Who Am I? It’s A Mystery.

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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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Friday Freewrite

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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.

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#OneLineStories

 

I’ve started a new series on Twitter under the hashtag #OneLineStories. The idea is to capture the essence of (or at least hint at) a complete story in a single tweet. How am I doing? Tweet me back, or reply in the comments below!

You can read my “One Line” stories by clicking here.

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Time

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It’s amazing how slowly time seems to go as you experience childhood. You have those landmark days like Christmas and your birthday to mark the year, and it seems almost a lifetime in-between.

You grow up a bit.  Time starts to pick up its pace, but not by much.  You spend six years in Elementary School, convinced you have life all figured out.  Then you reach the end of your sixth grade year, and the pressures of the unknown begin to gnaw at the back of your mind as you contemplate the notion of — GASP! — Junior High.

By this point, time’s speed has increased markedly.  However, you soon discover that Junior High is no big deal, and you once more begin to believe that you have life all figured out, that things will always be as they are in that moment.  You have some notion of existing in a transient state, but as you deal with new friends, new enemies and the stresses that come with peer pressure, it’s really the last thing that enters your mind.

You reach the end of your eighth grade year, another milestone, and uncertainty creeps into your mind once again.  This time, it’s the frightening prospect of High School.  You’re not quite as worried about High School as you were about Junior High, but fear gets the better of you just the same.  You endure sleepless nights over summer vacation dreaming about forgotten classes, getting lost in an endless maze of foreign buildings and embarrassing moments with your peers.  Finally, you attend your first day of school, realize it’s nothing new and settle into your home away from home for the next four years.

This is the moment that time really decides to kick itself into gear.  People always used to tell you this would happen, but you never really believed them. You lose old friends, make new ones, lose yourself, find yourself.  When it’s all said and done, you’re standing there amidst your family and peers getting ready to receive your diploma.  You sing your school’s Alma mater one last time, and you find yourself trying to hide unexpected tears as you realize that, despite what you thought at the time, those really were the best years of your life.

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