Gary Sackett

~ Expressing Gratitude and Love ~

Category: Creative writing

Juggling Life

Balls juggling in the air
everyone carrying weight
too heavy to hold
so many — I try

So many different sizes
so many colors
so many thoughts
so many — I cry

Criss-cross patterns
left to right
right to left
up and — down

One drops and hit my toe
screaming profanities
rolling off — it disappears

I continue the act
wanting to get better
so I add — another

Bouncing around
click, clack, smash
another one flies
out the — window

No— No— No
I have to have that
running, tripping
scrambling out — the door

Comforts of home
so easy
Decisions and actions
commitments deplore
I think about, really I think
about taking — steps

So when I did
so hard, so scary
excitement and buzz
light and airy
that moment I — decided

Hurricanes, tornadoes
winds to and from
all directions — synchrony

From cannon to golf
demolishing to tennis
bowling to marbles
blown away — change

Finally I realized
the heavy balls were feathers
juggling was now
wisps of air
the balls were — energy


Another one bites the dust, another one closer to…

Photo by Cathy Sackett

Photo by Cathy Sackett

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52, a number I made it to. How did I make it so far? I survived car crashes, bullets whizzing by, surgeries and… being a father.

I’ve been a lot of places, seen, sometimes too much, places and people that most have not.

The questions, quotations and exclamation points that is our lives, we live them day to day, month to month and year to year.

I got here by taking a step every day, thankful for what I have, what I’ve done and what I’m going to do.

A inventory of my life: A beautiful wife, who loves me unconditionally, an awesome son who makes me proud, a loving family spread all over, a spacious apartment in Georgia, a house in Illinois, a constant job that gives me a great income, the ability to create beautiful spaces, a black lab, a Harley-Davidson motorcycle. I have a couple awesome friends, many acquaintances and one person who I know would give me anything I asked for.

I have been able to live in many different states, performed many different jobs and met many different people. From Sweat Lodges to Cathedrals, from homeless to dignitaries. It could be complete.

I could be content, satisfied and for the most part I am, but then why am I on my way to 53. Why do I breathe another breath?

Because…my list is not done! The list that’s on the tip of your tongue, the list you dream of but yet can’t remember.

Apparently I have a mission. It could be to build an corporate empire, travel the world, feed the masses. It could be becoming an actor, winning on Jeopardy, or inventing the next great thing.

I’ve got an idea, it’s worked so far, I’ll be me for all of eternity. I’ll continue what was started until my last heartbeat. I’ll be thankful for all I have, be kind to all. I’ll be open to the possibilities that this vast universe has blessed me with. I’ll take risks stepping through doors that appear in front of me. I’ll love…yes I’ll put love all around me until I’m 53.

Then I’ll do it again…Happy Birthday Gary, Happy Birthday to me!

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Ghost Love

Photo courtesy of Cathy Sackett

                                          Photo courtesy of Cathy Sackett

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Love is inevitable
even to the most callous soul
grasping you when you don’t want it
peeking around corners when you do
enveloped vapors of your favorite perfume
stir the mixed emotions within
glances stolen and softly returned, unwittingly

when you love or you are loved
does it fade into the ethers?
does it fold inside itself, a billion times
does it turn into a cosmic event
creating new stars
does it radiate waves of energy
like the sun
as the planet turns to the dark side
does the sun turn off
does the radiation stop
just because it went around the corner

when felt, when you open and allow
it’s like a new dawn
mist in the valleys of despair, disappear
energy abounds, smiles appear
warmth gathers

when you think it leaves
and you get quiet
you can hear, smell and feel
that moment
of Ghost Love

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Positive Messages

Comfort Zone


I would like to take the time to say THANK YOU to all that post positive messages. I recently viewed some homecoming videos for soldiers and it zoomed me back in time when our son Tharon was crossing the oceans for our country. What makes it even more special is that he is comfortably sleeping in our spare bedroom visiting us from Illinois, transitioning to civilian life, making the salty tears of joy so sweet.

