Tag Archives: love

get yourself free

~

you reach the end of day

just wishing you could fly away

from people, places and possessions

but as happens with all commitments

you can find yourself caught in such a trap

you get so used to it you can’t find your way back

just assert yourself and hope they won’t all desert you

you know when you are not yourself every day just hurts

~

jack collier

jackcollier7@talktalk.net

 

Everybody Hurts Sometimes

Every now and then even a strong man cries.

~

May I walk happily, and may it be beautiful before me.

May it be beautiful behind me, happy and and beautiful below.

May it be beautiful above me and may beauty be all around my heart.

In beauty I cry and wonder,  and in beauty there is both my sadness and joy.

Navajo Prayer.

~

~

jack collier

jackcollier7@talktalk.net

Sea of Sorrow

~

Drinking from the waters of sorrow

sustains a different kind of life.

This sea is hidden from the rest of the world.

Tears drip of my chin and fall

into an endless flow of liquid love.

This silent sea sparkles with beauty. 

~

from Todd Nigro

jack collier

jackcollier7@talktalk.net

neither dead nor really alive

Death is not the greatest loss in Life.

Watching my Dad dying in a nursing home bed made me realise something today.  That modern death is seldom like a light switch.  My Dad wasn’t the vital, elderly gentleman he was just a week ago, and then suddenly dead.  For my Dad death is coming slowly.  He is dying one little piece at a time.

The part of his mind that remains must know this, and I believe that is why he is sometimes very distressed.  He keeps calling to my late mother and his dead sister, (my late aunt), and I have never heard him do that before.

I don’t believe that he is in much physical pain, because the doctors haven’t yet given him morphine.  However, physically, mentally, and spiritually my Dad is suffering greatly.  He has no dignity at all.

A part of me hopes it will be over soon, and that feeling of wanting my father to pass on quickly gives me much pause for thought.  I’m not certain if wanting my father to die swiftly and with dignity makes me evil, or caring.

I have no answers or wider lessons to impart on the modern process of dying.

However, I have learned something important about how to live.

Live life to the full, make your decisions and stick by them, never compromise, and never settle for second best or the easy option.

Death is not the greatest loss in life.  The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.  ~  Norman Cousins

Some said that I was a very all-or-nothing guy before, and that I would not live in shades of grey.  All I know is that those people ain’t seen nothing yet.

~

jack collier

jackcollier7@talktalk.net

death changes everything

From Brutality Beauty May Arise.

It’s strange for me to realise that deception, deceit, and dishonesty have been swept from what remains of my life.  It happened in an heartbeat.

Yesterday I visited my dying father in his nursing home.  I have never seen the face of a living person look so horrific.  All I can compare him to are the bare survivors of a Nazi Death Camp.  There was nothing nice, caring, or spiritual about the instant experience.  There was the bare husk of a man in an hospital bed, and nothing passed between us.  I don’t even know if he was aware of my existence.

I tried to read from the poetry of Rudyard Kipling, just to let him hear my voice.  I am uncertain if I am proud or ashamed that I was too choked to read more than a verse or two.

What happened to me?  A lifetime was swept away.  All the compromises, illusions, disillusionments, self-deceptions, and self-loathing were picked up and turned to a fine dust that was blown away in a dying man’s hoarse breath.  What was left to me was the very essence of a man, and I am that man.

This was not what I expected or wanted.

I will be there when my father dies, maybe in a day or so, or maybe between 0100 and 0200 on Wednesday.  As he passes I will celebrate his life and his dying.  Unless something passes between us in his last moments, I will not understand the change in me.

How can a man ever understand the fire, the hammer, and the anvil from which the core of steel in his soul has emerged?

Please understand that I am happy  it took the horrific face of my dying father to reveal the true man within my soul.

~

jack collier

jackcollier7@talktalk.net

wistful musings

~

it’s so quiet in the old ruins

of my mind silent in synchronicity

with cadenced surf counting serendipitous

judgements while each step I take and every breath

whispers as the cold sea measures love’s lost soulfulness

~

words and pictures by jack collier

jackcollier7@talktalk.net

 

little star

~

solitary hopefulness in the midst of blackness

do not condemn me to Stygian darkness

lonely abandonment in unhappiness

shine over me with watchfulness

care for me in mindfulness

lift my hopelessness

my shining star

~

words and pictures by jack collier

jackcollier7@talktalk.net

Scenes on Sunday ~ Cruel Sea

~

hard reflective winter mirror

no acceptance nor understanding

presaging her cold bitterness

~

~

~

~

~

~

words and pictures by jack collier

jackcollier7@talktalk.net

Never being sorry

Sorry is not enough ~ sometimes you have to change.

