Like Tubing the Approach to Niagra Sometimes

On an early Queen album (as in, 1973), there's a line with a modestly triumphant tune that goes "Funny how love is everywhere you're bound to be...", and it gets stuck in the reel in my mind every now and again, and tonight was one such evening.



Elephants. Our son is passionately fascinated with them, has been for possibly eternity. As I was saying goodnight this evening, I noticed he was crying, and when I asked him what was going on, he burst out in tears and pointed to a cartoon of, of all things, two presumably Neanderthals (literally) hunting a mammoth. It's a kids' book ostensibly, so the images were highly stylized, with googly-eyes on the mammoth, the hunters' no different. But tragically, deeply effected he was.



Truth is: I punted. I mentioned that it was just a cartoon, and when that went over like, well...lead...I went to the door and called for The Mom.



She's good, very kind and infinitely compassionate, and spoke with him very briefly but effectlively. Then she had the chore of explaining life to me. Ha! At any rate, I gathered up an elephant that she had given me for Christmas years ago and headed upstairs. It's beautiful: all legs, trunk, ears, tali and neck are articulated, and it is hand-hewn from a single block of wood, festooned with tapestries and jewels (in paint). It was given to me as a marionette, but upon gazing at it hours after receiving it, I cut all the twine from it to set it free. It actually completely altered the creature.



So anyway, I went upstairs and made the point that the elephant in my hands represented the Indian elephants that are regarded as dieties and exalted with passage and jewels. After describing how they live, I shared a short moment from personal experience with one of my greatest teachers. He made the point that life was vastly less complex if only we do the next right thing. I said, "How do I know what the next right thing is?" His reply was classic Chris-ism. He said, "Just do what's in front of you."






Like it's just that simple.

At any rate, I explained that what that means for us is that we have a choice at nearly every turn to decide: do we want to be ivory-hunters or do we want to view elephants in awe as gifts from God? We discussed that it's not always easy, that we all stumble every day, and that it's about progress, not perfection. Blah blah blah. But sheee-it, did it get me thinking.

Love when that happens.

I'm giving my notice at work on Monday. Marcy has been offered the greatest compliment in that they've not only extended her position, but are currently creating an even greater one for her. She has steadfastly pushed me to move on some other things, and now some are moving toward me as well. I'm fucking miserable at this job. I once again have been put in nearly impossible, no-win situations and shit on for even being there. Problem is (and I have a high threshlold for discomfort in this regard) I end up carrying this sack of shit home with me. The kids are typically in bed by the time I get home, but I wake up ready to chew through the wall, which isn't really that great either. The children have moved so far away from me anymore, and Marcy often just goes to bed to avoid a tirade. At the same time, here comes this glorious news ("news") that the unemployment rate is approaching double-digits, the market is set to fall, pandemonium in the streets and bedlam at the door.

But here's the thing: I've lately been realizing that A) my priority is to be a husband and father, first and foremost, B) I won't get another shot at this, i.e. the kids will never be young again, and C) what am I going to have to look back on when I'm 90? Pay stubs, or relationships with my family full of Grace and Love? And what of the fear? The fear is that we'll nose-dive and crash financially and end up living in her parents' basement or something, I guess. But of course, the current picture is nearly that bleak anyway. And add in how the question was posed to me last week by an esteemed teacher, "Sounds like the choice between Faith and fear.....and what would happen if you took 'The Leap' anyway?"

Indeed.

I'm taking the leap. I love my family way too much. I love my life way too much. I do not believe that God has intended for me (or anyone, really) to be bound by shackles of money, that imaginary, illusory commodity we've all agreed means something. My hands tremble still, to even utter the notion, but I want so much to have my family back, and when push comes to shove, I suppose yes, I am more willing to take The Leap than live in fear and misery.

Life is getting better by the moment, this I do believe. I do believe that Grace is available if only I'm willing to receive it. Happens all the time. All the time, and without fail.

I don't always know what to say or how to respond in this world, and certainly that applies to my own children. I never got the instruction manual. But my love for them is ferocious and empassioned, and I will wear it like a crown and mantle while protecting them like a lion. My wife is perhaps the greatest of blessings in my life. She is strong and wise, and soft and quiet. She guides me and helps me to strive for greater than what my limited human mind can grasp. My love for her is eternal and brighter than the sun.

I am a good father, and I am a good husband, and my legacy will not only be that, but that I lived in Freedom and Gratitude. I am but a servant, forever filled with humility and awe, and I ain't servin' money.

May we continue to know the Prescence of God in all we do.
Let's revere the elephants and show gratitude in our days!
Most of all, may we all tread the path of Light with Love in our hearts and minds.

Smoke and Mirrors sans Mirrors

So as I began to expound in reply to one of Zee's entries on Sunburstgem, I realized I had a lot wound up in this ball of yarn in my noggin.
Oh, the gloom and doom and dire forebodings of the market collapsing and giant corporations tanking and people running mad in the streets. All with the basketball sized pill that the Detroit Three execs rolled up on Washington to plead for money...in their own private jets. Paying taxes this year, anybody? Anybody?
The deal is this: what is the effect on me, lower-middle-class tax bracket guy? Well, at first I thought: not much. The price of fuel is falling which seems like a good thing (I try my very best not to entertain my most cynical thoughts as to that ridiculously volitile market and the reasons driving that farce). I'm not seeing too dramatic a reduction in sales at work, and a lot of folks are saying they're not really aware of any downward trends there, either. But a large factory recently closed in Hudson, just down the way, and that may be a sign. Hmm.
Here's what I've concluded, and in this order (I say that in truth as well as because it kinda makes me chuckle...I don't know why): regardless, and I mean 100% regardless of authentic, genuine experience of the world around us, the media is throwing this market-collapse shit at us like rabid chimps on Ex-Lax. No kidding. It is very nearly impossible to escape the storm of harrowing "news". So as the casual observer of my authentic world, I see a lot of smoke but can't even smell a fire. And so it is with consciousness, I believe: an energy has been generated by this tidal wave of media reporting and whether we choose to hear it/see it/read it/belive it, it's there, it's here, all around us and seeping into our very psychic pores as we merely exist contemporarially. Why this miasma? I'm not sure. Oh I have ideas, but then again you probably do too. Suffice it to say that someone (read: small groups of people) are benefitting heartily from chasing this population of buffalo off the cliff, and even more money is changing hands by the day. This, my friends, I believe.
It's really too bad that it has to be this way, too. But there again, if it is, then surely it must be meant to be so. That's what Faith would have us believe, and sometimes that's bitter and enormous and downright painful....but it's as near Truth for me as I'm able to give anymore. Marcy and the kids and I, animals too, are going to make it, our lives and our life together are amazing, every day, and I really honestly and with all my heart believe that we'll spend the rest of our earthly days with our hearts neatly nestled in this miraculous Truth. We've (collectively) been through the crucible and, sometimes, we think that we just may be there again and again, and that's becoming more and more okay with us.
Marcy and I have come to a very different place with each other. We laid in bed and discussed life the other night. How we ended up where we are, how we need to improve on our situation. How we're going to move through this to the next level, and how we're going to carry the family. Who are you? Remember when we got married? What a glorious time! We were so in love, and so carefree. I still love you madly and God knows I wouldn't want to do this with anybody else. One in billions to me and I'm so very grateful for you in my life.
Our life is fantastic, very much like a fantasy. We have each other, we have our beautiful babies, and we share our space with some pretty amazing sentient beings. Would I do it all over again? In a heartbeat, even on a bad day, and they've been plentiful. All that shit, all the pain and the heartache and the excrutiating pain of loss and lonliness, all so remarkably hot in order to forge this amazing life. Well done, God, well done! We wouldn't turn down a few good breaks, but we get it! Wonderful! Not orgasmically giddy or delusional with abject, laughing happines, but a quiet knowledge that as my understanding (Faith, I think) grows, just to that extent does my inner peace and warm, easy joy. What a wonderful gift. I am really, truly humbled to even consider it.

