Keeping the Dream

sun setting
orange across the horizon
my eyes watching
lingering on distant light

missing you

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
(wrote this for my sister)

The world needs dreamers, and the world needs doers, but most of all the world needs dreamers who do.

~Sarah Ban Breathnach

Until every heart is filled with peace
and every life touched with grace,
I hold a candle of remembrance
for you and for everyone involved in any way.

May God send compassion on us all.

Just because I like to write songs of hope and inspiration, doesn’t mean that’s how all my days are. Like many people, and like most survivors of abuse, I deal with depression. Not that I just get depressed, but *depression*.

Some things occur in my life that can trigger those cavernous feelings of pain, and blanket it with a paralyzing numbness. When it does these are moments that seem to stand still. I think that can be a kind of hell, when the pain you feel engulfs you completely and there’s no sense of time moving forward and you truly feel cut off from everyone and everything.

These are the moments when it’s best to have family or friends, even one will do, that you can reach out to…or who will reach in to you, when you are rendered totally still. An in-the-flesh person is best, but I have found that even cyber friends can be incredible blessings. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, someone on the other side of the world or in another time zone or even a friend who likes to be up at all hours of the night, can touch you and in that touching, pull you through.

It’s like weight lifting. When you have a spotter, often all they have to do is lift a fraction of a pound of all the weight you are trying to bench press and you can push the weight all the way up to the top. But without that tiny shift, you may find yourself stuck in mid air, not up and not down, until your arms give out and the weight comes down hard and you lie there pinned.

I don’t know how universal deep depression is. I know it’s human to get depressed and discouraged, and there’s times, I’m sure everyone feels like giving up. But the depression I’m talking about goes further than that. It’s the kind where you could just not exist, where that possibility is the only thing in what could be called your life that would look appealing, if appealing is even the correct word.

I’m not talking about suicide or attempting suicide. That’s active. It’s taking some kind of step, albeit destructive. It’s some kind of control. I’m talking about being okay with just not existing.

Perhaps it’s the stagnant aspect of the situation that’s the most toxic.

Any kind of movement is a savior. Putting words to paper. Reading a MySpace blog of a friend or of someone you don’t know, but who has written something that touches you. A long distance CPR.

Here’s a poem I wrote one night, when I was in such a place. It didn’t start out as a poem, but as it took shape it took a hold of me, too, and after the last word, I found myself sleepy. That, too, is movement. And in the morning, it was a new day.

*******************************

Some Nights
© 2007 Demian Yumei

Some nights are filled with despair,
when the sorrow in your heart keeps you awake
so that sleep can offer no respite.

Some nights I’m left with wondering
how I will make it,
when I second guess words spoken.

Some nights clash with anger and remorse
and I find myself standing
among no winners.

I wonder why I always seem to end up in the same place,
wonder if I am ever meant to be at home anywhere.

Perhaps some hearts are meant to be hermits,
searching endlessly
for a cave to take refuge,
even as they long
for the very touch they succeed in avoiding.

Some nights,
no matter how many songs I write or sing,
I am left mute.

Sometimes miracles aren’t about parting the waters, but just not getting your feet wet.

A most amazing story about a remarkable person and his Microscopic Art. “Microscopic” is not just a creative adjective. Some of his pieces as a big as a blood cell.

I was at work watching the news when I came across this story. And while I was fascinated by his art, it was Willard Wigan’s spirit and his ability to transform what would have been a handicap to many into the impetus for greatness that absolutely captured me.

To watch a video about Willard and his art go here: http://abcnews.go.com/Video/playerIndex?id=3298352

Here’s another shorter video url: http://abcnews.go.com/Video/playerIndex?id=3297218

This amazing artist said he started when he was five. He said he has a learning disability and can’t read or write, and needed to find a way to express himself. He said his teachers made him feel like he was nothing. He said he’s trying to prove to the world that “nothing” doesn’t exist.

I smiled when the news caster said Willard Wigan just sold his entire life’s work for 20 million dollars. Probably just a tad more than what his teachers were making.

But more than that, was the enormous satisfaction this man is now receiving from the reactions of astonishment and wonder from others. What a big change from the disdain he must have received as a child, and all through his remarkable spirit and perseverance.

A comment by Patricia on Nick Watt’s blog says it all.

Mr. Wigan is sculpting his art for all of us who were made to feel “small” or made to feel like “nothing” growing up. He’s simply echoing what the Universe says and that is that each of us, every one of us, is not only SOMEthing, but a HUGE SOMETHING, a work of brilliant art, a holy sculpture, a blessed human being. Thank you Willard Wigan, and God Bless You!

Do all you can with what you have, in the time you have, in the place you are.

Nkosi Johnson
Twelve-year-old Zulu boy, living with AIDS

From a list I’m on: www.gratefulness.org

So easy to get discouraged
to live in dismay
to turn off
to run and hide
to seek refuge in apathy or fanaticism
to succumb to a sense of helplessness and fall into despair.

To be so empty to become full our ourselves
and nothing else

So easy to despair
which is why we can’t do it.

Because we…the earth and our children deserve better.
Because we were not made to lie down and die…or to kill each other.

Because we were made to paint,
to dance and sing,
to raise families or be part of one,
to explore the vastness of our world and the fullness of our hearts,
to use our minds to discern our actions and impact on each other and the environment,
to live with dignity and when the time comes
to die with grace.

There are already people living like this,
and a choice that is open to one is open to all…or, at least, enough to make a difference.

And the bottom line is if it’s a choice I can make,
it doesn’t matter if others are or not.

I’m responsible for me and what I bring to life.

And so I believe, steadfastly and hesitantly,
stubbornly refusing to become the cynic
a part of me already is,
but to go beyond it,
taking it lovingly with me,
to a place of healing,
as I hold this vision of a world of peace,
filled with people living meaningful lives
with more than tolerance, but reverence
for the earth and for each other.

I don’t need to know how it will all turn out.
I don’t need to have all the answers.

I just need one - mine.
And I choose to keep the dream
by living as much of it as I can.

Demian,
~DreamSinger