March 24, 2017

Something happens, simple to the outside observer perhaps even of no real consequence, and it strikes a chord within me.  I panic.  Calm down, breathe, it can be handled.  I look at the task with a sense of anxiety and responsibility that crushes me like a tidal wave, “How did this happen?!”

“I took every precaution.” I sit there, baffled by my seeming ineptitude, then a word… somehow a simple word picks me up and carries me to a place where the solution sits waiting, like an old friend.  I set down, gently, next to the solution and realize my panic was only me.  A sense of calm comes over me, washing away those anxieties and I put my hands to work.  The solution always seems to be right there waiting on me to find it, I just have to stop and realize, my perception of this problem is what hides the solution.  If a word can pick me up, then what does my action do?

Moving swiftly now, this isn’t as hard as it seemed before.

-Christian Sanders



streaksMarch 22, 2017

Sit down.  A shudder.  An inner slump followed abruptly by a deafening inner scream. The mouth moved and I heard the words come out, maybe I saw them as they rushed at my face with fists clenched aiming for the most tender part of me… my heart. Every moisture-producing point on my body dried up immediately.  Tears, why do you elude me in this time of need?  If I could cry it would have been made better… just wait, the tears will come after the initial shock and you will be unable to quell them no matter how hard you try.  It’s ok. No, it isn’t.  The future holds that place of “okness” that I was told about, but at that moment I couldn’t see it, I could only see devastation and it’s rippling effect moving outward, consuming an imaginary joy, a future hoped for, innocence in a desire for that simple future.  Gone, but not leaving that wake of destruction that I initially saw.  It laid waste to my earlier imaginings about what my future should look like and it left a beautifully blank canvas.  Never has the white, untainted, and taught look of an imaginary canvas seemed so bright and brilliant in my mind’s eye.  And there lying next to me in the wake of this calamity are paints, their labels something unfamiliar just a short time ago, I look at each one in wonder as I read their labels: Joy – a brilliant yellow with what looks like stars and sunbeams mixed together, Happiness – a subtle blue like sapphires strewn across the bottom of a crystal clear pool of water, Adventure – a rainbow made entirely of the memories that are yet to be.  I picked up my paintbrush, opened the paints, and now I begin to paint!  Something new and tantalizing, something that I never even thought possible, I paint – little by little – into this new future, splattering paint on this canvas and after each stroke or swipe; I stop, I step back and I relish in it and then I make another stroke and another and the picture comes together… slowly, as it should.  That devastation was just a whitewashing of my fantastical future, giving me the clean medium of my new life to come, and allowing me to slow down and paint a better picture.

Christian Sanders

Simplicity or…

FireworkMarch 22, 2017

Simplicity in beauty, or beauty in simplicity? Either way we have a bad habit of downplaying something as big and amazing as beauty. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder”, I’m not so sure about that. Something can be beautiful just because it exists, no one has to look upon it and judge it just for something to be beautiful. Beauty is much more than our perception of something or someone, but is so interwoven into existence that we take the simplest and most beautiful things for granted! A tiny example is a blade of grass, it comes in a wide array of colors that are almost innumerable and dances in a breeze with no regard for anything other than just being, not because it hopes someone will see it dancing and give it praise, but because it’s beauty is in it’s being and that is more than enough, yet we stomp on it with blatant disregard for this beauty… taking it for granted. Beauty is in the face of every person we encounter, it is our own selfishness and contorted concepts that hide a person’s beauty and allows us not to see how beautiful they really are, but we continue to isolate ourselves and cut ourselves off from vast oceans of beauty and possible friendships and relationships just because of our own shortsightedness. The beauty is there, it is right in front of our faces, we just have to take off our own self-righteous blinders to see it. I am not more beautiful than you and you are not more beautiful than me, but we both, and all, have our own unique beauty that we bring to this world. Maybe our eyes aren’t what are closed to this beauty, but our minds hide it from us because of a clouded perception? Look past the clouds and see the overwhelming beauty that is in your life! I’m certainly trying to do that.

Christian Sanders


waterMarch 21, 2017

Sometimes the best things pour out of us like water.  Almost as though we are bleeding our thoughts right into what we are writing or doing.  Those are the best words and actions that we can ever have.  It starts, for me, with a simple phrase and then completely overwhelms me to the point of making me hyper-focus on the thoughts and feelings that fly at me in no particular order.  It becomes my duty to make sense of these confused thoughts as they come to me and to then, in turn, write them as fast as possible so that I don’t lose them in the ether of my daily thoughts.  So that their meaning, whatever it may be, doesn’t get lost and never see the light of day.  I write because it is cathartic and lifts me up, not for anything more than the possibility of stumbling onto a thought that will carry me to that next place of joy, or that next moment of epiphany.  Today’s writing may be a bit off-kilter, but it is written because that first sentence above came to me and I couldn’t help myself but to sit down, take a moment, and make sure that I didn’t lose it.  I will go back and read this at a later date and my hope is that in reading it in the future it will incite in me yet another idea to write about and pull me into something new and exciting that I can’t hold back.  Whatever it is that incites creativity and joy in you, do it!  Allow the water to flow from you and for others to see it and perhaps be inspired to do what they must to continue this flow and maybe perpetuate something good.

