I would ask for prior to the challenge, there was a moment's hesitation between the challenge and the request as I thought about what I should ask for.  The shear number of suggestions that popped into my head during this moment was astounding.  Should I ask for abundance, love, peace, harmony, more sex, less sex (just kidding), health, joy?  Finally the answer was clear as if it was not really me making the decision.  Perhaps I had asked the universe for the question?  If I did the question I needed to ask became quite clear even if the answer itself was not.  Well, not at first anyway.

The conversations we have with the universe can occur at super-light speeds.   As quickly as I posed the request, it seemed the answer was echoing in my otherwise still mind.  It's funny, but when you still your mind the slightest breeze in it can feel like a hurricane-force gale.  In this case, both me and the universe sounded a bit like Gandhi talking through a megaphone; peaceful and content but with a touch of force behind the words.  Such conversations often bring a smile to my face.

In this moment, the conversation went something like this:

"I want more love and forgiveness to come into my life," I asked silently in the stillness of my mind.
"I can't give you any more, you have all there is to have," came the reply.
"Wait, you were supposed to say 'yes" to each request," I said rather abruptly to the Universe.
"I did say yes, long ago when you stated you wanted to know love and forgiveness.  I gave you all there is to give, you just don't allow it in."
"Then I want to allow more love and forgiveness to come into my life," came my rather sarcastic response.
"Then allow it."  It seems I don't have the market cornered on sarcasm after all.  "I'm not stopping you."
"Alright, then allow me to be a vessel of love and forgiveness."
"Ok, you're allowed.  Now what?"

I was a bit dumbfounded.  Was the universe that frustrated with me as to treat me so harshly?

"Fine, let me make this easier then, I want more abundance to come into my life," I said in the matter-of-fact kind of way children usually reserve for those moments when negotiations for more TV time are breaking down..
"I can't give you any more, you have all there is to have," came the reply.

I was just about to respond with the "wait, you were supposed to say 'yes' to each response" part of the continual conversation when it hit me.  Here I was, proverbial mouth wide open, proverbial finger about to point, staring into the universe when I suddenly realized I was proverbially speechless.  I was having that "miracle moment" I had often heard described but never had really seen.  Not that they have never happened, I just haven't seen them.  Yet here it was, in all of its glory, a miracle moment all of my own.

See, I have asked for it all at one time or another in this existence.  I have asked for help, love, forgiveness, money, strength, enlightenment, peace, victory, harmony, courage, understanding, and the zillion other things that have come up at one time or another.  Yet, in my very human perspective I have felt neglected in the answer.  I continued to make mistakes for which I believed I was not getting help.  I continued to feel unloved as the darkness fell all around me.  I felt despised for my mistakes and unworthy of either love or forgiveness from those around me and, most of all, from myself.  I felt money was always going to be an issue no matter how much I asked for abundance.  It seems that no matter how many times I have asked, the answer was usually a far cry from the "yes" I was told was coming.  Whether that small child crying for help under his bed, or that young boy asking for strength while hiding under the blanket he thought would make him invisible, I have asked for it all already. As a young man struggling for identity and some semblance of self-esteem I have asked for it all.  As a man working to provide for his family and wanting so desperately to see his family have the happiness he himself had never had I have asked for it all.

In that moment of realization, in that miracle moment, using that always perfect 20/20 version of hindsight, I understood it was never the universe saying "no" it was my unwillingness to allow the answer to be.  I myself converted the tests of my youth to fear in adulthood.  I alone created monsters out of shadows.  I alone was the creator of unhappiness in those around me and, most importantly, in myself.  I had asked the universe for a shovel to find gold, which it provided, and I in turn used the gift to dig a grave while denying that the gift itself was ever provided.

I smiled in that moment as I am smiling now.  Tears welled in my eyes as they are welling now.  A feeling of something, peace, love, harmony, whatever you wish to call it, fell over me and completely filled my body.  I understood in this, my miracle moment.

"Allow."
"Thank you," was the only reply I could mutter and it was the only one needed.

In this moment the universe had again answered my request in with a resounding "yes".  What was different was that I was listening, I heard that "yes".  In fact, it still echoes in my heart as if stuck in a continual loop.  I admit that there must be a million "miracle moments" presented to us in our daily lives and about a million that go unseen.  This one moment has changed me.  I love me, and I love you.  While that in itself is no different than before what is different is the simple (ok, maybe no so simply) act of allowance.  With this in mind allow me to leave you with one simple quote that is shouting from my soul at this very moment,

"In Gandhi's time there were over a billion Gandhis in the world.  Only one had the willingness to allow it."


