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  #1  
Unread 04-17-2024, 08:05 AM
Jim Moonan Jim Moonan is offline
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Default Four 100 word thoughts

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FOUR 100 WORD THOUGHTS



If I Only Had One Hundred Words

If I only had one hundred words left to say what I wanted to say, I wouldn’t know what to say. I may, in fact, have already said it before and it is not possible to say it again. Something that occurred to me some time ago that I wrote down and has since washed downstream, absorbed into the wake of words I’ve written ever since that day when I picked up a fountain pen and fell in love with the velvety smooth way the ink glided on the page. Thank you. Thank you, thank you. Thank you. Thank you.



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I Listen to Myself Alone

I have stopped listening to others. I am now listening to something else; something that quietly insists I listen. To be fair, I have not completely stopped listening to others. I’ve only just now learned how to hear what others say while still paying closest attention to my own voice, which is the only voice I have. I have stopped it mid-thought so often that it is wounded. I must repair it. I must devote myself to it. I now know that voice to be the only voice that listens back and speaks when everyone else has left. I’m alone.



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These Are Just Thoughts

These are just thoughts. They come and go. Though some come back. I find them here waiting for me. They are my children and I like to play with them. I am not a good parent to them, though. I neglect them even though I love them. I put them down here and walk away when they begin to ask questions or become unruly. I think they speak for themselves when they need me to speak for them. I was once one of them, I think to myself. Who were my parents? Why did they leave me here? Why? Why?



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Some Questions for Myself & for You, Too

Do I mean what I say? Do I think I know? Do I speak too much about nothing? When will the day come? Am I only here to live and die? Have I made a difference? Am I being measured? Can I become better at loving you? Does it hurt? Can I do something more, anything, to win your love forever? Is that a question I even want answered? Are my questions necessary? Can I be freed from doubt? Will I suffer? How far am I from where I am going? Will I get there? Can you come, too? Yes?



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(With gratitude to John Riley)
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Last edited by Jim Moonan; 04-17-2024 at 11:10 AM.
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Unread 04-19-2024, 12:37 AM
Glenn Wright Glenn Wright is offline
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Hi, Jim—
Your first piece made me think about the finiteness of our lives. The ancient Greeks believed in three Fates: Clotho who spun the thread of life, Lachesis who measured it, and Atropos who cut it. What did Lachesis use to measure the span of a life? Breaths? Heartbeats? Days? Words? Do we have a finite number of words? If so, we should guard them like gold.

The second piece reminded me of 1 Kings 19:11-13 in which Elijah runs from Ahab and Jezebel to a cave on a mountainside trying to hear the voice of God. He listens to the wind and an earthquake, and finally hears a still, small voice from within himself, which was the voice of God.

Your third and fourth pieces seemed very personal, and both deal with questioning. Just as small children can annoy their parents by constantly asking, “Why? Why?” so our questions, leading as they do to an infinite chain of more questions, must try God’s patience.

Last edited by Glenn Wright; 04-20-2024 at 01:54 PM.
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Unread 04-20-2024, 10:29 AM
Jim Moonan Jim Moonan is offline
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Originally Posted by Glenn Wright View Post
Hi, Jim—
Your first piece made me think about the finiteness of our lives. The ancient Greeks believed in three Fates: Clotho who spun the thread of life, Lachesis who measured it, and Atropos who cut it. What did Lachesis use to measure the span of a life? Breaths? Heartbeats? Days? Words? Do we have a finite number of words? If so, we should guard them like gold.

The second piece reminded me of 1 Kings 19:11-13 in which Elijah runs from Ahab and Jezebel to a cave on a mountainside trying to hear the voice of God. He listens to the wind and an earthquake, and finally hears a still, small voice from within himself, which was he voice of God.

Your third and fourth pieces seemed very personal, and both deal with questioning. Just as small children can annoy their parents by constantly asking, “Why? Why?” so our questions, leading as they do to an infinite chain of more questions, must try God’s patience.

I’m so glad you stopped by — there are not many who venture this far out : )

These are writing exercises using a 100 word limit that I learned from John Riley who has published a book of them. I find the arbitrary limitation of 100 words to be somehow releasing in spite of their their limitation.

#1 Reflects my sense that answers to mysteries are revealed frequently, though fleetingly, if only we are able to stop. Look. Listen. Feel. But I also think it is rare that we ever retain what is revealed and so are doomed to continue rediscovering and forgetting. (This is not a firmly held conviction of mine or anything. It's just how I feel : )) Every so often, though, we might have an epiphany that alters our paradigm for the rest of our lives. Sometimes it comes in the form of trauma, sometimes love, sometimes sacrifice, sometimes research, sometimes poetry, sometimes shared experiences, etc. In an earlier draft of #1 it occurred to me that I might not ever find the words I'm looking for, nor did I even know why I was looking for them, so I simply wrote, "Thank you, thank you," 25 times to satisfy the 100 word limit.

#2 alludes to my lifelong propensity for not listening to myself. I've been reminded of that fact here on the Sphere on occasion by writers I deeply admire and respect and if I am to be honest I have to say it sometimes hurts (truth hurts sometimes). I am ever so slowly beginning to listen to myself. In fact, these four 100 word exercises are evidence of that.

I’m thrilled that you were able to see in these dashed off lines connections to Greek gods and biblical passages. I know very little about either but sometimes feel like I’m living both.

Although I would consider all of them deeply personal, you are right to see the last two as being particularly so. They are confessional. #3 at one point is me echoing John Lennon’s primal scream therapy period when he was digging back into his past in order to resolve some of his issues with his own parenting failures by revisiting the failures of his parents. (“They fuck you up, your mum and dad” as Phillip Larkin said : ))

#4 flirts with existential thoughts and tries to grasp and hold on to the people in my life that give it meaning.

Thanks very much for coming here to read these.

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