* nurturing well-being through self-expression*
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I am a writer.  There is something in me that needs to be said.  But for so long I have told myself that I can’t read, I can’t write.  I don’t know if that was me saying it or if it was an easy way out.  Am I just lazy or was it those low expectations that others had of me?  I am a writer.  It frees me and makes me complete.  I hope that there is something in my writing that will give someone light, make them see more clearly, give them hope.

I am a stranger in a strange land.  When I got to California I thought that everything would be so nice.  I came here to be with my mother.  And then the other shoe dropped.  I met my mother, someone so like me.  And then, nothing like me.  Her look, her smile, her want for things she can’t afford.  We both have the thing in our heads that things will make us happy.  But now I see that all I need is this pen and this paper.  I have come to know myself.  I am no longer a stranger.

My friends are word and song.  I am a friend to this pen, to this paper, to the music in my heart and the rhythm that sets the tone for the way I lead my life and think about living.  Music is more to me than the songs I hear on the radio.  It’s my heartbeat, my breath.  My pen and this paper help me to count the beats.  And to see you tap your feet when I sing my song, snap your fingers and hum along lets me know that you are my friend; you have never let me down.  And I will never let you go.

Michael Benson
September 23rd 2007


My feelings are deep, like the bottom of an ocean. 
In the ocean there are dark areas and deep bottoms. 
So they are in my soul;
there’s darkness that I want to explain but I can’t. 
I need to see there must be light. 
As I swim in darkness of the deep I go by feelings. 
How can I get to the light?  Where is it? 

How do I achieve the brightness and the glory of Being about to see,
to feel, to touch, to smell, to taste, to love and most important – to live. 
My thought runs, my thoughts ramble.  I’m so blind. 
If I can’t find the light, I can’t see;
maybe I can be at ease with God, with my Creator, with Jesus Christ.

My spirit hovers around, lost; but the light will come and save me. 
So many times I’ve been tangled up in seaweed at the bottom of the ocean
and some way I get out but I don’t acknowledge the light for saving me.
The light is inside of me and you. 
The light is freedom from bondage of self
and anything else that hinders me or you from the truth –
that sets us apart from the darkness, from the deep of the ocean inside of me. 
The light is pure and real, honest, loving and strong, has pride…and will overcome.

Eddie McLeod
April 15th 2007

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