Untold Conscious Stories

While working one day I met a lady at my job who shared her love for painting, and it stood out to me deeply because I also produce art in written form. As we spoke about art, the love expressed alone showed how much life we carried within us and how much we had to give. Feeling inspired, I asked her to paint something influenced only by my words, my actions, and who I am. What she created was a beautiful piece filled with meaning, and interpreting the life within her work inspired me to write this piece in return. I n the depths of Jamaica a boy sat still while the river spoke Water carried stories Lignum Vitae poured life and birds stitched joy into the air with songs older than names Then came a woman woven of wisdom smiling, singing passing like memory on sand He called out She looked once said everything in four words Young man, you’re a sage And walked on Confusion lingered but the river kept moving So did he carrying the seed of knowing without yet knowing Time unfolded One day ...

As I was in Costa Rica, the way people live stood out to me tremendously. It showed me a way of life where  people continue to move forward, not in a rush, but in rhythm with what life is doing around them. They accepted everyone, and they lived with a sense of peace that came from understanding something simple yet profound. The essence of time is beyond our control. All we truly have is the moment. So, they express love by simply being who they are. I f time were real you’re in New York and London is five hours ahead, why don’t we just call and ask what’s happening in the future? Wouldn’t it be beautiful if it were that easy? Life is simple, but it is not easy. The beauty lives in simple things, like waking up each day and seeing the sun shine. A place with no routine, no schedule. A life beyond the physical, beyond what most can imagine. But there is a place. A place without clocks, without schedules, where people move with the day, letting it carry them where it may, creating s...

Sitting in stillness, I realize how blessed we are. Looking past the noise of technology and seeing the ones who do the groundwork, whether under the hot sun or in the rainstorm. They find joy in their purpose, giving love through the work of their hands, providing not just for themselves but for all of us. Thinking of the farmers something touched my soul, and I felt called to write this in appreciation. A reminder that they give from love, not for likes. Showing that love is the healing of the world and it is where we all must return, for it is where we will find true purpose in what to do. S ometimes people say farmers not special. But they are special to me. They made me who I am, so I cannot lose my way. They support the rich and the poor, never biased, feeding the children good food, making them big and strong. They introduce the little ones to sweet fruit, better than any candy, and give them bush tea, better than medication, healing the nation through the powers of Mother Natur...

I was at work today, listening to people come in and complain about the rain, frustrated that it  disrupted their plans and caused their day to feel ruined. It immediately struck me how quickly  we judge something simply because it doesn’t align with what we personally want. We forget  that the same rain we curse might be the very thing someone else prayed for, needed, or  welcomed with gratitude. That realization pushed me to write a poem, because it reminded me of  a simple truth that our perspective is not the world’s perspective.  T hey say it’s raining, so it’s not a beautiful day. But what about the farmer who has been waiting for water to feed his crops? Don’t you think he’s happy for the rain? When the sun is too hot, they complain and say, “Oh, it’s not so beautiful today.” But what about the people who have been waiting for a sunny day just to go to the beach? What about the children who couldn’t wait to go outside and play? Wouldn’t they say it’s...