Tag Archives: inspiration

Redemption

There’s nothing Fixed that can’t be Broken

Praise Jove, for without them, the Broken
And all the Hope and Possibilities for which they allow
There is nothing Redeemed
There is nothing made New Again

Beam of Sun meet Fall of Rain

Alas, mourn not the absence of the Sol
Rejoice instead for the cool quenching of the Aqua
And the Unbounded Inactivity for which the Downpour allows
For it is that, the Inactivity
And the Idleness, the Nothingness it requires
And the Silence, the Stillness it provides
That allows for the Divinity of the Dreams
To Shine forth Anew
And Redeem the Soul

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The Happily Disgruntled Writer Reflects on Finding His Writing Inspiration

The Happily Disgruntled Writer

#amwriting
#screenplays

 

Get Mellow


 
If I had been given a 14% chance of living to five years after my Lung GVHD diagnosis instead of a 13% chance, I would have then had to call my little self-help book HOW NOT TO DIE: In 14 Easy Steps instead of 13.

And as the additional step to keep one alive, I would have added “Get Mellow,” because I have learned throughout my years that life is stressful — it is even more so when your health fails you. One has to take action to keep it cool or the stress just compounds the damage.

In addition to prayer and meditation, I listened to many different varieties of relaxing music to get and stay mellow. However, once I found this Tibetan Bells video it became The One and Only.

It’s been a while since I’ve listened to it.

But, seeing how the stress levels seem to be rising…

It’s time for me to once again… Get Mellow.

OMMMMM

 

COPING with #CANCER?

coping-quote

Hey! How about that?!

Our good friends over at COPING With Cancer magazine featured an excerpt from my little book HOW NOT TO DIE: In 13 Easy Steps in their recent edition.

Pretty cool, no?

Yes, indeed.

You can learn more about the magazine and all the good folks there doing God’s work here.

You can learn more about my book here.

You can check out the post the book was inspired by here.

And you can learn how I feel about pink as the color of cancer here.

#cancerisjustastateofmind
#peace

 
 

THE PHILOSOPHY OF INSPIRATION | A Relating to Humans Philosophical Issues Feature

THE PHILOSOPHY OF INSPIRATION
by Rana Tarakji

As Kurt explains it on his Welcome page, it is impossible to mingle with other human beings in an entirely pain-free manner. However, there is a difference between pain that aims to makes a person stronger and pain that aims at the opposite or has no aim at all. How can we inspire others without a bit of tough love anyways?

For instance, telling the truth can hurt sometimes, but isn’t it in the favour of the truth-receiver? Doesn’t it enlighten the person with truths that make him or her wiser and allow him/her to be more successful in his/her future life? Perhaps not knowing the truth might keep the person content, however, there’s usually a bigger chance that not knowing the truth can hurt a person in the long run.

What about giving advice? Advice can be tough for some people to swallow. They might not want to hear what you want to say to them, even if it makes perfect sense. A lot of people prefer not to get involved in other people’s decisions and not to offer their advice if it stands against the other person’s beliefs. But does staying quiet in critical times help that person? No, it doesn’t.

Celebrities are often looked up to because they have usually gone through a lot of ups and downs and tough times to get where they are in their lives. It’s never an easy thing to become well-known, respected and adored by millions. And sometimes, simple but wise words from these inspirational people can motivate us to make small changes in our lives, to the better. The following infographic lists some of the top inspirational celebrity quotes by life coach spotter that will leave you inspired:
 

CLICK TO ENLARGE

lifecoachspotter.com

 


 
Learn more about our open-submissions Relating to Humans feature here.

 
 

NYX – A Short Story by Stephanie Buosi

What is it about the way that some words can be arranged and aligned in such a way that they can take us to places we’ve never been before?

Who knows, right? I’m just thankful that it happens at all.

All I know is that when I read Stephanie’s story it moved me in ways I couldn’t explain. Maybe it was the way she described the setting…the beach, the waves, the bonfire. I could almost feel the pull of the moon.

I grew up on Lake Erie and there was a time long, long ago that I could have been one of those mindless teenagers out there running around in the sand, mindless of life that lay before me. Annoying those who already know all too well.

Yeah, I don’t know why it is that Stephanie’s stories moves me the way it does…

I’m just glad it does.

Thank you, Stephanie, for sending me your sad yet magical and wonderfully titled story of inspiration.

