sands of time

I stood on the beach with cold waves crashing against my legs. Tiny grains of sand push onto the shore then pull back into the vast ocean, slipping away from under my feet. My grip on the earth reshaped with each undulation. The sand under my feet ages old, its final destination unknown; carrying with it mysteries untold, sights unseen and secrets laid to rest on ocean floor. The sands of time rest under my feet - past, present and future entwined - if only for an instant before continuing its journey.

Found this inspiring poem as I was searching "sands of time":

"A PSALM OF LIFE"

Tell me not in mournful numbers,
"Life is but an empty dream!"
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
"Dust thou art, to dust returnest,"
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us further than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act -- act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labour and to wait.

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882).

those in the moment moments

my greatest interest is discovery.

it was a eureka moment, in digital conversation. i may have gotten to the very core of my mechanical make-up. you know like what lights me up, makes me happy, gives me purpose....

my blanket, my testament, my masterpiece

Events and circumstances are the fibers of our lives. I believe these individual fibers interwoven create the fabric of who we are. In other words independent stand-alone events, circumstances, situations come together to form who we are.

So, me, Anietra, I'm a soft, cozy blanket 31 years long. I can visualize an old woman in a rocking chair, crocheting my being from the moment I was pushed out of my mother's womb. Such a huge responsibility for this woman to take on because there is so much work, so much crocheting yet to be done.

My blanket is every color of the rainbow, expressing my abundant youth, colorful heritage, vibrant self-discovery. Colors depicting my hardships and victories, my losses and loves. Everything is represented in this blanket of my life - my testament.

Did I say my blanket was soft and cozy? It did not start out so. In my early years my blanket was too small to judge how it would "turn out". The old woman continued to crochet, content with the notion that she would see how it "turned out" at the end. As the years progressed, these fibers, that were joined to become the fabric of my life - my blanket - seemed to become coarse and rigid. A comfy blanket it was not.

Up to that point, the old woman was crocheting at will. All my experiences were worked into my blanket, not too different then a knitting factory churning out sweaters at assembly line pace. Then there was a shift. I began to discover who I was, began to evaluate each individual fiber of my being and the value I had placed on them. I radiated understanding, acceptance, love and peace. The old woman crocheted them, turning my tough blanket into a supple one and it continues on...

My blanket, my testament, my masterpiece.