Halcyon: characterized by happiness, great success, and prosperity : golden—often used to describe an idyllic time in the past that is remembered as better than today
Life, unscripted, surprises me.
When is a halcyon memory born? I imagine we miss its birth and only come to recognize its existence as the energy it brings stimulates us? How often do we neglect the time in which we are living, longing for a future distant time where the projection of fulfillment resides like a mirage? What we need most is in the moment and how can we prepare for any moment before it arrives?
My life is embossed with a council of sages and doyennes, a full array of insight from many walks of life. I was recently recognized, though perhaps even more celebrated, in the presence of the alternative femme fatales of Oklahoma, the gathering brotherhood of North Carolina, the familial warmth of my sisters and parents; the great architects of a sacred sanctuary. It is not a place, but a moment; a present asylum of an uncategorized experience in an uncatalogued serenity. A stunning twinkle in the vastness of my soul.
These cherished moments are my halcyon gems; my personal X-Files unindexed in the greater array of my experiences. Points of light that guide me in cimmerian journeys. Unlike the memories easily assigned to categories, these operate as metadata to my self-comprehension, which is to say, my self-identification. I am defined more by these unindexed moments than by any other.
It is a privilege to possess the loving regard of others. It is favor of the highest stature to be offered the radiating hearth of halcyon hostels, and though there is one dedicated to a half-million dollar policy prize upon my demise, every point of light I receive is to live life more fully in the afterglow of their unmerited love.
The half-million dollar policy prize winner asked me once, “Who are you?” To which I pondered, “I am the man who never was and always wanted to be.” In the aftermath of the accusatory tone the phrase was re-framed in uncategorized moments by the wisdom of love “Who are you?” to which my soul echoed, “I am becoming what you see in me.”
Each of you (who know who you are), sages and doyennes alike, have restored me in response to my halcyon sonar – pining for a bounce. Each ping you return is my sanctuary, my asylum; the uncategorized moments; the unindexed metadata in becoming what you witness in me. It is in you that I experience the love that transcends; it is in you that I experience me.
The passionate Phoenix of Firefly Horizons and conceptual prognosticator of Mutatis Mutandis reborn through the scorching forge of his annihilation into creative sanctuary. Steve translates the fury of his Phoenix experience into experiential exegesis in search of perspectives not yet in view. Read more about Steve • Articles by Steve