In Spirit…


 

Stephanie Buosi
 

NYX
by Stephanie Buosi

Silly little girls are dancing in bikinis. Their boys chase them around a bonfire on the beach. The waves lap at their heels and mine, although I am neither silly nor wearing a bikini. I hear their laughter as an insult. They play with the night and use the darkness in their game of cat and mouse. I skulk around them unnoticed and am easily on my way.

Perhaps I should have joined in their games. But I walk in a dream, and am afraid of feeling joy only to wake up again.

I told no one.

In a sense, I suppose you could say I ran away. But you can’t tell the people who are the fabric of your life of your decision to quit your home, your job, your life, and head to the beach. You are also a part of the fabric of their lives, and they would never let you go willingly; there would at least be one round of guilt. No. It is always best to just slip away.

I went to the beach because you never took me to the beach. When I press my toes into the white sand the only imprint is mine. You are nowhere near this beach, so I can breathe a little easier.

I could still smell you back in the home I quit. On the bed, against the wall, on the kitchen counter pressed against the granite… you were still there. That was why I sold the house. It now legally belongs to Mr. and Mrs. Collins, respectively. They were a nice couple, yet I still wanted to spit in their faces when they agreed to the price. Why so little? Couldn’t they see what I was giving up?

You were a part of my shadow. You knew my darkness, and relished the bad with the good. You knew I was a bit of everything, and loved to touch it all. Now no one can touch me and you made sure of this. Perhaps I let you have too much. Every night, as I walk home, I remember this and let myself fall on the sand. I sink like a stone thrown in water. This is another reason why I chose the beach; sand is much softer than concrete, and my knees no longer hurt when they smack the ground.

I am playing such a strange role. Who knew I could be so powerful as to be untouchable? I am now a league onto my own, possessing of something no one else will know. Because how can they know? You were my shadow alone.

I have to skip around starfish on my walk home. Every night they are pushed by the waves to their deaths, and leave behind beautiful concrete memories of their lives. The locals collect them in wicker baskets and sell them to ambivalent tourists during the day. Their bodies are treasured, and they become something more than star-shaped predators belonging to the class Asteroidea.

You. Homo sapiens. Workaholic. Wonderful fingers. Belonging to me. Once. And now you belong to the God you worshiped, and I can only touch you through sleep, shadow, or imagination. I hope you are aware that you are challenging my sanity. Are you happy?

I wore a mask at the funeral. I wore a mask so others would not be frightened of me. You wouldn’t have recognized me. I was all dolled up, but felt so cold. People spoke to me and all I could do was smile. But at least with a mask on they had the courage to try. You were right there but so far away. I couldn’t have touched you even if I tried.

The beach is usually deserted at night. Most are afraid to venture beyond the reach of a streetlight. They stay on the boardwalk with drinks in their hands and listen to loud music to drown the call of gently crashing waves. They are afraid of the loneliness, I think. The ocean is a siren that provokes thoughts most would rather hide behind dirty martinis.

But there is freedom in the dark. I can be me: powerful and untouchable as I ache for you.

The girls and boys are now disembodied voices drifting along the sea breeze, and their bonfire now a candle against an inky sky. Life once again feels like a dream. Colorless, the world holds the potential for green skies or purple sand. Whatever I imagine the world to be I can paint it over the black of night. Perhaps I can paint you beside me?

Putting one step in front of the other is not a hard thing to do. I do that every night. I put one foot in front of the other and hope that my steps will bring me to a place of peace. I hope to find a place where I can feel okay without you.

I know it will come. Night cannot exist without day.


stephaniebuosi.wordpress.com

 
 

Thank You All For The Inspiration

I asked for your help and you all responded in kind…and in kindness. Thanks so very much to all of you who took the time to send me some inspiration by way of your very own personal literary creations. I am no longer lacking in inspiration, that is for sure.

Funny though, instead of inspiring me to dig back into my short story collection, it led me back to my dystopian saga via Wattpad. I will still be working on the story collection; however, right now I am kinda stoked to be working on part two of Hercules Gone Mad.

Again, thank you all. I was really quite surprised by how many submission I received. I enjoyed reading them all. I will confess, though, that I did not read any of the submissions that were just links to websites.

Sorry about that.

I will post the story that I found most inspiring and creative immediately after I post this message of thanks. But before I do, I would like to single out two stories that were also very inspiring to me. I strongly urge you to visit the authors’ sites and see what interesting and inspiring things they have going on there.


Foul Play
by Lee Balan


The Conscious Coward
by Vic Smith


Write on!