Born This Way

People look within themselves and look at others, and they see things that they do not like, but can not fix.  We then focus on these things, and it can become something we fixate on... and we no longer see the beauty that is there. To me, this is like looking at a rose and seeing nothing but the thorns, we never look past and accept what we don’t like.  These things make us different, and why we may not like what we see it makes us who we are.  We need to accept that we are born the way we are, and love ourselves and each other… and celebrate what makes us different. 

Hands

Hands are what make us unique, yes other creatures have them… but it is uncertain if they hold the same sentiments that humans place in them.   They symbolize so many things about us, we use them to grasp and hold onto things that mean so much to us.   We place in them the very characteristics of those we love… they become those we love and can be characters unto themselves.

Pine Trees

I was born in Jackson, Mississippi the largest city in the state, and by far probably the most rural capital or major city in any state.   In fact I have heard Jackson referred to as “the city in the woods,” because no matter where you are in the capital city, if you go to the top of the tallest buildings, you will see buildings poking out of the trees for miles.  

So needless to say trees make up a great portion of my world and why Mississippi does have a variety of trees, one species is more common than most others.   The Pine Tree is found throughout the state and has been a major source of industry in the area since Mississippi was a territory.   Pine trees are so imbedded in my mind that it seems alien when I am in a place where these trees are not found. 

For a Glance into the world of Others, Visit the My World Tuesday Page! 

Water

I’m always drawn to water; I guess it must be a family trait.   My mother and her father going back generations have always been found near water in some shape or form.  I see this trait being passed along to my nephew as well, I wonder if it is a learned trait or genetic.

I always find lakes, rivers and streams no matter where I visit, and Lake Waterloo was one of the more recent finds during my visit to Texas.  Half of the Lake is manicured and almost looks like a golf course water trap; the other half is wooded, wild, and beautiful.   I preferred the wild part, with the beautiful rocks, and trees… as well as the occasional snake swimming amongst the waves.

Reflective Witness

Places of tranquility often lead to inspiration, this is a rule that I believe many people neglect to follow.   Here in Mississippi, just a bit north of Jackson on the

Natchez Trace Parkway

lies what was once a part of the Pearl River.   It is marked as a point of interest, not a historical place as most others are, it is the Cypress Swamp.  The Pearl river changed its course thousands of years ago, leaving behind a swamp where it once flowed.  Over thousands of years Cypress trees majestically grew tall and overtook the swamp, creating a quiet breathtaking place of reflection.  I thought of many things as I explored this amazing place, one thing that grabbed my attention were the size of some of the cypress trees, and the knowledge that they could have bore witness to the first explorers to the region, and to the way of life hundreds of years before Europeans discovered this continent... and yet they are alive, to bear witness to me.     Small in the scheme of things.

Waterloo

Some paths appear in front of us, paths that we are meant to take no matter how much we avoid them. We do not always know why we must walk the trail or where the trail will take us… but it is there, and it must be traveled.

I walked this trail last week, and while I was in one situation at the beginning by the end I was in a completely different situation. I wish I could understand what occurred or why it occurred, but it did and I am left with the aftermath. Ironically the trail circles Lake Waterloo in Denison, Texas; part of the Texoma (Oklahoma/Texas) region… I met my “waterloo” at Waterloo Lake, in many ways…

 

Mended

I wasn’t ready for you,
But you claimed to be true.
I went the distance to see,
If it was meant to be.

I am used to the loss,
Another marker for me to cross.
It was affection that I did crave,
I’m slammed the much like a wave.

What was shattered will be mended,
And things will be splendid.
The shattered pieces will be whole,
As I pick up the pieces as I go.

Home

We hold these places to be sacred, for the most part they contain all that is us… our possessions, our photos, and our memories. They are never perfect, they may have cracks, and we may keep the doors locked to keep the bad people or, or us in… as Tim Minchin would put it. But the fact is, it is home.

I often wonder who once lived in homes such as the one shone here. I know someone once found shelter within these collapsing walls, I wonder if they are still around to walk among the ruins of their once sacred place. It is a sad thought, but at the same time there is something beautiful about the circle that is life. What was once someone’s haven is now shelter to the many creatures that roam the forest and need their own place to feel safe.

Inside the Door.

Inside the window.

This abandoned house is located on Airport Road outside Mendenhall, MS.