Category: writing
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My favorite place to go in my town isn’t actually in the town at all. It sits above it, high in the mountains, at a place called Aspen Vista. It’s beautiful in every season, but in the fall it becomes something otherworldly. People come from far and wide to see the aspens as their leaves…
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Moments of peace come through, soft and gentle as moonlight. Allowing me to return home to myself. After such a long and arduous journey of drug withdrawal, these moments are like being embraced by gentleness itself. Life in these moments is so very precious, moments stretched into eternity. Knowing, finally, that I am beloved, as are all other…
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I don’t usually join the daily writing prompts, but this one speaks directly to my heart. Because the truth is simple… A place of breathtaking beauty, and for me, a place of profound healing. Right here where I have lived for the last 5 years. I’ll be 60 years old in a few months. For…
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I was going to wait until the actual ten month anniversary (in three days) of being free from benzos, but I want to say this now. I need to say it now. I have the best family and extended family anyone could hope for. They’ve seen me through withdrawals, through fear and pain, and they…
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I am healing,I can feel things I’ve never felt before!The mountain forests and the ravens are more than just trees and birds. They are reminders and messengersthat we are all a part of something larger.We are all parts of the web of life. I couldn’t articulate this before,with my spirit clouded with drugs.But now I am…
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I fought through darkness of terror and pain,and I survived because of love. I rode through the storms like Thunor,and screamed as I gained hard-won wisdom like Woden,as I fought through the blackest halls where shadows whispered lies. It was the love of my wife and sons that saw me through,when I was in darkness…
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For so long I drifted in a darkness deeper than any seaDespair stuck to me like a cold chill, whispering that I would never be free.Hope, then a fragile ember, had dimmed to ash,and ancient demons, hungry mouthed and hollow eyed,fed on the marrow of my spirit. Then the mountains called.We came to this high…
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In my early life, I was, like many others, taught that the soul was a single thing, and that it would either be saved or damned forever depending on what I believed. That old teaching still leaves traces in my mind sometimes. It shows up as fear and dread, as a sense that I must…
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This is the most open I’ve ever been in my public writing, so please forgive me if it runs long. I write because it’s the clearest way I know to speak from my inner world. Sometimes the only way I can express what I feel is through poetry. Other times, like now, I need plain…
Whispering Wyrd 