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#inner-life — Public Fediverse posts

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  1. Mornings of Obscurity

    I awake from a strange night of vigilance to a day filled with the white trappings of fog.

    Within me, however, there is clarity.

    Often the outer landscape informs the inner, though they are not always alike. The meteorology of the soul follows different laws. A clear morning may find me lost within myself, while a world hidden beneath fog may awaken in me some unexpected certainty.

    Still, there is always a lesson to be learned, if I can stay aware enough to be educated.

    There is a kind of safety in what is hidden.

    Fog softens the distances. It removes the horizon. It asks nothing of me beyond the next few steps. Things ordinarily exposed become mercifully indistinct. Roads disappear into the pale. Houses, trees, the fauna of everyday, become shadows.

    I need such mornings.

    Perhaps there are times when obscurity is not confusion but a refuge, when I am protected from seeing everything at once.

    I think of the bathroom mirror after a shower.

    I emerge from the steam and reach for the towel, and there I am—or ought to be—but the reflection is incomplete. I am there somewhere beneath the white film. I can make out a shape, a suggestion of myself, but not the familiar arrangement by which I reassure myself that I am still who I was before I stepped beneath the spray.

    For a moment I am only a blurred presence.

    There is mercy in that too.

    I spend so much of my life asking the world to return an image of myself: Who am I here? How do I appear? What has become of me? Yet sometimes the glass clouds over and will not answer.

    I can wipe it clean with my hand or a towel, of course.

    But then there is only a small clearing in the mist—a smeared oval through which one eye looks back at me while the rest of me remains unseen.

    A partial revelation.

    Enough to know that I am there.

    Yet not enough to see the whole.

    And there are other moments of obscurity.

    I step from the bitter cold of winter into a warm building, and my glasses immediately cloud over. Or I leave an air-conditioned room and enter the heavy heat of summer. The lenses upon which I depend for clarity suddenly become the very instruments of my blindness.

    I have crossed a threshold too quickly.

    For several seconds the world disappears.

    I know it has not vanished. I know there is a floor beneath me, furniture nearby, perhaps another person approaching. But knowledge and sight are not always the same thing.

    So I stop.

    Or slow.

    Or remove the glasses and wait.

    There is something almost sacred about that small helplessness.

    The instrument meant to help me see must temporarily be surrendered before sight can return.

    Perhaps there are thresholds of the spirit like this.

    I cross from grief into joy, certainty into doubt, solitude into community, one season of life into another, and discover that the ways I have learned to see no longer work immediately on the other side.

    My lenses fog.

    My familiar interpretations become opaque.

    For a moment I am blinded not because there is nothing to see, but because I have entered another atmosphere.

    And perhaps wisdom is learning not to panic in that interval.

    The landscape remains.

    The self remains.

    The world remains.

    I simply cannot see it clearly yet.

    But one cannot remain forever in obscurity.

    The sun will rise.

    The fog will burn away.

    The steam will leave the mirror.

    The lenses will clear.

    And what has always been there will slowly be revealed—not created by the light, only uncovered by it.

    The hills were there.

    The road was there.

    The distant trees were there.

    The face in the mirror was there.

    The room beyond the clouded lenses was there.

    What frightened me was there.

    What called to me was there.

    Perhaps this is the discipline of such mornings: to receive the hidden without mistaking it for absence, and to receive revelation without imagining that revelation has suddenly made the world new.

    To understand that obscurity is sometimes a condition of crossing.

    That there are moments when not seeing is not the same as being lost.

    That clarity may exist within me even while everything around me is veiled.

    And that sometimes the wisest thing I can do is stand for a moment at the threshold, blinded by my own lenses, trusting the world is still there.

    Sometimes clarity arrives before the landscape clears.

    Sometimes I must learn to walk while the world is still blurred around me.

    #Awareness #Blindness #clarity #ContemplativeWriting #eerieIllustration #fog #foggedGlasses #hiddenness #innerLife #mirror #morningMeditation #mystery #Obscurity #photorealisticArt #poeticProse #Revelation #showerSteam #SpiritualReflection #thresholds #transition
  2. medium.com/the-writers-reach/w

    Your inner story shapes your voice, choices, and creative direction.

