Merry Christmas!!

A Story (part trois)

Hope. She’d always had it. She never really knew for what, but felt she had to honor her name by always carrying that feeling with her. It was all she had left from her family.

She walked through the trees that surrounded the cabin after Jack left. The morning dew was still heavy on the ground and the heat from the sun had yet to make the day unbearable. As she walked she thought about the path that had led her back here.

Many seasons had passed since she’d been gone, and time had carried her far away from this life – or so she thought. Maybe I never really left, she thought. Maybe I was simply taking the long way home.

Home. It occurred to her as that word crossed her mind that she’d never really had one. Her parents died when she was young and the people that were supposed to be watching out for them took her in. She had no complaints about her life during that period, but she certainly never qualified it as home. There was too much moving around to get rooted any one place.

It was that life that taught her to take nothing for granted and to rebel against any and all conformity. She was working deep within the resistance movement before the war when Jack found her. Being one of the few people she trusted from her youth, she followed him blindly into a life that would keep her on the run in some form or fashion for the next decade. Truth be told, she was still running; the only thing that changed were the reasons she ran.

The years she spent with Jack and his gang she remembered fondly. They traveled the globe, going wherever their services were needed at any given time. The group was so tight knit that no matter where any of them were, or what they needed, the others could always be trusted to be there when called. This group was the closest thing she had to a family. And, she supposed, a home.

As she meandered along, lost deep in her thoughts, she found herself on a cliff. It was a cliff she knew well, for she’d spent countless hours here once upon a time. It was a perfect place to spend some time alone, or with a companion, depending on her mood. And except for one, no one knew about this place.

As she stared out over the vastness below, the memory of precisely why she left came rushing back. The memory of what she’d done – of what nobody else knew she’d done – was her burden to bear, and she had chosen to bear it alone. She had long ago made peace with it, but then she’d never had to face it either.

And then there was Luke. If anyone deserved a goodbye, if not an explanation, it was Luke. He had taken care of her and loved her and given her his all. He was her strength when she faltered and the reason she could face each day with dignity and grace.

No matter how many miles and days she put between them, those feelings hadn’t changed since she left. But left she did, without a word. But now she was back. Jack had called her for a reason, and she needed to know why.

She took one more lingering look out over the scenery before her and took a deep breath. “I can’t run forever,” she said, before heading back to the cabin.

The sun was high by the time she reached the clearing. As she emerged from the tree line, she noticed a reflection from the sun glinting off something that wasn’t there before. Another car, one she didn’t recognize, was parked next to hers.

She stepped back into the shadow of the trees and started to work her way around the edge of the clearing. When she got within 100 yards of the cars, she stopped in her tracks. Whoever was there was behind her. She did a slow turn, wishing she had her gun, and found herself standing within a few feet of him. As he stepped out from behind a tree, her heart began to race.

“Hello, Hope.”

“Hello, Luke.”

**tbc**

A Story (part deux)

She awoke to the sound of an engine in the distance. It was dark again. She had somehow managed to sleep through the entire day. She got up and walked to the window that faced the road. There she saw the tiniest hint of lights heading her way.

***

He heard the click of the gun before he saw her. “It’s ok Hope, it’s just me – Jack.”

“I know. Otherwise, you’d have never heard me cock my gun.”

“How’ve you been, my dear? It’s been awhile.”

“I’ve been good. Getting by.  You know how it goes.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I do.”

He walked over to her and hugged her, wrapping her up in an embrace full of longing, for he knew that she was never his – nor ever would be.

“Let’s go inside. It’s hot out here,” she said.

He walked to the car and grabbed a couple bags before following her into the cabin. “I brought you a few things I thought you might need. Didn’t figure this old place had anything left in it.”

“It doesn’t,” she said. “Please tell me you brought coffee.”

“Of course. I remember how useless you were without it.” He smiled at this, knowing she would follow up that statement by hitting him.

“Kiss it, Jack. You’re no better!”

