September 30, 2010

...and the angels thwacked her on the head....

I am an artist with dust on my brushes, I am a writer with thousands of words still in my head, I am not living up to my full potential.

Just updated my blog and a little blurp at the bottom of the page said:
"You are using 11MB of your allotted 1028"!

Damn! The angels sure have a way of getting their message across!

A Walk On The River Trail

Who has stood here before me?

What were they thinking?

Where were they going?

Were they Wandering and Wondering?

September 29, 2010

Open Book

Do you ever find your self distracted by a simple phrase or maybe even just a word or two while reading? You find that you have read two pages without being cognizant because your mind wandered off with thoughts inspired by the words.

I must confess, for someone who meditates and preaches the practice of "awareness" my mind is predictably unpredictable! (Makes sense to me, so deal with it!)

This morning one of the characters in the book I am reading used the phrase "open book". Without benefit of a count down  my mind blasted off to the ethers.

"Open Book."  What is an open book? Who is an Open Book?  My mother insists that my brother, sister and I are open books and she isn't smiling when she says it!

I don't agree with her a hundred percent. I would suggest that if the three of us could be referred to as books, we would be books resting gently at eye level; not on a high precipice nor buried deep in a cabinet, but books easily within reach. If you open it and read a little, or as you pick up one of the little volumes and it falls open to any page that inspires a question, we are pretty forthcoming with an answer. Not because we are anxious to share all the bits and pieces but that, to us, the bits and pieces are just that....bits and pieces. Individual bits and pieces do not define us. Though there are people who have let this 'bit" or that "piece" from their past or maybe their family's history define who they are or who they have become.

What if you are an "open book"? Should one be more protective of those moments of thier lives when maybe they made mistakes or got too close to the edge? What's the use of those experiences if they can't be used to teach or inform? Should one feel guilty because they don't guard the story more tightly?

What about those who not only don't open the book but keep the tome shut and locked away in a cellar of personal memory, locked up tight? Warning: don't even think about asking!

A dear friend, a long time ago, had a pat answer for any questions that he thought were inappropriate.

"Why do you want to know?" he would ask the curious.

 Whatever their response was, he always answered, "Well, that's not reason enough!"

He wasn't really a private person, he just didn't want to feed morbid curiousity. (Was he thinking, "Inquiring minds should get a life!") I have actually been known to use the same trick but not to keep things private but just to see if I could actually get away with it!

What we share and don't share of our own lives and thoughts and actions should be a personal choice,  shouldn't it? If I choose to be an open book one week and keep the book closed the next, isn't it my decision?

Someone else may choose to put a lock and key on the book and stand beside it with a loaded gun in case you get too close. My advice to you would be that if you see someone standing next to a dusty book with a cocked pistol in hand you should keep your questions simple; "Would you like tea or coffee, how about a little sugar?"

What about those of us who have the book open to just one page. That page and no other. What has become of the story before that page and what of the story since that page? Another man I knew a long time ago who was an awesome, winning high school quarterback let that short page in his book define his story forevermore. He believed he never was that great since then, he never saw the love and admiration in his children's eyes nor that of his wife because he only heard the echo of days gone by and believed himself to be a has-been, sadly living in the shadow of yesterday's glory. What of those who choose only to dart in and out of the darkness of yesterday's tragedy or trespass. Afraid to love, afraid to live, afraid to turn the page and read how life did, truly, go on.

What is the state of your book? Is it open, can you turn your pages freely and read what was and look forward to what is coming? If you are protective of it has the "protecting" of it become more important than the "living" of it? Can you honor the choices of others to keep their books in whatever state they have choose?

In my humble opinion, it is a choice we all make. Free will, after all, was God's idea. It is not for me to insist we all open those books, or share just this page or that or slam them shut. It is, though, again I say humbly, that we should be aware of the choice we made and own it, be conscious of it.

Is your book open? Did you decide to stick with one page? Is it under lock and key? Are you the author or are you letting someone else write your book?

September 27, 2010

Partisan Politics


1.noun; an adherent or supporter of a person, group, party, or cause, esp. a person who shows a biased, emotional allegiance.


Military . a member of a party of light or irregular troops engaged in harassing an enemy, esp. a member of a guerrilla band engaged in fighting or sabotage against an occupying army.

If our congress was actually a marriage between two people, say the wife is (flip a coin: Heads) the Democrat and the husband is Republican (sorry, tails) in America today I would have to venture a guess that our divorce rate would be about 98%.

You see, there would be no listening with the goal of trying to learn or understand. If any listening was happening at all it would be with the intention of trying to find something to trip the other up with. Instead of rings our marriage ceremonies would consist of exchanging sticks to draw lines in the dirt....."Cross this line, Sucka!"

The first marriage was just such a marriage, Lilith and Adam, both wanted to be on top. Winning and being on top was most important, no one cared to listen and learn to compromise. Democrats and Republicans...oops, my mistake....Democrats vs Republicans.....what a circus. Do any of the politicians today really care about helping the American people, do they care about making this a country where we can honor our roots and our future? Is biased, emotional allegiance a solid foundation for good listening skills? If we are engaged in harassing or consumed with fighting or sabotaging instead of trying to understand and cooperate what is our future?

Will every president spend the first four years in office trying not to offend too many people so that there is a second term in the future at the detriment of the American citizen...which, by the way, includes the future of our babies and children.

When will partisanship be left at the door and genuine-ship, caring-ship, honor-ship come to the forefront of American politics?

September 14, 2010

My Tree Is Full Of Apples

Scrolling down through Facebook this morning, who's doing what, who's harvesting cranberries and who's giving away shovels. My eyes locked onto the post from Linda, "My tree is full of apples." She is actually inviting any takers to come pick fresh apples but in my idealistic mind it was the same as "my cup is half full."

Now it is my long standing philosophy that my cup runneth over but there are times when that personal philosophy is blurred just the littlest bit in the fog of daily living. I always know in my heart that the belief is there but it can be reduced to a mere shadow when the mind starts its anxiety-ridden fretting about things and stuffs of maybe's and maybe not's.

Whenever we drop our awareness and the total commitment to being present in our life we can become entangled in ghostly what if's. Those "what ifs" are a blight on our apple trees, drying up the lovely red fruit as it clings to the tree, fighting to not be dropped prematurely. Can you imagine what would happen if a tree, filled with the promise of spring blossoms started to fret about the possibility of an early frost? Would it accept the tickle of the bees buzzing from blossom to blossom? Would the tree, so focused on the possibility of some future "maybe" be unable to dedicate its energy to producing even the scrawniest of fruit let alone a big crisp fruit worthy of polishing and giving to a favorite teacher?

Can one's glass be half full if the glass becomes obsessed with the possibility of the liquid being consumed? Could the anxiety of glass produce enough heat to vaporize its contents?

Tell me, do you sometimes let your mind take over your heart, your tomorrow consume your today? Does your stress vaporize your contents? Does your fruit dry up on the stem? It happens to me sometimes, but, luckily I read simple statements that remind me just how wonderful and blessed my life has been and is. My cup runneth over and my tree is full of apples.