A Visit To A Friend

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The
tiniest
of
last year’s
memories
dance
and skip
around
in delicate
tones;
color-coded
and
in tune with
an
orchestra’s
beginning
note.
This
week’s
plan
to visit you
is overdue,
and
I’m
just
going to
spend
a
few nanoseconds
of time
figuring
out
how
to truly
reach,
stretch,
and fold
my love
into
you when
I
see
you.

M.C. Davis

Motivation To Run Faster

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Every now and then, our motivation drops.

We stop, drop, and remain on the couch without the thought to go beyond the moment. It’s comfortable we tell ourselves, or my body aches from the last time we jetted off to be productive. We also tell ourselves that we deserve to sit there quietly without the noise of the world around us to bother us.

Let’s say for a moment that in that split second between getting up and staying put, we get another option to do both. We get the magical option to literally fall into a million pieces: several pieces of you to do the hard and tiring work of the day, and several pieces of you to lay on the proverbial couch without a care in the world.

In this instance, life would be full of possibilities right?

We could, and most likely with much pleasure,  tell our hardworking pieces to get up at o’ dark 30 to start work, get a nice workout, drive into work to complete the most productive 20-hour workday ever known to Man. Then, report back home to clean the house from top to bottom. Meanwhile back at the ranch, the other pieces of you would get to lounge around like a full-time job, eating from the fridge at will, and never letting the couch get too cold from all the hard work of lounging around.

Still productive right?

Well, yes. 

So, the point of this is to show that no matter which path you choose, we are all the paths at any given time. We all have the ability to literally waste away our days,  or be the most productive human to walk this Earth.  Each path has its own level of either being productive or not. It is literally in the packaging of our day that truly makes us successful or not. It is the care-taking of our persistent walk that strengthens us to have enough momentum to grab onto the next day with the same intensity each and every time.

So, the next time you get the motivation to run faster, do so. When you also get the motivation to sit down, do so. Do all of it with your heart and never give into the thought that there’s a ticking time bomb that will blow you up if you falter from either decision.

Every now and then our motivation drops, and it’s okay.

M.C. Davis

Left And Right

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Whenever I’m in the mood for writing, I think constantly about the flow of traffic between one sentence to the next. Most times, I’m engaged entirely on the ability to let my words be themselves; forgetting the grammar bug and allowing enough room for a slight breeze to tangle in between the adjectives that often, and without too much trouble, drag themselves into the spotlight full of flare and glamor.

Every once in a while, I’ll close my eyes and fantasize about the beginning urge to write.  This sensation gives me the green light to start the first letter of a sentence, or the last word in a poem. This is the romance of being a writer of any kind. Writers get the chance to explore the impact statement, and the characters that fall deep in between the wedges of thought. Writers get the chance to draw with multiple colors, and layer them with black and white overtones. Writers, for the same reason we exist, get the chance to break even without even spending a dime.

So, whenever I’m in the mood for writing, I stop and let nature take her course. She is, after all, responsible for dotting all those i’s and crossing all those t’s when necessary.

M.C. Davis

On Being A Comforter

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Experience has shown me that being a comforter is never as easy as one may think.

In fact, it’s damn right hard at times to not only comfort the ones you clearly love, but also learning how to be truly honest in the ability to comfort oneself.  It often involves sensitive “soft” tools that are often too heavy to carry, or in some cases and too light to even notice that they are there. It’s a balancing act only gained by the experience of years promised, or the fact that once we go beyond ourselves it becomes increasingly painful to let things simply exist when met for the second time. For once in my life I’m extremely apologetic in my ability to juggle both the avenue of catering to emotions, and the delicate walk of catering to my own emotions.

Really.

It’s about not losing Truth North or finding enough weight in the things that really matter. It’s also about being vulnerable and allowing the lights to shine in between the noise, the illusions, and the small things that simply exist for color. Being a comforter involves active listening beyond the ears. You have to listen like a musician would listen to a Chopin piece, or a Bach piece where even the layering of notes above the notes may not clue you in to the finite details. So, listen when I tell you that being a comforter never starts with the outside influences, but deep down inside the internal mechanisms that draw you closer to yourself.