“Never said I was.” He walked over to the bar separating the kitchen from the den and unloaded the bags and started a pot of coffee.

“So what have you been up to Jack? Still running with that crazy dame you found on the streets?”

“She wasn’t from the streets, she just wasn’t…refined. But no, I had to get rid of her. She talked too much. That happened not long after you disappeared actually.”

“Yeah, sorry about not saying goodbye. I had to take care of some things, and I had to do it alone.”

“And it took you this long to do it? Hope, are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I promise. There just came a point when coming back no longer felt like an option.”

“I understand. So are you hungry? You want a sandwich?”

“No, just coffee. Not in the mood to eat.”

“You never were.” He made her a cup and poured himself a glass of whiskey before joining her on the couch. She was curled up in the corner, having somehow positioned herself to look like she was sitting up and lying down all at once.

“You’re still as beautiful as ever. The years have been good to you.”

“Thanks, that’s sweet. You’re looking good too. And it’s really good to see you. I had forgotten how nice it was to see a face you can trust.”

“Yes, those faces are few and far between.”  He got up and walked to the window and stared out into the darkness.

“So how did the job go? Was it clean?”

“Yes.”

“Did you leave any trace?”

“No Jack, you know I’m thorough. If I thought I could get caught, I wouldn’t have done it.”

“Good. We don’t want anyone suspecting who is behind this.”

“Who would? You all have alibi’s right? And I’m nothing but a distant memory in most minds – as far as anyone knows, I’m dead.”

“But you’re not dead. You’re right here, just like old times.” He paused a moment before turning to look at her. “Was it hard to do?”

She sat silent for a few minutes before answering. “Honestly, no. I suppose some things you just know, no matter how long it’s been since you’ve done them.”

He chuckled before resuming his position on the couch.  They sat in silence, both lost in their own thoughts for awhile.

“Why did you call me Jack? Certainly you know plenty of others that could do just as well.”

“No, they couldn’t. Some jobs are something of an art, and that is a skill I have never found since you left. Plus, he asked me too.”

She sucked in a breath as a knife pierced her heart at the mention of him; more so at the thought of him mentioning her.

“How is he?” she asked, barely above a whisper.

“He’s doing okay. Has good days and bad, like any of us I guess.”

“Is he happy?”

“Happy? I’m not sure what happy is to him, but I suppose so. I will tell you this - when you left, he was lost, for he lost his Hope.” 

**tbc**

A Story

The night wrapped her in a cloak of safety. She knew once the sun rose again it would shed light on what she had done and she needed to be as far away as possible. She scanned her surroundings intently as the headlights of her car washed over the sides of the road. She was looking for anything that might give her away; anyone that might be able to pinpoint her to this location.

Her cobalt blue eyes, deep as oceans and streaked with red, darted between fear and resolve. The beads of sweat that lined her brow might have given her away had the night not been so hot. Her thin dress clung to her slight frame, offering no relief to her body from the wind coming through the open windows. The air was otherwise still; so still that it made the dust that kicked up from the tires hang in the air before slowly drifting back to the ground.

When did this road get so narrow, she thought. I don’t remember it being so narrow. She had driven this route a few times in the past, though she couldn’t pinpoint exactly how long it had been. It had been years since she had any reason to take it, for she’d had no reason to hide. But now there was reason and she hoped her memory wouldn’t fail her.

As she traveled on, the road before her became less and less apparent, with ruts barely visible as wild bushes overtook what little indication was left. The branches of the trees on either side snarled together creating a canopy right above the roof of her car. She almost decided she had taken a wrong turn when it suddenly opened up into a clearing. Nestled in the corner on the far western edge was the cabin she had been looking for – the one she would hide in until things died down. She pulled around back and parked the car in the trees. After retrieving the key, she went in the back door.

As she walked in, her senses were flooded with memories. Aside from a thick layer of dust, nothing had changed since she was last here. Even a slight smell of cedar mixed with gardenias still permeated the air. As she walked through the house she held the images from the past at bay. Now was not the time to think back. There would be time for that later.

