The Meaning of Life (A Poem)

The Meaning of Life

For every breathe of life, there is a sigh of death.

For every act of kindness, there is an act of hatred.

For every moment of joy, there is one of sorrow.

For every beginning, there is an end.

The meaning of life encompasses these elements of reality. There’s a special sort of ebb-and-flow to the process. Something so ordinary at first glance; rapidly transitions to something so incredibly phantasmal and fantastical.

As our lives are ever weighed by the shifting times both ahead of us and behind us; our present-moment is ever morphing to adapt to the unseen trials and tribulations surrounding us.

Change is in the air, ever omnipotent and ever-present. Can you not feel it?

In your very bones, in your very soul and being. There’s something strange coming this way. And yet…there is also a hidden blessing in all of the chaos to ensue. A calling only you can answer.

It’s the call of the human experience.

When the world is faced with the coming dark hour, the cycle is preparing to start anew once more. As history repeats itself, so do we as a people.

For all of our glory and horrors, for all of our accomplishments and shame, and for all of our shared truths and deceptions – there is one constant reality to the universe around us.

Nothing ever stays the same.

Change is brewing.

A sense of immediate danger emits.

A silent hope bubbles above the surface.

Will you survive? Will I survive? What will become of our future?

Such are the questions of two love-birds who glide together for one last time before the currents of wind change their course forevermore. Even at this strange time in our world’s history – it is evident enough that history truly does repeat itself. Life for us has always been plagued with war and peacetime. Ever like a pendulum gliding back-and-forth ever so slowly.

Time is shifting.

You will be faced with many obstacles that will test everything you thought you stood for. You will begin to understand and see the world through new eyes. You’ll morph into a new person altogether, not familiar with the person you see from your reflection. Just like a pendulum too, you’ll eventually swing back to your old self. But for now, life is calling upon a darker self. A much more adaptable self.

Though the end is always inevitable, how will you change the world? For your future is just beyond the horizon…

Forever in Your Debt,

R.S. Noel

(Click anywhere on this sentence to view the photo credit!)

Featured

Two Different People; Two Separate Journeys

This piece was inspired by a recent whirlwind of events related to immense inner-growth. Without further delay, let me share a piece of my soul with you.

 

Two Different People; Two Separate Journeys

Down by the knurled tree, right of the curved stone wall, and left of the beach-sand; stand two very different men on two separate and unlikely journeys.

One is hardworking, dedicated to achieving greatness, and prepared for the unknown.

The other one, is carefree, unassuming and full of excitement and innocent joy.

But both men stare out towards the same horizon, as their life is yet on the cusp of a whirlwind of events.

The hardworking man is ready for anything, ready for nothing, and ready for all-the-in-between.

He’s prepared; and yet he also knows that nothing will truly prepare him for what is to come next.

The unmotivated man is ready to enjoy whatever journey life throws his way. In a sense, this man is more prepared for the vast unknown than the hardworking man.

That’s the excitement of life, not knowing if one is destined for greatness or if one is destined for dullness.

For that is the big hidden secret of life. Truth be told, there is no such thing as failure. There is only greatness and dullness.

Just as much as the hardworking man may be focused to succeed; the unmotivated man may very well be the one who is thrust into greatness. He has no time to prepare for such change. He knows not how to readjust his life.

Just as that very same hardworking man has made it his life’s goal to become the lead-man of this epic lore; the other man has yet to realize that the strange workings of life have gifted him with all of the worldly secrets he needs to fulfill such a magical destiny.

For that is what the hardworking man doesn’t fully understand.

Life is not about him, or her, or even them. It is not about how well you prepare yourself with education and indoctrination. No, it is about how well you prepare your mind, heart, and soul.

It’s about knowing when to make a move to benefit not only yourself, but those around you.

It’s about understanding that some days will be filled with treachery, lies, deceit, and deception.

It’s about accepting love and compassion into your heart even when your inner-life is filled with turmoil and rage.

The light of truth is one in which is basked in dark days.