Oh yeah, that miasma? I'm guessing it'll always be there. But so will my Bella, coming home from school with pictures she's drawn of us as a family with her response to the question inside of "What are you thankful for?" being just the word God surrounded by all different colored hearts, fluttering around the word.
The media will tell me that the darkness has descended on the world market, and Casen will still bring home another Good Citizen award, I have no doubt.
My baby will wake up and awaken me with a big, awkward kiss and we'll play bonk until she's ready for a diaper change. My wife will love me for this soul that lives inside me, with all it's glory and pain, and will show me for all time that it is a Truth. My animal friends will remind me that I can make the biggest difference in the Universe today, right now, by choosing Love.
And God willing, that's exactly what I'll do.
Thank you for your time and consideration and all your wonderful, loving thoughts. It is all given back tenfold.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wtjs0L5Gxlc
The above link, if it works, is something I've found so inspirational as to pull me back from some depths as of late. May it be so with you!

Into the Mystic

I've almost gotten beyond random spells of sobbing with heartfelt joy. There are cynics among us, and some of the suspension of trust and myopic faith in any one politician is not misunderstood. Here's the deal with me and my deep sense of hope and happiness: (you may have suspected a rave at this juncture, I suppose....)

First, we now have voted to become a part and participant in the world in which we live. We have voted to become members of the global village, and I do believe that Barack Obama understands that and all the implications of his being elected to pursue that end. I believe this of him.

Hand in hand with this is that we are experiencing a variety of sensations as a direct and profound result of Obama being elected. We no longer need to live with the fear, however subconscious, that any dissent of the actions of this government is 'unpatriotic' and, of course, worse: punishable. We no longer need to feel the weight and chilling dampness of this shroud we've worn for eight years or more now. We've been freed from the seeming interminable gloom of the obvious lies and the callous disregard. We no longer need to feel embarrassed to be American. On the contrary, seems like most of us are feeling pretty freakin' good about being American right now.

Perhaps I'm overly optimistic, and perhaps a bit naive, but there's so much more at work here, so many things vastly bigger than this superficial stuff. There is something afoot amongst us, those of us who choose to be open to it. We're giddy. We're breathing. Sobbing randomly and getting excited chills. I am, and I don't think I'm alone.

The bottom line is that (as has been said more eloquently) Obama could do nothing and something is still vastly different. Are you with me? It's a sense that something has been freed, given way, and is among us. It's good. It's wonderful. Something very, very big has changed for the better. Think 'genie from a lamp'.

I am so grateful for Barack Obama, and I say so unabashedly. My family is grateful. I, personally, feel hopeful for the first time in a very long time. I hope you allow yourself the opportunity to drop at least a peice of your armor and let some in. Even if for a moment, think optimistically, dream, hope the best of hopes. Set all your best wishes for yourself, this country, and the whole beautiful world on rafts and set them afloat in this. Seriously. It's part of it, I'm sure. I'm sure of it.

He says, "Yes, we can", and personally, I believe him.

Yes we can.



This is just a random photo from
when we went to the mountains
a couple of weeks ago. That's all

Yes we did, and Yes We Can

"Life is beauty and sorrow"

I've lived my life thus far, at least for the past 30 years, with the largely disclosed knowledge that my mother did not love me. The repercussions have been, to put lightly, staggering and the implications as they pertain to who I was and who I have become were something of a malevolent, smoldering forge; this knowledge become creation via crucible.

And I whipped the proverbial horse of this bizarre turn on into the depths, wrestled the demons of the fray, and emerged battered and less than victorious but never fully vanquished. As of late, and since my mother's passing more than a year ago, I've struggled much more privately, due largely in part to needing to be more 'complete' for my family, et al. Now and again my mind would wander the empty streets of the burned out boroughs that were those times remembering. Remembering and not understanding. And at times I would rack with wails and heave in anger and frustration, "how could you do that to a child? What would possess a person to behave that way? Why me? What did I do?" The synapses fired and the water frothed and the frenzy was soon underway. It took days at times to recover.

And very recently something tragic and beautiful happened. Marcy has taken a ten-week, full-time job in order to help alleviate some of the crushing debt we carry, and to help with the times that we gather change from the cars and the house to buy a loaf of bread. Glorious times, and I'm very pleased to say that as far as we can tell, the children have no idea whatsoever. But I digress. So Marcy began this job last Monday. Her mother and father have agreed to help by watching the baby during the day and picking the older kids up from the school bus. Very gracious, and certainly no cake-walk...they're in their mid-70s. I have been going to work a bit later so Marcy can leave the house at 7 a.m. and I can take care of getting the kids to school and the baby taken care of and all that. Poop diapers at sunrise, oh yeah.

And about midway through the week I became so depressed, so very down, and I couldn't pinpoint why. Seemed nothing was bringing me back to the surface, not even the old tricks. I was really struggling with the vortex of this new reality swirling about me, consequences and motives not of my devise, that everything that was now taking place as the new norm was counter in every sense to what I hold dearest in my life. I am a father and a husband, first and foremost, and I can and have become a mad bear when impeded in either case. The new scenario: we're dirt fucking poor and deeply in debt; my job keeps me from my family all but two days a week and doesn't even cover our bills; my wife is now away from our 8 month old daughter from sun-up to sundown; my kids tell me that life is so much crappier since I took this job and that they miss just having dinner with me.........

and there I was, driving my baby to my parents-in-law's house, and the emotions had reached the boiling point and were threatening to blow the lid off. Reaching back into the carseat I felt my baby's little hand grasp my finger and give it a kiss, cooing something all the while. I began crying. I thought, "It shouldn't be like this. I don't want it to be this hard, I'm doing so much that this shouldn't be happening...I just don't get it..."

Then the queerest thing happened.

I remembered something.

I was quite young, 5 at best, and my mom and I were living in Kentucky sitll. We had moved from a tenement apartment with no front door (someone even stole our dog one day) to the backseat of my mom's blue Buick Skylark convertible. It had no rear window, and once it had dusted snow in on us as we slept; I squealed with delight...my mom cried.