The air inside was more stifling than out, so she opened all the windows and turned on the fans. She decided a hot breeze was better than no breeze at all. She ran a cool bath to scrub off any evidence that may still be on her body. She found some clothes left behind long ago and was grateful in this moment that she hadn’t grown much over the years.

She then went and sat on the couch, and knowing that sleep would elude her, she waited. When the sky brought forth the first hint of the morning sun, she picked up the phone and made a call.

“Jack…it’s done,” was all she said before placing the phone back on its cradle.

**to be continued**

idk ~vs~ ikr

Someone once told me there were always signs – signs that would have guided me had I paid attention. I gave them the “yeah, yeah” nod and smile I often offer when I’m not totally convinced that what I’m being told is actual and factual (isn’t that a song? J). But then, as is always the case when presented information I hadn’t previously known or considered, I mull it over, toss it around in my mind, seek validity if I feel its warranted and eventually reach a conclusion.

And to further augment the validity (or lack thereof) of this idea, I stretched it out to cover different aspects of my life, for research can’t be singular or biased if you want to reach a solid answer. If signs worked here, they should also work there and everywhere.

So it was that I set about paying attention to all the little things I had previously ignored, or so it seemed, during my days. Now mind you, I didn’t overindulge in this latest mind bending caper of mine (I have too many other things brewing to pay too much attention to any one thing to be honest), but I did take note when something happened that might give me a push in a particular direction or offer an answer to a question I might have bouncing around in my head.

I took four separate scenarios, as to not overwhelm myself with “everything” and looked for whatever might guide me to take (or not take) the particular path these scenarios lived on. I wasn’t looking for conclusions or definitive answers (those will happen with or without signs); no, I was just looking for signs…

I didn’t write any of it down so I can’t give you any hard numbers, but I discovered that yes, there are signs. If you look hard enough, you see them everywhere (and if you look really, really hard you’ll eventually get sucked into a labyrinth of signs and become a crazed conspiracy theorist or the like). But then I had to further consider that these signs only began to appear because I was looking for them, which seemed conceivable, since the mind is truly capable of anything.

So I stopped looking, but rather just kept an eye open for any small oddities that might occur. And I’ll be damned if they weren’t still there. Not as bright or as often as when I was specifically looking, but there nonetheless.  So okay, yes, life has signs. Whether we listen to them or not is what determines the paths we choose to take along the way.

Now…I can further indulge my whimsical thoughts here and tell you that in all probability it doesn’t really matter whether we listen or not – we end up where we end up. No matter the choices we make, our life will be guided on the course we set for it, and though the scenery and the characters might have altered depending on the path we chose, we will ultimately be where we were meant to be…

…for where we are meant to be is totally dependent on who we are…

A Notion

It was effortless on her part to see life’s game as timeless. She was left breathless at how ageless her moves were on its board. Somehow it made her blameless for her part and gave her limitless possibilities for her future. She suddenly felt weightless in her body and painless in her mind.

Yes, she thought, sometimes less is more.   

That Thing

Happiness isn’t a place, or a time, or a thing. It’s a feeling. And the only thing in control of a feeling is the person who bears it. Do not blame your surroundings or your situation for how you feel. Blame yourself. Granted, there are people or situations etc. that can try to affect how you feel – but it is ultimately you who decides in the end. Don’t displace it – find it and solve it.

*****

Sometimes you have to roll your eyes back inside your head and focus on that thing inside – that place where pain is never the outcome, only pleasure. If you’re always looking out from within, you might miss it. Look inward and you will begin to let go of everything out there (something that is necessary if you ever really want to find that thing). After you focus your vision, all the other senses will fall into place. And once you find it, I promise you’ll know it, for everything else will melt away.

And that, my friends, feels nice.

Conversations with Rabbit

Rabbit – My fortune says “those grapes you cannot taste are always sour.” What does that mean? Is that like saying the grass isn’t greener on the other side? Why are they sour? And if I can’t taste them how do I know they are sour?

