Points Of Light, I'd previously posted this story in Facebook, but, I revisited it so I could repost it today. Why? Because as I said on Facebook - Thought I'd revisit an old story because my mind needed his own words to look at him and smile.
You see, I tried writing something beautiful earlier tonight on Facebook, but none of my words were real. Neither were they honest or sincere. My heart didn't divulge anything to me, so I tried to force some words I thought would be meaningful, and sure, my head's aware of my hearts desires so I tried writing out those desires, but the more I wrote I saw my fakeness staring back and mocking me. This didn't feel good so I deleted every word.
So, never forget how I've told you Points Of Light I'll always be honest with you just like my written words always have to be honest. With this in mind, I'm always going to ask you that when you write, please try to write only after you've searched your heart for what you're feeling, then take that feeling and write whatever it is then fearlessly write those words wherever they fall.
As you read this little story there's nothing written in it meant to make you sad (this blog is about light, color, and beauty after all). Read it with the understanding it's about a previously broken man who's come to realize he can and he has given up his Gravity for the Light of Amazing Grace. Read it with that understanding to the very end, then experience with him the very thing his old friend Sting has told him he experiences, then smile. You might have to think just a tiny bit, but if you're up to it- Start Reading!
As I listened to this Sting song - "Fields Of Gold", it was as if I heard an old friend talk to me about something he had a chance to experience which seemed wonderfully surprising, meaningful, and very real to him. To me, it seemed this chance happened to him just for his living. About that experience, he couldn't wait to tell me how he knew he'd always hold on to it. He also told that he'd work to experience it over and over again and how he'd always be glad for it, allowing his smile to show his happiness with each experience. When my old friend told me, "So she took her love for to gaze awhile upon the fields of barley. In his arms she fell as her hair came down among the fields of gold", I couldn't help but feel with him his excellent happiness, almost like we were experiencing it together, both in our past but also for the first time. It's a funny thing that happened as I listened to my friend. I just allowed that that's an experience some men are allowed to have just because. It doesn't matter what that "just" refers back to, it just is and it belongs only to those men. I acquiesced to the realization that what he held in his heart, he held because beauty happened to him in the realm of warm flesh and blood and that for me, I'll always hold that same kind of experience in my mind, in the realm of words, a narrative of a tiny two-paragraph story. I felt a contentment in this revelation. Somehow, somewhere in my story, my mind can experience a lesser form of his when he told me, "See the west wind move like a lover so upon the fields of barley. Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth among the fields of gold". My story will read another way, with other words of less clarity of beauty, but the story in my mind will tell something as nice. So just as my friend will feel the warm sun in some jealous sky somewhere as he presses against and feels the warmth of someone, my mind can reveal to me the same, over and over again, even when many years pass. And I'll never despise my old friend his experience, rather I'll feel happy for him and his. But life isn't simple and it can't be simply understood, let alone explained in a two-paragraph story. Beyond my mind's story, out here under that same sun, I can imagine the sky being very jealous as I live life and get to experience seeing "the children run as the sun goes down among the fields of gold." Life is interesting indeed! Insert smile here.
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