So I was maybe 5, and my mom was wearing a pantsuit, her hair down (I used to cry when she put it up). I didn't fully understand what was happening. I was put down in a room full of other kids my age on a floor made up of tan and orange stick figure people. My mother chatted quickly and nervously with one of the older women there, in their green aprons. She bent down and gave me a kiss and began walking out the door. Walking out the door! Well, that's crazy! Why would my mom leave me here? Must be some mistake. Holy shit! There she goes past the window!

And suddenly I remembered with frightening vividity the agony. The pounding on the windows, screaming. The aides pulling me from the window as I kicked and screamed. My mother, her pace quickening to a near run, her hands to her mouth. She was crying. And I just know that she sat in her car and cried till she thought she would die. Her heart broken, that would be the longest day of her life. And all this with the knowledge that this was life now, this is how it was going to be.

I caught a glimmer of that anguish, and I've begun to know the weight that is The Change. And with this pain and frustration, anger and sadness, comes the blossom that is the very genesis of it all, the seed that is Love.

Without some pretty intense love, I wouldn't have such a strong emotional reaction every day; without this love, I may not really care what happened as long as I was taken care of. But that's not how it is. My love for that baby comes from a place so much deeper than I alone am capable of generating that I am certain it is a pulse from the Universe, or, as I prefer to phrase it, the Love I have for that baby is a reflection of the Love of God. Way bigger than me, of that I'm sure. And likely just as big as it was unavoidable for my mom.

I don't relish in discomfort, and I don't look forward to hard times and harder lessons, but by God I'm grateful for the lessons that come with them. And by Grace and diligence I hope I'm able to truly learn these lessons.

Brothers and sisters, we'll never understand God so we may as well give that one up. Let's have Faith that we're not impossible coincidences and think, feel and act Love in this life.

The Love is there, it's just a matter of being open to it.

I love you and I think you're wonderful. Keep up the good work.

Post Script Oblige': A thousand thanks to my brother Adam, without whom I couldn't share this. Not only did he send along a functioning CPU, he paid for the freaking shipping. How cool is that?

Thank you, Adam. Thank you.

Lactose Intolerance and the Weight of Touch

What a week. No worries, I'll barely scratch the surface here.

I will add that I keep dreaming about my old truck. It's been quite pleasant, really. I visited her a few weeks ago...still sexy. Too bad she's a drunk.

Anyway, I drove much bigger trucks in NYC for a few years a while back. It was tough, and I really wasn't the epitome of driver I think, given my interactions with the many I interacted with. Not to be construed as a perjorative judgement, mind you, just a different lifestyle with numerous other lifestyle choices, that's all. At any rate, I've been...well...bothered by one of the drivers at work, and perhaps this outlet is a letting go. Okay, I'm hoping this outlet is a letting go.

Here's a guy, mid-20s, hates life and thrives (and I mean Thrives...yes, capital T thrives) on misery. Bitches about everything. Everything, no hyperbole. I know full well, after having the opportunity to observe this character, that most of this, likely all of this, comes directly from his parents, probably imitating his father; if his father was the only role model for this male, it logically proceeds that he would be heavily imprinted as his father. And it's too bad folks have to live like that. I mean, I'm of the opinion that God has given us this opportunity to learn, and we ain't learning much by repeating, much like we won't get much out of "Gimme Shelter" off the original vinyl pressing if the record skips. skips. skips. The woman singing backup so deftly steals the song from any of those guys, and it only really comes through, filthy and grungy and nasty, on the vinyl. CDs and even cassettes were remastered to eiiminate the soul, er, I mean the background noise.

But I digress.

If the record skips, and the repetitive loop keeps playing and playing and playing, one would never have the opportunity to have their hair on their arms bristle upon hearing it. On vinyl. So it is with us, and with enjoying our gift from the Great Mother/Father, the Universal All, the Big Love. God gave us this life, here, now, as an exquisitely generous gift. I think it was Sogyal Rinpoche who recollected a brilliant teaching from the Knowing Buddha: to live as a human (to be incarnated as such) is an opportunity much like a turtle blindly swimming through the center of a life-ring cast in the middle of the ocean. I think of that one from time to time and it still resonates. And such is my belief on the creation of one's own life: I am here to live a life of my own making, based on my own book of experience, footnoted with gratitude to my teachers along the way.

Long way around the park, but now back to the driver.

Poor kid. He's never just left. Drove. Gotten in his car and driven out of state. Far away. Alone. You know the kid. Just almost zero life experience, and it's pitiful. Not in a sarcastic or deriding sense, in the sense of the ease with which I and others conjure pity for his plight. It's life-myopia, and it's a dead end, he just has no idea. And I bear pity in mind to a point, and that point was reached quickly just the other day when he pulled in with his six year old son (yes, he has a son). First of all, as a heavy smoker, he had just pulled a seven hour run with his young son in a cab of thick gray cigarette smoke. But to be honest, that wasn't even the saddest part. He later explained that since his son is lactose intolerant he and his "old lady" feel "a little guilty sometimes" when they go out for ice cream and he can't have any.

Am I alone in feeling put off? Really put off?

I'm currently human, so I ask for guidance, ask to become a bigger vessel. I'm trying.

I have an experiment for you kids at home to try. Go more than a week with no human touch whatsoever. At all, no brushing past, no handshake, nothing.

Then receive a hug. Hold hands with a dear loved one. The touch is as expansive as the universe and probably as powerful as well.

When I was an impatient greenhorn, thinking I'd had all the tutelege I needed, I built this wall. In a day. The guy with the excavator who was to come and back fill and grade the area behind the wall was going to be two days later than we had agreed on, leaving me...well, impatient. I finished building the final four feet on a seven foot height in remarkable time. It was beautiful. Imposing, straight as an arrow's flight. One of the blocks at about knee-level was a fraction of an inch out on one corner, so I tapped it with the back of my fist.

What you see above to the right is the result of impudence, impatience, wanton disregard for what I knew all along was haste, and yes....what you see is also the result of touch.

My baby daughter continues to be a profound teacher of extraordinary merit to me. She has lately been working with me on touch.

The lesson only began to break through the cloudy skies of my waking consciousness when I was, well, half asleep.

My most beautiful and exalted wife had just about had it a few nights ago. Our little angel has gotten into the interesting habit of waking every hour or so. All night. Vociferously. I wake most times and try in vain to help, but my wife does absolutely take the brunt of the waking and the labor of nursing and coddling and all else. I've begun to become a modicum more helpful in that I take the baby for early morning walks down the road, or scoop her over to me and coo and such to quiet her. My wife, my Iron Woman, has taken to sleeping on the sofa at some point during the night between wakeful jags.

That said, I just couldn't get that baby to relax and go to sleep the other night. Exasperated, I laid the down pillow over her from the chest down...and she stopped crying immediately. Interesting. From then on, I've been laying my arm across her while curling her little body into mine, and it most certainly soothes her, although it's as of yet far from infallible (the blanket still on the sofa, bags still under all adult eyes). At any rate, it got me thinking about touch, and the incredible power it holds. What Grace, that we wield such power for goodness, for love. The blessings of touch are divine, and I hope to not forget this lesson.