Me – Maybe the logic is twofold. If the grapes you can’t taste were, in fact, bad then one must conclude that they are sour. If the grapes you didn’t taste were sweet, then they were sour for you didn’t taste them. But maybe that only works if they grapes you didn’t taste are always sour, not the grapes you can’t taste… Or we can assume no one is really talking about grapes here and all non-tasted grapes (experiences) are sour (bad). Since the only opposing force to bad is good, it is a battle between good and bad. And if you missed the good, that’s bad, and well, bad is bad – unless of course you missed the bad, then that would be good. Or not. Sometimes bad is good – we need bad for good.

Rabbit – I’m not real sure your interpretations have brought me any closer to wisdom contained in my fortune, but it did make me laugh.

Me – Ok, this proverb comes from one of Aesop’s Fables (The Fox and the Grapes). The fox was hungry and saw grapes high on the vine and tried to get them but couldn’t reach, so he walks away, snorting with derision, saying they were sour anyhow. So on that note, we can say the moral of the story lies in our own disparaging feelings towards those things we want but cannot have, and our way of making the fact we cannot have them somehow okay.

Rabbit – So I guess you were right and I was right in a roundabout right/wrong kind of way.

Me – Well of course we were right. When you obscure the argument with enough rhetoric, what is “wrong” is hard to diagnose and what is “right” is very easy to see.

Poetry Hour :)

It’s easy to breathe when you let it all go.

It’s easy to see if you watch the wind blow.

If knowledge is power then who’s really dumb?

If it is so bad, then why’s it so fun?

If this is your dream, then where do you go –

To visit those places where nobody knows?

I spin in a circle, I never slow down.

I do it to keep my feet on the ground.

So listen for what you don’t usually hear.

And you might be amazed at what will appear…

Goals

"Goals are overrated. Too many variables that can cause you to fail. And I’m not certain if the goal you are trying to meet is the same goal you want to accomplish."

A good friend told me that once. Actually, more than once, in so many words. We’ve had a few conversations about goals over the years.

We weren’t talking about the big goals here – the ones we set for ourselves to give us the end result we want in life. Those goals are important, and whether we ever achieve them or not doesn’t matter. What’s more important with these is their ability to give us purpose on our path to the finish line. They give us a reason to push forward and accomplish something.

No, we were talking about the smaller goals. Those little ones we set during our days to get little things done (or not done in my case). These are the overrated ones; the ones we need to not put too much weight on, for in the big scheme of things, they barely matter.

In this case, the goal I set was for something I didn’t want to do. Actually it was something I wanted to do but was trying to not do. I gave myself a frame of time, and if I made it, I would reward myself. Not that I would necessarily punish myself if I failed, and what’s worse, the reward was nothing more than allowing myself to do what I’d been trying to not do. Therefore, if I failed in my goal, it was by taking the reward I sought sooner rather than later. So really it was a win-win, or lose-lose, depending on how you view things. Accomplishment brought reward, as did failure.

And in retrospect, my friend was right. The goal I was trying to meet was not one I really wanted to accomplish. Well, I suppose I did, or I wouldn’t have set it, but it wasn’t something that would propel me forward or help me in the bigger picture. All it did, for fail it I did, was leave me without a sense of accomplishment (not that it mattered, for either way I was going to get what I wanted). 

But then I think, if I failed to accomplish something I didn’t really want to accomplish in the first place, isn't that accomplishing it in the end?

...

It wasn’t what I thought it was going to be. This isn’t to say there was anything wrong with what it was – it just wasn’t precisely how I had imagined it. But then, I would surmise it is hard to imagine something that is new…maybe not new so much as different. Now you might ask what it is I imagined at this point, and that would be a legitimate question. I would have to admit at this point that I’m not real sure what I envisioned.

I suppose I imagined a bunch of things, many different realities so to speak. Some of these possibilities converged easily, allowing for many different scenarios to intertwine and overlap, and there were others that stood alone. And since I had given myself so many options for how it might be, one might think that certainly I hit at least one of my imaginings, but I don’t think I did.

