Well, May has certainly not shaped up to be a good blogging month! Sometimes I think that this year has been one extended sickness. I caught a really bad cold in January that has never fully let me go. In April I discovered that cold had turned into a nasty sinus infection. I am currently on a second course of antibiotics, trying desperately to kick this thing in the butt.
All in all, I generally come home from work exhausted and functioning at 1/5 my normal energy level.
When I am back to being me (and bacteria free) I shall post again.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
In my Memory
from my journal - July 5, 2005
This year summer seems to be slipping away, right out from under my nose. When I was a kid, summers were eternal. A weaving of long days spent in, on and around the river. Scaling rock walls, swimming under the bridge, canoeing and watching my dad fly fish in the evenings.
When he would catch a salmon, which was often, I would watch him intently as he cleaned it right there at the edge of the river, first taking his jackknife to the skin, removing the scales and fins and then a slit right up the belly. Patiently I would wait for the heart, a perfectly pink little muscle about the size of a scallop that he would drop into my small hands. I was both horrified and intrigued as it continued to pump. When it would slow down I’d give it a poke and watch it contract again. Finally, when poking would no longer produce results, I’d place it at the very edge of the water and wait for the eel brave enough to come that close to shore.
Today there is nothing but blue sky above me. I sit on my deck listening to a quiet breeze rustle the maple and birch trees above my head. Their beautiful cadence is highlighted by the song of a morning bird and the jump and chirp of squirrels as they play from limb to limb.
It appears that I am nostalgic today. Sometimes it is difficult as an adult to be present in these moments, so many competing thoughts seek to distract. And yet, it is these very moments that bring me back to those eternal summers. A quiet mind removes me, albeit temporarily, from an overscheduled life.
As a child I had great freedom. In my town I knew everyone and they knew me – in fact most of them were my cousins, however many times removed! There were few restrictions on where I could or couldn’t go; what I could or couldn’t do. Moving from one blessed blue sky day into the next, all the while turning more golden brown and bleached out blonde. I knew great joy and almost nothing of fear.
My imagination ran wild. I was certain that I alone owned the river. I took such pleasure in it. In late August the water level would drop, revealing the shallow flat rock bottom. I would skip from rock to rock, jumping over small pools of water caught away from the main channel, begging for a heavy rain to reunite them. Years before, my dad as a boy, had carved his name into those very rocks. I loved knowing that the paths I traveled were so connected to his. I had big dreams in those days, of what I am not even sure. Who can know the power of a child’s mind, simple and pure and unafraid.
Yesterday I had no inkling that today, over a creamy cup of coffee in my back yard, hundreds of miles from that river and years removed from childhood, I would rediscover this unexpected bliss. The power is always within us, sometimes hidden beneath years of unswept leaves and pine needles. That special place for each of us, where we know great joy and almost nothing of fear.
This year summer seems to be slipping away, right out from under my nose. When I was a kid, summers were eternal. A weaving of long days spent in, on and around the river. Scaling rock walls, swimming under the bridge, canoeing and watching my dad fly fish in the evenings.
When he would catch a salmon, which was often, I would watch him intently as he cleaned it right there at the edge of the river, first taking his jackknife to the skin, removing the scales and fins and then a slit right up the belly. Patiently I would wait for the heart, a perfectly pink little muscle about the size of a scallop that he would drop into my small hands. I was both horrified and intrigued as it continued to pump. When it would slow down I’d give it a poke and watch it contract again. Finally, when poking would no longer produce results, I’d place it at the very edge of the water and wait for the eel brave enough to come that close to shore.
Today there is nothing but blue sky above me. I sit on my deck listening to a quiet breeze rustle the maple and birch trees above my head. Their beautiful cadence is highlighted by the song of a morning bird and the jump and chirp of squirrels as they play from limb to limb.
It appears that I am nostalgic today. Sometimes it is difficult as an adult to be present in these moments, so many competing thoughts seek to distract. And yet, it is these very moments that bring me back to those eternal summers. A quiet mind removes me, albeit temporarily, from an overscheduled life.
As a child I had great freedom. In my town I knew everyone and they knew me – in fact most of them were my cousins, however many times removed! There were few restrictions on where I could or couldn’t go; what I could or couldn’t do. Moving from one blessed blue sky day into the next, all the while turning more golden brown and bleached out blonde. I knew great joy and almost nothing of fear.