What a great baby.

Of course, I may be a little predisposed to a certain opinion.

Wow. There's a babble. Feels nice, though, and I certainly appreciate getting it out of me. Zee, assuming you'll feel this even if you don't read it, thank you for your wise words. The blog is like an old friend, always there and a great listener to boot.

Hope your vessel is growing exactly as quickly or as slowly as you're ready for at this point, brothers and sisters. I do firmly believe that God will never give us more than we're ready to handle, and that we can hope for and acheive great things for ourselves and those around us...if we just ask.

"Do not think so much.

Surrender. Believe.

Unprepared, move out to the world and testify.

The words will come. Serve.

From now on service is kingly.

There are no more kings."

-excerpted from a poem by Barry Hannah, inspired by the Good News of

Mark.

And verily I say, there are no more kings.

Service. Touch. Smile and laugh with.

What a wonderful gift, this life.

Thank God.

(Thank you, God!)

Still Rowing, With An Option to Drift

Such a fascinating array of choice in this life, wouldn't you agree? After getting other peoples' responsibilities very unceremoniously dumped on me again (and again and again) yesterday, I consulted (okay, unloaded) with my other half, my most trusted and intimate confidant and guide, and after much consideration and discussion recommended that I remain quiet. HA! Remain quiet?! Why I... Well, that just might work, I thought, and I totally see where you're going with this. Okay, cool.

So quietly I entered today, and finding the whole family awake and ready to begin the day at 7, we decided that it would be a good time to follow up on some unfinished business. Kids dropped off at park program, we headed to Social Services. We've been hoping for (and indeed counting on) assistance, at least for food or oil.

I don't know when the last time you hung out at your county Social Services was, but I can attest to the...the, um...flavor maybe? of the experience. It was exhausting, no kidding, to keep the protective armor manifested around us, Charlotte especially, although she seemed to be having a good ol' time as always regardless of atmosphere.

At any rate, seems like there were quite a few able-bodied younger folks of questionable moral fiber and intention there, and that was discouraging, but the judgement is not for my role, and I'll leave it there, in mind and blog.

When we were finally called in, the counselor reviewed our budget (bills, lease, check stubs, etc) and declared that we, (and I quote) "make way too much money". I was a little surprised (we were just barely over the limit), and Marcy's face actually fell. I queried as to what that actually meant, and she replied that in New York state, the law requires that a family of five not make over $2,110 per month in order to receive assistance. Chagrined, we remained silent, stammering, to which the counselor provided some information about rent being $620 per month, to which I exclaimed, "We'll take that apartment!" Case in point, we lived (a family of five, mind you) in a pretty shitty town (drugs and drunks on the sidewalk) in a falling-apart, spider-ridden, ceiling-leaking broken-toilet wall-cracked mold-emporium hole in the freaking wall for $720 per month...and everyone agreed it was a steal for that cost. Upon leaving, we were a little deflated to say the least.

My beautiful love of my life was actually quite shaken, and it crushed me, kinda winded me, to see her like that. I silently asked for help.

The meditation I had read this morning came quickly to mind. Allow me to share a snippet: "Our decision to give love, then, can be a calculated one - we already know the results. This shouldn't be our motive though. Wondering what we are getting out of giving to others can be a hindrance to our peace of mind because we're missing God's point. If we concentrate on the giving, the receiving will take care of itself. Today I will try to give unselfishly."

I wondered how for only a fraction of a second before the news came. An elderly member of our congregation (and a woman whom I'm a deacon for) was taken back to the hospital yesterday, only days after suffering a mild heart-attack.

My wife, I would like to say yet again, is so remarkably soulful and connected...she got it immediately. We were off to the hospital.

Such a wonderful time. We visited and laughed and Ruth (the woman in the hospital, for those of you playing along at home) held Charlotte's hand and they giggled together. Ruth spoke often of her love for children, and how she would've had many more of her own if they'd had the money to allow it. After a while a nurse came in ane mentioned that she was going to run some more tests, so we once again offered that we lived only about 10 minutes from her house if she needed anything, and that I would stop by again soon if she was still in the hospital.

As good as it felt (and it felt wonderful) to have visited, as though we were there for her, it got extra-wonderful when we decided to stop in and see if Joan and Pam, two nurses who helped immensely with the birth of Charlotte, we in in the maternity ward. As we were opening the door, I mentioned how incredible it would be to see Dr Hines, the man who I credit with not just delivering my Angel Charlotte into this world, but also without question the man that saved Marcy's life. (Didn't hear about the daring and wrenching life-threatening birhting? Still brings tears to my eyes and sometimes makes me shudder still.) Needless to say, he is nothing short of a hero in my book, and I basque like an adherent in his presence, and his presence is radiant and beautiful on its own.

At any rate, who was the first person we see upon entering? You got it, Dr Hines was at the table, and we both said simultaneously and ecstaticallly, "There he is!" Laughing, he came over, amazed at how Charlotte has...well, thrived. I have all the more respect for a man who can let all the guards down and give and receive enormous, warm hugs, and that we did. We spent a while together, yakkin' away and getting his encouragement to have another baby (we'll see about that one...), and left feeling like we were walking on air. What a wonderful day it had become!

I've written well beyond what I had intended for this evening, so I'll truncate the rest of the day by adding that I then helped wash and pack some greens at a friend's farm and laughed until I cried with his 5 year old son, visited some other friends on their farm, then worked like it was the end of days in the office until my incredible love came for me and made me go eat pizza with her. It made the workload and the late night in the warehouse vastly more bearable to say the least, and I may even have enjoyed myself a bit in the process.

I guess when I'm really on it, when I'm really attuned to higher intentions, which is really a long-way-around saying 'when I'm open to hear God' (feel God, intuit God, whatever...), it's like stepping somewhere else entirely on the perimeter of the circle. The situation is the same: we're hard-core, sad-ass broke, and the bills that have accumulated in the past months are still piling up; my job requires long hours for minimal pay and zero acknowledgement; I don't spend nearly enough time with my family and I'm not sure how we're going to make it even before the winter even sets in! No shit! But the perspective changes drastically when I'm open to being moved to another part of the circle. The light is different, the perspective has changed. My family is amazing; I have more in them than I ever thought this life had in store for me. The love my wife and I share is worth many lifetimes. I am clean and sober, and can say that I haven't taken a drink or an illicit drug (still rock the aspirin now and again) in more than 7 years. 7 fucking years! C'mon, man, that is some Grace workin' right there! I enjoy my path back to God and the results of my search are my rewards in themselves. Ya know, it boils down to simply (ha ha) being reminded of what's truth, of what's real, what's actually important in this life. Not that crazy shit-storm of fear and ego and society, that'll be there whenever we want to tune into it. Some pretty crappy shows on the television...doesn't mean I need to watch 'em. Think I'll listen to the radio, take a walk, play frisbee with the kids. I won't be able to do that in another seventy years and time has a habit of sneaking around the backside when we don't pay attention. Bills'll get paid eventually. The present is the time to dance with my beautiful wife in the kitchen, let the kids know what love is all about.

Today was a good day.

I Never Feel Like Chicken Tonight

In a world of odd images, this one gets some caliber of merit in my book. Look at this thing. Just odd.

And so it is, sisters and brothers, that sometimes there arises a strict intercession of credo, a jumping-off point, even when we may be inclined to cognitively feel as though we've traversed said chasm.

And so it is sometimes, too, that the event arises as a dust-dervish: silent and invisible, save for that which it pulls in from without. And indeed perhaps it is in these times of quiet and relative calm that decisions are to be peened into shape for use at a later time, for a later event.

Perhaps.

But that's just covering my ass.

Really the events that transpire at this point are very much like dust pulled up in the vortex of that dust-dervish. Maybe spray hurled from the perimeter of the eye of a cyclone. The sea is basically calm, the horizon obscured by thick fog and darkened skies.

Row row row your boat...

Lightening illuminates the troubled, pendulous clouds and the low, throaty growl of thunder washes over the vessel.

...Gently down the stream...

A furtive glance about the boat. Am I alone? Where am I and how did I get exactly here? Rocks and crags. Serpents and marauders. The mind wanders into dark crevasses, cold and eerily dank, where it knows it should not go.

Merrily merrily merrily merrily...

The night may soon close in, constricting and alien. At this late stage, who will come for me? How will someone find me? This voyage is not what I had envisioned, although to be fair, I hadn't envisioned anything at all. I was sold a ticket when I was quite naive, and now have no choice but to find my may. The sail is rent from top to bottom, the oars have been pitched in the earlier tumult, the rudder is splintered and worn. She creaks at the whisper of gale, and she's waterlogged and tired.

...Life is but a dream.

Life is but a dream.

Profoundly wise and virtuous teacher, as I regurgitated fears upon him one afternoon, asked me if I knew the song. "Yeah? How does it go?"

I sputterred, likely blushed, "Oh..."

But no. He pursued until I indeed sang it:

Row row row your boat,

Gently down the stream.

Merrily merrily merrily merrily!

Life is but a dream!

Smiling at me, he may have witnessed the corners of a veil being lifted.

I have some really uncomfortable decisions to make. I need to provide for my family. I've really got to learn the lessons right now.

I've deleted a billion words and will summarize with this: Things are tough, but God has never forsaken me, and I don't think God will now.

Mohammed reminded us that the sparrows never feared for not being provided for.

The disabled man at the Healing Pool at Bethesda told Jesus he couldn't get to the pool because no one would carry him. Jesus responed, "Take up your mat and walk."

Take up my mat indeed.

Row row row my boat, gently down the stream.......

And Brett called too!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=urt2cy7AqFs
Dreams are some shit, huh?

Off-gassing and cumpulsory physiological jettisoning of the daily flotsam or inter-dimensional passage through the veils of heavy carbon-based reality? That's one for Sagan and Steiner to posit and discuss; as for me, I make statements like, "Dreams are some shit, huh?"

The link above is an homage (if not something more direct) to one such dream. Brett felt really poorly about something, emotionally I mean, and he spent a bit of time trying to convince me that he was actually fine but I was so not buying it. Then, or perhaps even throughout, I don't recall, the song above played. Played predominantly, actually. One way the Universe (God, if you prefer) works (in my opinion, anyway) is that from one ort of information or experience an entirely different universe is created. Granted it's to a greater or lesser degree, but the fact remains, and this Carole King snippet is a prime example to illustrate.

Heavily wafting through my dreamscape is 'So Far Away' by Carole King. Upon waking, I can't recall for the life of me what the song was that I was hearing, but on the radio that morning in the office I hear a different Carole King song and think first, "That is so awesome!" because a) I haven't heard a Carole King song on the radio, let alone that station, in what may be years, and b) it's what I personally nowadays gratefully take as a sign of Synchronicity in the Universe. (If you don't that's your prerogative, but I beg you to indulge in it's magnificent reality some time: it's intoxicating)

The next thing that happens (after being not at all subtly reminded of the presence of God in my life and thereby lifted to a higher vibration) is I see Greg in the warehouse (nextdoor to the office) and feel inclined to engage him in conversation regarding this song I dreamt of but can't remember. He can't pull any out of the air from 'Tapestry', but fondly recalls the album. Who knows where his mind wanders and therefore his outlook and whole day changes! See where I'm going with this?! Very cool stuff.

So now Greg and I talk a lot about...that's right! '60s and'70s music! Nice. Plus this morning it was still on my mind so I start looking on YouTube for Carole King songs to jog my mind and lo and behold there it is, jumping out at me (last night's dream included bike riding with Alton Brown who decided to try his hand at improvisational comedy before a weary audience that included an apparently bored polar bear...but that's neither here nor there). After I listen to it a couple of times, I continue to explore some other favorite artists, including Alana Davis, who I haven't heard from in over a year. Wonderful! I'd forgotten how talented she is, and recalled that I hadn't listened to her cds in some time, so I pick a couple out of the rack and listen to them on the way to and from work. She's so good. Good music, I'm happy!

Oh, and Brett called and he's okay, and I felt like a yoke had been lifted from my shoulders. All good.

It goes on and on, as though our collective conscience is really just a big pool and our thoughts ripples...kinda cool. Won't even get into manifestation here, but let's not forget what they even mentioned in elementary school for cryin' out loud: "manifest destiny". Break it down and think about it...how'd that one get past the machine's radar? LOVE IT!

There's a ramble for ya, and by God thank you for being there....even if you aren't. I'm talking collective here.

I'll be preparing for a cleanse soon, so as to better attune to my purpose as a conduit of God's Love in action; I'm looking forward to it.

In the meantime, hope you enjoy the song/video. Carole and Sweet Baby James are wonderfully youthful and...new I guess is the word I'm searching for. Perhaps it will effect you and your day/evening. Who knows?

Those questions are second prize anyway. The winner is in the being.

Remember Extreme?

Come on, remember, "More than words"? Yeah, I know, most groan when forced to consider the song, but the portent holds yet. Above is a picture from the past week, when we all spent a few days in Pennsylvania at a family reunion. Charlotte was so happy to meet her distant cousin Claire that she, no kidding, gave her a big kiss. She was just ecstatic. The lessons I was granted are still unfolding, and this was most certainly a blessed event of the highest vibration...so much so that I still need time to consider and reflect and (soon, I hope) assimilate all that I was given. Such emotion, such wonder and depth...I hope to share with you soon! In the meantime, I thought the photo spoke some deeper innocence and truth that I could hardly wait to share, so there you have it.

And speaking of deeper innocence...HA! These guys were great fun. My wife gets such kick out of how I always sneak off with dogs wherever we go.

May you continue to feel the presence of an all-loving, ever-present Parent God as you wend through your days, and I hope to share some more time with you soon.