The true light, is that in which we cannot see.

It is the light in which you and I are forever blind to; but can feel through divine glimpses and visions:

Ray of hope; wash away my woes.

Beautiful song-birds; mince my ordinary life with beautiful chimes.

Ocean breeze, come and engulf me in the unheard secrets and truths that rest within your depths.

In the depths of the unknown, I found hope.

In the calamity of the end-days, I began to feel a gusto of confidence and inner-strength I never knew existed in my soul.

In the singular sound of your distant voice, I found peace and solace once again. For in this moment of unique silence – I knew I wasn’t truly alone.

Forever in Your Debt,

R.S. Noel

 

Photo credits: (Click anywhere on this sentence to view the source for the picture used in this piece!)

Transformation

(Inspiration for this poetic piece, click me to listen to song)

Transformation

I feel myself disconnecting from who I am.

Who I am….

Who I…………..was?

I’m beginning to wonder: what’s wrong with me? 

Why am I losing pieces of myself?

Why are those pieces floating out of my consciousness like a stream of water flowing downstream at an unimaginably blinding speed?

I see you. 

I…..saw you?

I’m beginning to wonder if I’m starting to see you or if I’m beginning to see…….my own reflection?

Like a kaleidoscope of dizzying colors, my once dreary eyes are beginning to see the faint lights of ever-changing fates.

To see the potential of you and I. To feel the winds of unspoken truths caress my face with faulty lies.

I’ve begun to speak in my dreams of feverish nightmares borne of an indifference to what’s going on in our shared world.

I’ve begun to distance myself from who we are meant to be.

I’ve broken our promise.

I’m sorry.

I’m so incredibly sorry.

I feel like I failed who I was meant to be.

And yet…

Yet my future is bright.

What does that even mean?

Why do we cherish those who have “made it”?

One day.

One day, I swear on my very soul.

I will live my truth.

I will change this world, even if for just a flash of a moment.

I will change the collective consciousness of our society for just a second in history.

I will defend the honor of what it means to truly survive and thrive in this world, I will remind myself of why I still breathe.

No doubt the best of humanity dies young; for the old and aging continue to live and support this world full of deception and abuse. I should know, I’m becoming such a thing. Such a creature of the night.

Why haven’t I ended it all for myself?

I don’t feel suicidal. That’s likely the reason why. But still…why am I playing along with this game?

I can’t stop myself either. I’m filled with determination unlike anything of this world. But…why? Why am I so competitive? Why am I so determined? Even though I don’t wish to be, I just am?

Confusing thoughts spiral in my mind as a wave of over-confidence washes over me…or is it doubt?

But I’m not indecisive; though I wish I was at this moment.

I wish I was more confused than I’m playing it out to be.

I wish I could come up with some excuse; some tainted truth.

Thoughts intertwined with hallowed emotions. I don’t actually feel anything at this moment. I’ve become numb. And yet, my heart still beats? It beats with life, with the ever-pulsing rhythm of life.

Why has our world succumb to such devastation and derelict woes?

Why, why, why, why, why, why.

Our voices are drowned out, our opinions are non-existent, and our stories will forever be untold.

The truth will forever glimmer in the moonlit sky like a long-forgotten wish. The truth will flicker as a lone candle does in the dead of night. The truth will be unseen like the silent bird which has no voice to sing. The truth will exist, but only for itself alone. It will never be comforted, never be hugged with delight or cherished for its unique characteristics. It will never be able to shine so brightly that the sun, and the moon, and all the stars are meaningless to the bountiful life on Earth.

The truth will forever remain unclaimed. Forever untouched and despised. For truth brings inconvenience. It fosters a sense of hostility between two souls. It reminds all of us of our inevitable death. It reminds us that life is so precious; yet we are wasting it away day-in-and-day-out by working away at a job which holds no meaning to our true community; our true loved-ones.

The truth is harsh.

It is cruel and cold.

