Tag Archives: dailyprompt

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The Present: A Tightrope Walk Between Yesterday’s Echoes and Tomorrow’s Dreams

Do you spend more time thinking about the future or the past? Why?

The Present: A Tightrope Walk Between Yesterday’s Echoes and Tomorrow’s Dreams



Ah, the present moment, that elusive butterfly flitting between the tombstones of the past and the shimmering mirage of the future. Some say it’s a fleeting wisp, best savored with a mindfulness so intense it borders on the monastic. Others, with a wink and a sigh, declare it a playground for impulsive whims, a canvas splattered with the vibrant hues of reckless abandon. But what if the truth is far more intriguing? What if the present isn’t just a single note, but a grand symphony, where past and future weave their melodies in intricate counterpoint?

Karma, the echo of our yesterdays, clings to us like a forgotten melody. It whispers of choices made, paths taken, and consequences still to be faced. But is it a shackle, a weight that binds us to the failures of our past? Or is it a fire, a crucible that tempers our spirit, forging resilience and wisdom? Perhaps it’s both, a bitter pill that, when swallowed with courage, becomes the elixir of growth.

Then there’s Garma, the siren song of destiny, beckoning us towards the horizon, promising a future painted with the colors of our dreams. It’s the whisper of potential, the thrill of the unknown, the intoxicating taste of victory yet to be claimed. But beware, for Garma can be a fickle mistress, her promises laced with quicksand and mirage.

So, where does the present stand amidst this dance of ghosts and phantoms? Is it a mere spectator, caught in the crosshairs of yesterday’s regrets and tomorrow’s anxieties? No, the present is the tightrope walker, balancing on the fragile line between memory and anticipation. It’s the conductor, orchestrating the clamor of past and future into a harmonious whole.

But moderation, like a well-placed spice, is the key to this delicate act. Dwell too long on the past, and you risk turning it into a museum of regrets, its dusty exhibits suffocating the present’s breath. Gaze too fixedly at the future, and the present becomes a blur, its rich tapestry reduced to a fleeting glimpse.

No, the present demands a different dance. Let the past be the engine, its lessons fueling your actions. Let the future be the compass, its aspirations guiding your direction. And in the space between, in the here and now, let your creativity bloom, your courage roar, and your spirit soar.

So, dear friend, as you navigate this tightrope of time, remember: the present is not a singular note, but a symphony. Embrace the echoes of yesterday, listen to the whispers of tomorrow, and dance with all your might in the heart-stopping beauty of now.

© Jurgens Pieterse. All rights reserved, 2024.

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My heart desires a gift of true value.

What is the greatest gift someone could give you?

Forget expensive trinkets and forced smiles. My heart desires a gift of true value, one that cannot be wrapped, but rather shared. A piece of your heart, freely given, in the form of your undivided attention.

Let’s embark on a journey of shared moments, where we look beyond the surface and truly see each other. A dance of understanding, where reciprocal communication weaves a tapestry of connection. In the quiet space of your authentic presence, lies a gift that enriches us both.

So, carve out a space in your heart, and let’s weave this gift together, thread by thread, and celebrate the richness it brings.

Thank you dear readers if you read this space entry. Know the gift of your attention given, is value deeply. Give me a short comment and your gift will be perfect!

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Off-Roading: Where Boys Become Beasts (and Their Toys Become Weapons)

Do you play in your daily life? What says “playtime” to you?

Off-Roading: Where Boys Become Beasts (and Their Toys Become Weapons)


“Boys and their toys,” she scoffs, shaking her head as I fire up the engine. “Just wait till it explodes in a mud puddle.” But tonight, the only sparks flying are the ones erupting from under my four-wheeled beast as it claws its way into the inky maw of the mountain.

This isn’t playtime, sweetheart. This is war. My 4×4, my trusty warhorse, roars a battle cry as we charge against the darkness, headlights carving fleeting scars into the unknown. Each terrain, our enemy. Sand, a whispering siren luring us into treacherous speed. Rocks, teeth gnashing at our undercarriage, daring us to crawl over their petrified bones. Water, a gurgling abyss threatening to swallow us whole. Mud, a slippery trap, waiting to drown our engine in its oozing embrace.

They say, haven’t you truly lived if you haven’t gotten stuck? Not here, darling. Here, getting stuck is a baptism by fire, a trial by winch. It’s a puzzle with gears for teeth and mud for ink, testing every ounce of grit and ingenuity. And when the machine surrenders, it’s not defeat, it’s the ultimate test of the man behind the wheel. Every inch won back, a hard-earned trophy, a story etched in sweat and grime.