All I'm really saying

All I'm really saying, at the end of all the tumult and unrest, is that this baby, this angel descended on Earth, has shown me under no false pretenses nor uncertain terms what Love that eternally pulses from the heart of the Universe (could read 'God' if you like) is real and can absolutely sweep you away once you let go and get caught up in it. This baby has changed my life and my outlook (as well as priorities and anything else we can conjure to espouse) so completely that the world is just plain different now. Period.
An infinite Gratitude to Mother/Father God from this mortal for the gifts. My family, my teachers, my friends and acquaintences right down to that woman that rang me out at the market this evening. Thank you. Never, ever ending possibilities and alternatives, choices and perdicaments, thank you. It really hurts sometimes, and I get so deeply down and beaten and weary, but when I have the strength to call upon the All, I'm reminded to slow down, to recognize (literally 're-cognize') my surroundings, and at last to remember Gratitude for the lessons and the strength and wisdom that comes with it.
I've gotten back into reading the works of my friend Bill W. and Dr. Bob, and it really helps to soothe my worried mind. My wife and I were just discussing late last night that we were so screwed into a tight spot, that we had few options and we just didn't know what we were going to do. I reminded us that it's rarely very smooth for us and that we have to work so hard for everything we earn, every inch we climb, and that it'll mean so much more that way in the end anyway. My morning meditation that I shared regarded the reality of turning it over, not being so caught up in the drama of fear that we forget that God is doing for us what we can't do for ourselves, and from addiction to getting up in the morning (which can be a real challenge at the nadir) it rings true...at least for me.
So yes, we're in a spot that I don't ever want to feel again, and by the Grace of God and the Loving Wisdom that is forever bestowed unto us, we won't have to do this or feel this again. We need only to learn this one. No small chore, but we're fuckin' tough, both of us, and we've got each other 100%, and we pull the kids in tight and let Rosco off the leash and we're good to go. We'll do this, we will learn this lesson, and we will heal the wounds we've sustained in the getting here.
I would really love to share with you this parting prayer, as offered to us a couple of weeks ago:
Great God, in Christ you set us free,
Your life to live, Your joy to share.
Give us Your Spirit's liberty
To turn from guilt and dull despair,
And offer all that faith can do
While Love is making all things new.

It's at the Heart of the Universe, sometimes when the mind is quiet we can really feel it. My hope for you is to sense this Love, and may the awareness carry you into the world filled with spirit, with love and appreciation of everyone else you meet, and the faith turn knowledge that you are known and loved.
Amen.

Fun times at the mall of culture

Yep, had such an interesting time in NYC today. Ostensibly sales calls, the meetings were more like slightly odd films. I found myself listening as earnestly as I could muster to listen, but still wending through the veils of reality to find these actors still muttering on about some 'real-life' thing. It's as though we, as a society in this country (and some others, I'm certain), have become like one of those people that can't go on without some such drama in their life. I say screw that paradigm...that'll exhaust the spiritual adrenals or something....
No, I found myself thinking that my agreement with some things have changed, but in reality I think now I'm realizing the potential of higher aspiration agreements. Money is a prime example. Sing along, "money money money moooney....moooooney!" Now try this: "peanut butter jell-ay...jeeell-ay!" (For the record, that exercise served no greater purpose than to lighten you up a little bit....relax, why don't ya?) Money, we are all in relationship with it. It is a tool. I've heard it said that money merely affords us more choices, and I like that. I also saw a man today whose entire life seems to revolve around the stuff in some way, to the point that it's the only point of reference he could muster. Hmm. His labor minion, not looking him in the eye and shifting uneasily in their chairs as the meeting progressed. What an odd cast! What happened to the plot line?! I really enjoyed watching the film roll before me, and the levity I brought to the drama was warmly welcomed and appreciated. If only they knew! Cue Eroll Flynn! Their agreement with money was interesting as well, although they are a bit more coy when it comes to speaking about it (I ferreted through the gaggle of buyers after the meeting, checking for pulses).
Me? I want for my family and myself a cornucopia of choice, a veritable cascade of choices showering down over us, to swim in a deep pool of choice. Enter the money game in this world right now. Okay, I can play the money game, but here's the rub: I will not sacrifice my life for the gain of paper and coin. My agreement is that I have a family and a choice of lifestyle, and that to accommodate both I will need to earn money. Great! My new agreement also holds that I bear in mind what is real (to me) and what are distractions, illusions, mirages. I can work quite effectively within the system all the while recognizing that the wall are veils. I need to stay wary as to not become intoxicated again by imbibing that which is false around me. Most drama (when it comes to business, most certainly) is smoke and mirrors anyway, I just need to stay attuned to this as I enter the arena. I'll say this much, it makes shit so much lighter it's like a sack of grain lifted from my shoulders.
Is God cool or what? What a world! What graceful lessons!
I'll leave you with one of my personal favorites of the day. It came as I was meeting with the buyer for one of the Whole Foods down there. Time, no shit, no exaggeration whatsoever, was going so slowly, I felt as though I was entering the film for the Matrix or something, and the remarkable part of the time-bend is that it gives me time to really link up with what's going on inside me; it's as though instead of nanoseconds to respond in discussion, I've now a good 10 seconds or so to pull up what my True (key here, my True) feelings and thoughts are. It's amazing!
Anyway, so the buyer (we'll call him Eddie, because that's his name) and I were discussing how we're doing getting him fresh, local, organic produce this season, and he responded positively that the product is beautiful, fresh, the trucks are there on time regularly, it's all good.....except that silly little imp money is stealing some thunder! Ooo, that meddling monkey money! He said that he can often get local product cheaper through other distribution, citing that whereas our lettuce costs $32 a case, he's getting local lettuce from Massachussets growers for $16 a case. Time flowed like cold molasses, and I shook my head and peered mildly mournfully at the floor and replied, "Sure am glad I'm not a farmer in Massachussets..."
He got it. For a flash, and I mean truly, merely a flash, he got it and connected all the dots (maybe not all the dots, but a goodly number of dots). It was beautiful. He quickly retreated back through the veils, though, and with a numbing chuckle had left me to go back to mirage-land again, and that's okay. That's where he's comfortable, as are the vast majority of folks that have the luxury of not needing to concentrate merely on surviving the day. Heck, I go sometimes on purpose, although by God it's getting difficult to truly reach that destination anymore...and maybe that's evolution...maybe that's a good thing.
Hey, Love of God in my heart, I wish the very best for you today, e-ethers, and hope for you Peace in your heart and mind at the very core. All is God, as the back of my truck said, and I don't even pretend to try to understand much about that anymore, I just know it as a Truth, and in that comes knowledge that it's all lesson anyway. May it be so with you and yours and me and mine.

Here we are now, entertain us

Nevermind the previous blog: too long-winded and almost incoherently scattered. It was very early in the morning/late at night and I frankly had far too many thoughts swirling through the cosmos beneath my skull. On that note, I offer this as a more succinct and engaging thought on awakening.

The awakening begins as we look around us, right here where we live and play and shop. A case of lettuce from the west coast of the U.S. will cost on average about $48US all winter long, with slight fluctuations. As soon as the east coast growers begin producing, the price plummets to (this season) $12US. You already know all the politics and all the angles, so I'll spare any further explanation.