    A personal myth is the inner story a writer uses to make sense of their creative life. It gives direction, meaning, and emotional coherence.

    #personalmythology #myths #writingcommunity #medium #writer #InnerLife

  3. medium.com/the-writers-reach/w

    Your inner story shapes your voice, choices, and creative direction.

    A personal myth is the inner story a writer uses to make sense of their creative life. It gives direction, meaning, and emotional coherence.

    #personalmythology #myths #writingcommunity #medium #writer #InnerLife

  4. WildWords – Lord of the Flies

    The flies come first
    as rumor,

    black letters of punctuation
    in the cellar air,

    small restless witnesses
    to what I have not buried.

    They find the hidden place
    before I do,

    the sweetness gone sour,
    the secret body
    given back to its elements.

    I thought death
    would announce itself
    with trumpets,

    or thunder,

    or at least
    a proper lament.

    But here it is
    in wings,

    in the frantic scripture
    of a thousand tiny bodies

    writing circles
    around the bulb.

    Lord of the flies,
    lord of the unclean corners,
    lord of what ripens
    when I refuse to look,

    you do not create the death.

    You only reveal it.

    You rise from the wound
    and make it audible.

    You gather
    where something has ended
    and been left unnamed.

    So I stand in the basement
    with paper strips hanging
    like sad yellow prayers,

    with poison in the air,
    with a broom in my hand,

    and I know
    this is not only about flies.

    Something in me
    has also gone untended.

    Some old grief
    has softened in the dark.

    Some resentment
    has been born in bitter warmth.

    Some fear
    has bred in the damp boxes
    of the soul.

    And the outer world,
    faithful as a mirror,
    begins to reflect what is within.

    The dead thing calls forth wings.

    The buried thing
    becomes a cloud.

    Lord above,
    but Lord beneath even this,

    teach me to descend
    without disgust,

    to find what has died,
    to name it,
    to remove it,

    to open the window
    where I can,

    to let the clean wind
    do its slow ministry.

    For even the fly
    is a witness,

    even decay
    is a kind of bell,

    even infestation
    can become annunciation

    if it leads me
    to the hidden corpse,

    if it leads me
    to the truth,

    if it leads me
    at last

    to bury what is dead
    and bless what still
    wants to live.

    #basement #basementSymbolism #cleansing #compoundEye #Contemplation #ContemplativePoetry #deadThings #Death #decay #dying #flies #flyVision #gothicReflection #grief #hiddenThings #infestation #innerLife #lordOfTheFlies #Mortality #natureOfDecay #outerWorld #PrayerPoem #renewal #shadowWork #SpiritualReflection #symbolicIllustration #witness
  5. WildWords – Lord of the Flies

    The flies come first
    as rumor,

    black letters of punctuation
    in the cellar air,

    small restless witnesses
    to what I have not buried.

    They find the hidden place
    before I do,

    the sweetness gone sour,
    the secret body
    given back to its elements.

    I thought death
    would announce itself
    with trumpets,

    or thunder,

    or at least
    a proper lament.

    But here it is
    in wings,

    in the frantic scripture
    of a thousand tiny bodies

    writing circles
    around the bulb.

    Lord of the flies,
    lord of the unclean corners,
    lord of what ripens
    when I refuse to look,

    you do not create the death.

    You only reveal it.

    You rise from the wound
    and make it audible.

    You gather
    where something has ended
    and been left unnamed.

    So I stand in the basement
    with paper strips hanging
    like sad yellow prayers,

    with poison in the air,
    with a broom in my hand,

    and I know
    this is not only about flies.

    Something in me
    has also gone untended.

    Some old grief
    has softened in the dark.

    Some resentment
    has been born in bitter warmth.

    Some fear
    has bred in the damp boxes
    of the soul.

    And the outer world,
    faithful as a mirror,
    begins to reflect what is within.

    The dead thing calls forth wings.

    The buried thing
    becomes a cloud.

    Lord above,
    but Lord beneath even this,

    teach me to descend
    without disgust,

    to find what has died,
    to name it,
    to remove it,

    to open the window
    where I can,

    to let the clean wind
    do its slow ministry.