Peace. ☮  
  ©2011 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ

The Two Qualities

There are but two qualities that reside within me: that which I know and that which I believe.  What I know is rooted in Love and Eternity, what I believe is rooted in fear and damnation.  My life's purpose is to let go of what I believe and let what I know fill the space.

What I know is not the confirmation of what I believe, it is what is left when I let go of what I believe.
What I know is not the ideas in my mind, it's what is left when I let go of those illusions.
What I know is not the faith that my heart will beat, it is in the sound I hear when it does.
What I know is not the belief in the idea of God, it is in what I know when silent.
What I know is not the body nailed to the cross, but the Spirit that body and cross could not defeat.  It resides in each of us.
To know is to be enlightened, to believe is to be denied.

Peace. ☮  
©2011 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ

Short thought...

The key to life is not in making sure you tell others how much you love them, it is in making sure you never have to.


Peace. ☮

  ©2011 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ

The Who and What

I struggle with your condemnation and your desire to create what you see with what you think; and I wonder, "What?"

Who is it that you are creating me to be?  In this moment, who is it that your eyes want to see?  Who is doing the wrong, and who is doing the judging?

I struggle with your understanding and your desire to believe what fear dictates you to have faith in; and I wonder "What?"

What is it that you are searching for?  What do you wish to create in the moment?  What is it you are truly trying to accomplish?

These are but rhetorical questions, as many I ask are.  I don't seek the answer in you, I seek the answer in me.  Yet I hope in my search you may find an answer in you.  I forgive me for the question so that I may forgive you for the answer.  In this forgiveness I can see the meaning I give both the question and the answer, and the trouble that meaning may have caused in footsteps laid long ago.  Today there is but light, forgiveness, and the love that gives life to both.

Peace. ☮



©2011 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ

The Love of a Woman

Imagine for one minute you are sitting there completely devoid of feelings. You feel nothing, not contempt, not anger, not hate, not worry, not joy, not love.  You are still living, but you truly can't experience the life you are living because you are unable to feel it.  Think about it, if you could not feel the moments, would you actually be able to experience those moments?  Would they have any meaning?  If the answer is, as I suspect, a resounding "no", then it must be that feelings are not only the translation of life's experience into thought, but also the translation of thought into a life's experience.  They interact with one another, with one molding the other so completely as to change the fabric of reality within the artistry.  Both are that powerful and that necessary.

I was taught a lot about my feelings in the anger of a woman.  I was taught a lot about my feelings in the sexual deviance of a woman.  I was taught a lot about my vision of self in the pain of a woman. I was taught a lot about who I am in the rejection of a woman (in case you haven't guessed by "woman" I mean "women").  Yet despite all of these experiences and lessons, I learned the most about myself in the love of a woman.  Interestingly, I can no longer see these events as separate unto themselves.  Fear (anger, jealousy, hatred, contempt, etc.) is not a separate entity to love.  Rather, it is an opportunity for love to know itself, to express itself, to show itself and to understand.  Love is known because fear is known, fear is known because love expresses itself so perfectly that fear is allowed to be.  In fact, it must be.

It has been my life's experience that pain is no small substitute for love's understanding and that fear is not the absence of love as some may suggest.  I have looked at many moments of supposed lack, pain, anger, sorrow, etc. and can see the light of love beneath the basket of fear.  Love is like the tapestry to which fear is the seam, like a great masterpiece where love is the canvas and fear is the paint.  These things are not separate, they are one, unable to honestly exist without one another.  It is us who assigns "good" or "bad" to them, who separates one into the "good" pile and the other into the "bad" pile.  We create the idea of separation in order to feel special about ourselves when we spread love and demonize ourselves when we act in fear.  Yet, without this need for praise or rejection, love and fear operate within the same circle, allowing the expression of one through the experience of the other.  They are, in essence, perfect until we create them otherwise.

For me, I experienced fear most of my known life.  I was taught it from a young age and it was reinforced throughout most of my adult life.  I magnified the rejection of my peers in fear, the loneliness I experienced (often self-created) was enhanced by fear, I expressed fear in womanizing, in sexual deviance and in inflicting great pain on those who would dare get close to me.  I fought fear with violence, spread fear through anger, and basically created a universe of fear around me.  That was how I gave meaning to life.

