Peter M. Hunt's Blog, page 17
April 15, 2019
Words
Words unspoken reel the puerile fancy in delight and delusion, flinging the heart in a slam-dance of reason, a confused ecstasy beneath wit’s veil.
Words, branded by insufficiency and soiled with adjective purity, also define a truncated existence barren of nagging truth.
Words shrewdly mark the serpentine trail to the grave at your feet. Self-fulfilling prophesy or selfish pride of heresy? Verbalization demands an either or.
April 7, 2019
A path to the soul
In man’s hurried chase for advancement, a world has been fashioned of despondent gloom, a mechanical land of literalism and materialism that rebuffs life’s essential spark. An enchanted dominion of numbers, where that which cannot be measured does not exist, consigns creativity and imagination to roles of leisure and sloth, suffocating in judgement.
Our deliberate prison is of binary design, tolerating but a two-dimensional reality when even the most jaded of eyes can see a third perspective,...
April 6, 2019
Cup of tears
Brilliance flits at shadow’s fringe, delighting the twirling downpour. Leaves and roots thirst unopposed. Unwinding the foolishness with a child’s laughter, I come to share a cup of tears.
April 1, 2019
Falling deeply
Transcending mediocrity, sloughing off discontent’s turbid waters through discovery of weighty sincerity, is a pursuit of silence. No fanfare of audience or finish line trumpets the vitality of arrival.
To feel deeply is to fall deeply, not to stumble back to sunlight’s superficiality, but to evolve in curious darkness, learning to shiver in the fullness of the moon.
Life’s opposites sling us in awkward cycles, irregular circles that must be viewed from afar to recognize the patterned disorde...
March 29, 2019
Ego’s indifference
Experience’s implication that the world is indifferent to our fate shakes the core, loosening forever the foundations of trust in fate’s reason.
Meaning and purpose do not remain empty, non-personal words, but evolve, eventually filling a canvas with spattering pastels of belief. But between the bright droppings of color lies the interconnected darkness of indifference. The black patches grow until all that is seen is vacuum, a nothingness. This is nature’s indifference.
The cool sword thrust...
March 21, 2019
On your own
Sovereign emptiness glides into place, dragging the soul into dread darkness as the universe’s dismal fate slithers into each crevasse of the mind with the promise of perpetually lingering eternity. Yet, to avoid entry into this glorious wasteland is to ignore life’s gift with the pretention of knowledge and the posturing of ego. It is to beg at the altar of materialism for scraps of human tribute.
Humans demand oversimplification with the audacity of a school yard bully, zealously struggling...
February 26, 2019
Shadow of doubt
To recognize the purposelessness of life is an odyssey, a sail to nowhere with the winds of ego shifting aimlessly, offering no headway as gale and doldrums threaten with equal urgency. There are no new revelations, only universal truths recycled by the emotions of personal experience.
And even as Odysseus learns to appreciate and honor his lonely quest, the solitary sojourn that brings meaning to life’s void, the course he steer’s is one of anguished trials, each seeking to usher in defeat t...
January 17, 2019
Exploring exploring
Twenty-one years ago, I began a quest of self-discovery that is only becoming clear to me now. I was flying for United Airlines at the time, well before my Parkinson’s diagnosis, and had grown unsatisfied with a life of going through the motions without a greater purpose or goal.
Most of the usual culprits of modern distraction did not interest me greatly: money and power held no special significance, and although fame intrigued, and eventually infecting me with an unrealistic – at least for...
November 20, 2018
The bear went over the mountain…
Climbing, head bowed in effort, legs churn to crest the apex only to find still another desolate rise taunting the familiar.
“The bear went over the mountain; the bear went over the mountain…” A child’s tedium sing-songs as timeless remnant, nestling in the brain, slowly seeding aged apprehension.
There is no need to strain tired eyes, to look beyond. It’s all okay.
“The bear went over the mountain, to see what he could see…” Louder now; a mocking chorus of Teddies seducing the body to believ...
November 1, 2018
Where gritty meets sublime
Browsing in a used bookstore the other day, I came across an original hard cover copy of “Where the Wild Things are” by Maurice Sendak, a marvelously playful romp into childhood’s dark side. The story’s hero, Max, escapes the drudgery of parental rules to create his own world of scary creatures where anything seems possible, where life’s exciting beauty traverses the imagination without, for a short time, limit.
Max must eventually return to society’s defined reality, but with the whispered c...