My imagination ran wild. I was certain that I alone owned the river. I took such pleasure in it. In late August the water level would drop, revealing the shallow flat rock bottom. I would skip from rock to rock, jumping over small pools of water caught away from the main channel, begging for a heavy rain to reunite them. Years before, my dad as a boy, had carved his name into those very rocks. I loved knowing that the paths I traveled were so connected to his. I had big dreams in those days, of what I am not even sure. Who can know the power of a child’s mind, simple and pure and unafraid.
Yesterday I had no inkling that today, over a creamy cup of coffee in my back yard, hundreds of miles from that river and years removed from childhood, I would rediscover this unexpected bliss. The power is always within us, sometimes hidden beneath years of unswept leaves and pine needles. That special place for each of us, where we know great joy and almost nothing of fear.
Tell me whacha want...
I realized this morning that I have been creating and perpetuating confusion in my life recently. But all is not lost, sometimes it is good to get confused and travel out of bounds, if for not other reason than it makes the right road look, well, more right!
But to clarify...I'm not holding myself to being on the right road!
A few days ago I started a new blog. More accurately I created a template. I didn't actually make an entry until today. I've made a conscious decision to keep it private. I have found that I enjoy working things out via the blogging process and the ability to blog regardless of my location or worrying about losing files from crashing computers.
I believe that this new blog will eventually serve as a business plan, be it unconventional. It will be a secret place to grow and energize the direction and doors I will open in the coming years. I have expectation that the blog itself will become an embedded aspect of the business and will someday be very public. Just not right now.
No worry, I will continue to drone on and on here! This will be for my confusion, the other for my clarity!
But to clarify...I'm not holding myself to being on the right road!
A few days ago I started a new blog. More accurately I created a template. I didn't actually make an entry until today. I've made a conscious decision to keep it private. I have found that I enjoy working things out via the blogging process and the ability to blog regardless of my location or worrying about losing files from crashing computers.
I believe that this new blog will eventually serve as a business plan, be it unconventional. It will be a secret place to grow and energize the direction and doors I will open in the coming years. I have expectation that the blog itself will become an embedded aspect of the business and will someday be very public. Just not right now.
No worry, I will continue to drone on and on here! This will be for my confusion, the other for my clarity!
Sunday, May 06, 2007
Off Broadway, My Favorite Productions
“First the stalk - then the roots. First the need - then the means to satisfy that need. First the nucleus - then the elements needed for its growth.” Robert Collier
Finding clarity of purpose, I am discovering, is a journey to the deepest part of my person. I've always had a twinge of envy toward my friends and colleagues who seem to innately know what it is that they want out of life. However, I must put a disclaimer on this, that these people are rare individuals indeed. They are not found amongst the masses.
In many respects I have great clarity of life in general these days. There are few illusions or disillusions - things just are as they are. It is both easy and dangerous to apply the rules of coincidence to the lives we lead. Everything leads somewhere and eventually comes back around. Should this coming back around direct our path? I have no firm answer.
The art of living is so much simpler than I ever would have imagined just a few years ago. I've given up wondering why the cycle of life is what it is, although I do believe it has something to do with karma and spirits that sojourn for eternity. It is easy to get misdirected in this flash of time we are given to experience the mystery of life.
It seems that whatever challenge is in my path, a bible verse or fragment manifests in my consciousness. Today, very strong in my mind eye is:
"Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened." And,
"Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it." Matthew 7.
Last night Jeremy came home after several days away and having just written an important exam. He was tired and discouraged. I used to think that tired and discouraged were detrimental places to reside, I now think differently. It is here that we come closest to finding clarity of purpose. It is here that we evaluate the broad way and look for the narrow gate. It is here that we forget about status and cash flow and learn to open ourselves up by baring our souls with humility. Here we are able to glimpse, even touch and stir if we are daring enough, what it would be like to live with passion and purpose.
The broad way is a marketplace. It is full of illusionists and magicians and marketing seducers who do not want us to dig deeper. They want us shallow and mesmerized by shinny whirligigs, believing that we must constantly upgrade to the newer better version as that will convince us that we too are constantly getting better.
Finding the narrow way and staying on this way comes via seeking and asking and opening up for receiving. I'm getting better at baring my soul in humility - not to the masses but those who also are seeking and asking. And I am getting better at discerning mere coincidences. And I've finally lived enough to know when life is on repeat and requires a channel change to stop the insanity of a groundhog day gone awry.