Like the nights of cold-sweat drenching your body; it is unforgiving and relentless. Like the days full of addiction and of growing numbness to life; rejection of truth brings about the calamity of your very existence. Like the darkening sky full of dread, or the mysterious secrets veraciously biting away at your soul as you try and reason and bargain with darker realities. Truth untouched is like a baby without her mother. It is like an unheard cry in the middle of nowhere. It is like the blood-thirsty eyes of a feral creature ready to devour it’s prey.

It is like the breaking of glass, as the world comes shattering down upon the weight of our lies.

But…

Once acknowledge and accepted; truth transforms it’s once ugly disguise into a beautiful soul.

Dancing in the light of day, truth can once again show us the way to salvation and holiness.

It can help us become worthy of being named children of goodness. Children of the righteous path – even if it isn’t always the easiest one.

Truth……

Truth can set us free again.

Forever in Your Debt,

R.S. Noel

 

Source of photo: (click me to view picture credits)

An Open Letter to the Universe

Hello world, it’s R.S. Noel just checking-in to see how things are going in the world currently.

I wonder…why are there so many possibilities? Why is there ab endless array of choices to choose from? There’s a bottomless list of items, destinations, and places I’ve yet to venture to – because, I’ve been so enraptured by the things I still feel are necessary to do before I ever get to that point in life. I’ve started so many things recently in my life, and oddly enough; I don’t feel overwhelmed this time around. I actually feel productive and ready to take on the world with all of its painful and glorious moments.

Feeling productive is certainly not the same as being enslaved by our limitless efforts to  find some semblance of peace in our lives; or is it? There are people who are less fortunate then me, and then, there are many other people who are more fortunate then us. I wonder, what is our lot in this life? To toil away for the rest of our days, to break our bodies down over time due to the natural progression of life? Certainly there is something more out there, or is there…?

Maybe it really is all about perspective. Maybe it truly does come down to “in the eye of the beholder.” Whatever each of us, on an individual level, seeks out in life will depend greatly on our secret wishes, dreams, and desires.

But then, there are those moments. Ah yes, those moments of complete and utter bewilderment, confusion, and delusion. I begin to feel myself slowly drifting off into nothingness, barely holding onto the single metaphorical piece of wood which accompanies me down this stream which leads to the vast unknown.

Oddly enough; in this moment of immense uncertainty, I feel more connected with the world and the universe then I have ever felt before. In this moment of absolute distortion and chaos, I see the world. I see what is and what was. I see the beauty of friendship and camaraderie grow like a wild rose in the plains of heaven. I see the injustice and cruelty of cold, callous hearts, and all of the injustices thrown onto the people of this physical world. I see the lines of society blur between the lines of humanity, for better and for worse. I see marriage between two souls forever intertwined in a moment of inescapable blessings and curses. I see the mingling of darkness veiled within the expanse of light. I see the truth, no matter the mood.

So I say on this finite note, the many esoteric words no other human dares speak.

Why are you willingly allowing the world to change who you are? Who are you even? You should be changing the world, not the other way around. There are no excuses, there are no good reasons. You must steady your hand and stand tall for what you believe in. Take your convictions and grow a garden of life, not of evil. Don’t be afraid of the darkness either, for both light and dark create the equilibrium of life. Always remember however, to tread carefully.

Lest you get lost in the void of no-return. Then, and only then, will you forever lose yourself within the abysmal and unfamiliar darkness of surreal realities…

 

Forever in Your Debt,

R.S. Noel

 

Source of Photo (Click Me for Photo Credits)

Arkanim: Tales of the Enlightened Ones

Hello everyone! It’s me R.S. Noel coming to you with another post. For today, I’m going to make it short and also provide another excerpt from Arkanim: Tales of the Enlightened Ones. This is another work-in-progress book that I’ve been writing for a while now. To be honest, this is the very first work-in-progress book I had originally started on when I was young. But through the years, growing-up got the better of me, and I had put this story aside.

Now, however, it’s come into my life once again.

