Did this page end up framed? Click here to break out.

Finally, the Sound Turned Off lull Function: ...
Having Your Heart Caressed By the Creator
Whispers of Sundays Past rem·i·nis·cence Func...
Dreaming of Ivory Towers dor·mi·to·ry Functio...
Fixing a Puzzle Blindfolded rue Function: nou...
A Watched Pot Never Boils, Right? trep·i·da·tio...
Brushed Lightly By Might Have Beens
All of Us Have a Soundtrack to Our Lives
Do You Really Want To Know What Other People Are T...
No, They are Not Kidding About the Turkey. Word...

Click to go to the most current Cliff Between the Lines
Life, viewed sideways. Emotions, amplified. Answers, questioned. Me, between the lines.

- A Wounded Heart, Who Can Bear?
- Drowning Under a Tidal Wave
- Clawing My Way to the Sunlight
- Yes, Santa Claus, There Is a Virginia
- Fugu
- Touching the Spirit
- A Hole in the Universe
- Riding on the Dreams of Others
- Turning Into a Shark
 - A Heart, Ripped Asunder
- Surrendering to the Roller Coaster
- Hunting in the Jade Forest
- Dodging the Shark
- Dancing With Invisible Partners
- The Captain and the Harliquin
- Courting the Devils
- The Captain Makes His Mark
- Mad Dog to the Rescue
- Innocent in the Big City
- Dropping the Ball Briefcase
- Scrambling Brains
- Cheating the Reaper, Again
- What If the Man Behind the Curtain Is No Wizard After All?
- All of Us Have a Soundtrack
- Working With Broken Machines
- Happy Anniversary, Baby
- Standing on Stars
- Running the Film Backwards
- Identity Crisis ("Who am I?")
- Can We Ever Really Admit the Desires of Our Heart?
- Forgiveness is a Rare Thing
- Having Your Heart Caressed By the Creator
- Working With Broken Machines
- A New Leg to Stand On
- The Real Spirit of Christmas
- Chatting With Infinity
- Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
- We All Have a Great Capacity for Loss
- Brushed Lightly By Might Have Beens
- We See the World Through Our Own Looking Glass
- Every Storm Passes Eventually
- Accidents Can Introduce Destiny Into Our Lives
- Freedom Depends on the Walls Around Us
- Pulling Aside the Velvet Curtain
- Riding the Razor's Edge
- Dying With Strangers
- In Your Face
- Between the Lines
- The Bobcat
- Angel With a Coffeecup
- Innocent in the Big City
- Chains of Gossamer
- Playing With Knives
- Stumbling Through Memories (Ooops)
- Picture This
- Running the Film Backwards
- Playing the Score, Tasting the Music
- Coins and Corals and Carved Coconuts
- My God, I Confess
- Exotic in Thin Air (Part 1, Speechless)
- Exotic in Thin Air (Part 2, Taxi)
- Exotic in Thin Air (Part 3, The Pan American)
- Exotic in Thin Air (Part 4, Guano)
- Exotic in Thin Air (Part 5, The Andes Express)

Blogroll Me!

Feed for RSS readers:
ATOM Site Feed

Enter your email address below to be notified daily in your email whenever this blog is updated, courtesy of Bloglet:

powered by Bloglet

"This is True" is now located at the bottom of this page.

My Blogger Profile

More About Cliff Hursey

Email me

"From this hour I ordain myself loos'd of limits and imaginary lines, going where I list, my own master total and absolute, Listening to others, considering well what they say, Pausing, searching, receiving, contemplating, Gently, but with undeniable will, divesting myself of the holds that would hold me."

Walt Whitman (1819-92)

"When I look back now over my life and call to mind what I might have had simply for taking and did not take, my heart is like to break."

Akhenaton (d. c.1354 BC)

And now, the current weather, from some random person we pulled off the street:

The WeatherPixie

Tuesday, September 09, 2003

Pulling Aside the Velvet Curtain

Function: intransitive verb
Etymology: Middle English piken
Date: 14th century
1 a : to look furtively b : to peer through a crack or hole or from a place of concealment -- often used with in or out
2 : to take a brief look : GLANCE
3 : what you are doing to my life, right this moment.

Welcome, stranger.

Or perhaps friend, I can't tell from here.

When I write in here, and you read it there, does my heart speak as it wants to speak, or does the separation of space and time dull the images like so many dusty photographs of places long forgotten?

When my now becomes your now, right now, can you see into my eyes, hear in my ears, think in my mind?

I have so much to share.

I am glad you are visiting.

Here, pull up a seat. No, use that one, its the most comfortable in the room. There's coffee and cookies, can I get you some? Cream? Sugar?

I'll put some slow saxaphone jazz on, just to keep the mood private between us. Yes, that sounds nice.

I'll tell you my stories. Stories full of joy and remorse, full of struggle and opportunity, full of choices made and unmade. I've lived stories of sunshine and lightning, of desert and ocean, of valleys and mountains. And given time, I'll tell them all.

If you will but listen.

I have so much to share.

Here, look at these photos. I used to hate looking at pictures, but now that I am older I am starting to appreciate them more.

Here's my aunt from Florida, she's dead now, she told me the most amazing things.

And here is my cousin from North Carolina, he's dead too, and he fought till the last moment of his life. And here is my best friend, and I haven't seen him in years.

Life can sometimes be so disconnected, can't it? It slips through our fingers like water and it is too late to catch it when we realize it is gone. It wounds, it heals, it drives us crazy and restores our sanity. It makes us love and hate and laugh and cry and scream and stuns us into silence.

I have seen the veil the Virgin Mary wore. I have watched an ice dam break under Niagara and stood in her spray. I have wrestled with sharks. I have stood before thousands and sang to them. I have saved more than a few lives. I have flirted with death. I have left memories on three continents. I have seen Inca ruins and Druid stones and Eqyptian monoliths. I have touched demons and kissed angels.

I have so much to share.

If you will let me tell you.

When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate now knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.
Henri Nouwen, Out of Solitude

Permalink: 9/09/2003 03:37:00 PM |
EMail this post to a friend:

Creative Commons License\__Cliff Between the Lines__/ is licensed
under a Creative Commons License.

Visit The Weblog Review

All Definitions featured in this blog are modified from the Webster Dictionary website.

Many quotations in this blog come from the Quotations Page.

This page is powered by Blogger. Weblog Commenting by HaloScan.com Blogarama - The Blog Directory

WWW \__Cliff Between the Lines__/