Christian Sanders

Little Bird

baby_bird_in_nestMarch 20, 2017

Little bird don’t chirp too loudly, danger approaches.  Little bird, it is cold and lonely so far below your nest, so distant from the love and safety of your family.  Little bird, hear the approaching flutter of your mother’s beating wings, hear her cry out for you as she searches, tirelessly… for you.  Little bird, be calm, be comforted, be ready.  Little bird, hold fast, your mother has found you and is guarding you from harm.  Little bird, you are safe now, carried swiftly back to the nest with your family, set softly back in the midst of love and comfort.  Little bird, be careful… it can happen again easily when you perch so precariously on the edge of what you know and love.  Little bird, you will be able to fly soon and when you do you will carry a bit of the love that you became so familiar and comfortable with, with you and you will cultivate it in your own new nest.  Little bird, learn to watch carefully, as this will help you in the strangeness of life to come.  Little bird, don’t be afraid anymore, you are safe and life moves on gently, comfortably with bountiful love to come.

Christian Sanders

Slowly watch


January 12, 2017 and March 20, 2017 (mixed and edited)

What if I just stopped, just slowed enough to watch everything around me pass by me and see what happens in the impending future?  Someone had a great day today, it zooms past my eyes in a lightning flash, barely visible through strained eyes… I know it was a good day, I saw the joy on the faces in that day. I am constantly asking the question, “What is happiness?”.  And my old thought was that happiness is something we get as a child and as we grow, happiness is this fleeting moment that always eludes us and we are always rushing toward it, but never finding it.  Happiness, it seemed, was a carrot on the end of a string.  Dangling in front of my face, just to keep me moving and I thought myself a senseless horse perpetually trying to get that stupid fucking carrot!  But no.  Happiness is far beyond that and is an attainable thing.  We must continue reaching, because it doesn’t slow and wait for us to catch up.  Happiness is all around us, just as beauty is all around us… it is us that must take the time and put in the effort to reach this happiness.  It doesn’t move faster than we do, it just moves swiftly and we have to train our eyes on it and focus, purposefully, to see it and be in it.  Happiness approaches, will you reach out and grab it?  I know that I’m certainly going to try to grab some of it for myself.

Christian Sanders

Humility or shame

March 18, 2017

It’s only nothing. Humility or shame? Which is it? We call it humility when someone doesn’t acknowledge that they are good at something, but is that really what it is? Sometimes perhaps it is based in shame, a shame that comes from being ostracized by our peers for being better at something than they are, a shame that is learned by being told to “stop that, you’ll make other people feel inferior!” But if you have a skill or talent why should you not acknowledge that? Show it to all, just don’t be a jerk about it. You can be talented and humble, you can also be skilled without feeling shame. Don’t be afraid to use the talents you have! Jealousy is the thing that drives others to shame you for knowing that you can accomplish something, perhaps better than they can. Do not be shamed for being good at something. Stand tall and proud of your skills and talents don’t shy away from being great!

-Christian Sanders

Brain power depleted

March 16, 2017

Not gonna be a whole lot coming out of my brain today, just simple ramblings and the struggle to make it to the end of the work day.  I did have an interesting thought though about the saying, “When your world comes crashing down”.  Why do we use the word “crashing”?  It implies a loud noise and perhaps even shrapnel and rubble being dispersed across the many parts of our lives.  I think that the crashing is more a reference to how loud and in our face certain times in our lives can be, so much so that we hyper-focus on the pain or injury that is immediate in our lives, but have a hard time side-stepping this boisterous noisy time to see what lies beyond it (we have a tunnel vision of sorts)… and often times it is something good that this “crashing” has now prepared us to be more grateful for.  As I stopped, earlier this week, I looked back at some of the entirely crazy, traumatic and completely life-altering events that I have survived and then didn’t turn to look to the future with those events clear in my head, but looked at the present and how those events shaped and molded me into what I am and what I am capable of today. And it was a very peaceful and slow moving view, I never tried to “run through” what I was looking at and just saw, with a sense of clarity, that the lessons I have learned built forged and tempered me into who I am today. Forget tomorrow, today is the place where I reside on a regular basis, since I have yet to travel to the future, and even if I did it would just be the present because the future is always approaching, we never actually are in “the future”.  So, I’m not gonna try to predict or live in the future… it just hasn’t worked out for me, but I can live in today and I can relish in the impending joy that will see me into whatever tomorrow holds.  Hope you all have a wonderful day!