M.C. Davis

Growing Hurts

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Most of us know that when a thing grows, it splits and tears in itself until a new growth is gained–typically stronger and more resilient to the touch. During this process, a thing give itself the strength and tolerance to endure the pain in growing, just to fully take in the reward when its new tougher outer shell shines in the light of the day. Muscles, plants, seeds and the such take part in this ritual on a daily basis. Their orchestral makeup of growth will often stem from a small ensemble to a symphony of colors surrounding this metamorphosis. I’m sure many us never fully understand or appreciate the spectacular emotion it takes to decide to grow beyond ourselves.

I’m no expert, but perhaps growing is a process that gives us hope and a ‘try, try,  and try again’ mindset to overcome not only our toughest hurdles in life, but the ever-so-present reminder that nothing in life comes without a cost. Everything must be earned right? By virtue of free will, our minds are free to explore every option, choice, decision, or indecision that life presents. We choose to grow vice being told to grow right? We come to a pass in life where the only option is to grow right? Every choice is yet again a reminder that for every torn muscle, a promise is renewed in how we grow stronger the next time we face a challenge. I believe this is life’s way of challenging us to seek and stretch even beyond what we think we’re capable of doing.

So yes, growth hurts but let the pain be a testament to the amount of patience and care you take in forcing the hard issues through even harder times. We’re very lucky, just like those muscles, plants, and seeds to intimately know the difference between where we are to where we should be.

M.C. Davis

Without Those Things

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I’d be lost without those things that remind me of us.

I’d be absolutely still and unmoved without those things that create the sense of urgency for my cells to vibrate in the key of F Major.

I wouldn’t have faith if it were not for your smile guiding my heart to the Universe, and gearing my soul for the long ride ahead.

I’d be left unchanged if it were not for those things that you bring without being asked.

See, I’m just head over heels in love with these things we create together. I’m never without you, and I’m fascinated in the path you’ve created for us.

M.C. Davis

The Layers In Between

We all have an innate desire to be better understood.

Right?

I mean, if we’re allowed to be the critical thinkers and the established intellectuals the Universe has intended us to be, then why shouldn’t we be afforded every opportunity to be heard and understood. Often, we get caught up in the weeds during  a conversation, and we let ourselves be distracted by the undertones and layers in between the words being sp0ken. We let ourselves focus more on the way someone is speaking, vice what they are actually saying to us. Often, we get too intoxicated with the notion of a conversation vice actually being a direct link within a conversation.

You feelin’ me?

When I was younger, I used to think about how I spoke to folks around me. Of course, I used to stutter like it was nobody’s business, so part of my therapy was to literally and figuratively muster up the courage to hear and visualize the words being spoken out of my mouth. It became an amazing experience  for me, and for once in my life, I was garnered the tools and ability to think critically in how I spoke.  See, I wanted desperately to be heard, but more importantly, I simply wanted to be understood. Fast forward many years later, and I’m the Big Kahuna employed by a telemarketing company  working my chops everyday in convincing folks across this great land of ours to lay down their credit cards to buy a few more knick-knacks, bargains, and otherwise cluttered items for their homes.

It was there that I found my speed, and fell in love again with the idea of proving that I could persuade with the best of them. In other words, it was here where I first started to hear myself through myself in very much the same method and manner that I used to hear myself when  I was younger.

So, for a moment, think out loud and let your words fly into the noisy traffic lanes we’ve inadvertently created for ourselves. You may be surprised in what comes your way when the right words are said to the person who really needs to hear them the most.

M.C. Davis

The Bromantic Tree

So, we’ve all been there. Well, we guys at least.

Waiting in some boring line, thinking of what to cook, er…um, prepare for dinner and then it hits you!

Man, what’s so-and-so up to these days?