What is a real and genuine apology?  It’s an acknowledgement and acceptance that one has done something wrong.  An apology is also an acceptance and acknowledgement of responsibility for the hurt one has caused, and a pledge to change one’s ways in the future.  A real and genuine apology is an expression of guilt, regret, remorse, and a pledge to try harder to do better in the future.  A real and genuine apology is not merely a platitude in order to placate the aggrieved party.

Feeling guilty is not a substitute for loving somebody; it is only an indicator that you have failed to love somebody.  ~  Clifford Cohen.

Sometimes just saying that you’re sorry will not do.  Ofttimes an apology is only an empty gesture made to ‘keep the peace’.  Sometimes the things that we do and say, the books we read, the movies we like, the people we listen to, sometimes these things reveal a deeper truth and our glib apologies are shown for the fatuous banalities they so often are.  An oft quoted line from John Wayne movies is; ‘Never apologise, mister, it’s a sign of weakness…’  A greater truth would have been if his character had said; ‘Never apologise, mister, it’s meaningless…’

If we are truly dedicated to the truth, and if we have good inside us, then we should never need to apologise, because we will never do anything so bad that we need to say ‘sorry…’  However, we Englishmen are prone to apologise, to say sorry all the time.  If you tread on my toe, I will naturally say sorry.  If you barge into me because you’re not looking where you’re going, I will naturally say sorry.  Any English Gentleman of my generation has been brought up to be polite, to always show exemplary manners, to show women and girls the utmost respect.  To mind one’s language, never swear in front of women and children, to be careful of the topics we discuss for fear of giving offence.  And, an Englishman should never, ever, talk about; God, women we have ‘known’, how much money we make, and politics ~ not even with our closest friends.  Englishmen regard politicians with utter contempt, and we extend that contempt to anyone who dares to lecture us on religion, or political matters, or how to make money, or how to be successful with women, or what the English do ‘wrong’.

A side effect of the English ideal of ‘Good Manners’ is that we look askance at most American men, and would rather not include any boorish American men in our circle of friends.  The average Englishman doesn’t think the average American guy is a ‘good person’.  Sometimes this means that even a cool, calm, patiently understanding Englishman will get angry with Americans.  Recently we Englishmen have been quite annoyed / furious at Clinton, (both of them), Obama, Trump, Meryl Streep, and anyone who dares to lecture us about terrorism on English soil. Conversely, of English politicians we like Boris Johnson, (whom most Americans dislike intensely).

 In order to rise from its own ashes, a phoenix must first burn.  ~  Octavia E. Butler.

If an Englishman does get angry, then usually, after a while, his innate ‘good common-sense’ returns like a phoenix rising from the ashes, and he will attempt to rebuild burned bridges, to forgive and forget, to understand and accept.  Disagreeing with the things people say, and then getting angry about it, is not the mark of a good man.  There is a saying; ‘I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the Death your right to say it…’  Voltaire I think.  I prefer the pithier and more honest; ‘You’re right, but I don’t agree…’  We may have to dig deep, but a real English Gentleman will eventually find the fountain of good within himself.

Look within.  Within is the fountain of good, and it will ever bubble up if thou wilt ever dig.  ~  Marcus Aurelius

I may like, care about, and respect some people in spite of their opinions, the things they do, the things they have done, and the things they are planning to do ~ even if I am hurt or profoundly disagree with their opinions and actions.  After all, I cannot change what happens to me, I can only change how I respond and react.  It matters not one iota whether another person ever feels the need to apologise when they have clearly been wrong and hurtful ~ after all, one should never apologise, it’s meaningless.

~

jack collier

jackcollier7@talktalk.net

 

love of a friend

~

rainbows that arch in the sunlight

with colours that gracefully blend

a voice in the peace of the night

soft with real love for a friend

my lady, I am your knight

~

words and pictures by jack collier

jackcollier7@talktalk.net

%d bloggers like this: