Kim's Korner: A Place for Words

Tuesday, March 09, 2010

Rushing from Past to Eternity

Meet Tom Rush

From the cramped space of my college dorm room and the defined limits of my young adult life, the voice of Tom Rush, gentle and filled with melancholy, touches my mind, my soul and reminds me that there are those who capture life in ballads and tunes hauntingly impassioned.

Tom Rush has both lyrics and music that are of a time gone by. Heck, even for the years of his popularity, he was singing stories and a style from the days of cowboy ballads and hobo songs.

Look him up. Take a trip on some of his lyrics, or just sit back and have your heart rocked lovingly by Maggie from "Ladies Love Outlaws."

Labels: emotion, meanderings, music, songs, stories, word play

Saturday, March 06, 2010

Beautiful Day

One day last month I had the privilege of meeting not one but two of North Carolina's nicest and most beautiful women: Nadia Moffett, Miss North Carolina USA and Lauren Ashley, Miss North Carolina Teen USA. As you can see, I was thrilled.

What is more, both ladies were well spoken, professional and honored by their role.

Lauren Ashley, Miss NC Teen USA

Nadia Moffett, Miss NC USA

Labels: blogging, life on life's terms, meanderings, social networking

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Writing Prompt - Dolphin Musing

Dolphin Musing

Using a writers prompt, I penned these words and posted them elsewhere previously. May they bring you some of the peace that they brought me this day.

"Write a one-page description of what it would be like to swim with dolphins."

It seems like more than a few years ago. I stood on the bridge spanning the inlet at St. Augustine, Fl. Statuary of regal lions poised themselves as sentries guarding access, an access now in no need of guards, concrete or otherwise, a mere gateway from one tourist infested section of the town to another.

That evening, late, I stood on the crest of the low bridge and gazed blankly into the grey swirl of sea below. Small caps of sea foam occasionally formed and then faded, improbable punctuations, a writer's words quickly deleted returning the emptiness to the page. I had been unable to write for weeks. My mind blank, no, so filled with images and sensations falling over each other in chaos that no assembly of words could seem to contain my thoughts. So there the formless confusion of my mind was met by its reflection there in the dark sea.

The first one almost escaped my attention. A thin slice of light grey broke the ocean plain, a small twist of foam, and it was gone. I strained to see. I heard the song. At first I thought it was the wind carrying children's voices, softly to my ears. Then I saw them, dolphins. They swam below me, hiding just beneath the sea's veil, shadows, wisps of silver form. I leaned over the railing, dangerously far. They circled below me, entwining among themselves. There where three of them, two adults and a small one. They seemed unaware of anything but their own dance. What grace and poise they created with movements so fluid and quick; touches so gentle and tender.

I fell. Somehow my foothold failed and although I grabbed hold of the rail, my body already hung over the side and my one handed grip wasn't enough. I tumbled the few feet and into the surf. I felt the sting of the water's chill. It had barely warmed from these early spring days. Something brushed my side and I felt myself being pushed toward the surface. I lifted my head to the night air, rubbed the salt water from my eyes, and as I began to tread water, was astonished to see the smallest of the trio of dolphins floating just inches from my face. It rolled onto one side, exposing one eye to the surface and lifting a fin as if to wave. I laughed. I heard them sing again. A gentle high note that seemed to hang in the air and settle in my soul, even more, it settled my soul.

The two adults were on each side of me now, and as I shifted my weight and began floating on my back, I could feel them moving around me. Soon, there dance included me. I joined them. I swam gently, rolling my body with the shift of the currents, allowing my hands to touch them and then the sea. I closed my eyes and listened to their song and swam with them.

Perhaps it was the caress of the sea, or the magic of the moment, or maybe just the release of my daily constraints, but, my head spun in delight and I felt a drug-like euphoria rise within my being. I was at once lost in bliss and fully present with myself.

Later, they bid me farewell and I felt a bit of sadness as they vanished into the darkness of the night and the vastness of the sea. I know that I found something that night. For even now, years later, I can close my eyes, breathe in the smell of the sea, and hear their song, the song I learned the night I swam with the dolphins.

Labels: meanderings, prose, stories, word play, writing

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Amusing Myself - Critical Conversing

Amusing Myself

Me: You are dancing again.

Muse: Yes.

Me: Have you missed it?

Muse: The dancing?

Me: Yes, the dancing.

Muse: Yes, but I have missed other things more.

Me: Really? What?

Muse: I have missed the attentive look on your face as you treasure me.

Me: Treasure you? That is a bit assumptive of you.

Muse: Perhaps, but I see it tonight in your eyes.

Me: You annoy me sometimes with you self assurance.

Muse: I'm not so assured, so confident about most things. But, I know you.

Me: Indeed you do.

Muse: Dance with me.

Me: I already am.

Muse: Do you love me?

Me: Always.

Muse: I'm glad.

Me: So am I, eventhough it keeps me forever troubled.

Muse: Troubled?

Me: Perhaps unsettled would be a better word.

Muse: If you were not unsettled by me, you would be worthless, you know.

Me: Yes, and sometimes I get tired of the desire, the longing, the...

Muse: Amusement?

Me: You make me smile.

Muse: I make you laugh.

Me: And dance.

Muse: I dance for you.

Me: Thank you.

Muse: You make me laugh.

Me: I know. I know. Shut up and dance.

Labels: meanderings, prose, sacred moments, spirituality, stories, word play, writing

Thursday, February 18, 2010

In The Sand*

In the sand

Our foot prints

Hearts

Shells

Kisses

Lines left by the tide

Castles

Dog paws

Cans

Bodies

Tears

Clothes

Dreams

Names

Our Life time

In the sand

*I grew up at the beach. I spent a great deal of time day and night, wandering the shores, feeling and exploring the sands of that shore and all that could be lived and love. There isn't much I haven't done on those shores. There is a lot of life lived, left and found there...

Labels: beach, meanderings, poetry, sacred moments, stories, word play, writing

Saturday, February 13, 2010

Simply Move

Hanging on the wall in my office, there is a picture of a tree that changes color and definition to reflect the four seasons. As you walk by the angle of the print causes the tree to shift from a winter scene of bare branches and snow, through sprouting spring foliage, the full greening of summer and then the autumn leaves of fall. From my desk seat, it always looks like autumn.

I like seeing the different images of the picture. The variety, changing colors and images offers a nice change from what is often the static unchanging art of an office space. There are times when I will just move to a different place in my office to see and enjoy the picture differently. It isn't that I don’t like seeing the fall tree, I do. I like seeing the other images, too.

Here’s my thought: My living is often the same way. It is easy to settle into the same routine, the same patterns of moving through life and soon – everything seems to look stagnant. In the same way I have to get up and move to a different place in my office to see the variety of the tree picture, I can move to a different place in my living to see life with new colors.

From a simple move, like visiting a different coffee shop, to a more dramatic change, like ending or starting a new relationship, we can experience the very different seasons of our living. I’m not advocating change for change sake, but I am encouraging myself to remember that sometimes I need t move a little and change my perspective in order to appreciate the rich variety of life.

I sat in a meeting yesterday with a successful local entrepreneur – a very rich man. He was clearly tired, almost exhausted throughout the meeting. After we had finished our business discussions, the conversation shifted as he explained his fatigue. He had spent the previous evening volunteering at a local homeless shelter. As he begin to tell the tale of his time helping others that night his energy lifted, his spirit soared and the conversation moved me to a different place. The business of life glowed more brightly than the drab hues of the previous conversation about his business.

Get up. Move. See. Enjoy.

Labels: blogging, emotion, life on life's terms, meanderings, word play, writing

Thursday, February 11, 2010

12 Words Stolen by The Internet

This week another innocent word was commandeered and made to serve a new master and a new meaning. The vocabulary of our world is being stolen and redefined. Words are re-purposed right before our eyes!

Google announced the launch of a new Social Tool and it is named “Buzz,” Google Buzz to be more precise. The Internet is now buzzing (the way the word use to be used) about Buzz. This re-purposing of innocent words isn't new. Here are some others…

Tweet – use to be a sound a bird made.

CD – once referred to a bank note, Certificate of Deposit

Web – was once something a spider wove

Net – was a web of rope used to catch fish

Wave – use to refer to something you rode with a surf board, then a thing the spectators did at games, and now is something that belongs to Google – in beta.

Flicker – was the way a flame moved

Picasso – was a painter you studied in art class

Mouse – was a small rodent

Windows – were part of a house

Friend – was someone you liked and spent actual time with from school, work, the house next door

Caffeine - formally linked to beverages is now another - you guessed it - Google Product

What is a writer to do? What’s next - Microsoft ‘Prose’ or Google ‘Poetry?’

Labels: blogging, emotion, lists, meanderings, social networking, word play, writing

Tuesday, February 09, 2010

Another Stranger I'll Never Know

Her head turned and she gazed over her shoulder, across the red silk of her blouse, rippled by the tilt of her head, the pivot of her neck. Her jade eyes, clear and moist, seemed to find mine and I felt a stirring of hope, a long absent curiosity. I wondered about speaking to her, just a word to break the translucent expectations that divided us, that had always divided us and made us strangers. My mind raced to summon the right words. My legs flexed to stand, to walk.

She turned, her hair sliding back into place along her back, bouncing, as if swaying to the final measure of some distant rhythm, and she was gone – again.

Labels: emotion, life on life's terms, meanderings, prose, word play, writing

Friday, February 05, 2010

How We Do Winter In North Carolina

Since this area is due for some more winter weather, I thought I would share some of an email I received last week…

In case you're new to our area, let me tell you how we do winter here.

Someone somewhere says snow is coming to North Carolina.
We start paying attention.
Someone says it's coming to the Triad.
Now we really start paying attention.
Someone brandishes the word "accumulation." Done. Finished. Over. We who call North Carolina home all-out lose our minds.

In the case of this snow, it happens like this:

Tuesday morning: The word "accumulation" is used.
Tuesday afternoon: Accumulation confirmed. All weekend plans put on stand-by or out-right canceled.
Tuesday evening: First trip to supermarket for bread, milk, wine, beer and cookie dough.
Wednesday morning / afternoon: Calls around town for sleds begin. No one has them.
Wednesday evening: Local news does a story about the run on supermarkets for bread and milk. Second trip to supermarket for extra bread and milk, plus frozen pizzas and non-perishables, because you never know.
Thursday morning / afternoon: Spend workday obsessively checking the forecast. More calls for sleds. Search online for sleds, but decide against them because you can't believe how much sleds actually cost.
Thursday evening: Meet friends out for drinks or dinner because you never know when you'll get out again. Realize you forgot to buy bagels. How could you forget bagels? Third trip to supermarket.
Friday morning: Alternate staring out window for snow and consulting forecast for exact snow start time. Cancel the rest of weekend plans.
Friday afternoon: Weather.com reports that it is snowing in your area. Run to window. Spend at least one hour yelling at weather.com because it is clearly not snowing. Ask boss about company inclement weather policy. Complain about said policy. Wait an hour; ask boss if company is closing early.
Friday evening: Fourth trip to supermarket on the way home for last-minute necessities, like chocolate and fancy hot cocoa. Alternate staring out window and watching local news for exact snow start time. Watch the Closings scroll to see if your work is closed on Monday, because you never know.
Friday night: Snow finally begins. Call/text all of your friends and family to see if it's snowing in their area and to make sure they're OK in the storm. Update Facebook status to reflect snowfall in case you missed anyone. Order pizza so you don't have to break into rations too soon.
Saturday morning: Marvel at snowfall. Fling pets / children into the snow so they can marvel and so you have pictures for your Facebook page.
Saturday afternoon: Drive or trudge to nearest hill and attempt to sled on a cookie sheet/shower curtain/trashcan lid/pool float.
Saturday evening: Meet friends out for drinks or dinner to celebrate snow.
Sunday: Eat leftover pizza and stare out window, watching snow melt. Obsessively watch Closings list. Feel happy when the county you once lived in announces closing and then sad because you never became a teacher and now you have to go out, clean off the car and then go to work tomorrow. Plus you've got all that bread and milk to eat.

Labels: meanderings, weather, word play, writing

Friday, January 29, 2010

Dancing Death

The painter stands apart from the painting

The poet lays aside the parchment

The sculptor steps back from the statue

Each, in turns applies craft upon an object

Releasing it, complete and whole

They remain.

Where then, do we find the line separating the dancer from the dance?

Body, spirit and movement are at once creator and creation

The dance exists only with and only in a moment of movement

And in its incessant demand to be, the dance will – always does –

Consume the dancer leaving

Him draped across the floor

Her broken over the chair

Leaving them worn thin in each other’s arms

Only able to gasp a memory of remembering

The dance, only shadows of their life

Gone

Is the dance

As the dance continues upon

Another

one, two, three…

Labels: meanderings, music, poetry, sacred moments, stories

Friday, January 08, 2010

10 Observations While Having Pneumonia

1. You CAN watch too much CSI

2. You can cough until you puke

3. You can be hungry and too tired to eat

4. Soup is good. Chili not so much

5. Prednisone is an evil drug

6. This isn't my body and I want out

7. Coughing can make you sore in places you didn't know you had

8. It would be helpful if you didn't actually have to breath

9. It is a good time to grow beard

10. My wife is a saint

Labels: common cold, family, life on life's terms, meanderings

Friday, October 23, 2009

My Life Is Waffle House!?

It is very interesting what one can learn from listening.

I treated my appetite and ignored my need for low a cholesterol diet (shhhh! If you don’t tell my doctor, it doesn’t count), and had breakfast at Waffle House "the other day." As I ate, I listened.

Karen is in her mid thirties, has two children and hates it when her kids stay home for snow days. She drives an older Nissan. She has a small space between her two front teeth that she tries to hide by rolling her lip over them when she is laughing. It doesn’t work.

The cook, an all but kid in his twenties, plans to get his GED this year and then study at the community college, or maybe join the Navy. He likes his job, and doesn’t cook rubber eggs. I think that is considered an accomplishment. I know my eggs were very tasty. I think his name is Mack, or Mick. He didn’t have on a name tag.

Betty is clearly the matriarch of the group. She smiles as she listens to the banter of the ‘younger’ staff. She moves effortlessly from one task to the next, often working ahead of the others. She greets regulars by their first name, or with a knowing nod. Her under the cuff comments to the others often brings a smile or a giggle. Betty is, and wants to be the Queen of the WaffleHouse.

As I sat at the counter, eating my cheese eggs, grits and butter soaked raisin toast, gazing at the laminated menu pictures of the many heart-stopping, artery clogging, cholesterol enhanced foods, this thought crossed my mind: Is there really a difference between any of our lives, other than the package that that life might reside in?

Labels: blogging, coffee, emotion, life on life's terms, meanderings, travel, writing

Tuesday, October 06, 2009

The One Word for Access to Success

Yoda said it this way, “There is no try. Only do or do not.”

Nike said, “Just Do It!”

The word is out, and yet we too often keep using it. My days are busy rushing to get things done, and someone asks me to do one more thing. Instinctively, I hedge my commitment with, “I’ll try.” A colleague offers a valid improvement in my technique and suggests that I make a change. Hesitantly I agree, “O.K. I’ll try.”

The difference e between saying “try” and “do” may seem subtle, but it is powerful.

Find a pencil or pen right now.

Yes. Really. Go find one.

Set the pencil on the table in front of you. Now ‘try’ and pick it up. Fact is, either you did it, or you didn’t. Yoda is right. There is no try. Try is something we are not committed to doing.

My suggestion for today is that we stop saying ‘try’ and make the commitment to do things we need to do, or simply want to do. Proclaiming “I’ll do it” may lead us to failure, but failure is the friction that makes success possible – and that is another post…

Do It!

Labels: life on life's terms, meanderings, word play, writing

Saturday, September 26, 2009

I Found Myself Humming

I found myself

Humming into the mattress

With you

It was an accidental thing

An exhale that sent a slight vibration

Through the sheets

I enjoyed the sound

The sense

Of my humming

Beside you – with you

The vibrant ripples made me giggle

And roll joyfully

Leaving all tension and dis-ease

I found myself

Humming into the mattress

Thank you

Labels: emotion, family, life on life's terms, meanderings, music, poetry

Tuesday, September 08, 2009

The Beach Remembers

The beach remembers

Lover's tastes and trash

And it can't forget

Too many breezes blow

In strong currents

And sand tossing tourists

Piles of humanity

Discarded playthings

And burnt butts

Cans crushed under foot

Seasoned among sea oats

And barley stained

His hands upon her

Rumpled sands swaying

And tides wetting

Every passion gets remembered

By the beach beneath us

And our trash

Labels: emotion, family, life on life's terms, meanderings, poetry, sacred moments, sea, spirituality, vacation destinations

Monday, August 31, 2009

Dangerous Passions?

A number of weeks back, several friends sent me the same link to a wonderful video of Elizabeth Gilbert speaking on the angst of artistic genius. I'm not purporting to be a genius, but I have had my share of artistic challenges.

My first true passion was acting. I felt more alive when acting, soaking up the spot light and wrestling with the nuances of character development than I did living my real life. I achieved some modest success while making acting my hobby throughout my life including some professional time with a North Carolina Shakespeare Company, and several cable-run commercials. During college I discovered creative writing and I've had a few article published (during my time as a pastor). Sermon writing, at its best, is a highly creative venue and I relished in both the creation and presentation of sermons for 15 years.

In each of my creative adventures, I discovered the same reality – satisfaction of the urge to create and the compulsion to be a part of something new and dramatic is fleeting.

Often, upon reflection on my own creative internal disturbance, I am left with the following apparent and unsavory thought - The creative spirit, as embodied in so many artists, is its own bane. The artist can devote his/herself to the task fully and in doing so risk a rapid burn or can deny the very passion of the soul and lead a life of frustrated mediocrity. My trouble with this thought is that I don’t want it to be true. Is it possible for an artist to pursue his passion and not self destruct? Is there something in the nature of art that demands the humanity of the artist and leaves her broken?

There is more to say here, but I would rather leave it for your comments. So, dear reader, is your artistic passion dangerous?

Labels: blogging, emotion, life on life's terms, meanderings, poetry, prose, writing

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Ride The Storm Out

Have you ever had to write?

I have.

There are times when the creative urge within us demands to be released and those of us that contain even the smallest creative tendency are imposed upon – it is a tempest. For these are the moments when the convergence of internal climates mock the posing power of even the most extreme external weather - for in these moments, the storm of passion assails us and we can but ride the storm out.

Sometimes the storm washes up marvelous beauty upon the sands for others to find as they walk by. Sometimes.

Labels: blogging, life on life's terms, meanderings, prose, sacred moments, spirituality, writing

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

A Pending Epitaph - Paint Me Not

Paint Me Not

Paint me not in shades of brilliant blue and red

Coloring over my misguided lines of glossy black

And smeared greys

Don’t layer me over with sentiment and morality

Forgetting my deformity of thought

And bare deeds

Have the fortitude to lay it out

As I was and am naked and old, withered

And decaying now

My life will be dust soon enough and should not be concealed while it can be revealed.

Note: Inspiration comes when it is ready. I was viewing a photo and a post over at MelodyWatson.com and somehow, my thoughts and feelings lead to the poem above...

Labels: blogging, emotion, family, life on life's terms, meanderings, poetry, writing

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Row, Row, Row Your Boat

The other day I went on an eight day, seven night canoe trip with three other men through a section of the Okefenokee Swamp. I had never been on a canoe trip beyond a paddle in the local lake, so I was excited about spending some time doing manly things with other manly men in a manly environment. The swamp is home to snakes, alligators, wild mammals and amazing bird and other wildlife.

I wasn't disappointed. Everything that this type of adventure offers hit us full force, face-on impacting out lives and saturating our thirst for manly excitement and bonding. Perhaps I will share more about that trip someday, but this post isn't about the actual trip, it is about the beginning – the beginning of all things, in a way.

The four of arrived at our launch point and soon had our gear packed in the two canoes full to the top leaving barely enough room for each of us to sit – one in front and one in the rear of each canoe. We had to take everything we needed for the next eight day – food, tent, water, coolers, etc. we had gotten to the launch point later than we had expected and had to talk the ranger into letting us launch late, knowing that we would be pushing the end of daylight before we arrived at our camping platform hours away in the middle of the swamp. Once he saw us safely in the canoes and ready to shove off, her got in his truck and left. We were off!

What awaited us was to be the adventure we all had anticipated for months now. Days of gliding through still dark water, observing wild life, and risking health and hygiene for the sake of doing it! We had miles to go and only days to accomplish it in – the adventure was upon us. Paddles in hand…

Then I discovered one small problem. Although I understood the concept of steering a canoe in open water, I didn't know how. As the lead canoe launched into the swamp, my partner for the week began providing momentum for our travel from the front seat of the craft, while I sat in the back with the duel task of paddling and guiding our boat by using my paddle as a rudder, as well. We zigged. We zagged - and quickly lagged behind.

Point – If you are going to paddle a boat to an adventure, learn to paddle.

The lesson is simple enough, but how often do we get it wrong? Life is a journey – vocations, relationships, self actualization and countless other adventures await us, and how often do we impatiently launch into one thing or another with out taking the time to allow ourselves the learning we need to be able to successfully navigate the trip.

I’m not suggesting we have to be an expert before we try anything new. I am suggesting that some adventures need a mix of experience, maturity and competency before we jump into them. I’ll leave the specific applications of this ‘point’ to your own thought processes. I’ll also state that the greatest lesson I've ever learned is that if I’m going to navigate this vessel of my ‘self’ through life, I needed to spend some time learning the art of doing just that.

In the swamp that day, I had three experienced men who helped me learn what I needed to know – enough to get the boat straight and roughly on course. They never let me forget it, but we did make our first platform just after dark.

Labels: blogging, gender stuff, life on life's terms, meanderings, spirituality, travel, vacation destinations

Monday, August 10, 2009

The Other Day...

The other day… [STOP]

The post I was preparing to write needs to wait for a brief moment while I explain the phrase above – “The other day.”

I grew up in South Carolina. Along with sand fleas, mosquitoes and inbreeding, the south is known for several colloquial phrases. Where I come from, we know what “the other day” means, and it means something very specific.

“The other day” refers to a period of time that can be from yesterday to several decades past. The meaning, when used by a true Southerner, is to say “When it happened is something I am not prepared to commit to right now, and in fact when isn’t the damn point I’m trying to make and so don’t get hung up on when, or who even, just listen to what I’m getting ready to say next and know that it did in fact happen and it is important that you listen to the story and not get distracted by the facts -now.”

So when I say “the other day” I was listening to Oprah – it isn’t to tell you which episode or year so you can go back and watch it, I’m telling you that what I think about what I saw on Oprah “the other day” is something you need to know.