Yet now, through the love of a woman, I experience love.  The sun has risen, the spring is upon me, and the thaw is creating vast rivers flooding my soul.  With no effort on my part, I magnify the acceptance of all things, feel equal completeness in being alone or in a crowd, express my love to all things and wish to be a vessel of warmth for anyone who would grace me with their presence.  I embrace love with open arms and allow it to spread around me in order to provide light, warmth and shelter wherever it is necessary.  Sometimes those things manifest themselves as a smile on the lips of a stranger, or an embrace of an old friend, or in one of a million ways love can show itself.  That is the goal and intention of each moment at least, the success of which I will leave to others who wish to do the separating.

And that is love, or at least the feeling of love expressed to me.  It speaks a word I cannot speak myself, describes a beauty that is indescribable, so therefore I realize I am probably not doing a very good job of describing what I feel.  Yet, I believe that once we experience love, we need not have it described to us...we can just allow it to be.  My goal here was not to describe love, but describe the perfection of fear as it relates to love.  I no longer hold the concept that they are different, or separate, or "good" versus "bad".  One is not perfect while the other imperfect; they are simply One perfect expression of the Whole, completely reliant on one another because they are not separate from each other.  At their quantum levels they are the same experience expressing itself differently or the same expression of a different experience.  The are the white light we can see as blue and red.

At the end of the day, I was shown fear by a woman and shown love by a woman.  Yet, the choice of which to express and experience resided solely with me.  In fact, the choice resides solely with each of us.  If we blame another for our actions, we fail to recognize that we solely made the choice of the expression.  We fail to realize the wholeness of the stimulus to the response and the fact the we alone are responsible for the choice of mindfulness or forgetfulness.  Which do YOU choose this very moment?  Of course that question's rhetorical, that answer is known long before you can express it.  Yet, if you can recognize that you are the soul Creator of the expression of who you are, you can become mindful of who you are.  It's not a trick, or a gimmick, it's a time-tested and verifiable way of expressing your Oneness regardless of the choice you make in how you experience the moment.

Enjoy in joy the moment, and your expression; and who you are.

Peace.


©2011 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ

A Reason to Live Today

I have found such a beautiful reason to live today.  It's not money, or success, or closing a deal, or my car, or my home, or "my family", or any other "impermanent" thing I could list as a cause.  In fact, the reason I found to live today is somewhat different than a thing, in fact it is nothing at all (yes, I seem to love that play on words).  Let me explain.

Today I had conversations with two old and dear friends.  I have not seen these friends in at least 15 years and although they weren't always on the tip of my tongue there were always within the soul that inspires it.  What I discovered in those conversations was that despite the gap of time that had elapsed since I last saw them the feeling they created in me had not dissipated at all.  The same smile crept up on my lips, the same laugh echoed from my throat, the same joy came crashing from my heart.  Certainly we had changed as years passed.  Certainly we had experienced life in many different ways, and those experiences had an influence on who we are and how we see the universe.  Surely we had all become byproducts of a life formula that is as individual as it is universal.  Despite all of that here I was, smiling, laughing, and taking great joy in the fact that these friends were in my present moment.

It came to me in an awesome wave of understanding that felt like the warmth of a fire on a frigid winter's morning.  Here was my beautiful reason for living.  It wasn't the conversation or the memories or the chance to connect with old friends.  It was the joy.  I felt as if the moment stood still, that any joy I was providing these people was being returned to me a hundred fold.  See, they let me in, and in doing so provided me with an eternal gift, a continuous wave of love and joy that is eternal even if it gets overshadowed from time to time.

I have come to what is, to me, a rather astounding revelation.  When I outstretch my hand to someone whether during a fire, or a rescue, or just on the street as another anonymous human Being my outstretched hand is not the gift.  No, the gift here is found in the acceptance of my hand.  What is the gift in this relationship is not the offer of love but the acceptance of it.  The giver of this gift offers me the joy of accepting it, and in that joy I have found an eternity that is indescribable and immutable.  The joy I felt in these old friends 15 years ago still existed today.  It wasn't new joy, it wasn't new love, it was the same as what as existed since the beginning.  The giver and the receiver are impermanent in the flesh but eternal in ripple or wave that we, in our limited ability to communicate, call "Love".