So, quite naturally, you open up your speedial on your incredibly tech-savvy phone and voila! His name appears, you press, and Mr. Ear and Ms. Dialtone make out a bit in between a commercial break…

For a moment or two, your heart sinks. Hesitation finds her way to your throat.

So, if this has ever happened to you, you just may have experienced a slight tinge of a Bromance.

bro·mance
  [broh-mans, broh-mans] noun
a relationship or friendship between two men that is extremely close but does not involve sex.

Here are five rules that will not only keep that bromance fresh and ready for that next football tailgate, but it will maintain the haters at a distance so that you can live and let live with your finely tuned bromance:

1. Never let your bromance become more than what it is. You need to ensure that simplicity necessitates simplicity. In other words, keep it simple all the time. All the time.

2. If applicable, learn to balance out the girlfriend time with the bromance time. Meaning, don’t call in sick with the girlfriend, then 1 hour later update your Facebook with you and yo’ boy painting the town red. Not a good deal.

3. If you find yourself getting mad from a non-returned phone call or text from your bromance, just chill. Everyone is entitled to flail around a bit, which usually ends up with a few ditzy moments of missed calls.

4. Now, here’s the tricky part.  A bromance just may involve sleeping in the same bed, especially if there are no other suitable sleeping arrangements. You know…after a drunken night of debauchery and the such. The tricky part is really with the infamous divider. A pillow, another sheet, or anything that can separate you two from touching or any perceived touching will suffice and should be utilized.

5. And lastly, being the wingman is essential. No matter what happens, you have no choice but to be the wingman if requested. If he asks, respect the many layers of your friendship and step in the role to take one for the team. This is a huge step in the bromantic tree.

So, hang in there and if you haven’t learned anything from this post, know this:

What happens on a bromantic date, stays on the bromantic date.

Jus’ sayin’…

M.C. Davis

Lessons From Our Spanish Neighbors

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Recently, I’ve been on a bit of a vacation.

No, not the usual mental vacation I run to on the daily, but an actual vacation that utilizes a passport, a sandy beach, and enough cervesa to layer up a few trips to Mars and back. So, please excuse me if this post comes with a certain swagga’ of siesta tied phrases, or a few adjectives that go beyond the call of duty in making you feel like you too are fresh from a vacation.

Or two.

So, let me begin by saying that if you have the chance to travel to Spain, do it. Barcelona, in particular, is a very sultry architectural wet dream of a city, with a culture that’s mind-blowing with amazing detail for the beauty that most cities either ignore completely, or over saturated beyond any recognition to the average eye.

The streets were filled with cobble stoned tourists, colors of all shapes and sizes, and enough poetry to fill up your favorite black hole deeply placed in space. As we walked through every crevice of the city, we found ourselves getting lost on purpose, then not, then again. Even though I’ve been to Barcelona a few times before, every turn felt original to the touch in an almost sadistic, velvety kind of experience.

La Sagrada Familia found herself with a few more bricks, concrete, and marble pieces in place–which was nice to see. We had the luxury of living within the city’s breathing space, swallowing deeply the same air as neighbors gossiping on the stoop, little ladies walking Spanish-speaking dogs; and of course, small plazas that dare you constantly to keep walking without stopping for a cervesa, vino, or a look into the movements of a neighborhood.

Small Tapas restaurants drew us from our romantic journey with amazing visceral treats–and for those who know me, you know how I am with food. We were able to visit the awesomeness of Monseratt, situated on the bluff of a mammoth of a mountain. If those early monks of yesteryear only knew that a coffee stand–not Starbucks, thank God–now stands in the same spot they once worshipped. Later, a countryside train ride proved yet once again the versatility of Barcelona’s beauty and often misunderstood relationship with nature.

Thinking back now, it was dreamy and a romantic adventure with a city and a country that has skipped every step of the love machine with me.

So, get yourself away from your own space and enjoy the space of another neighbor. Preferably, a neighbor who only speaks Spanish, and is enjoying the moment just as much as you are.

M.C. Davis