The house my family and I currently rent, a modest pre-fab cape on a few acres was most recently assessed at $289,000US. What does a million dollars even mean any more in the face of such assessments? Who (oh, we all know deep down the whos and the whys) decided on these prices/costs? What happened to the idea of currency? It's still an idea, it's just that we've all been buying into (pun intended) what the worth and parity prices are being set at. Interesting.

Population density is severly concentrated in urban centers, although they're no longer centers of commerce per se (as cities once were) so much as parasitic moneychangers siphoning goods from the surrounding rural districts to perpetuate it's own false devices. It's true, and if you look at it, you'll see it quite clearly.

I love my family. It has taken me this entire lifetime thus far to earn the family that I have now, and it is now that I realize it is all I have ever wanted, and there is not a quark of hyperbole in that statement. By the same token, my family lives me and has come to count on me, not just for financial support but for the vastly more important spiritual and emotional guidance and strength that I lend to our shared experience. What a blessing! God really does love me! So why must I spend the overwhelming majority of my waking time an hour away from them in order to make money? I don't, is the simple answer, and there are certainly alternative lifestyles available (and we consider some as they come up)...but let's keep the focus on the general principle here, and that is that the reliance and building of a societal lifestyle around a false principle (again, it's just an idea, a concept) such as money is a structure built on wind and ash...it's not real and it's not true to any higher aspiration whatsoever.

I long to return to my studies, I long for a time when my family and I can just be, and be together...sharing time and experience and all that life has. I long to share the abundance of my life with others in a meaningful way. All this is attainable, it's a matter of 'swimming upstream' as my wife once put it.

The more prolific and certainly more obvious power currently is darker than not, and quite soul-less, and it is a challenge to go against it. But we do. And we must...we must continue to channel the Light.

There's so much more I'd love to share, but verbosity lends itself to something akin to narcolepsy, so I'll retire here. Thank you, for by being here in whatever presence you are, you are so for a reason, and for that I'm grateful.

Go in peace knowing that we are known...and we are loved.

Why am I awake...and what's this 'reawakening'?

If I am to be enthusiastic (literally 'en theos' or 'in God') about God, that ineffable Infinity, and the direct relation to myself, I would hope that there would be Joy in it. Or more succinctly, as my wife put it this evening, I would hope that Peace would be involved.
That being said, I'll take you back to a few days ago. I've been worked to the raw bone for weeks now with no end in sight at my new 'steady, this will save you from debt' job; bills continue to stack up, largely due to the increased cost of the new house we're renting; the baby still wakes every few hours at night; I could go on, but you see the colors in the painting. So I drove the 45 minutes to work, all the while feeling this queer sensation that wasn't quite new, yet wasn't totally lucid. I sat at my desk and turned on the computer. The phone was not ringing, everyone was at their desks, diligently toiling away. My neck was kinda warm, and my abdominal muscles were tightened to taut. I couldn't resist anymore, and announced loudly to everyone present that "it's all fake! The whole thing is bullshit. It's all fake nothingness built on an invisible foundation that's invisible because it's not there!"
Stammering is a funny word, isn't it?
Only Joe, the head honcho got involved, and began a discussion based on the teachings of his primary teacher, and whole heartedly agreed, adding that our role was to transcend the falsehood and limitations of this earthly realm. I concurred, adding that we still had to involve ourselves in this realm, and....wait...this part of the conversation is a tangent...we'll hit that another time.
What's false? Haven't you been sensing the veils being lifted, these diaphonous scales that have obscured the Light for so long? Look around you....sense around you. It's a plastic (read: man-made, artificial, inconsequential simulacrum) world out there. What do most people talk about? How are we living? For me it all starts with the big lesson from Ishmael, that the split at the Fertile Crescent was the first big slip on the banana peel to today. The move to an agrarian society fractures the picture into so many different complications to start. Now you have people settling and working land, multiplying and depleting the surrounding area of all kinds of resources, denuding the forest and driving away the game. Population booms, furthering the whole process. Jump ahead, and you have the (just maybe insane) Industrial Revolution which now not only takes the fathers/husbands from the family life, but also creates metropolises. Now we have enormous, totally engorged urban concentrations such that no matter how much we funnel into them, they always need more. Now people in these cities are so far departed from the earth (true mother) that there's an entirely new cultural paradigm in play. Look at a television. My God! Where do these people come from? How did they get like this? Guess what?...these television people might just be the present norm! Even the most benign of programs, specifically "How did that get on my plate?" (a show presumably walking the viewer through farms and processing plants) is rife with such propaganda and misinformation that it sickens. Literally. Then the children are subtly endoctrinated. Radio. Newpapers. Magazines, internet, everybody is playing the game.
Now, my primary teacher, my go-to guy JC, he was the ultimate rebel. He turned everything upside down. Not just the money-changers in the temple, my friend, no no no...as was pointed out to me so exquisitely, Jesus turned all the contemporary dogma of the day on its head. A rebel, baby, in the truest sense. Now JC tells me, if I am to understand him clearly, that God, the All, the Great Mother/Father of the whole shebang, is all about Love. The prodigal son, each of us, running to those open arms. So what does that mean for me? Tells me that I'm loved beyond my most far-reaching dreams, and tells me that if I am like that son, then I'm like a child. As my dearest Chris pointed out so long ago, if my baby is learning to walk and falls down and begins to cry, what do I do? I get over there in a hurry, buddy, and I pick that baby up! I don't ask questions, I don't say, "why can't you walk? When are you gonna get it? Can't you learn any faster?" How disturbingly absurd a notion, right? So if JC tells me that I'm like that child (and we all are, brothers and sisters!), is Mom/Dad in the Grand sense gonna let me fall? Am I going to be judged? More to the point for this discussion, what do I want for my baby? Personally, I want nothing but the best this world has to offer, and I will and do do anything I can to make sure she knows it (and I don't refer to the world of the material here...stay with me...). What does God want for me, his/her baby? Well, JC is telling us pretty specifically. So what's all the best for me? For me personally, it is having my family. My wife and I long for nothing more than to be together, to have our children around us, to immerse ourselves in the sharing and experience of each other. The modern world really doesn't get down with that. Kinda prohibits that, except for short, unpleasant spurts. Well fuck that. Jesus got pretty rattled by what he saw, and I'm becoming rattled by what I see.
We're slowing down. We're preparing our spirits to be open to learn what it is we need to learn while we're here, and we can barely manage a modicum of that if we swim with the rest of society in that stream. We went without television for years and the kids never missed it; now it has become a magnetic beast that draws the attention of anyone near. It is getting unplugged and covered tomorrow. We have not read to the children in months, and we all miss it. We will begin a new book this weekend. We have not been on the river in the canoe or in the mountains all year. These are now priorities. I will no longer see my primary purpose as making money to support a lifestyle. I will no longer see the merit in working 70 hours a week to serve no greater a good than any other ersatz endeavor. I understand that my family, my wife and our children, lose far more that they gain by having me not at home as often as I had been.
All challenging prospects in the shadow of this culture, but we're committed anew. I can hardly wait to watch it unfold and to sense our coming together. It's our togetherness that is real to me now, and I guess that's what that oddly familiar feeling was. There's more crap and veils and distractions out there than stars in the universe, and they're all cunning and alluring in their own way, I suppose. But I'll be working on humming out a different vibration, as will my family. Join in if it appeals to you.
In the meantime, here's an impromptu, 2 a.m. blessing for you and for all of us:
Father/Mother God, we struggle and we churn in the frothing waters that are the world we live in. Your Love and our faith in that ever-present Love are all that keep us going sometimes, our island and our beacon. Dearest God, Greatest Love, please help to guide us in the way that is best for us and best for everyone, please keep us close to you as we struggle to change in the face of ever-growing fear and complacency. Let our deeds in this world reflect our gratitude for this life and your Love for us, and our need and Love for each other.
Amen.