Today I feel inspired to not only accept the gifts of love and joy but to re-gift them to as many as possible in the time I am given.  I don't think anyone will mind...

Peace.

©2011 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ

...

Sometimes I must just say to my self,
"Self, enjoy this moment and it will last forever,
find sadness now and suffer for eternity,
resist now and forever be resistant,
but love now and be awakened from the lie."

I talk to my self because I am the only one who will listen,
"You know you're being silly it's part of the game,
it's meaningless rejection given meaning by you,
You know it isn't real it's simple projection,
to dance in the fire is to prove you're alive."

©2011 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ

I Have

I have but one wish,
And that is to die a happy man.
I have but one dream,
And that is to live as a happy man.
I have but one reality,
And that is that I can be a happy man.
I have but one thought,
And that is "I should be happy".
I have but one thing in my possession,
And that is my own joy.
I have but an answer to your question,
"I hope you find happiness".
I have but one mission,
And that is to discover the meaning of bliss.

I cannot understand the overwhelming sadness that washes over me.
I cannot compute the anger that I feel.
I cannot help the despair that drives me to complete numbness.
I cannot stop the voices that tell me what to think.
I cannot forget the memories that drive me to madness.
Yet I know that I can be happy if only to forgive
Because these things prove to me that such joy exists.
Although "I cannot" all of these things there can be bliss in spite of them,
I know that I can be an oasis of peace in a desert of war,
If only I would lay my sword to rest.

I have but one reality, and it is the one that I choose.
How you see me in my moment of despair is your reality,
A reality you choose as if it were a play not written to your liking
Or entertaining you beyond all measure.
I could come down from this cross or simply choose to embrace it,
But what would you have me do with yours?
I have no choice in your suffering,
I have no desire to see you in it,
Yet I have no ability to remove you from its grasp.
We know that love exists, yet we choose to run from it,
To seek out the nails that hold us to our suffering
And make them hold us fast to the pain we have chosen as our own.

I offer you my hand,
If not to hold yours in ecstasy than to endure the nail with you,
To suffer with you as you have suffered with me,
To beg of you to seek another way but to share with you the path you have chosen.
There are not options if you choose love's reality.
For I have seen the promise land,
In your eyes, in your arms, in the promise of tomorrow.
I have seen where my journey ends,
As surely as I know where it began.

See, if I have nothing else in this life I have a choice.
A choice to love or to fear,
To be or not to be.
To ask the question or live the answer,
To heal or to hurt, to caress or ignore,
To forgive and re-member or remember and stay angry.
Such choice I can make in the blink of an eye,
With the power of the universe behind me.

I have a choice.


©2011 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ

What is a "Wife"?

Yes, some of you out there will read this and say, "someone got lucky!"  Yes, even though at present I am getting yelled at for loading a dishwasher that had some clean dishes in it I would agree.  I am not "getting lucky" in the deviant way some would suggest (including myself from time to time), but in the more complete sense of the phrase.  I can look back on my life from my earliest memories to this very moment and simply agree, "yes, I got lucky."

See I am certainly not perfect.  I put dirty dishes in a dishwasher full of clean ones .  I sometimes put whites in with darks.  Sometimes I snore like a locomotive missing a piston.  Sometimes I forget my underwear on the floor.  I am a man, and therefore cannot make any excuses as to my imperfections.  I was made divinely imperfect so that I may find someone in my life who makes each day a bit more "perfect".

That someone is my wife.  Sometimes I hate the term "my wife".  It is as if there is some sort of possession there.  I have found over the years that I cannot own this woman.  She carries a pit of fire in her that cannot be held for long, yet cannot be let go of.  She is beautifully creative, forging the greatest beauty out of the roughest iron or at the very least will give great effort in trying.  She is a soft hammer and a hard chisel, the proverbial rock and hard place.  She can be as soft as a cloud and as tough as the lightning carried within it.  There is no "owning" my wife, there is only a partnership that suggests "my wife" is mine because she wants to be.

And there is great glory in that from my perspective.  This is how I got lucky, a woman I can only describe as fearsome allowed me into her life.  I saw not only a beautiful pool in her eyes, but also my own reflections in moments so intensely personal as to effect the universe.  Sometimes I liked what I saw, but mostly I recoiled from the image.  Oddly enough, I found that when we see ourselves in such beautiful art one of two things can happen.  Either we find that we can stand within the picture and compliment it, or we contrast with it and somehow make it less beautiful.  Then we can make a decision, either we love what we see and work to make it more beautiful, or we don't and we destroy it from within.

