So you can read my books

Wednesday, February 2, 2011


Your unconscious speaks to you all the time.

Usually, the din of our present moment drowns it out. Usually.

But the unconscious is a tricky little bugger.

As I was driving today in the blinding rains,

courtesy of this terrible winter storm brutalizing the whole country,

a car darted recklessly in front of me. I drive as if everyone around me is suicidal and moronic --

so there was no accident.

Through the blurred windshield, I spotted the bumper sticker on it.


When the windshield wipers sqeaked me a clear view, my impression wasn't even close to the true words of the sticker.

Don't ask. Just content yourself with the fact that it matched perfectly the mindset of a suicidal moron.

But it got me to thinking as I drove home. My unconscious mind was right.

Life is a circle of seasons. No winter stays forever. No summer is endless. Trauma will end. Healing will begin. And no joy lasts forever.

My blog friends email me :

some are struggling in the middle of their novels;

some are just trying to overcome the inertia of pushing the beginning of their narrative over that first hill;

while others are brooding about revisions : where to prune, where to further illuminate.

Whatever season you find yourself struggling in, know that with the trials,

there are also pleasures involved with each season. Both blessings and blights have expiration dates.

Life is both less and more than you may think.

It is a fragile tangle of perceptions that exist in a fleeting moment in time.

This moment.

See? It is already gone : that moment when your eyes first spied the title over my post.

And that is something my half-Lakota mother taught me as we looked out over Lake Michigan at a frosty sunset while she spun me tales of the Twilight of the Gods, and what it meant to be courageous.

Suddenly, she turned to me and said : "Breathe each breath, little one. No two are the same. Remember the colors that paint this sky. Remember me, little one. Remember, and this sunset ... and I ... we will never leave you. Never."

At lunch today I read a few poems of Emily Dickinson. Writing of that sunset from so long ago has reminded me of her "Blazing in Gold." Here is a snippet :

"Blazing in gold and quenching in purple,
Leaping like leopards to the sky,
Then at the feet of the old horizon
Laying her spotted face to die…."

Another favorite comes from Christina Georgina Rossetti's "From Sunset To Star Rise" :

"I live alone, I look to die alone:
Yet sometimes, when a wind sighs through the sedge,
Ghosts of my buried years and friends come back,
My heart goes sighing after swallows flown
On sometime summer's unreturning track."

We write our tales, spinning them of the silk of our imagination and perceptions. We sail the dark seas of longing and desire ... to be published? No. I think we sail for a shore other than the need to be heard. No, we sail upon the Sea of Dreams to connect to others of like spirit out in the darkness.

That is why we sail upon uncertain seas to tell our stories ... to reach another heart like ours: hurting, hoping, and helping. That is a star worthy of charting our course by.

What did John Masefield write?

I must go down to the sea again,
to the lonely sea and sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship

And a star to steer by.


  1. This post was so needed for me today. It was almost like you were speaking to me personally. Thank you, Roland.

    As you know I've had a rough few days and this makes me realize you are right. Winter is half over and spring will be in the air soon. A rebirth is always good. I was born in the middle of spring so I always recharge during this time.

    Great post...


  2. Michael : I'm so happy my post helped you in some small way. Storms hit us unexpectedly, spinning us around 180 degrees from where we were headed.

    My mother's wisdom often sees me through if I remember to think back on her lessons. All of life is a circle of seasons, none lasting forever. She asked me to endure the winter bravely and savor the summer while I could.

    I feel the breath of better times is headed your way. Hang in there. And stay warm during this winter storm! Roland

  3. You seeing what you needed to see through the blurred windshield is telling. I think it says something about your heart.

  4. Thanks, Wendy, that is nice of you to say. I pray this winter storm treats you well. Roland

  5. You have a very wise subconcious.

    We actually have a saying with a similar meaning in my mother tongue: Tomorrow, the sun shines again.

    No matter how dark things look, they are bound to improve at some point.

    The poetry you quoted made my day though.


  6. inner self is speaking to me at this very moment..."it's too damn cold! Pack the kids...start driving until we see the sun! Now! Let's go already!"

    Well said, Roland:) And your mother sounds wonderful.


  7. My spring will be the day that I feel like writing again.
    Suicidal morons - apt description! Need to add the words 'with cellphones.'

  8. What an inspiring, heart warming, true connectible post, Roland. You read my inner being. "This too shall pass." I'm thinking seriously of having that tattooed on me, seems to be my lifelong motto. :)
    Jules @ Trying To Get Over The Rainbow

  9. Misha : Now, if I could only shove some of that wisdom into my conscious mind, I'd have a better time of it! I'm really glad you liked my poetry selections. Have a healing day, Roland

    Elliot : The roads here are no place to be right now. I hope the sun finds you soon. Have a warmer day. Thanks for visiting and commenting. Always good to see you here.

    Diane : I pray that your spring with the desire to write again dawns for you very, very soon. Folks with cellphones always seem to swerve right into my line, and they don't even notice, driving right along. Brrrr. Have a healing day today.

    Jules : As long as it is written on your heart, life will be less dark, right? Thank you so much for the very kind words. It meant so much to wake up to them this morning, Roland

  10. Here's the mantra I am using right now to get through: Even in the winter, the sunset is beautiful.

  11. A very thoughtful post.
    And poetic too...

    "Both blessings and blights have expiration dates"

    Have a good day and drive safely... but you know already. Take care.

  12. Great point! We have to listen to our subconscious. As children we're usually taught to ignore it and write it off as superstition. But imagine if we encouraged and cultivated it...

  13. This is so true, Roland. Thank you for the reminder. As Wendy wrote, you saw what you needed to see through that windshield to help get you to your next spring and maybe give us a little push in the right direction, too. The subconscious is an amazing thing, isn't it? Our potential as human beings is limitless if we're not afraid to face it.

    That said, there does seem to be an abundance of suicidal and moronic drivers in S. Louisiana. :)

  14. A beautiful post, Roland--I love the circular nature of things--and I love the message from your mother... if we remember, they never leave us. Such a great argument for embracing and remembering the good and letting go the bad. I am still madly revising... but I will get back to the writing I love again soon... and maybe this painful winter of revision will lead to a spring of display, followed by a summer of publishing...

  15. Wonderful post, and I love the quotes.

  16. Thanks, Golden Eagle. I loved those selections as well.

    Hart : I hope this revision winter isn't too painful and your writing spring and publication summer are sizzling in the best possible ways.

    VR : Yes, the number of suicidal and homicidal drivers that pass me daily chill my blood. I am so happy you liked this post. Yours always make my day.

    Heather : You're right : we brush and comb the heads of our children free of the murmurings of their instincts and dreams. And we wonder why adults are so often cold-blooded. Life is funny in a sad way sometimes.

    Thanks, Imagery Imagined. I pray this winter blast is not chilling you too much!

    Liza, your mantra is beautiful ... and wise. Have a lovely, warm Friday, Roland

  17. Hi Roland .. I'm pleased you at least were aware of what else was going on on the road .. people just don't think .. and don't think of others.

    I love the Masefield quote ... one of the few I remember ..

    Cheers and hope the storms are easing .. Hilary