What Remains

This blog has had many evolutions. It has seen many times in my life. Over the years, I've had many different ideas about what I would like it to be. Despite my desire to make it something (of what I still don't know), I have posted inconsistently and have not managed to keep any semblance of a theme. Nevertheless, the one thing this blog has done consistently is to remain, however inconspicuous.

I actually have at least one similar, "what is my blog for?" post such as this. But what I want to do here is to simply state that I no longer want to define it. Yet, at the same time I want to pin this as an introduction of sorts. An introduction for an audience of one, perhaps?

I was just taking stock in the aesthetics of my blog. The forlorn black an white, the lonesome birds, the empty bench. All wispy and somewhat elegant to me. At least that is probably what I thought when I took the time to design it. I put it together a long time ago, so I can't even say for sure. But I was just taking note of how my feelings about my purpose of even having a blog carries through in its display.

It makes me think of one of my favorite poems, Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost. I love that poem for so many reasons, but one of which is that feeling it gives me. The part that reverberates with me is that the rider lingers in a place that captures him for no apparent reason. I know that feeling. And even though he has other things to do, he takes the moment to stop. That is what I do in my writing. Just moments taken for reflection, many times for no apparent reason.

Love: A Poem

by Stacy Fain (circa July 2002)

Love - forever's path to eternity.
For are we survivors or victors of love?
Am I an empty vessel to a means?
The all consuming fire of love
leaves me incomplete and yearning for more.
Yet love is kindly deceiving,
a wolf in sheep's clothing.
It lures me in once again,
and still I am drawn.
In the end that is never ending
all that is left is the conquered,
anesthetized and imprisoned for all eternity. 

Stepping Out

Sometimes I feel so lost in life. There are so many pieces of me. They are so spread out that sometimes I feel incomplete with what is left. There are pieces in the many places I've lived and left behind, pieces in the many people that decorate my memories, big and small. Sometimes those memories feel like reruns of an old sitcom, or well worn shoes that you spot in your closet from time to time but never wear. You know they belong somewhere else, in another time. I want to say they belong to a better time. Because what is better than the known? Than the familiar? The trouble is, you can't know without leaving it behind to find out. But that is uncomfortable.

I am reasonably afraid of heights, like most people I suspect. When I was a kid, I remember stupidly taking the elevator all the way up to the top of the 300 foot tower at Six Flags. I remember that I immediately questioned my choice once the elevator left the ground. At the top, I remained glued to the interior wall nearly the entire time I was up there. However, little by little I inched out close enough to the railing to enjoy the view. Seeing my surroundings from such a great height was a brand new perspective for me. And the act of overcoming my fear was both invigorating and reassuring. The journey to the top would've nearly been useless had I not found the courage to step out further. 

As I am writing this, I am just putting all this together in my head. Life and circumstances and choices have led me to this point. Each step and each turn have led me out of my place of comfort. It has been a journey for sure, but now I am here. So, now is the time where I step out a little bit further, so I can take in the beauty of where my journey has led me and soak in the lesson it has undoubtedly taught me.