When I tell you “the other day” I was talking to Aunt Margie – it doesn’t matter that Aunt Margie has been dead for ten years; I’m telling you that she knew something that you need to know right now because it may save you a heap of trouble later.

And, most certainly, when your mother says to you “the other day” I was cleaning your room – be sure that what follows next will not be a discussion about which day ‘exactly’ it was but rather something much more critical to your living future…

I hope that helps. So, the other day…

Labels: emotion, family, father's wisdom, life on life's terms, meanderings, writing

Monday, July 20, 2009

Miasma Episode I

NOTE: This is a creative writing piece and could be one of a series that creates a fantasy character to allow for observational prose...

My name is Miasma. Actually, Miasma isn't my real name and if I tried to tell you my real name your ears would not hear it nor would your mind grasp it, so for you and the world you see, I am Miasma.

I am a watcher of people and their things for in my watching I find some degree of comfort, some measure of essence that I would otherwise lose and soon I might fade beyond the reach of this world. I cannot touch it or you anymore, so I watch. My presence is veiled to you, no more than the wisp of a cloud or the last mist of a spring morning. I can only watch. I watch the beauty and the ugliness.

Today I watch her, this child with brilliant blue eyes, dancing with light. If you would see her you would most likely be so struck by the particular shade of azure blue brimming from her eyes that you might miss the truly brilliant light that is her eagerness of being as it radiates into the world around her. Yes, I see this radiance. Some might discount her shine as youthful and untainted enthusiasm, but I know better. I have seen this before and today as I watch her trace her fingers along the cracked mortar between the smooth wall stones, I know that this youngling is a rare and delicate version among your kind. She hums a simple tune, one that rises from her inner being and as her wordless song touches the air and all around her I feel the urge to bow, I and every form of life around her would sway upon her song if she only wished it so. She doesn't, for she doesn't know how, yet...

Labels: blogging, emotion, family, gender stuff, meanderings, prose, word play, writing

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Juggling?

First. I am NOT a juggler. Nope. Notta.

However, this show was amazing and I discovered an amazing sub-culture that has, well, made me paranoid that there are jugglers everywhere. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Labels: 2009, meanderings, travel

Monday, June 29, 2009

A Musing Space

The water, hot and welcomed, pounds my shoulders and cascades around my neck, stripping away the dirt and sweat. Anchoring my hands on the shower wall, I let the water work its magic. I close my eyes, exhale strongly, and release my mind. The water envelops me, my senses, my mind...

Are there sounds that are only heard by the deaf? Are there things unseen to those with sight? Might the angst-ridden beauty of artistic accomplishment reveal itself more clearly to those burdened of twisted mind and unbridled emotion?

My life has been one of growing peace and routine more than artistic angst or spiritual distress. For awhile now, I had grown accustomed to percolating emotions, those feelings that lurk, coiled and ready to strike, manifesting malformed action and self-destructive choices. I have found solace regularly in the creative word. The twist of a poetic phrase or the presence of a story unfolding beneath the key stokes often releases much. Now, it seems that I am driven less and less to release my serpents of spiritual distress. This is different. Not good. Not bad. Just different.

I know the truth. I know that there lies deep within me an eternal presence, my creative magical essence that demands to be known - my familiar, my dragon, The lines of poetry, the tales woven in prose, the occasional burst of fire breathed from comments, are all glimpses of a piece of her being: scales of translucent blue, a sapphire eye blinking in the dusk, the sound of a gentle, rumbling breath, a brush of a powerful tail. She is my eternal muse. I miss her, these days. I sense she misses me.

Yet, here in this steam cloud, beneath the relentless waterfall, while all sound is blasted away, I hear her breath, steady and smooth. Through closed eyes, I see again, the cave where she dwells. It is in this moment I know that I could extend my arm and touch her. I can't help but smile, wondering what journeys await.

We live.

Labels: blogging, emotion, hiking, meanderings, pets, prose, sacred moments, spirituality, writing

Monday, June 15, 2009

Not Even Strange

It should have been a strange experience, but it wasn’t.

The room was filled with chatting and laughter. An arrangement of peculiar instruments were placed at one end of the room – didgeridoos, drums, crystal bowls, bull-roars, various flutes from around the world, chimes and items I could not identify formed a semi circle around two men.

My wife had arranged the evening, as she is prone to do, with certainty of purpose. She knows me, and she knows the likelihood of me pursuing such an event on my own is slim. She also knows that the reality of my appreciating and benefiting from such an experience is almost certain. We had registered and made our way back to the main room amid gathering people, nervous laughter, meaningful hugs and an atmosphere of escalating curiosity.

The group of us, about 15 in all, found our places; lying on the floor supported by various mats, pillows and blankets. After a brief explanation, the sounds began. This was advertised as an evening of sound and healing. Amid sometimes gentle and sometimes piercing sounds, I rested motionless and felt my way through the evening. Images came and went. Ideas floating in, some staying a while, and then out. I was sometimes aware of the movement and noises of others. Moments found me very aware of where I was and what was going on. Moments found me adrift in the twilight of relief. Then, as simply as it began, it stopped.

I listened as others shared of their experiences, stories of traveling to other places, regressing to previous life moments, journeying inward to spiritual realms. I understood much of what was shared – conceptually, at least. I just listened.

For me, it wasn’t about going anywhere. It was more about what came to me, and even that, the coming to me, I can’t really describe. What I can tell you is that I have slept wonderfully ever since. Something rode in on the waves of crystal bowls, and in the swirls of twirling blades, and through the chanting of ancient flutes. Something came gently on the tunes of voices and the rhythm of drums. Something of great value came and drifted through the discontinuity of my thoughts, images and sensations. It should have been a strange experience, but it wasn’t. The healing was, well, normal.

Good night.