 

The following is a work-in-progress by me, R.S. Noel. I hold and maintain all the rights for the work presented below. Thank you for your interest and understanding. Enjoy!:

 

It was growing. All around her, she could hear the sounds of light footsteps, of silent windy whispers gliding through the jungle’s vines, of the many different sounds of nature that were now engulfing the foreigners. Rhea couldn’t distinguish between what noise belonged to a human and what noise belonged to the wild life of these unruly jungles.

There was no doubt in her mind that they were being watched closely, it was only a matter of time before something immensely uncertain happened.

Rhea could hear Merthus beginning to breath slightly faster now as the boy had undoubtedly noticed the subtle changes in the Flurrus Jungle as well. Rhea wished at this very moment that she could just comfort the small child, but she knew that it was hopeless to even pretend that everything was all right. She knew that they just needed to survive through this experience. Their lives had become nothing more than the basic instinct of survival. Nothing else mattered; just their willpower to make it out of this mess alive.

Moving a bit quicker through the narrow path they were walking upon, Rhea could tell that Zante was increasingly growing worried as he appeared to turn his head slightly left and right from time to time. Rhea knew that the man was surely trying to figure out if the hidden Urksinians were going to show themselves right now or not.

She knew now at this very moment that Zante Qitzo truly did care for their wellbeing. If Rhea had any doubts before, they were put to rest as her eyes maintained a steady gaze on the back of Zante’s head. This was the only thing that Rhea could manage to look at, as she feared trying to avert her gaze even slightly away towards the noises that were only continuing to grow around her. It would only serve to bring more trouble to them.

In the distance from this curving road riddled with dark soil, Rhea could see two large arching gates that were closed shut. She could not see beyond that point, as there appeared to be plenty of large vines and roots covering the otherwise visible sight of the village certainly behind the gates.

Some of Rhea’s hair covered her face lightly now, as a tailwind swept to the left side of her. She knew that this was no natural occurrence. Her eyes grew wide with fascination. Someone was running unimaginably fast now behind the veil of the thick jungle life to her left. Rhea did not dare to remove her hair from her face, as she now looked dead straight ahead without even entertaining the thought that she could look elsewhere. Her eyes were wide with paralyzed fear. She knew her inner fear was showing, and she cursed very silently underneath her breath as she wished for nothing else but to hide such vulnerable emotions.

It was without question that Rhea, Merthus, and Dasca were simply not welcomed here. Even before she had seen any of the Urksinians within the village of Kinkuly itself, Rhea was now starting to understand the workings of different people from different parts of the world.

As the group neared closer to the heavily vegetated gates that surely led into the village of Kinkuly, Rhea could see four guardsmen standing ever so silently amongst the vines. Rhea had not seen them before, and likely because they were wearing armor that was the same shade of green as the verdant gates. She was in awe at how unmoving they were, better than statues. Certainly the messenger that Zante had sent ahead of them had let these guardsmen know that they were nearing the village. And by they, Rhea knew she was thinking more along the lines of Dasca, Merthus, and herself.

Gorgirians were not exactly on friendly terms with Urksinians.

Rhea could feel the intensity of those behind her, as she momentarily shut her eyes to allow her fears to subside just a little more.

Then, that’s when it happened.

Jumping from the many trees that were grouped tightly together on both sides of the narrow path – came down about nine native Urksinians. They all appeared intimidating and full of untapped energy. Most of them were men, broad shouldered and towering in size. About two of them were Urksinian women, still equally intimidating with their bulging muscles and unfamiliar physiques.

Yet it was one of the Urksinian men that started to walk straight up to Zante that really caught Rhea’s fearful attention. This man had the broadest of shoulders amongst the newfound Urksinians, thick arms the size of tree trunks, and powerful legs that could likely crush even a newborn gorgus.

He landed squarely in front of Zante as he stared at the man with an unflinching gaze that appeared to bulge out with deep hatred. “Zante Qitzovena’lu hega nemno qora-dod belsion!” [Zante Qitzo…you’ve come back home with slaves in tow!].

