Life Happens…

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The Ovation of the Seas. Interesting this name for a ship that continues to echo with appreciative applause within my heart and mind. A voyage, not simply renewing friendship and exploration, but an adventure, unexpected, serene, and confusingly optimistic in a few out-of-focus experiences, begins my cocoon-like transformation in a course direction navigated by stars and sea charts. Little do I wonder at the events I never expected, anticipated, or experiences because they are marvels, rarities in life, fragilities worth guarding, emotional dimensions, and lighthouse beacons during my contemplative voyage. I return to her time again to remember. Ovation, I remember and hear in solemn, sustained bursts of gratitude, for I feel and see anew, spreading my fins and wings into another interconnected sphere, one that fills my skies, valleys, mountains, fiords, and seas with the sublime.

Looking back over a year since I embarked on an incredible voyage without companionship, I reflect. What purpose do I seek in glancing, or linger looking, before summoning courage for the journey ahead? Many reasons come to mind. Appreciating where I come from, aware of what is behind me, and the impact of the choices tattooed upon my heart and soul help me go forward where wonders await beyond the visible horizon. The memories and clarity of opportunities seized, pivotal moments. Tiny beams of hope-filled light lead to anticipation, hesitation, consternation, frustration, sorrow, happiness, jubilation, and admiration. Moments; I own and cherish.

November 15, 2019 — Sitting in the Windjammer with my writing pad, book, food, and thoughts, I stop reading to ponder what I just read. I turn back a few pages to search for another dialogue that held me bound for minutes. Intrigued, I am witness to an adventure with the Knights Templar in a historical fiction that reverberates with character and decisions. Compare, reflect, read again, and so I continue for the space of approximately 10 minutes, back and forth, considering the implication for these young knights and my life, imagining. The words remain. I must note them.

You do not need to know what is in tomorrow to live in today and you don’t have to see the future to walk toward it.

Young, Robyn. “Brethren: An Epic Adventure of the Knights Templar.” Hodder & Stoughton, United Kingdom. 2006. pg. 445

Time? What’s that? Nothing, that’s what time is! It’s all just empty moments unless you fill it with things that means something.

Young, Robyn. “Brethren: An Epic Adventure of the Knights Templar.” Hodder & Stoughton, United Kingdom. 2006. pg. 422

Yesterday, today, tomorrow, vocabulary marking time. All three words find expression in the here and now as the past and future, one gone, the other hopefully coming with another dawn. Yesterday leaves with its history, while tomorrow remains unwritten. The what-ifs and if only expressions bear witness of no truth, for both are fraught with supposition and disguise, falsehood. But today, the present, the allotted breath and time given as a gift to you and I, beckons us to build castles of wonder from nuggets of gold found in the sands of time, moments. I invite you to browse and pause as you scroll through my photographic exhibition, a gallery of my heart, cherished moments of mine. They reflect the essence of all I am, do, and feel; an exposed narrative. Each tells a story, most from my camera, a few contributions from children of mine.

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A MOMENT

A moment, an embryo. Within the sanctity of the womb producing life, I feel the tiniest ripples spreading. Undeterred by obstacles, they continue their outward reach, a miracle to behold.

A moment rises. Quietly, subtly painting the palette of my heart, like morning breaking night’s hold, I see, with awe, a single, solitary beam of light ascending above the horizon.

A moment comes. Awareness pricks my senses. It drifts around and through me like a ghostly, floating, downy feather gently gliding, barely discernible, unless I see, undistracted, and feel its tickle whispering, like kisses on the breath of a fairy.

A moment stops the heart, caught in my breath. The canvas of the natural world, its stunning vistas open to my view. The master artist uses his brush to capture light and shadow that takes my breath away. The majesty of His handiwork holds my heart within His hands before the wind whispers His words. Remember. Feel my touch. Inhale. Beat within my palms to see my presence near.

A moment rests. A precious cloak woven of intimate golden threads lay upon my shoulders, wrapping me in warmth. My heart, alight and glowing, dancing within the hearth, its flames, sparks of life, and feels at peace, abiding solemnity.

A moment opens. An image floods my mind like the opening words of great literature that lives in my memory, pleasing my senses, stirring my imagination, and beginning a new chapter in my story. I write.