So easy to forget that these homecomings still happen, so easy to forget that many soldiers didn’t have love ones waiting for them and so easy to forget some tears were not for joy on their return.

My social commentary is simple. We, as a society, have become numb.

Thank you to those who stir the human emotions by example, daring to live outside the norm, beating your own drum, taking risks to do something greater. To those who Dream Big, Use Kind Words, Say I Love You, Say Please and Thank You, Being Grateful, Helping Others, Being Silly, Keeping Calm and Carrying On.

Have an Awesometastic day, week, month, year…Life

Colorful Bus Tour

The tour bus was filled of excited people, 30-40, I didn’t get a head count.

The mixture— a bachelor party group of guys who took time away from their dungeons and dragons convention to drink to the ye olde songs of yesteryear, making sure their sacrifice was sufficiently…let’s say hammered. Another grouping was a gaggle of women supporting their elder with a birthday celebration. Later at our first stop we were informed that they were of the LBGT community…like we didn’t know. And then there was my group, a small family, a 26 year old, heavily tattooed, recently out of the Army, son. My wife of 29 years, (our anniversary was this date, though we had our dinner nights before) a professional massage therapist who has embraced her calling of assisting people in this plane and others, yes, a psychic medium and there’s me— a 51 year old white man, or caucasian or former european immigrant or just a person who is embracing writing to express himself. Our driver was my same age, striking up a conversation prior to everyone loading in, finding out we were born in the same year, loves living out in the country, hunting and fishing on his 15 acres, rides Harley-Davidson motorcycles, genuinely smiles— must be my doppleganger.

The tour, Southern Beer Tours, took us to three local microbreweries so that we could immerse ourselves into the local flavors, mixing kindred spirits together in the quest to drink beer, socialize and have a safe fun time.

We intermingled here and there, though the D&D group was working hard to keep the bachelor sufficiently over the BAC level. He sure was young looking, younger as he visited the restroom on the first stop to purge the venom that his friends helped him ingest. It was at this time that the bus unanimously stated if he puked on the bus, the women would kick his ass. Our tour guide chirped in at this point and added the the clean up fee was $250.00. He held it in.

Our conversations were mainly with the women’s group, the lesbians, yes I said it. I’ve said it before, I’ve have known some. “Some”, like it’s an affliction, a disease. Oh, man I’m going to hell, I hung out with “them”.

I was given compliments on my son from “them”. It was stated he was “genuine”, “loving”, “he was a good kid” and “we did a good job raising him” were some of the statements. What parent wouldn’t want compliments like that!

It was our choice to raise him that way, be himself, search and question, don’t accept the status-quo, to live his life because it’s his. That it is alright to feel from the heart and look through the human bullshit. Supporting him from a distance, as he maneuvers through this thing called life.

We were invited after the tour to join “them” at the continuation of the elders party at a bar. We had dinner, shot some pool and made our way to our home.

I woke up this morning, looked in the mirror and noticed that I didn’t have any lesions, pocks or any signs of sickness. Made my way to the computer and confirmed friend requests from “them”. I didn’t explode when I pressed the button to accept “them” as friends.

The hell I’m living in is one of being in a society of intolerance with those who choose to live the top ten lines below:

Despising – Miserable
Vindictive – Evil
Condemning – Hopeless
Disdainful – Tragic
Punitive – Frightening
Denying – Disappointing
Vengeful – Antagonistic
Indifferent – Demanding
Permitting – Feasible
Enabling – Satisfactory
Inspiring – Hopeful
Merciful – Harmonious
Wise – Meaningful
Loving – Benign
One – Complete
All-Being – Perfect
Self – Is

In all branches of this tree of life there are good people and bad people, it’s just a question of where you want to be.

I didn’t get to spend any more time with the bus driver, my doppleganger. I want to, maybe I’ll look him up— he was black man, african-american or former immigrant.