From Inside The Sane Asylum

Made Me Grin

Lessons From The Road...the Seerer

From The Road...The Seerer

I heard stories of this man called The Seerer. They say he migrates south in the winter and he makes his home along Delmar Street. So on this cool sunny morn, I searched for the man who claimed he could read the Souls of Humanity.

He was on the bench where they described, with his bible close in hand and looking toward the sky. As I approached he gave me a stare...one of those looks that has no compare.

"Are you the Sage, a Seerer and a prophet they all subscribe", I asked?

"In every man sleeps a prophet and when he wakes there is a little more evil in the world. I only exist in comparison to others, so make me what you wish", he replied.

My father was a holy man. I watched him closely as he tended to the hearts and souls of others and many times at the expense of his own soul. I remember how he always looked people in their eyes, never speaking first but always a gentleness in his eyes.

The Seerer's eyes were dark and they never left the stare, even for a brief glance to passers in the street. Only speaking and responding to what was asked.  I sat next to him on that bench, with intent on what he had to say.

Breaking the silence, I asked, "Do you ever cry?"

Looking to the sky, he replied, "Through my window I spy the stars. I walk in to not wake the sky and dance barefoot on the stage of chaos." After a brief pause..."yes I cry, but only when it rains, that way no one sees my pain."

Yes, I had to ask, "What would cause you so much pain?"

And then came the lesson I did not want to miss..."I cry for humanity lost in this insanity of good, better and best. The desperate, the lonely with no where left to go. No kin, no friend, no foe. I cry for the sick and wounded wretched in pain, each breath a call for health again. I cry for my country ravaged by crime, corruption and greed. Fears and horrors that lurk at every door. I cry for the victims of those that have monsters in their veins. The broken and the destitute you hope have left in haste, those who's  joy are now just a forgotten taste." He paused and looked me in the eyes, "Dear sir, my souls a raging fear, drowning in tears like falling rain."

We spent that morning on the bench making friends and discussing the rest.

A sage, a prophet, a holy man?...much more than that. A little crazy to some by their measure, but a strong mind that was only searching for goodness and grace. Call him what you wish, he only exist in comparison to the others...but above all he is The Seerer of the heart and soul of man.

His name was Ivan...The Seerer

To my friend...

These tears fall from my eyes
as the rain falls from the sky.

Every day that passes we fail the test
When all we have to do is be kind to our kin and the rest.

I walk through the rain so you can't see me cry...
So you can't see the things that I hide in pain.

Let your tears water your soul
for your tears are heavens rain.
The soul would have no rainbow without your pain.

I stand in the rain so you can't see my tears as I cry for humanity...

The Sane Asylum Masters Series

Riverfront Line

Dumaine Station 

New Orleans, 2016 ...Christopher Bryson

The Sane Asylum...Master Series

 portrait by Edmondo Senatore.

From Inside The Sane Asylum...my morning walk

On my morning walk...Impressions in the sand

Everyone carries their own disguise...
who is this depression in the sand?
Your truth can only be realized through your eyes...
but I only get an expression in the sand.
I would like to try and read your mind...
 all I see is your impression in the sand.
Are you clenching the rope of hopes last strand...
 here only a revision in the sand.
Do you carry fire and brimstone inside...
but do you even notice the confession in the sand?
Maybe your just trying to push it all aside.

Are you longing to find this feeling so grand...
Maybe just a touch of another's hand?
Is there darkness underneath a smile so kind...
So much reality declined...as you leave it all behind.

But I only see an expression of impressions in the sand

And Moon Beam adds:
Then the tide comes in and it is as though you have never been to make impressions in the sand.

...and,   ...then the tide whispers,.... no more...
Thanks for the ending Shasta...

From Inside The Sane Aslyum...my morning walk

Down by the Sea...29.5381*N, 81.2233* W

At dawn I chart my song

I call to all who live by the shore

I flung my net out into the sea

where the sand and silver shines its lyric lines

The waves begin to laugh as the helmsman sings

And I smile at the wrinkled shore and the salt from her soft green hair

Such are tales of ancient lore

As the helmsman chants his haunting song

Chant your song, make it loud and clear

So full of longing, the sea birds poise to hear

Never a fish have I caught so fair

Never a dream in tangled in my nets have I seen

The helmsman answered, learn the secrets of the sea

Only the brave will comprehend its mystery

I smile at the wrinkled shore

Unraveling velvet flows of the maiden's hair

I held her close where at rest she would not be

I sang the helmsman's song for her beauty that I see 

Helmsman, teach me that song till my heart is full

Tell me all the secrets of the sea

A joy to brief...then rolled away with the tide

Tomorrow...tomorrow I will again comprehend her mystery...

Stopped to Ponder

From The Study...a conversation of possibilities

A Political Drama Play
Written by: Amy G. Dala

The Amygdala is a small almond-shaped lobe in the brain that functions as the brain's primary Fear Processor.  The Amygdala is part of the R-Complex, the most primitive subsystem of the brain.

Most of our political drama is driven by the machinations of the Amygdala.  We don't like to talk about our fears, so the higher centers of the brain do one of two things.  We either map Fear directly onto Hate (e.g. xenophobia) or we semantically invert our Dreads into reciprocal Desires and claim to be pursuing our Desires (rather than running away from our Dreads).

When the Amygdala goes into overdrive, we get the worst of all politics, the hateful politics of Fascism.

Sometimes you just gotta tell your bloody Amygdala to chill out.

Unless, of course, you have an insatiable appetite for shreklisch political drama.

The End... Don't forget to vote...Amy G. Dala

Lessons From The Sane Asylum

It has been said that life is the most patient teacher. You will be presented with the same experience over and over until you learn the best way to deal with the situation. This is not because life is cruel. Rather, it is because things have a way of coming back to haunt us when we don't deal with them. One form of intelligence is the ability to learn from mistakes. When you are presented with a painful experience, take the time to think about how you can avoid it in the future. This is an example of a lesson learned.

From Inside The Sane Asylum

Homesteader, Jes B Rambling, just sent me this picture from St. Augustine Fl. with the note he finally located the real St. Augustine grass guarded by a canon. He said he was off to celebrate
his 64th birthday in Youngville..Happy Birthday Jes B...safe ramblings to you!

Stopped to Ponder Series.

”People and things do not upset us, we upset ourselves by believing they upset us.” A. Ellis 

Made Me Grin...

Dado...our in resident photographer just sent this in to post...seems he is feeling his age.
Heard the other day he spent 15 minutes looking for his lost iPhone in his car with the light from his iPhone.

A funny thing happened on the way to therapy ...

"The day you decide that you are more interested in being aware of your thoughts
than you are in the thoughts themselves, that is the day you will find your way out."