    For even the fly
    is a witness,

    even decay
    is a kind of bell,

    even infestation
    can become annunciation

    if it leads me
    to the hidden corpse,

    if it leads me
    to the truth,

    if it leads me
    at last

    to bury what is dead
    and bless what still
    wants to live.

    #basement #basementSymbolism #cleansing #compoundEye #Contemplation #ContemplativePoetry #deadThings #Death #decay #dying #flies #flyVision #gothicReflection #grief #hiddenThings #infestation #innerLife #lordOfTheFlies #Mortality #natureOfDecay #outerWorld #PrayerPoem #renewal #shadowWork #SpiritualReflection #symbolicIllustration #witness
  6. What is the Meaning of Life? 5/10
There’s a name for the quiet emptiness: acedia.
Not despair—just a dullness of the soul.
A life that looks complete, but feels disconnected. 🌫️
#Acedia #EmotionalHealth #InnerLife

  7. Time squeezed sharp "And yet it moves..." Nothing like a deadline to inspire clarity #writing #innerlife random writes from last saturday...

  8. Time squeezed sharp "And yet it moves..." Nothing like a deadline to inspire clarity #writing #innerlife random writes from last saturday...

  9. Time squeezed sharp "And yet it moves..." Nothing like a deadline to inspire clarity #writing #innerlife random writes from last saturday...

  10. Directed an #acting #coaching client to do a very specific thing for a take, and we learned the direction was way outside the bounds of the material, which clarified, somehow concretely, an inner layer that was not what we had thought it was. Then we discovered new pieces we hadn't found before.

    #ActingCoach #ActingCoaching #actors #InnerLife

  11. Directed an #acting #coaching client to do a very specific thing for a take, and we learned the direction was way outside the bounds of the material, which clarified, somehow concretely, an inner layer that was not what we had thought it was. Then we discovered new pieces we hadn't found before.

    #ActingCoach #ActingCoaching #actors #InnerLife

  12. Directed an #acting #coaching client to do a very specific thing for a take, and we learned the direction was way outside the bounds of the material, which clarified, somehow concretely, an inner layer that was not what we had thought it was. Then we discovered new pieces we hadn't found before.

    #ActingCoach #ActingCoaching #actors #InnerLife

  13. Directed an #acting #coaching client to do a very specific thing for a take, and we learned the direction was way outside the bounds of the material, which clarified, somehow concretely, an inner layer that was not what we had thought it was. Then we discovered new pieces we hadn't found before.

    #ActingCoach #ActingCoaching #actors #InnerLife

  14. Directed an #acting #coaching client to do a very specific thing for a take, and we learned the direction was way outside the bounds of the material, which clarified, somehow concretely, an inner layer that was not what we had thought it was. Then we discovered new pieces we hadn't found before.

    #ActingCoach #ActingCoaching #actors #InnerLife

  15. Courage of Joy 4/10
The armor is obvious at first. Later it becomes heavier—and harder to detect. Masks. Strategies. Shields. They promise protection, but they suffocate us. 🧱
#HiddenDefenses #EmotionalWeight #InnerLife

  16. What if the reason comfort feels empty is because meaning requires responsibility?
    The latest podcast episode explores why usefulness, structure, and service often matter more than freedom alone. open.spotify.com/episode/0OpKq
    #PodcastDrop #Purpose #InnerLife #DepthThinking #HumanNature #Emberhart #VictorFrankl #Logotherapy

  17. Cafh: Let’s always remember that, no matter how broad our knowledge, and how accurate our judgments, there is always something we don’t know and that could overturn or reverse our view of things.
    Recordemos siempre que, por más amplio que sea nuestro conocimiento y acertados nuestros juicios, siempre hay algo que no conocemos y que podría trastocar o revertir nuestra visión de las cosas.

    #cafhglobal.com #cafh.org #meditation #introspection #innerlife

    Image by Jürg Wiederkehr from Pixabay

  18. Cafh: Let’s always remember that, no matter how broad our knowledge, and how accurate our judgments, there is always something we don’t know and that could overturn or reverse our view of things.
    Recordemos siempre que, por más amplio que sea nuestro conocimiento y acertados nuestros juicios, siempre hay algo que no conocemos y que podría trastocar o revertir nuestra visión de las cosas.