Though Rhea had no idea what this unknown new man had just said, she could tell Zante was guarding any sign of emotions as he responded back clearly and with a deepened voice. “Jersde leme’neleno, cirlee; nem belsion.” [They are foreigners, guests; not slaves].

 

Forever in Your Debt,

R.S. Noel

 

Source of Photo: (Click Me to View Photo Credits)

A New Writer

To be a new writer is to be born into this world for the first time ever.

It is to experience the wonders of such light and dark places. It is a thrill, a wave of feelings and emotions which drown you until you are reborn again, over and over. The process never changes, and the feelings never fade away. Yet new emotions will always take over old ones; making your heart beat wildly with silent joy, with unheard excitement, with untold fears. It all builds up in momentum and tempo, as you begin your journey with gusto and zeal.

To be a new writer means to stumble and make mistakes. Mistakes, however, that need to be made. Because without mistakes, there is no progress. Without imperfections, you will never attain the true potential housed deep within your heart, soul, and mind. To stumble recklessly and with feverish devout, is to be a new writer.

To find your voice, and your path, is what makes us new writers.

To see other people for the first time; to really see them, is what makes us new writers. 

We may never meet, yet I feel as though I’ve known you my whole life. We share an interest, a singular experience known to us as writing. What makes us so unique is this experience alone. We are the scholars of the world, the educators of generations yet to come into existence, and the dreamers for those who are not fortunate enough.

We teach others what life is truly all about. To remind people that if we were to lose everything; society, materialism, structure – all that is left is us.

Us; who have felt naked and lost for centuries upon centuries.

Us; who have been misunderstood by those who are not in-touch with their human emotions and thoughts.

Us; the truth seekers of the very fabrications that make up our collective existence.

This is what it means to be a new writer.

It is, to be human.

This picture you see in the header, is the very same one I took one year ago when I embarked on my final journey to become a writer for life. I’ve never looked back since that day I made this singular promise with myself. Life has never been the same since then.

I can feel the sun’s rays falling on my shoulders as I make my way down this familiar path.

This place, which I will not name, is the single place I come to whenever I have the free time to do so. To be able to wonder and imagine all the different worlds and lives I can experience life through. To be lucky enough to see different people for who they truly are at the core of their beings. To find strange and quizzical creatures who have a mind of their own. The gardens I get to walk through are timeless, the forests I can explore with my imagination take me to places I never knew existed; and most importantly, the lakeside that resides in this mysterious place holds a special place in my soul.

I can only imagine what life would be like if I never began writing.

I would probably never know the true meaning of friendship, or the real depths of hard-earned love. I would have never sought out to make a difference in this sometimes very estranged world. I would have never felt the need to stop time in my life and truly work on the only thing that has ever held any relevance in the world of reality.

Because in the end, all that really matters is you and I.

Don’t you ever forget yourself, or the power you hold inside. Because at the end of the day, only our memories and emotions for those who have passed, and for those who have yet to come, are the only things in life worth fighting for.

Forever in Your Debt,

R.S. Noel

Photo credit: (picture taken by me)

An Ode to Her Soul

The soul of her existence inspired life in me.

The energy of her presence reminded me of the true meaning of life’s quarrels.

Her unique aura reminded me of a time when chaos and harmony clashed together to create beautiful and wicked life as it once was before.

Her doubts and insecurities reminded me that we’re all just humans full of emotions which I may never fully understand and will never completely appreciate.

But my manhood is the compliment of her womanhood. Her soul is the Yin and my mind is the Yang. Her ethereal being is the light to my darker reality which I will never show her. Her blossoming life force is what attracts people to gather together and become happier. My life force reminds people of the necessary harshness of our natural world and order.

My coarse hands interlace with her soft and reassuring palms. Her existence is both significant to me and a nuisance. For she is both as necessary as the air we breathe; and ironically so, she is also the metaphorical pain in my heart reminding me that we must deal with emotions even if we wish emotions could just disappear.