Maybe it was simply something that was unimaginable. Maybe there was no way any foreshadowing could take place, for what can we know of a future event when the paths that lead us there twist and turn in totally discombobulated ways. J

Drivel

I tried to watch some drivel earlier. I couldn’t. Normally I can, as drivel is one of my favorite things to watch in those rare moments I get to watch TV. I enjoy it because it’s so mind-numbingly stupid; your brain processes literally have to slow down in order to understand it.

It also allows me to think of errant things – those things your life rarely gives you time to think about, for they are really so unimportant that you cannot allocate the much needed space in your otherwise busy day (and I’m qualifying even merely watching paint dry as a busy day). For instance, I tend to wander off and start to think about things like the complexities that make up a system that allows us to qualify this as entertainment. Who controls this system and how far do its hands reach? Are those in control programming us or are we programming them? Who, at the end of the day, when all is said and done, really has the power?

I would like to say it’s not me – and I’m using “me” to mean a lot of us – for I would hope this is not what I would produce if I held the reigns. But then again, in some respects, I do. If the signals for it are beaming down into my house, then I am one more person that is watching, and every person does count when it comes to ratings.

Then I wonder, who else is watching this drivel and why? Do they get the same value out of it that I do? Or are they watching for much different reasons? I know a few people who truly enjoy keeping up with some of these shows, really get into the whole faux-story being told. I suppose we all have our own guilty pleasures, although mine lay in other arenas. Drivel merely allows me to not think about what is in front of me. And not that I’m watching the drivel per se; it is just keeping the latent processes working and focused so the rest can flourish.

But for some reason I couldn’t watch it earlier. Not sure why. I tried 3 or 4 times – I’d walk away then go back, but I just couldn’t stop and get interested. This is odd, since I usually don’t have issues stopping to do nothing. But it did lead me to do something productive, so I suppose my lack of interest in what is usually interesting – my lack of interest in drivel – did serve a purpose. Maybe not a greater purpose, but hey, we take what we can get right? J

Thinks

How can you say something has no meaning when the mere task of discovering that notion is meaningful?

The sweetest part of any reward is the anticipation of getting it.

If I tell you nothing is wrong, when obviously there is, you are what's wrong - so go away!

Sometimes you gotta go backwards to go forwards.

You cannot hate something until you have loved it.

If things don't go wrong, how will you know when they go right?

Give the best you can give, and give it now. Don't wait until your dead - unless of course that is the best you can give. :)

If everything is credible, it makes nothing credible at all.

I've got the answer!!! Now where'd I put the damn question?

Dream Weaver

My dreams are thick. They lay heavy on me after I’m awake, even if I don’t remember them. Some are very ordinary, some are convoluted, and some are quite ethereal. And some of these dreams can be interpreted as nightmares – if seen under the right microscope.

Maybe some dreams shouldn’t be written down – because they were meant to go away – be forgotten. So many times I awake with some strange happening fresh in my mind and it’s so vivid and so real that I just know it’s something I won’t forget. But usually, within minutes, if not seconds, I lose them to the vast chasm that is in my head. Occasionally I’ll keep one; it’ll stay fresh throughout the day, maybe a week, every so often for years. And maybe those are the only ones we should remember – the ones our mind keeps instinctively…naturally.

My dreams often wake me up at night – something I trained myself to do many years ago – and just as often I get up and write them down. And to be honest, quite often if I don’t go back and read what I wrote, thus remembering how I felt the moment I wrote it (for the written word in my world evokes feeling more than anything), I wouldn’t remember them at all.

So one must wonder why our minds keep some but lose others. Could the ones we lose be little thoughts, scenarios so to speak, that our mind merely plays with to entertain itself in the realms of a time and place that is in the world of impossible? Maybe those are ones we shouldn’t remember, for they are the ideas and notions we will never see (feel, taste, touch, whatever the sense) - and it is one thing to think of something you’ve never felt and know you never will, quite another to know those feelings and miss them.