Christian Sanders

Waking Dream


January 1, 2017

What if you went to sleep and began to dream something wonderful and crazy, something bizarre and beautiful?  Now you wake up, but the dream continues, not releasing you from it’s intoxication.  You can fly, breathe under water, see all of your loved ones as they were in youth… and the need to wake faded into the distance.  Would you care for the loss of your waking life?  Would there even be a longing to take another step into the upheaval and detriment of being “awake”?   Dreams are wonderful and dangerous things, don’t lose them, but don’t be consumed by them either.  May your best dreams come true and your worst nightmares never come to pass!

Christian Sanders

The Curse of H. Rorschach


Part 4 Hermann Rorschach

The return train ride was uneventful, other than a drunk wandering into Hermann’s cabin and yelling at him for not being a beautiful woman.  His mind was still reeling from the hallucination at the table with Freud.

“Did I really see those things?!  Was I just lost inside Sigmund’s mind?!  There is something powerful behind these blots… I absolutely must figure this out.”

He arrived home just after  eight o’clock and found no rest in being back at his house, yes he was glad to see his wife, but his mind could not let the strangeness of the recent events go.  With some hesitation, he decided to go to his office and study the “ink” further.  He kissed Olga goodbye and headed out into the cold night, traveling slowly toward his office… he began to wonder how he could have just stumbled onto something of this magnitude.

“Is this how every scientist feels when they ‘accidentally’ discover something groundbreaking?  I wonder how I will come up with an explanation for the scientific community about this new discovery?”  These and many more questions plagued him as he instinctively made his way to his office.  He opened the door to his office and was greeted with the familiar “RING” of the bell in his office, hung his coat neatly on the coat rack and made his way to his desk.  He didn’t even realize it was dark in his office for the first few minutes, the light from the full moon streaming in through his window had pushed the need for him to light a candle to the back of his mind.  He came out of his own thoughts long enough to light the half burnt candle on his desk and when he did, he noticed the “ink” in the well writhe and churn for a moment, as if it were a cockroach trying to escape the light.  “Interesting!”, he thought to himself.

He opened the ink well and dipped a small paintbrush in the “ink” and then splattered it on a fresh piece of paper and watched, intently, as the ink began to take shape and form into some new and wonderful design.  Patiently, Hermann watched and waited, until the last wet bit of “ink” was now soaked into the paper and he held it up to the light to see what it had made.  What was it?  He stared at it for a long moment and it still made no sense to him.  “Had I been hallucinating when I thought the ink made some beautiful living design earlier?”  His confusion began to tear at him as he dipped the paintbrush again into the “ink” and splattered once more onto another piece of paper.  Waiting, watching, he held his breath as the design finally came into focus in his mind’s eye.


He knew that the “ink” was definitively black in nature, but this image was in full color and looked to be getting more vibrant with each passing moment.  “How can this be?!”  He then looked at the previous blot and it came into focus in his mind as well…


“A lady looking at herself in the mirror, while holding her handbag!  There it is plain as day!”  He was shocked that it took him so long to focus and realize what these blots had become.  They seemed to grow and change over time, never fully settling into just an ink stain on paper, but always moving, always changing.  Hermann began to feel dizzy at all this excitement, he tried to stand and walk over to his couch, but the sudden rush of blood made him faint, just as he thought he heard the bell to his office ring…

He woke from his sleep in a sort of haze, “I never knew that splattering ink on paper could take so much out of a person.”  A certain amount of confusion surrounded him, “Why do my arms feel so heavy?  My legs feel that same way, what’s going on?!”  Upon further examination of his person he noticed that he could no longer even make a fist.  It seemed as though it took an exaggerated amount of effort just to look around and his vision seemed very hindered, almost like looking through a window that the sunrise or sunset was shining directly on.  “Why can’t I focus? And why are my limbs not responding?”  He tried to roll over and noticed a slight grating sound, similar to marbles rolling across a wood floor.  Upon hearing this noise, he stopped… still as a statue.

He was certain some type of peg legged assassin had kidnapped him and had been sitting in the shadows of his office waiting on him to wake up, but the noise never repeated.  “My imagination is just playing tricks on me. Huh.” He slightly chuckled to himself, but the chuckle continued and then he heard it grow.  The chuckle was now a cackle and there were loud reverberating footsteps that seemed to be moving closer.  “It wasn’t my mind, there really is a peg-legged assassin in here with me, but the cackle stopped, rather abruptly and with it’s stop came the looming shadow of a figure standing over him.  He felt so small under this shadow, which was something he took note of since he was six feet two inches when standing upright.  “Comfortable in there?”  The voice tickled his senses almost as if it were bouncing around inside his head looking for an escape route.  “Wh-Who are you?”, he asked.  “I’m very, very hurt that you don’t remember me Dr. Rorschach.  I was your first!  I know I remember my first… *a slight shiver runs down her pencil thin body*… Heh, hee hee, He was tall and handsome, but I digress.  First, is not always sexual, but the mind does tend to wander!”, The words and laughter seemed to fall from her mouth and bounce off of Rorschach causing a slight headache, “why does my head feel as though it’s swimming?”  Questions and that foul laughter rung through his mind and would permit him no logical explainations… it became too much and he fainted from the spinning feeling that had been rising inside him.