A moment captures. The essence of being, of life, of love, flows through waters pure and clear, in sync with the language of elements and nature. I stand still, at the cusp of something grand. I may not know and even fear its powerful restraints, and yet I strain to see beyond the tangible and feel. Captured by the magical world within a space between, I choose to observe, imagine, dream, and breathe each invigorating, tantalizing scent drifting upon the air.

A moment passes. Falling away, carried upon the breezes of memory’s delights, I try to hold the welcoming space in time that flutters delicately on butterfly wings, touching my cheeks with tiny, tender droplets of dew, reminders of sorrows and joys. And so I remember.

A moment closes. The longings piercing my heart with joyful anticipation exceed the beauty of colourful conclusions settling over me like the slow, descending sun warming my cooling skin under the alluring hues of eventide. Grains of sand in the hourglass of time, well spent in the sun, water, or mountain, mark my sleeping breath in counts of awe and gratitude.

A moment changes. Unmeasurable in its infinite array, like stardust particles, its transformative power works magical prowess deep within hidden vaults of mysteries untold. Bit by bit, little by little, the accumulation awakens the dreamer contemplating in meditations’ realms.

A moment, always and forever. Carried within the breast, where hushed tones of wisdom’s knowledge touch selected chords, immutable truth, harmonizes all experiences into a composition worthy of heavenly realms, a symphony of eternity. I listen and sing.

© Vicki Nicholls January 2021

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Time is only time, no respecter of person, place, or thing. The ticking of a grandfather clock, the cuckoo from afar, the rooster with its crowing, and the phases of each day are simply measures of what it may contain. To each is given a very precious gift, life through breath. With the breath of life comes an internal clock granting to each one time. It truly is something to behold. Time is not free. It only comes by once for most, a vanishing commodity. Moments do not last forever, but remembrance creates a masterpiece. Big or small, it matters not as it is yours, your sustenance and legacy, the life you give to time.

All is empty unless we fill it with things that mean something, valuable to each his own. Many unplanned, unexpected circumstances did not delight, but their marks and scars show a woman not afraid to fight, to overcome, to soar. There is always light where there are shadows. Moments come to one and all, seeking or not. They write our song of life if we stop, engage our senses, and hope to grasp them with our might. Something to bring happiness and joy to those we love, to leave with a friend in need, to honour, to learn, and to feel at peace, moments. Moments move me forward to another space and time, even when my feet are weary, my knees are weak, my heart fails, and my mind debates, where all my choices build my castle of golden nuggets. They are the memories, cherished and true, buoying me through rough seas and carrying me safely into the harbour.

Simply my thoughts, experience, feelings and hope.
Dear reader, you decide.

Life happens . . .
=> Which moments fill you?
=> What takes your breath away?
=> Is there a moment of self-discovery that lets you live in today while walking into the unknown future beyond the horizon of your present knowledge or wisdom?

Many, varied, and rich, are my sacred, solemn experiences I reserve in the bosom of my soul, expressed in quiet hours of grateful contemplation and reflections. Truly blessed with moments that move me, heart, might, mind, and breath, I stand in awe. .
Ovations on my seafaring voyages.

Life Happens . . . so do Reflections . . . so does the Space Between . . . so do Whispers . . . to Everyone . . . so do Feelings . . . so do Awakenings . . . so do Sounds . . . so do Beginnings . . . so does Enlightenment
. . . so do Poetic Expressions . . . so does Waiting (SM) . . . so does a Ballad of the Contemplative Voyager
. . . so does the Master’s Touch (SM) . . . so does Dispelling Emptiness in Aloneness
. . . so do Aw-ha! Moments . . . so do Rooftops (SM) . . . so do Landscapes . . . so do . . .? . . . so . . .
. . . so do Dioramas (SM) . . . so do Storms . . . so do Prayers (SM) . . . so do Skeletons
. . . so does “What lack I yet?” (SM) . . . so do Feet . . . so do Swords and Shields (SM) . . . so do Tents
. . . so do Rescues (SM) . . . so do Father/Daughter Memories . . . so does the Shepherd (SM)
. . . so do Missing Pieces . . . so do Faith and Wholeness (SM) . . . do do Waves . . . so does Gingerbread
. . . so does “What am I to do now?” . . . so do Choices

***NOTE: (SM) = posts written under the sub-category Scriptural Musings comprising of my thoughts, reflections, and personal opinions based on my study of the King James Bible. ***