So which ones should you analyze (assuming any should be analyzed at all) – the ones that remain on the surface or the ones that never leave the depths, unless by accident. Is it the surface ones that tell us secrets or signs about our life? Or is it the ones deep from our subconscious, so deep it is not somewhere any of us ever consciously touch, that we should peer into and find answers?

How hard would it be on your mind and soul to touch that which was never meant to be touched?

I wonder if that is why some people go crazy…for some things just aren’t meant to be known.

Me Tales

I wonder who I would be if I could see me through your eyes. Who is the me you see? Do you see me as sweet with a touch of mean, or quite the opposite? Do you see me smart or dumb, shallow or deep; or maybe seductive or loyal or noncommital? Do you totally adore me or simply tolerate me? Am I the love of your life or your worst enemy?

There are so many me’s out there. I am different to each of you. Some of the time that happens naturally, sometimes intentionally. And the collision of all these me’s – that is the me that I see.

What if it isn’t you that tells your tale? What if that story – the story that is you – is something that is created and coerced by the hands of another? Could the power of persuasion really affect your story so much that it reads in a manner you never intended? How often do we share experiences with others, and their perception of the event is slightly (and sometimes dramatically) skewed from your own perception? So one might wonder at this point where truth lies in the copious details of our life. Who you are to me is probably quite different than who you are to anyone else.

Suppose for a second I could spin you a tale – a tale about you – that fits in quite nicely with how you perceive yourself. And suppose too that I used nothing more than logical fallacy to create this tale. Would you then become a slightly different person from who you were just moments before, for taking in this new information and molding it into the crevices of your mind creates a new version of you?

You don't have to buy into it, just think about it. Your story, the one you've created about yourself, isn't quite complete. Until it encapsulates the you that exist from every angle, it will never be more than a half-told tale. And those other angles, for all intents and purposes, exist in the minds of others.

Con-versations with Pooh

Me: What if the ghosts we see are actually other people having out-of-body experiences? 

Pooh: Hmmm…what if people with blue eyes see the same thing but differently than people with brown eyes…due to the different spectrum of color we look thru?

Me: And what if we think about thinking things, and if we can think it, there must be something to it right?

Pooh: Well if we are just thinking about thinking things, are we thinking about things or just thinking?

Me: I suppose we’d be thinking about things and those things would be thinks.

Pooh: Or thoughts that are being thunk...you know what I’m thinking? I’m thinking we can think up a thought about almost anything!

Me: I’m thinking your right. If we can manage to think about thinking thinks, we have no boundary on our thoughts.

Vu ja De'

Deja vu...those fun little moments in time that occur periodically throughout your life...

You might be doing something totally out of the ordinary, or it may be something you've done a thousand times over, when occasionally the elements line up perfectly and suddenly you realize you've been here before; you've done this before. These moments last but mere seconds, sometimes just a fraction of a second. The effects of this phenomena lingers a bit longer, as you marvel at the feeling - the feeling of totally and completely knowing that moment as it occurs. It's almost like watching a movie you'd forgotten you'd seen, when 3/4th's the way through, you realize you have and the image of the ending flashes before you. Almost I said...

I had one of these moments the other day come to think of it. I was standing in the same spot I always stand in when discussing issues with my boss. As a matter of fact, the issue itself wasn't even out of the ordinary; quite the opposite, it's a constant problem. So of course to say I've "been there before" is logical.  But then on the contrary, there are no two moments in time that completely and totally mirror each other. And I know there's some science out there that will back me up on that - I just couldn't tell you what it is exactly...

So in that moment I felt it, and I stopped for a second, trying to catch the sensation, to see what I was missing - why just then? Why not 2 seconds before? Or 2 seconds after? Or right now for that matter? And then, just as quickly as it came, it left. I tried to recapture it; replay it in my head; catch what processes were more or less active in my head...because I'm thinking that if I can capture that moment, why can't I capture them all? And better still - I can learn to capture them before they occur, and wouldn't that just be fun! Hey...we all have our pipe dreams, right?