Of course this is to suggest that the artist herself has no input, which clearly is not the case.  Our wives as artists not only hone us to magnificence but also give us the inspiration we need to shape ourselves into something that fits into the art.  They provide the vision, we provide the color.  Sometimes it works in reverse.  Still, what is left to observe is a masterpiece that is forever in the making.  I can see the results of our efforts in our children, and can look at awe at the creations that such work can provide.  My children are, to me, an example of what can happen when two artists give their all to each other to create one beautiful masterpiece.  Or two.  Or three.  It's not about the sex, or the conception, or the birth, it's about the continual willingness to create and work together to provide such wonders.

This is what a wife does to us.  Remember folks, you don't need to be "married" to have a wife.  You simply need to have a partner in your life who is part of you.  I don't need a state contract to say Veronica is my wife, I can feel it in every cell of my being.  That feeling, that testament to something indescribable, is what makes us "married".  That same feeling is what makes us so willing to become better versions of ourselves, to make that person who inspires it revel in the feeling as well.  It's a shared caress that makes us husband and wife.  It's a kiss stolen in the chaos of life that makes us one.  It's the willingness to become better for each other regardless of how perfect we believe we may be.  It's NOT just the sacrifice that makes us lovers, it's the joy we find in making it.

Yes, "I would walk 500 miles and I would walk 500 more" for a simple hug from my woman.  I mean could anything beat the feeling I get when I get that hug?  I haven't found one.  So as I am being told I have to leave (she also either keeps me on schedule or throws me wildly off it), I do so with one parting thought.  A wife is someone to live and to die for.  She is someone you stop a moment of inspiration for because she WILL inspire another.  She is someone you listen to, long for, and dream about.  In this instance, she is someone you stop proofreading for.  At least that is my experience, and I hope that is shared by many others.

"Yes babe, I am coming!"  That's the best I can do, for now...


©2011 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ

Untitled 4/5/11

I have not once but many times,
Stood tall for lofty praise,
And taken chucks of foolish gold,
To seek such lonely gaze.

From withered heights' oblivion,
I've longed for lover's touch,
The warrior within me speaks,
I ask of her too much.

Who perished thoughts within me bind,
These chains that hold me still?
No key to press this rusted lock,
My captor's only will.

No evening glance of longed flesh,
No morning glory's rising sun,
This iron's press of fancy shall,
Surely see its whim be done.

Is it past I bade farewell this day?
Or love's sweet shrill embrace?
Whichever treads so lightly now,
Will help me keep my pace.




©2011 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ

Woken

The solitude of this place brings it all home.  I can't tell if this is a dream or not, but I reach for her in the empty spot that is where she should be.  I call out her name but hear no reply.  I look for her but see nothing.  I am utterly alone.

I yearn for the warmth of her body and the sound of her breathing.  She'd kill me if I woke her ("pleasant" is not a word that describes her when she awakens) but I'd give anything just to see her there right now.  I can feel her without touching her, but I'd almost risk her wrath for even the slightest touch at this moment.  Time stands still - a second lasts a lifetime when you are waiting for the next; minutes, hours and days become an eternity when I simply want to be home near those who hold my love and dreams within them.  This is the beautiful torture of love.

So, I am here and she is there; a hundred miles becomes a million, the darkness becomes my only sanctuary.  I will close my eyes and head back to the peaceful realm of slumber where I can touch her, feel her, and know that she is there.  Goodnight my dear, hold me in your heart as I hold you in mine, and miss me as I miss you.  I will be home shortly...

Peace.


©2011 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ

"Goodnight"

“Goodnight”.  A simple word acting as a levee, holding back a flood of emotions not betrayed on this night.  A lonely word meant to suggest the end of the day results in a flurry of inspiration that must be captured or lost.  It’s funny how small moments like this can create something wonderful in the heart of men.  This moment will do nothing but allow me to explain what a “goodnight” means.

(Warning: the following does NOT contain sexually graphic descriptions of eroticism.  And while that may define “good nights” on many occasions, on this one the definition is one of a more nurturing nature.  To my family, you may uncover your eyes.  To my friends, you can resume normal breathing.)