Labels: blogging, emotion, family, life on life's terms, meanderings, prose, songs, spirituality

Sunday, May 31, 2009

Long Shadows

The long shadows stretch out, carving a swath into the close of the day. This day is more than the end of one more day, one more 24 hour period fading into the dusk of life and lingering in darkness before easing into the next. This day is his last day, the end, the final fading of life into that moment when the last step has been taken and the final period is written on the page – and so now, as the shadows creep into threads of night so long that they reach from horizon to horizon, he simply moves on… completing the task of washing the dishes, and letting out the cat.

Would he do anything differently in these last hours if he knew? Would his mind bother worrying about the loss of his retirement plans, or spend any energy concerned about the uniqueness his most recent proposal at work – hoping by it to attract the attention of his boss who happens to be a very attractive young and single woman? If he knew that even now each breath was moving him closer to the measurable possibility of counting his last breaths, even knowing the number of beats left for his heart, would he bother with anything at all?

He finds his way to bed, turning out the lamp and shifting to his right side as he always does, nestling his head into his too soft pillow, and curling his legs up to feel more completely the cat now nestled next to his stomach. His mind wanders about, replaying the events of the day as slowly his thoughts become less his own and a more independent, creative array of images begin molding their dream shapes, and fantasies for him as he slowly gives way to sleep.

Sometime during that night his heart stops its rhythm. He ceases everything, resting eternally beneath the long shadows, the pall of his end.

Labels: blogging, emotion, life on life's terms, meanderings, prose, spirituality

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Memorial

Often spoken words lose meaning
Repetition, redundancy, familiarity
Turns the phrase
Into empty sentiment.

What shall we call these things
Courage, commitment, duty, belief
Pallor of soul
To sigh and ache?

Can we even speak of heroes anymore?

Labels: blogging, emotion, meanderings, poetry, spirituality

Monday, May 25, 2009

Walking the Blue Hole

Your now seldom trodden paths fall under new feet, withstanding each impact of soul and sole, bearing up upon unyielding and ancient rock the weight of another exploration, an adventuring spirit, another of the millions of creatures that you have felt wander across your very spine, and with thoughtless query your impatient question of 800,000 years rises again...

Will this be the one? Will this be only another impertinent and transient creature that errantly uses the earthy mystery of this space for gathering dirt and stone, or ripping foliage aside for consumption, or splattering in fury another's blood upon you hoping you will shroud its evil from detection? Or will this one impede human conquest and domination long enough to pause momentarily, stand still enough - long enough to allow your archaic message to creep from the core of this vain of our origination and stir as deeply within them as it resides within you, the tendril of impervious and undaunted myth that is your message?

NOTE: Written after walking the Blue Hole path in Bermuda.

Labels: meanderings, sacred moments, vacation destinations, word play

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Give Yourself 3 Minutes - NOW!

Labels: blog games, blogging, emotion, life on life's terms, meanderings, sacred moments, smile and move, spirituality

Friday, May 08, 2009

Pod Cast Me!

When I'm not blogging, writing, being poetic or quoting famous people, I earn a living as a sales professional. If you would like to have a glimpse into my work, click over to Sales Management 2.0 and have a listen.

Brad and Jerry (sounds like two cartoon characters, doesn't it?) are great hosts and gave me time to share about life, relationship skills and how to be a more effective communicator.

I had a GREAT time. Please join us here.

Labels: blogging, life on life's terms, meanderings, podcast, tweets

Saturday, May 02, 2009

Birthday Song

Today is my Birthday, so I'm singing this special birthday song.

"Thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis is your birthday song,

It isn't very long."

Bye.

Labels: blogging, emotion, family, life on life's terms, meanderings, poetry, songs, word play

Friday, April 17, 2009

Spring has sprung

The view from my front yard...

Labels: blogging, family, meanderings, photos

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Repost - Sacred Moment

I saw the face of God the other day.

I was in a stranger’s home, where my new work often takes me, and was taken by an unframed painting hanging in the foyer. After dealing with several matters of business, I could not help but ask.

Me: I hate to pry, but who did that painting?

Proud Mother: My daughter.

Me: It is lovely, very moving, actually.

Proud Mother: That one over there was the first painting she ever did. (She pointed toward the dining room)

I am a father. I have seen the ‘firsts’ of a lot of things. My daughter is a good artist, and her first attempts look just like that: efforts that show promise, but lack the presence of an educated and trained talent. This painting showed nothing, and I mean nothing, of being a first, except the first masterpiece. I then heard how this young artist had never as much as drawn a stick figure (beyond childhood), nor shown any interest in art until her senior year in high school. Her family had moved her to North Carolina from New York the summer before her senior year and she reacted as one might expect. To make matters worse, not only had she been ‘forced’ to leave her friends and classmates, because of the North Carolina educational requirements, she had to take two art classes, one a junior class and the other a sophomore introductory art class. After a brief introduction to the use of canvas and paint, she had responded to her first assignment with a painting, a painting that now held me captive. Her muse had been a photo taken of her cradling her cat. She had decided to paint the self portrait and replace the cat with an infant child.

I wish you could see the work as it is now permanently burned upon the canvas of my mind. I wish I could post a photo of it for you to see. I wish that my ability to write could come even within a universe of describing what I saw hanging on the wall in that home. I wish you could feel the chills running up your skin as I did. I wish that every human could see the wonder and awe of the creative moment that she managed to capture. It is pure beauty. I long to describe what I saw, but alas I cannot. I will simply honor the wonder and miracle of that moment when the efforts of a young woman captured for me and gifted me in that moment of time with a glimpse of the Divine.

I saw the face of God the other day.

Labels: blogging, emotion, meanderings, sacred moments, spirituality

Friday, March 13, 2009

A Cup of Character

Below are some excerpts from an essay I'm developing.