At any rate, I mentioned it to my boss, the deja vu, and he says he heard there is no such thing - those moments are instead us touching the plane of a parallel universe (which really is a fun avenue of thought to explore, if you think about it). I concurred that was possible....or, I said, it was me knowing the future, but I wasn't aware that I knew it until it actually occurred. He stopped and said, "Wait a minute. That sounds interesting...say it again. I didn't quite catch it." (I'll admit I might have hammed up my use of useless words when I said it, haha). So I did, and he was going to think on it, just as I was going to think on his.

Because really, who knows what it is - why it's there - how to control it - if it has a purpose, like showing us there is more out there than what we see. The only thing I am sure of is there is a reason. It may not matter at the end of the day, but there is a reason.

I just try to glean anything I can (which isn't much) each time it happens (which is surprisingly often) then wander around in the unknown, as I add one more scrap of evidence to my pile. I may find an answer, I may not - either way, I'll enjoy the ride while I'm trying...

Souls and Spirits

I believe in soul mates. I also believe in kindred spirits. Hell, to be honest, I believe in everything. Or maybe it could better be said that I don’t discount anything. We, as humans, have created a system, tied together with these things we call words, that tell us what is real and what is not, and from early on most of us accept what we are told, where it fits into the scheme of who are, individually and collectively, and we don’t argue the minute details that might have been left out in order to make any idea solid. I decided very early in life to not accept what we have been taught as infallible, for I found too many “facts” along the way that debunked the Truth we have been spoon fed. It always seemed to me that Truth is something we each hold dear, but if you take my Truth and your Truth and His truth and Her truth out, lay them side by side, and compare them, they will not be consistent across the board. So for me, to say truth exists, I will concur, but I will caveat that with the idea that it is different for everyone.

But to get back to the topic at hand, I do firmly believe in soul mates and kindred spirits. And I further believe they are two different people (or many different people as the case may be). I have not had the occasion to determine if we each only have one soul mate, or if there are more than one that can fit that bill, but I will not argue the point that it is possible (for I also believe anything is possible). As for kindred spirits, I have known more than one in my life, so I will say that person in your life can be many people.

A soul mate, to me, is someone that is capable of knowing who you are no matter who you claim to be or who you project yourself to be with others. This is the one that can pull your insides out, lay them on a table and show you your true self. For many of us, the true self is a painful thing to see, for there are many things we are that we don’t necessarily “want” to accept, and quite often these are the things we do not like in others.  A soul mate can build you up to the pinnacle of what you could be, and further tear you down to the point of nothingness. This person is probably a hard person to spend your life with, for there are no walls they cannot penetrate, and we all need our walls. But it is good to know this person at least, for there are times in our lives when we need to be reminded of who we are truly. This is a person that can bring us back to our Truth, and smack us out of whatever reality we have created in our life.

A kindred spirit, on the other hand, is someone who shares our path in life. Of these there can be many, for there are only so many roads available for us to walk – and I say this with the eye of limitless possibilities. We will meet many people along our path, and a majority of these will at some point fork off our road to take another. But a kindred spirit will walk with you and share with you the way you envision the world. They may not be by your side always, but will always walk parallel with you. They will know you only as well as they know themselves, so they will not show you that which you deny, for they would have to recognize that denial in themselves also. They are the ones we are most comfortable with, for you recognize in them something of your own self. These are the ones that will smile when you smile and cry when you cry. Sadly, we probably have many we are totally unaware of, due to the constraints of space and time (two things I believe that were created by man to feel in control of life), but if we are lucky, we will know at least one of these people in our life.

So for these two people to be one in the same, I will argue that it is not possible. One person cannot hold the flames of a candle upright that burns at two ends. Only one side can stand up at a time. As close to similar as they may be, they are also quite the opposite. And if you are one of the few that has been blessed enough to have both in your life, you are quite lucky indeed.