Tonight, as it usually does, “goodnight” means “you’re beautiful.  I have never seen a more beautiful woman in the world.  Can’t I kiss you this moment?  Can’t I hold you until the sun rings in tomorrow?  Can’t you breathe into me the breath you have just stolen from my lungs?  If I ask the Universe for but one favor it is to see you in the morning.  Let me show you tomorrow what love you bring to me this moment.  Let the fire rage all night and consume me whole in the morning.  I am but a fortunate son who has found his slice of heaven.”

I am not so sure how many “goodnights” are left for me.  I treasured this one.  I hold it firmly in my mind and allow it to echo gently in my heart. I allow a flash of light as our day rolls by.  The walk in the woods, the “chasing fire”, the reading, the drive, the shared laughter…how could I replace this day with any other?  Today allowed me to hear the stories of a 6 year old angel, the questions of a 4 year old little man, so many moments of pure love that how could there have been anything but?  As we walked in Nature I focused a moment on those footsteps etched lightly in the Earth.  I marveled for a moment that here was my life as it stood.  Here are two little people born of love who changed the universe as surely as the Big Bang itself.  They are the best of me, of us.  They are not moments of ecstasy, they are moments of love.  As surely as they grace this planet’s face with their own we can say that we loved, and as a result we gave birth to Creation itself. 

And then there are your footprints.  Sure and steady, patient and loving, calm and with purpose they stand.  You light the fire my Brown Eyed girl, and you light the way.  No torch has ever burned so brightly or so intensely as you did this day.  I follow you even as I walk in the lead; I know you are there even as I look ahead.  This could not have existed without each and every second that led up to it.  The sun seems brighter, the air cleaner, and the world alive around us.  Thank you my dear, for making this moment possible.

“Goodnight”.  Sleep softly and remember me in your dreams.  I love you. 

©2011 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ

Allow me to introduce myself…

I am a bore.  I have no desire to go to bars.  I have no rhythm so you won’t find me on the dance floor.  I hate strip clubs and don’t find strippers appealing in the least (in fact, I don’t really have the need to have my worth measured by how many dollar bills I am willing to fork over).  I never liked eating at Hooters, and never go to places for the attractiveness of the women in attendance.  I don’t get high, in fact I don’t use recreational drugs of any kind.  I don’t want random sex with random people, I am happy with the “someone who loves me” providing me with that not-so-simple pleasure.  I can find a simple one-on-one conversation as stimulating as any group debate, and find intelligence and wit as attractive as curves and her beautiful brown eyes.  I love long walks on the beach, sometimes to allow thoughts to drain from my mind, but would love the conversation about those thoughts (or thoughts I have yet to think) with someone else who also needs to drain. 

I love the clean air and the mountains.  I do love the beach, although I find the vainness there sometimes to be a bit much to bear.  Still, when I see her on the beach I can see that sometimes a few pixels of beauty added to the big picture can certainly make it better.  Yes, my Brown-Eyed girl makes the beach a heaven and a haven.  As I get absorbed by the magnificence of the ocean, the give of the sand, the calming sound of the surf she brings me back to the reality that there is beauty in people too.  They aren’t always just vain, or angry, or pretentious.  No, sometimes there is just an awe-inspiring beauty in people that causes you to lose your breath.  I have that in my Brown-Eyed girl.

The mountains hold a special magnificence for me.  The air is clean, and nature has a certain energy there that makes you feel truly alive.  I don’t feel this as much in the mountains of North Jersey, but I can tell you that I have never felt more at home than in the mountains near Boulder, Colorado.  It was like a strong North pole to my South.  There was something about that place that just would not let my soul leave.  My body is home, my heart is here, but my mind is always wondering back to that place where my soul felt alive.  I can show you the spot someday.  A spot where the view would take your breath away and the environment would steal your soul the moment it had found this “heaven”.   I can only imagine that in standing there with my Brown-Eyed girl and our babies that I would become a monument, unable to be unearthed and unable to be moved.  Such is the love I have of that place.

I love, yet I hide it very well.  I have become quite adept at replacing love with anger, a lesson well taught by some who professed to love me as a child.  I was stolen from my father in my toddler stage, lied to about him right up into my 30’s, abused, beaten, and made an outcast by those who were entrusted to teach me how to be a man and a loving husband and father.  The politically correct thing to say here is that “I can’t blame them anymore”, after all, I am a grown man with ideas, thoughts and emotions that should be under my control.  I can’t lie like that anymore.  My “teachers” failed me and so I fail others.  I have had to try to relearn everything through the tears of those I love.  I never knew the effects of the torturous lessons of my youth until I brought them to bear myself. 