Been down hard

This was my river. Those were my mountains. There comes a time, I guess, where a mosaic begins to form, when peices of something just beyond a clear vision coalesce, and we're left with a decision. I make my decisions anymore based on the principle of a simple two-point criterion paradigm: does it benefit my family, and does it fit my aspiration of my growth as a spirit. Complex questions for a simple quotient, and the myriad outcomes are staggering in their entropic array of ramifications. That said, my mosaic began to form and I leapt with all the vigor and motivation I posess. The house. The job. The car. The funny thing about making bold decisions is that sometimes, the shit you don't typically hear about happens.
The bottom line is that I made sound decisions with prudence and research and now teeter on the razor's edge of losing so much more than I can gain. I'm horrifically disillusioned, remarkably sad and haven't felt so alone and hung out to dry in many, many years. I'm not sleeping behind the dumpster anymore, but I certainly feel like I've been run over and have blown to the weeds on the side of the road of life lately.
It's fucking hard to get the momentum back to even being productive, and when there are sick people refusing healing just adding to your load daily, it's so much the more difficult. The road has overgrown with weeds. I've been fighting other creatures to the sides of the path and have lost my way. I'm trying so hard to find even the footpath at this point, but it's fucking hard, and I wanted someone to know. So thank you, inane blog, and thanks to Zee, wherever you are, for forecasting the utilitarian faculties of this strange yet somehow effective mode of release.
I'm holding on to the notion that if I can at very least keep Love in my heart, my mind on God, and respond from the place they both reside, I'll be okay. The better I am, the better my family is, and that's what's important in the bigger picture.
Here's to bigger pictures and better times ahead.
Amen.

The time has come

For all good things, even the mundane and the mediocre, must come to an end, and thus I proffer my final installment to what has been, from some points of view, a dismal failure. I'm relatively certain that no more than 4 humans have visited this blog, and who could blame the rest for not? So from the standpoint of sharing ideas and beginning discussions, this experiment has been as successful as the Hindenburgh. That said, this blog had given me the opportunity to release, which at times was quite therepeutic, even cathartic, and for that I am grateful. Now, provided the premise that no one is reading this anyway, why would I bother writing anything at all? Well, I thought that as my valediction, I could at very least allow this little nano-route to basque in the glow of my gratitude to it, as it exists in this time and space. So here it is: to you, infinitetrickpony, with many thanks.
See ya.

The Hardest Thing

The hardest thing, in these troubled times, is to keep the faith. And by faith I really mean Faith.

Yep, another one of those rants.

Top New York judge clamoring of dire results and top-end revolution if state judges don't get long-overdue raises. Current salary: $150,000 per annum +, no shit.

State hopes to keep all 'correctional facilities' open for business, albeit admittedly at taxpayers' expense, and business is good: 1 in 100 Americans will have done time in one of 'em.

Federal government abets the bail out/takeover of Bear Stearns, and after a backlash, raises the compensatory pay on what was a $60 stock note last month from the original bargaining of $2 per share to around $10 per share. We pay for their wanton carelessness and misguided, blind risk assessment myopia. Oh, and don't think that they're the first...or the last, for that matter.

My wife gets a 'green' update email describing how the television waves are going to HD and the ol' rabbit ears will no longer pick up the frequency...at all. The email discloses how to best and most quickly and responsibly pick up a converter box. Here's a crazy idea: put a cover on the fucking box and put some plants on top of it. When you get desparate, watch a good film or read a book. Elaine Pagels has some groundbreaking material on the Nag Hammadi texts that people should at least be aware of.

I could (and likely so could you) add to this list of perils and woes ad infinitum. Every day. Every day we could compound our misery at the travails of the modern world/culture/society. Great! I say great! That is coffee you smell, so wake up! Wake up to something for Gods' sake! Maybe most don't give a rat's turd about that. But get really pissed or completely and utterly dejected by current events? Why not!? Feels better to feel badly, doesn't it? And shit, since most of us are already pulsing out and carrying that energy anyway, it's so much easier to go with the flow! Yeah! Easy, going with the flow.

Perhaps a step along the way is to wake up a little to the world around us and get indignant, downright and justifiably angry. Yeah, anger, that's the stuff of change. Get angry and argumentative. Yeah. And then try not to carry that bag around with you. Good luck.

So what to do, what to do, with a sigh and shoulders slumped.

Here's what my number one Teacher tells me, and under no vague or uncertain terms whatsoever: if I am to have any peace, any measure of serenity at all, I first have to give up the big ME. Then I need to make sure my House is clean. And I'd better be really sure that the log is taken from my eye before I can go looking to take any splinters out of anyone else's.

Why even bother? My spiritual belief is such that this heavy body is a vehicle on a journey, and the purpose of this journey is to a) take what experiences I have, wrest them into a place of Blessed Peace, recognize them as Grace, and share that Grace with others, b) live my own ministry of Blessed Peace and Compassion by being awake, to the best of my ability, to the needs and condition of those around me, c) give all the Blessings I have received from a Kind, Loving, and Just God back to this world, and d) love my God and my family with all my heart and soul and spirit and never, under any circumstances, place anything before Them.

A most amazing thing occurs when I can maintain that focus and that vibration, and it has only recently come full circle in my understanding of a teaching of my very beloved Chris. In frustration, years and years ago, I asked, furiously, "Do you just know all the fucking answers at some point?!" He serenely and genuinely replied, "No, you just have fewer questions."

And it has been my experience.

I could easily and readily fall back to outrage and/or despair, the dalliances of stasis, and sometimes I do. But the reward of recognizing the Truth that Mahatma Mohandes Gandhi extolled ("Be the change you wish to see in the world") is better, if only more challenging. I invite you to try it. Take that personal inventory and jettison that unwanted, unreliable, and just plain antiquated shit. You'll be so much lighter, and your Vessel will have more space to fill with all things Light. Light, like making apologies you thought were dead and gone. Admit to foibles, mistakes, misdeeds, and be willing to receive the Good News that you're part of the Human Family, and we all screw it up sometimes! Allow yourself the hug that shatters the barriers, the handshake that softens your heart, and the possibility that everything is exactly as it is supposed to be.

God loves you, and will never even for a moment forsake you.

Imagine we collectively tried to exact that ideal of God here, on Earth. With each other.

Imagine that.

Go on...imagine that.......