Month: February 2015

Who Am I? It’s A Mystery.

By / December 9, 2016 / Creativity, Personal, Philosophy, Writing
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My nephew Mason had his fourth birthday party last December, and the house was saturated with plastic helium balloons. When the festivities were over, I tried to think of things I could do with them (other than make myself sound like a chipmunk) so they wouldn’t completely go to waste.

Suddenly inspired, I grabbed a sheet of paper, scribbled a note and attached it to one of the balloons before releasing it into the sky. It was my hope that I could instill a sense of mystery and wonder into a random stranger’s life.

This is what the note said:

You might be wondering who I am. But who I am is a mystery. All the evidence you have of my existence is this solitary note.

That’s part of what makes life so interesting. From the big mysteries, like what we are and why we’re here, to the small mysteries, like who that crazy guy is who’s sending notes out on balloons.

Enjoy life. Enjoy the mystery. <3

In the very unlikely event you happen to be the person who found my note, please let me know in the comments below!

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©2015 Jeff Coleman. All rights reserved. For reproduction rights, please contact the author (who happens to be a kind and eminently reasonable man.) Unless otherwise stated, images are copyrighted by various artists and licensed by Shutterstock.

Friday Freewrite

By / December 9, 2016 / Creativity, Fiction, Writing
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What’s Friday Freewrite? Find out here.

Spinning, swirling colors, neon bright, transcendent in splendor, colors that don’t exist in the visible spectrum, only I can see them, for my nature transcends the human experience, though I was once human like all the rest.

Now, I sit atop a cloud of cosmic energy, glowing brighter than a helium star, and from atop my cosmic perch I behold the rise and fall of worlds, colliding, anhilating1, something else I can’t think of2.

Something. A wonderful placeholder, so perfect. Perfection is imperfection. Freewriting. So freeing. I don’t have to know what I want to say, because I can simply let my mind generate ideas by itself.

The mind. Cosmic. Transcendent. It defies a totally materialistic origin, is rooted in a materialistic universe yet is something more. LIke some impossibly ancient tree, its trunk rises high above the material universe, sprouts sprawling branches far above, somewhere in another realm, a higher plane of existence, an abstract world of concepts and ideas, of existence in its purest essence, the elixir of life, the seed of life, with no cumbersome matter to bog it down.

Footnotes

1. This should have been spelled annihilating. English, you so silly.

2. When I can’t think of anything to say and I’m freewriting, I write about that. Eventually, as you’ll see a little further down, I move on to something new. When you’re freewriting, it’s very important to keep the pen moving, even if you have no idea what to write about.

Enter your email address and click "Submit" to subscribe and receive The Sign.

©2015 Jeff Coleman. All rights reserved. For reproduction rights, please contact the author (who happens to be a kind and eminently reasonable man.) Unless otherwise stated, images are copyrighted by various artists and licensed by Shutterstock.