Yes, I thought I was different than them, that I had risen above their behaviors to be the man they said I would never be.  Boy was I wrong.  I was just like them even as I hated them (and in hating them I was just like them).  I would tease myself as to feign control over a life spiraling out of control.  When I felt threatened, I would seek greater control, often by pretending I was something I was not.  I would react violently.  I would cheat (or pretend to cheat) in order to find a reaction that proved my worth.  I never felt wanted or needed until someone was crying over me with the pain of betrayal.  I betrayed them as I had been betrayed.  I never felt good enough, strong enough, or smart enough.  Man, was I one fucked up individual.

After a long journey walking barefoot on broken glass, red-hot coals, and thorns the size of 9-inch nails (often on the backs of those I love more than life itself), I find myself here alone in a room allowing inspiration to flow through my fingers.  I close my eyes and see my Brown-Eyed girl and know that I worship the ground she walks on, and that no woman can dare come close to the magnificence this woman has achieved.  I could never imagine being with anyone else.  I’ve tried in those moments of intense fear and insecurity, but ultimately through whatever God there may be and whatever voice in my soul shouting reasonableness at the madness I have seen that there is no one who can compare to her in my life.  I have never strayed from this woman, even in moments when that angry little man inside of me wanted to in order to prove that I could.  I would simply close my eyes and see her, and realize that the Universe itself had sent her to me if for no other reason than to save me from myself.

So I am a bore, yet a bore content in knowing that the right path is underfoot regardless of where it takes me. I have a beautiful partner I have failed.  I have failed in not conveying the love she inspires in me.  I have failed in only showing the angry little man to a person so worthy of the real me.  I have failed to not give her the proper place she deserves in our lives.  Through the many trials,  I have found that the angry little man can’t be beaten with anger and meanness.  No, he thrives on those emotions.  That angry little man is beaten by a small boy who loved everything and everyone he ever met.  I can remember him as vividly as I can remember the footsteps that preceded his dormancy.  He was happy and laughed often.  He loved with a passion, shared all he was with a passion, and enjoyed life with a passion.  I know the boy exists whenever I stop to help someone I don’t know (or even someone I do know).  I hear him in my laughter or in the joy I find making others laugh.  I can feel him when I stop eating when I am full.  I can see him in the hand that strokes my Brown-Eyed girl’s face or hair, or in the hand that holds hers as we walk along a path.  I can sense that boy as my children sit on my lap or give me a hug.  He’s there…and he wants OUT.  The angry little man says “let him out and you will suffer as you always have”.  The better part of me replies, “yes, I have always suffered, even in his absence, but now is the time for the suffering to end.  Not just my own but of those who love me.”  See nothing brings pain home more intensely than when you cause it in those you love.  Nothing.

And that is me, a man who has suffered and caused suffering; a man who simply wants it all to end and allow the love that is to flourish.  It may be too late for some, only time will tell.  But in the long view I have of the twisted path that I have journeyed I see that it all has to end for me.  My hands hurt.  I see the scars on my face and knuckles more clearly now than ever.  I see the stretch marks caused by the years of abuse I have leveled against myself.  I feel the aloneness caused by the years of abuse I have leveled against others.  It has to end for me so that it can end for those who want to be close to me.  This isn’t a ploy or a game, it is the END of the game I have been playing since I was 9 years old.  It is the destruction of an angry little man who does not allow the spring to come.  It is the silencing of decades of abuse, half inflicted by others and half inflicted by self.  Others who shared my childhood can continue their fantasy, but for me it all must fade to black.  I am sick of it, I am done with it, I need something better. 

Oddly enough, I always felt that my best inspiration came from periods of intense despair.  Frankly, I knew little else other than intense despair, so I have no basis to understand if this belief is real or not.  If it is true, which I now doubt, then I beg never to feel inspired again.  Somehow though, I believe a new type of inspiration will arise, and that in each moment of joy I will find an intense need to share.  Why?  Because we all could use a little joy, even if it is nothing more than your boy say “you are my bestest Daddy EVER!”, or in having your partner say “I love you” for no reason other than "because".  Those are JOYS, and they are awe inspiring. 

And now that I have all of this off my chest I can simply say…

"FADE TO BLACK"

©2011 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