Playing safe is probably the most unsafe thing in the world. You cannot stand still. You must go forward. Robert Collier
Finding clarity of purpose, I am discovering, is a journey to the deepest part of my person. I've always had a twinge of envy toward my friends and colleagues who seem to innately know what it is that they want out of life. However, I must put a disclaimer on this, that these people are rare individuals indeed. They are not found amongst the masses.
In many respects I have great clarity of life in general these days. There are few illusions or disillusions - things just are as they are. It is both easy and dangerous to apply the rules of coincidence to the lives we lead. Everything leads somewhere and eventually comes back around. Should this coming back around direct our path? I have no firm answer.
The art of living is so much simpler than I ever would have imagined just a few years ago. I've given up wondering why the cycle of life is what it is, although I do believe it has something to do with karma and spirits that sojourn for eternity. It is easy to get misdirected in this flash of time we are given to experience the mystery of life.
It seems that whatever challenge is in my path, a bible verse or fragment manifests in my consciousness. Today, very strong in my mind eye is:
"Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened." And,
"Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it." Matthew 7.
Last night Jeremy came home after several days away and having just written an important exam. He was tired and discouraged. I used to think that tired and discouraged were detrimental places to reside, I now think differently. It is here that we come closest to finding clarity of purpose. It is here that we evaluate the broad way and look for the narrow gate. It is here that we forget about status and cash flow and learn to open ourselves up by baring our souls with humility. Here we are able to glimpse, even touch and stir if we are daring enough, what it would be like to live with passion and purpose.
The broad way is a marketplace. It is full of illusionists and magicians and marketing seducers who do not want us to dig deeper. They want us shallow and mesmerized by shinny whirligigs, believing that we must constantly upgrade to the newer better version as that will convince us that we too are constantly getting better.
Finding the narrow way and staying on this way comes via seeking and asking and opening up for receiving. I'm getting better at baring my soul in humility - not to the masses but those who also are seeking and asking. And I am getting better at discerning mere coincidences. And I've finally lived enough to know when life is on repeat and requires a channel change to stop the insanity of a groundhog day gone awry.
Playing safe is probably the most unsafe thing in the world. You cannot stand still. You must go forward. Robert Collier
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
All Lies in Jest
Long before I ever heard the beautiful melodies and guitar riffs of Simon & Garfunkel, I fell deeply in love with their lyrics. Little did I know that the sweet words I studied as poems were in fact only half of the story. To find that these words were accompanied with soul rippling harmony brought me to tears the first time I ever had the pleasure.
So tonight I indulged myself in parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme. And it was indeed a fragrant and refreshing bouquet. It is only Wednesday but the week has been wrought with fatigue and a few ill mannered children.
Sometimes tiredness brings me to a mellow place. Other times it brings me to a place where I wonder how I could ever possibly choose the way. During these times it is good to feel something akin to kinder, gentler. To know that within resides a fighter that still remains.
I've squandered my resistance for a pocketful of mumbles,
So tonight I indulged myself in parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme. And it was indeed a fragrant and refreshing bouquet. It is only Wednesday but the week has been wrought with fatigue and a few ill mannered children.
Sometimes tiredness brings me to a mellow place. Other times it brings me to a place where I wonder how I could ever possibly choose the way. During these times it is good to feel something akin to kinder, gentler. To know that within resides a fighter that still remains.
I've squandered my resistance for a pocketful of mumbles,
such are promises
All lies and jest, still the man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest, hmmmm
Asking only workman's wages, I come lookin for a job,
All lies and jest, still the man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest, hmmmm
Asking only workman's wages, I come lookin for a job,
but I get no offers
Just a comeon from the whores on 7th avenue
I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there
Now the years are rolling by me, they are rockin even me
I am older than I once was, and younger than Ill be,
Just a comeon from the whores on 7th avenue
I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there
Now the years are rolling by me, they are rockin even me
I am older than I once was, and younger than Ill be,
thats not unusual
In the clearing stands a boxer, and a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders of every glove
In the clearing stands a boxer, and a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders of every glove
that laid him down or cut him
til he cried out in his anger and his shame
I am leaving, I am leaving, but the fighter still remains
til he cried out in his anger and his shame
I am leaving, I am leaving, but the fighter still remains
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