    #cafhglobal.com #cafh.org #meditation #introspection #innerlife

    Image by Jürg Wiederkehr from Pixabay

  19. Cafh: Let’s always remember that, no matter how broad our knowledge, and how accurate our judgments, there is always something we don’t know and that could overturn or reverse our view of things.
    Recordemos siempre que, por más amplio que sea nuestro conocimiento y acertados nuestros juicios, siempre hay algo que no conocemos y que podría trastocar o revertir nuestra visión de las cosas.

    #cafhglobal.com #cafh.org #meditation #introspection #innerlife

    Image by Jürg Wiederkehr from Pixabay

  20. Cafh: Let’s always remember that, no matter how broad our knowledge, and how accurate our judgments, there is always something we don’t know and that could overturn or reverse our view of things.
    Recordemos siempre que, por más amplio que sea nuestro conocimiento y acertados nuestros juicios, siempre hay algo que no conocemos y que podría trastocar o revertir nuestra visión de las cosas.

    #cafhglobal.com #cafh.org #meditation #introspection #innerlife

    Image by Jürg Wiederkehr from Pixabay

  21. The problem with political correctness is that if you want to be correct than you have to deal with your feelings.

    Many people don't want to do that.

    They want to go on assuming this one is a friend and this one is an enemy according to superficial outer markers.

    They don't want to her the tone that suggest contempt

    and most of all they want to believe that they are running their life's and not something inside that they don't even understand.

    Terrible thought
    makes them feel weak

    but these people who hate political correctness or wokeness
    they love power more than anything

    that's how they grew up

    sucking up to people who hold power

    that's their personality

    no wonder wokeness is a problem for them

    who wants to change ones Modus Vivendi?

    #wokeness #InnerLife #culturewars

  22. The problem with political correctness is that if you want to be correct than you have to deal with your feelings.

    Many people don't want to do that.

    They want to go on assuming this one is a friend and this one is an enemy according to superficial outer markers.

    They don't want to her the tone that suggest contempt

    and most of all they want to believe that they are running their life's and not something inside that they don't even understand.

    Terrible thought
    makes them feel weak

    but these people who hate political correctness or wokeness
    they love power more than anything

    that's how they grew up

    sucking up to people who hold power

    that's their personality

    no wonder wokeness is a problem for them

    who wants to change ones Modus Vivendi?

    #wokeness #InnerLife #culturewars

  23. 🇺🇦 #NowPlaying on #BBC6Music's #LoudAndProud

    Inner Life:
    🎵 I'm Caught Up (In a One Night Love Affair)

    #InnerLife

    djaloneagain.bandcamp.com/trac

    Please 🔁 BOOST to share what you like
    - your followers don't see if you ⭐ favourite a post

  24. 🇺🇦 #NowPlaying on #BBC6Music's #LoudAndProud

    Inner Life:
    🎵 I'm Caught Up (In a One Night Love Affair)

    #InnerLife

    djaloneagain.bandcamp.com/trac

    Please 🔁 BOOST to share what you like
    - your followers don't see if you ⭐ favourite a post

  25. 🇺🇦 #NowPlaying on #BBC6Music's #LoudAndProud

    Inner Life:
    🎵 I'm Caught Up (In a One Night Love Affair)

    #InnerLife

    djaloneagain.bandcamp.com/trac

    Please 🔁 BOOST to share what you like
    - your followers don't see if you ⭐ favourite a post

  26. 🇺🇦 #NowPlaying on #BBC6Music's #LoudAndProud

    Inner Life:
    🎵 I'm Caught Up (In a One Night Love Affair)

    #InnerLife

    djaloneagain.bandcamp.com/trac

    Please 🔁 BOOST to share what you like
    - your followers don't see if you ⭐ favourite a post

  27. Glance at phone in dark. Oh, 30m before alarm. Calm, quiet.

    Phone under pillow, close eyes, doze.

    Wake to alarm, roll gently out of bed, stand naked, leaning heavily over night table, nose snozzle off, machine off, slowly stand upright.

    Jenga blocks. Spine upright. Stand silent in dark. Run hands over head, shoulders, sides, belly.

    Nothing sensuous in this, just...

    "I am. I am alive. Me. I am a body intact. Still alive. Another day. Alive."

    Then I go get ready for work.

    #InnerLife