Her emotional intelligence far exceeds my mathematical mindset. Her natural intuition senses things I’ll never see. In contrast, the man’s perception of the physical life we live will never quite phase her own life force. For her heart is beyond the physical manifestations of our being. Woman is not of bleak reality. No, she is of boundless creativity ready to burst open at the seams with unapologetic life.

Yet she also has a strange way of keeping me grounded when I begin to try and live past the physical manifestation of this existence. For I will never know the world a woman lives in; and I’ve accepted that I am okay with such a truth.

I will never know her secrets, her wisdom, her thoughts, or her own personal desires for a truly balanced life.

But in that same regard, she will never know the secrets I know, the adventures I go on, or the memories created. She will never know the many loves of my life. For even though she is a huge part of my life- she isn’t my entire life. I appreciate her existence and presence, but I also must have my own space just as much as she needs hers.

I feel selfish, and I wish I didn’t feel this way.

But life is about the golden memories we create, not the overarching society. It’s about enduring through the pains and heartache and remembering that as a man, I can’t afford to stop and remorse for lost loved ones.

For the same society that hinders her personal freedoms, also forbids my emotions and thoughts. For she may not realize it yet; but her existence far exceeds my own. She is the bearer of all human life, and I am merely a man. A man who can certainly do great things; but does not care for pandering to the society which holds us all back.

For I champion not my own success, but the success of brighter and smarter individuals. We are all faced with adversity, and in this ever-changing world full of automation and machine; I have reverted back to being human. I have been reminded of the true world of possibilities and imagination once again. It rests with humans, not with machines.

Through these last couple of years, I’ve come to realize that a woman’s life is full of so many interesting, sad, funny, horrifying, amazing, unique, and miscellaneous moments. Her existence is one of pure good and evil. She lives knowing the truth of our being, knowing that humans are her children to raise. To know that the world will one day take her children’s innocence away without her consent or forewarning. She knows that all of her loved ones will fade away, and one day, she will find herself alone and reminded of our boring, bleak, and uneventful reality.

But unlike man; she will also have her own secret memories to cherish forevermore through time immemorial.

And moreover, she still has purpose in her life. She will guide the hand of the misguided, the abandoned, and the forgotten. For she will remain steadfast in her judgment of what’s truly right and what is wickedly wrong. For even though my own judgment may be clouded by unchanging circumstances a man must go trough in his life; she will fight with a voice mightier than any lion; louder than any howling wind, and more potent than any poison. For her words sting the hardest, grow the thickest, and blossom the brightest. For she has a way with her presence that sways me to secretly believe her every word. Love has a funny way of blinding a man from otherwise obvious signs of danger or misgivings.

I know she will never truly understand a man’s world – but at the end of the day, as long as we both know that our love burns brightly in this small moment in time; then I can live with the fact that we may never see each other again.

My days are filled with meaning only because of her joy. My sorrows only exist because of her true and feigned emotions. My heart only beats due to the boundless love and bottomless anger she makes me feel at times. It’s passion, and I don’t know what I would do without her love. I would find another, and another, and another. For I could never live without a woman’s love. A woman’s love is the purest form of love there is in the world. She may not realize it right now, but her heart and her thoughts are what makes this world magical again.

We see eye-to-eye and understand that we will forever be at-odds. She understands we have roles to play; temporary parts to a fading play. She knows that this lifetime is short, so she makes the best of her days. I may have just realized my own mortality; but she knew of death the moment she realized she could create life.

I could go on about my admiration and amazement at woman’s existence; but I won’t. I know she understands our existential manifestation, and our never-ending love for passion. She knows man is nothing with woman, and in that same regard- even if she never voices it; she understands that life would be meaningless without man’s toil and aggression.

But in the end, when the curtains of this fading play finally drape down at the end; I will die knowing that I’ll never find another one of her. She was my first love, and she’ll forever be my last.

 

Forever in Your Debt,

R.S. Noel

 

Source of photo: (click me to view photo credits!)