The coffee here is horrid. I forget this little fact between visits. It is weak in flavor and appearance. As I settle into my place among the identical sets of heavily varnished oak furniture, I notice this restaurant offers a similar transparency. Country curtains on every window and systematically placed cut-glass salt and pepper shakers proclaim homey character. Maps printed on faux aged parchment and brochures labeled by decade tell us this place is rooted in our own ancestry. Here our personal memories have been catalogued for us, our own character defined.

The character they would have us find here is one of home as if presented in the tidiness of a Norman Rockwell painting. Yes, this place has character written all over the walls, menus, nick-knacks, and the wardrobes of the waitresses. It is a script carefully written by some deliberate designer and published by a majority vote in a boardroom. Yet, if it reads character it reads too loudly…

… This place fails. It isn’t the character that fails. This restaurant doesn’t lack for location, or presentation. What is missing here is something less easily conjured up on design tables or decided upon in board rooms.

The ‘Stinky Cat Coffee Shop’ wasn’t pre-planned. It just happened. Over time, it grew. In its own lore the place was a house, a home. People lived here. They dreamed away nights, ate breakfast together, thought of and planned for days at work and activities at school. They went about practical tasks and created meaningful moments. There are records of this planning and living preserved here. Faint lines on the back of doors catalog the slow ascent of children. Scars on the cabinet doors mark the memory of child safety latches. Claw marks on a door frame are deep assurance that a cat was part of the family.

Time passed and the family left. The house passed from family to tenant to vacancy with each chapter adding its own story to the place. For a while the building sat empty, housing only the occasional vagrant that slipped in to sleep or drink himself into unconsciousness. One sometimes stood in the corner and peed himself when he could do no better. Those stains don’t really come out, no matter how many times you clean and polish. The stains fade and become part of the character of the wood, but they do not disappear.

People disappeared and smaller occupants arrived. Squirrels hoarded acorns, rats nested, insects bored into the wood and things too small and transient to leave much of a legacy for us to see all made their contributions. In the scratches on the doors, the discolorations of the wood, the layers of paint, partially missing wallpaper and yellowed tile they all left their marks. People, insects and rodents alike have all left something of themselves…

…This place speaks its story softly but intently brushing against every occupant, purring an old and worthy message…

Labels: blogging, coffee, emotion, meanderings, spirituality, travel, writing

Sunday, March 08, 2009

Coffee Stories Tweet

I want to know this - What is the best coffee experience you have ever had?

Labels: blog games, blogging, meanderings, tweets, twitter, word play

Sunday, February 08, 2009

Life Sharpening

I don’t care how good you are, life is formidable!

I am thinking today that living life on life’s terms is a lot like the impact of the knife blade on the wet stone. You explore the analogy for yourself, and if you like, share your thoughts in the comments below.

I’d love to read them.

Labels: blogging, emotion, meanderings

Tuesday, February 03, 2009

While In the Office

seeking a hike

pounding the sod

finding a beat

gathering a song

starting a dance

Labels: blogging, emotion, exercise, hiking, meanderings, poetry

Wednesday, January 07, 2009

Entanglement

By the last micro thread of the spider’s web
Hanging
In a delicate balancing between desire to be free
From the casket of this cocoon
And to be safe from the fall to the ground

How came I upon this entanglement
But by little things, single threads of erroneous
Actions
Quiet discontentment resting feather-light
Clinging unassumingly to the sleeve of my façade

Until

Movement through my own self
Became hindered and slowly, progressed to
Halting proportions lost in one immobile
Case
Suspended by the last filament of my attachment

To you

Labels: blogging, emotion, meanderings, poetry, spirituality, word play

Friday, January 02, 2009

New Post Requested

Dang it Dena! I would have been more than able to create a new post, but NO you had to demand one. Now, I am at a total loss… well, when in doubt, REPOST!

Announcing the return of my first post from the New Year in 2005! I quote…

"A friend told me this today.

"Women and cats will do as they please, and men and dogs should relax and get used to the idea."

I just thought I would share."

Labels: 2009, blogging, gender stuff, life on life's terms, meanderings, pets, spirituality, word play

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Not Unto Death

I’ve had a battle with a nasty head/chest cold the last couple of days. I’m getting better.

Such times are a reminder to me of my need to be flexible, to allow for change. Life changes, my life changes. I don’t count it as a bad thing that I get so enmeshed in the work of living each day that I lose touch with my own frailty. It is somewhat necessary to forget that any moment life can rip us from our seemingly normal path and demand something else of us. Such a continuous awareness – of my frailty – would be immobilizing.

But, when sickness or injury comes, it is interesting to witness the struggle I have to allow for them – life changes.

Today my chest burns, my eyes are puffy, my nose and throat are tender, and it is too much effort to think and plan for tomorrow – as much as tomorrow may need plans. Today my reason is tainted by surges of emotions that hack away at my serenity and taunt my self-worth. Physical and emotional sicknesses seem to be dear bedfellows, with me at least.

So, I’ll rest and limit my number of decisions. Sometimes doing nothing is the best choice. I’ll sip tea, read and sleep and let the world wait – for me.

As you were… -cough, cough-

Labels: common cold, emotion, life on life's terms, meanderings, spirituality

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Perhaps This World Needs

As I strive for self actuation
Demanding more of my mind, spirit and body each day
Determined to succeed, to claim yesterday’s distant horizon
As today’s dawn

It occurs to me that I might have it all wrong
What if these images of status and position
That haunt my mind each evening are self contrived
And the resistance that pushes me backward
Each hard fought day is prophetic

What if my truth is that
This world simply needs another bum?

Labels: emotion, life on life's terms, meanderings, poetry, spirituality, word play

Monday, September 29, 2008

On Words Episode #080929

There are certain words, that if you are going to use them, you should really know what they mean. Today’s example includes three words with related, but quantifiably different meanings. Read on, dear reader and just feel the brain matter expanding.