Risk, you call it? That’s the lifeblood of this game. Adrenaline, the fuel that courses through our veins, turning fear into exhilaration. Every climb, a gamble with gravity. Every splash, a dance with the unknown. This isn’t just driving, it’s a ballet of steel and earth, a symphony of roaring engines and crunching gravel. And the reward? More than just bragging rights by the campfire. It’s the raw thrill of conquering the unconquerable, the echo of laughter dancing on the wind, the unspoken bond forged in the face of impossible terrain.

So tonight, honey, don’t worry about the mud on the tires. It’s not just dirt, it’s the war paint of a warrior returned. And the stories I’ll tell? Well, let’s just say, they’ll make your hair stand on end, and your heart pound like a piston in overdrive.

© Jurgens Pieterse. All rights reserved. 2024

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Inner to outward relationship building.

What relationships have a positive impact on you?


In my life, several relationships act as pillars of influence and growth. These connections add significant value, fueling my pursuit of my core values: continuous learning, self-reliance, and making a net positive contribution to the world.

The most profound relationship exists within. It might seem self-centered, but spending the majority of life with oneself dictates its importance. A strained relationship with the self translates to unhappiness and hinders building meaningful connections with others. Therefore, I cultivate a positive and uplifting internal dialogue. While self-criticism is present, it manifests with the compassion I would extend to a dear friend. Valuing my independence and nurturing my being allow me to remain unburdened by expectations and undue attachment to others.

The relationship with my wife holds profound sway. She serves as a mirror to my authenticity, readily confronting discrepancies between my philosophies and actions. As the one closest to me, her voice has a unique vulnerability-inducing power. While a thousand voices might mock or condemn, a single gentle word from her can overwhelm me. This delicate space becomes my laboratory, where I continuously learn and cultivate virtues that foster healthy relationships.


My relationship with colleagues plays a crucial role in my ability to leave a positive mark on society. My work’s impact and effectiveness heavily rely on solid working relationships. While universal popularity isn’t necessary, mutual respect and appreciation are instrumental.

The most transformative relationships in my life reside within myself, with my wife, and with my colleagues. This list isn’t exhaustive, but these connections are undoubtedly instrumental in shaping me and propelling me forward.

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My Sanctuary of Unfurling Imagination

You get to build your perfect space for reading and writing. What’s it like?



Where will the inkwell of imagination freely flow?

In the hushed corners of a realm untouched by the cacophony of the everyday, resides my haven. It is not a monument to ostentatious displays, but a humble chamber where the river of words sings its secrets into the listening night. Here, in the quiet ballet of shadows and whispers, nuance dances, captured in the net of my full awareness.

A lone candle, like a guardian of forgotten lore, weaves its luminous spell, banishing the shadows of doubt and igniting the embers of thought. Its flame, a flickering metronome of insight, sets my imagination on a journey through starlit meadows and uncharted seas.

A swirl of sound, woven from the threads of soft music, carries me aloft on its feathered wings. It soothes the restless spirit, mending the tears in the fabric of my being, and liberates the captive bird of creativity within.

Upon a leather couch, worn soft by the caress of countless dreams, I sink into the present moment. Its embrace, familiar as the rhythm of my own breath, envelops me in a comforting cocoon of timelessness. Within arm’s reach, a trusted notebook and pen stand vigilant, ready to capture the flitting fireflies of inspiration that dance in the twilight of my mind.

In a curated corner, a silent library whispers tales of worlds unknown. Each book, a portal to an unseen dimension, beckons with promises of adventures yet to be lived, emotions yet to be felt. Their spines, like the weathered faces of ancient mariners, hold within them the whispers of a thousand storms and a million sunrises.

Nestled against the wall, a mirror reflects a silent dialogue with my own soul. Here, in the depths of my gaze, I confront the unmasked me, seeking solace in the quiet communion of self-discovery. To my left, a portrait of a solitary woman, lost in contemplation beside a communal bath, echoes my own introspective journey.

In this refuge, stories unfurl like silken banners against the entangled flow of time. Their threads, spun from vivid hues of imagination and the captivating melodies of my inner world, weave into tapestries of existence yet to be seen. It is a gateway to alternate realities, an invitation to explore the uncharted territories of the unspoken, the still-to-be-discovered.

This is not just a room, not just a physical space. It is a sanctuary of the soul, an inkwell where my deepest self bleeds onto the parchment of existence. It is here, in the hushed symphony of light, sound, and silence, that I slip into the very essence of myself, and emerge, forever changed, with stories dripping from my fingertips, ready to be poured onto thirsty pages for the world.

© Jurgens Pieterse, All rights reserved. 2023