Life Lost — Written, and Found

How much of our Lives are lost — forgotten? Fallen through the fractures of our meager minds. Evaporated into the ever-ticking course of Time . . .

How many stories, chapters, do we see, experience — only to remain ghost memories?




Dawn and Piper Tomahawk

When I was younger, did I really fly airplanes — 300 hours!?!

Did I camp alone with my horse for ten days, when I was just 18? It’s so far away now, like some kind of Past Life.

Soul Horse Riding

Did I ride my horses, all by myself, under the stars, on the side of a mountain?

Fly to Hawaii every six weeks to work shoeing horses for the last 14 years???

Molokai Mural


And if those memories seem so distant, what am I doing, now, that will seem like a dream to me later on . . .

And, what can I do to enhance that dream, to LIVE my Life, fully, today?

What do I need to change, tweak, alter?

What am I waiting for . . . to really be here . . .

Today, right now, and Live?

Luney Moon


I Write!

In writing, I set out to capture what Time, and Life — shall someday forget.

What shall certainly, one day, be gone.

Word pictures, I call them.

Snapshots. Some in prose. (I have journals full.)

Some in colorful Mind Maps . . .

Mind Map

Us writers — we Live. We write.

We Live some more. Write some more.

Doing our best to capture the never-ending Circle of Life.

Freeze it. Store it.

Love it :)) Learn from it.

And now we reach out, though blogging, in hopes of connecting, sharing with each other.

Like pointing out a shooting star . . .

Honolulu Fireworks

“It was really bright! Fast! Lit up the whole sky!”

(I’m there, with my back to the quadrant you saw it streak past in, but I didn’t see. So you, on the spot, do your best to describe it to me.)


Questioning Reality . . .

Yet, where is reality?

What makes something real?

Who is my witness?

Ghostly Orbs Pinos


If a tree falls in the woods, and no one hears it, does it still make a sound?

If I experience Life, and I don’t write it, share it, preserve it, did it even happen???


(I look at my computer, 11:44 right now — the alignment of symmetrical patterns and multiple numbers have always confirmed my truth!)

Gorman Hopscotch



Think about the psychic connections we share. I think of you, then the text chimes.

Of course, it’s you! That’s normal. Expected.

That’s how my reality works.

(So much takes place on so many levels that we won’t even acknowledge.)

Like dreaming.



Ghost Orbs on Pinos



And so I ask you. I ask me:

What in your Life is lost right now? How will you strive to find it?

What do you want to leave behind? How do you want to be remembered?


What shall you shift in consciousness, before your leave this Green Earth?

How deep, how connected, do you want to go???

Ella at Fuji's


So go for it, girl!

Blast off, boy!

Make the shift . . .

Take the dip . . .

Jump into the uncharted waters.

Shoot for the stars!

Roll onto the runway of Life, and lift off :))

Ready to Roll

For strategies in dealing with anxiety and depression, see my Depression Emergency Kit.


Like what you’ve read here? Visit Dawn’s sister blog: Soul Horse Ride

~~___(\ ~~___(\ ~~___(\
…/< >\ …/< >\ …/< >\

Running Horse


Copyright 2017











15 thoughts on “Life Lost — Written, and Found

  1. Joe

    As always dawn your timeless is impeccable!! In T minus 7 hours 30 minutes I get to go meet my new dog!! I can’t wait! Not 5 minutes ago I scheduled an interview for a high end sales position which means new frontiers and new opportunities as well as I am certain a very hectic learning curve.

    I may not have a lot of hard sales experience but I’ve developed an uncanny ability to talk to anyone. Often when asked what I do for a living I would make a game of convincing the other party that I repossessed and refurbished caskets for a living (long funny story). I have enjoyed a 100% success rate at this. The product I will be selling I have used for decades (petroleum company) and I can stand behind the quality and the opportunity is pretty big for me.

    Even though my resume and history does not speak to sales directly after a conversation on the phone this morning the response was that the majority owners of said company are “intrigued”.

    Blast off!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. DawnSeeker Post author

      AWESOME Joe!!!!! You’re on the launch pad, loaded with the skills you honed, by testing your chomps mimicking Bullwinkle or Casper or George of the Jungle :)) Give it FULL THROTTLE :)) Take off! Fly! Enjoy the Ride!!!!!! :)) :)) :)))


  2. Teodora

    Such a beautiful post. Totally identify with what you’ve written here. Glad I stumbled upon this post and read it. Great inspiration to keep writing and to do the things we truly want to do. Thank you for writing this!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. eineachain

    Did I really kick a Nun in Ireland at the age of five as she was dragging through a classroom door?

    Did I really run down a guy with my car to break his leg for beating me up in a Pub bar fight?

    Did I really smash into three Police cars in a chase that lasted 30 miles and ended up with me spending a week in hospital?

    Did I really ride horse over hills in Jerusalem with a Jewish lover in the Israeli army. In our saddle-bags were sandwiches. We had ridden from Kibbutz Mishmar David to a monastery where we bought a bottle of banana liqueur.

    On the way back to the Kibbutz my girlfriend’s horse bolted and I chased after her until the bottle of banana liqueur jumped from her saddlebag and exploded in front of us.

    I reared my horse to a stop and dismounted. I picked up the jarred remnants of the banana liqueur and drank the remains into my mouth. Joy returned after gaining control of her horse. I rode up to her and pressed my lips against hers pushing the remains of the banana liqueur into her mouth!

    Four years later here is what she wrote:

    Joy – Letter from Jerusalem, 23rd March, 1984

    “Time has one frightening characteristic that really freaks me – its power of erosion. Yes, as it passes by us, between us, thru us, it attacks our memories like moths do clothes, and silently, softly with mothlike sounds it eats away those precious images, those important feelins and things that we never believed could be so easily faded.

    … Whatever comes out is a result of the mass of images that flood my head and beg and scream to be immortalized on the page. Oh Graham – the feeling of whatever nature churns up in my throat and I long to stretch out thru the space to those dead places and dead people:

    To me and you riding horse thru the ever-greening growth, my horse bolting and the bottle of Banana liquer exploding – holding the remnants up to our lips and tasting the moment – so ephemeral, so fleeting – as it runs down our throat. That light headliness of naked bodies on real-hard earth – honest earth and honest moon – yellow as only moon can be – and the flesh. and Crabs and a thousand memories now squirm together – Too much – too quick – all gone !

    We are so frail – so fucking human fragile and when we love – somehow we always love and where the flesh tears – we retain the scar. ”

    Liked by 1 person

    1. DawnSeeker / DawnHoof Post author

      God Graham, how beautiful! Thank you very much for including these memories on my post! Rich. Ephemeral. Far and away. Forever there, yet not there, until re-told and re-lived! When do you want to ride on a horse in the forest? Let me know!!!! Dawn :))



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