Our words are: Moron, Imbecile and Idiot. According to a very old and not necessarily contemporary dictionary of mine, these words reflect classifications of mental aptitude related to a person’s IQ.

Idiot = < 25 IQ
Imbecile = 25-50 IQ
Moron = 50-75 IQ

Therefore, while it may make sense to proclaim, “Don’t be an idiot, you moron!” Stating, “You’re a moron, you idiot,” would be a compliment – of sorts. Which begs the question, which is worse, a moronic idiot, or an imbecilic moron?

Aren’t you glad you stopped by?

Labels: meanderings, word play

Sunday, September 07, 2008

Congruence

I believe we all wander through life, at times or for a time, cloaked with various masks, skins of textured facades, living as much with our fabricated external selves as with our inner truth. Therein rests our deepest self, the pain, loss, ache of life’s journeys won and lost. Therein lies that being so often sought and revered as the true self, the real us – with its’ complete measure of joy and depth.

Yet, is either the outer or inner more real? Are we not both mask and soul?

The beauty and grace of the dance, without the well hidden strain and sweat of the all but stumbling artist would not exist, nor would the precarious effort have any value, but for the fabric of the art finding form.

It is a dance, of sorts, this thing we call life - isn't it?

Labels: meanderings, poetry, spirituality

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Nonsensical?

Why is it that we insist, and I do mean “we” for it is my plot as well, in making sense of life – our life? Making sense of it all is a feeble attempt to remove the inherent mystery of life. Life does not ‘make sense’ if we mean by such rhetoric that life can be fully understood and explained in the same manner one might give directions to a favorite restaurant.

Myth, mystery, paradigm are words more akin to describing life, one’s life, one’s journey. Yet, we persist in trying to explain and reason our way through this existence and hope that we can find enough solidity so we may linger for another moment in the vain and frail belief of a life that makes sense. When in fact, are we not confounded by our attempts at truth and fact?

We are left with nothing more than the necessity of surrender as we fall into the chasm that reason cannot grasp and find there not a plummet to the death, but rather a descent of rapturous delight engulfing the senses that plays ever so amusingly with our spirit and carries us aloft, not down, and sets us once again on the seemingly solid ground of tomorrow. There we can imagine that we are secure, safe, and reasonable – until life comes passing again and we are unable to understand, forced to believe in and then against reason, again.

Ours is a riotous ride of delight.

Labels: emotion, life on life's terms, meanderings, spirituality

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Truth In Advertising!

ExOfficio™ touts that there Give-N-Go briefs are the most comfortable and functional underwear that you can buy. I have seen their ad displayed at a local outdoor supply store for a couple of years and thought, “What the heck. I’ll give it a try.”

The ad slogan reads - 17 countries. 6 weeks. 2 pairs of underwear.

I had eight days in Bermuda and took two pairs of ExOfficio™ briefs. As a safe guard (a man has to be careful) I also packed additional underwear – just in case.

Result – 8 ½ days. 1 pair of underwear (and a couple of swim shorts).

It isn’t a gross as it sounds. Honest. I would have used two pairs, but a lot of my time was spent in bathing shorts, so there was plenty of time for the 1 pair to dry in-between wearing.

All I am saying is that the briefs lived up to their claim of comfort, durability, and ease of use. Simply follow the instructions on washing, care and wear and you are good to go, and go, and go, and go…

I have even switched to the ExOfficio™ briefs for all my hiking.

I dub them the “Energizer Bunny of Underwear.”

Go get you some here.

Labels: meanderings, travel

Saturday, August 09, 2008

Slower Vision

I spent 8 wonderful days in Bermuda last month, and many of those days were spent basking on pink sand beaches and snorkeling in aqua marine, clear waters. It is amazing what you can see. It is amazing what you can miss seeing.

Having been snorkeling a few times, I settled in over a small reef and relaxed, waiting for the marine life to give its show of color, movement and characters beneath me. Suddenly, the waters were disturbed by a family of four swimming steadily by, chatting loudly as their mask-clad faces bobbed in and out of the water, splashing forward as if they had some hurried agenda to accomplish. The fish below me darted away in reaction to the sound and movement of the churning water. The family passed and I heard one of them ask, “Do you see anything?”

As the water returned to its own rhythm, so did the fish. I watched their dance and the beauty of the ever-changing sea for some time. It is an unparalleled wonder to behold.

Sometimes we have to slow down, even stop and wait until our eyes focus on the life moving around us. No matter if it is an Atlantic sea view, the back yard, or the movement of our family, we have to be careful or there is much we can miss.

Labels: meanderings, spirituality

Thursday, July 05, 2007

Education Lost

I have forgotten far more than I remember. I guess that it is a common enough experience to forget the many details of one's education. Use it or loose it.

I have been active and present for four years of college and 4 years of graduate studies resulting in two degrees. I have read the works of the giants in many subjects and passed countless exams and produced numerous research papers. There was a time when I cold converse long and detailed in my field of study. I cannot today. I have forgottent the theories, arguements and verbage that I once mastered.

The best I can claim is to have been knowledgeable, to have once dwelt in the circles of mindful scholars.

Today I am very much aware of how much I do not know. Strangely, I do recall someone teaching me once that knowing that you don't know is the beginning of wisdom. So, dare I hold on to the hope that perhaps simply learning through life, even for a forgetful scholar, might lead one to a learning not based on facts and theories, but rather on self knowledge.

Yes, I can claim today to have walked a good distance with my Self. We are well versed in the 'is' of each other.

What is it that is recorded over one entrance to theTemple of Delphi?

"Know thyself"

Labels: meanderings

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

Quiting Time

the tank is empty. the gun barrel smoking from the last shot fired. there comes only an echo from the keg.

i think i'll quit...for a while.

Labels: meanderings

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Just A Place

For a moment, I'll be here and let a little light shine.

So it is.

For this moment

Labels: meanderings