Maria Scott Herndon: Fabric Of Being

One thing leads to another. Somewhere along the way I became lost; too many blurry details. I try to focus; find the positive steps that lead the way out. Is there more than one path? How do I know? Should I just sit back and watch? Some of it is entertaining, some just irritating. It becomes tiring. I continue to sift through the turmoil; searching and learning. I do not let it break me; it is controllable. Knowledge keeps me grounded. Strength keeps me going. The light shines through; only if I am aware. The path opens up; only if I can see past the brush. There is always a way up the ladder, for one thing leads to another.

Donald J. Trump’s first year in office as President has been one ludicrous, mind-numbing day after another. From his nuclear war-baiting Tweets to his calls to investigate or criminalize legitimate opposition and our free press, Trump has shown America that we may no longer use the term “America First” without cringing. We allowed, even if we didn’t elect, this racist, mind-blowingly ignorant, sexist, likely criminal, narcissistic child to ascend to our highest office in the land, a catastrophe from which there may be no turning back. Propping himself up with profoundly unqualified, white male sycophants, Trump has unloaded  damage to the air we breathe and the water we drink. He has brought out deep-seated hatreds, emboldened the Nazis, caused average citizens to doubt basic science and fact. The Trump regime has, lowered our standing as a democracy at home and abroad. Yet, here is the greater problem, the proverbial “elephants in the room:” the Republican Party leadership in ...

A dark figure stands alone on the side of a bridge. A saxophone, reflecting the lights of street lamps and passing cars, is clutched in his hands. He stands motionless for what seems like an eternity. Cars go by. As the street lamps flicker the one closest to him goes out, leaving him in complete darkness. Every now and then another car goes by, illuminating the figure standing silently on the side of the bridge for an instant before driving by. After what seems like years a single note pierces the still and quiet air. Not a loud note, nor a sharp one. A simple G, alone and without company, sustained for a few seconds and then lost amid a flurry of passing cars. The sound begins again. The G pierces the air again, followed by a slow and mournful melody. Each note reveals the innermost recesses of the artist's soul, disappearing as fast as they come. Far to fast for anyone to read upon them the true feelings of the man, but long enough for a casual listener to bathe in the sh...

Let’s be honest, when we’re getting false ballistic missile warnings, the most powerful politician in the world describes countries as shitholes, and women are vilified for coming forward about sexual harassment, it’s time to step back and immerse yourself in whatever makes you happy, even if it has been proven to clog your arteries or makes you pretentious. Is this all there is to life? Chasing one high after the next? Slaves until the weekend, when we can drown our sorrows and feel okay for a few lousy hours? That’s what we do, right? Chase these momentary fleets of happiness so we can feel alive once again. So we can look at our lives and say, “I am living!” Or maybe it’s just me? I don’t know if I’m going through some sort of identity crisis or existential dilemma, or maybe I am just losing my freaken mind, but it’s as though the universe has slapped me hard across the face and said, “GO CRAZY… you only get one chance at life!” I suppose, over time, life had robbed...

Hello 2018.   Uh.......Now what? I'm a bit skittish after 2017. (Sigh) Okay...... Here goes. Sometimes, I think of our goals in life much like a dark alley in the middle of the night. For some it might be just a shortcut, but for others it’s the path home. Either way you get scared easily. If you can avoid it, you will. Because looking into the darkness and not seeing the light at the other end is too terrifying. And maybe, despite being 90 percent sure, you’re just not willing to risk making it out. So you don’t. And day after day you walk the long way home, avoiding the alley as if it didn’t exist. Just like, day after day, you avoid thoughts of the things you wish you were doing. The things you know you could be doing, should be doing. Or maybe you got stuck in that place somewhere between thinking of your goals constantly, and actually doing something about them. That is the worst place to be. An accomplished goal brings with it the euphoria of success; the beaut...