Bob Adamcik

Fear…

Posted by Bob Adamcik | Mar 17, 2016 | Notes, Search | 0 |

…the greatest regret. Or, perhaps the source of all regrets? Fear of “where I dare not go?” Most of us (I won’t say all) have something we’re afraid of, at some level. Whatever it is,...

The singular place where we all come together…

Posted by Bob Adamcik | Mar 15, 2016 | Notes, Search | 0 |

…is in the unknown and the unknowable. Indeed, if as a race we could fall on our knees in wonder, humbled before the incomprehensible transcendence of existence, grateful for the privilege of participating…well, maybe we would...

When you’re ready for the lesson…

Posted by Bob Adamcik | Mar 14, 2016 | Notes, Search | 0 |

…a teacher comes along. I’m not sure how the universe manages this, but I’ve seen it over and over, sometimes after struggling with something for years. Maybe we’re really surrounded by teachers all the time,...

The whole enchilada…

Posted by Bob Adamcik | Mar 13, 2016 | Contentment, Happiness, Notes, Search, Self-image | 0 |

I’m quoting a favorite counselor here, from a conversation about personal growth. “Regardless of the issue,” she said, “if you want to deal with it, you have to accept the whole enchilada: I am who I...

I think we’re born seeking the Divine…

Posted by Bob Adamcik | Mar 11, 2016 | Meaning, Notes, Religion, Search | 0 |

…something beyond us, a great transcendence, frustrating our desire to conceive of it, to connect. But neither word nor thought is adequate, and we are left with an inner flame of longing. In our frustration and...

Our Mother Sat to Rest

Posted by Bob Adamcik | Mar 8, 2016 | Poems, Search | 0 |

Our mother sat to rest back down the way. We knew not, as she bid her shadow stay With us awhile. It was at noonday, bright With sun, when she complained of dying light, We grasped her arm and found a slack and thin Ethereal...

Priorities

Posted by Bob Adamcik | Mar 8, 2016 | Poems, Search | 1 |

I thought when first I held in store A silent, guarded bit of me That at last conquered your will, I was a child in fear of men. You, who vows like medals wore, To whom committal came so free, Were a woman — while I was...

Submission