I recently took a bit of vacation in Charleston, SC. For some reason, I was taken by all of the doors, gates and portals into various nooks, yards and gardens. Here is a taste of my walk around Charleston. Enter Charleston...
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Today ended with the sun setting undramatically below the western horizon, covered by dense dark clouds hiding all but a momentary brush of the palest rose. In my years I have seen more beautiful sunsets. As soon as this nonevent concluded, I poised for a life time first.Turning 180 degrees, toward the eastern sky, I stood watching, waiting.
The pier at Garden City, SC has been a haunt of mine for many years. I grew up a few miles from this spot and more recently I visit here when traveling 'home' to see my parents. I've passed many mornings sipping coffee and watching the day begin here, as those gathering to fish and sun begin their day. Tonight the wind is brisk and the crowd thin on Garden City Pier. Those of us who have come to brave a cool evening have done so unseasonably early - normally waiting for the warmer nights of late spring and summer for an evening walk upon the pier. But tonight all the news is a buzz, and even NASA is talking about the Super Moon, This night marks a once every 18 years event when the moon's orbit passes closest tot he earth and is in full reveal.
We stood and faced the east as she appeared, at first a transparent sphere of faint hues, resting perfectly upon the farthest horizon of the sea. As if creeping upward the moon began to grow brighter and in minutes that passed like sleepy thoughts, soon beamed full force and brilliance, casting a road of light along the sea - like an orange jelled spot light upon a stage. And with that, I added another first to my life.
Tonight I watched the moon rise for the first time.
If you need me this week, I'll be here: The Venetian.
I have the tough job of delivering a presentation at the ASPDOTNETSTOREFRONT Annual Conference this week. Topic Title: Social Media Sells and HOW!? - Leveraging the Uniqueness of Social Media for E-Commerce.
However, I will be voting for Scott all week and you should too!
I have the tough job of delivering a presentation at the ASPDOTNETSTOREFRONT Annual Conference this week. Topic Title: Social Media Sells and HOW!? - Leveraging the Uniqueness of Social Media for E-Commerce.
However, I will be voting for Scott all week and you should too!
The Pelican
A wonderful bird is the pelican,
His mouth can hold more than his belly can,
He can hold in his beak,
Enough food for a week!
I'm damned if I know how the hell he can!
-Dixon Lanier Merritt, a Southern newspaper editor and President of the American Press Humorists Association, penned this famous limerick in 1910. It is carved in stone and displayed prominently at Brook Green gardens in SC.
Watching several Pelicans feed in the tributaries of Murrells Inlet, SC, I was taken by how often they fail to catch fish. It is fairly easy to mark a successful dive, as the stately bird will raise its beak skyward to send the fish wiggling down its gullet. I began keeping score. I counted a total of twenty five dives between four birds and could only verify a catch seven times. With a slightly better than 25% success rate, these gobbling fowl still are known as great fishers.
I guess nature confirms the old saying, “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.”
1. Hunger for something will keep you trying.
2. The pain of failure is quickly forgotten once the benefits of success arrive.
3. Never give up.
A wonderful bird is the pelican,
His mouth can hold more than his belly can,
He can hold in his beak,
Enough food for a week!
I'm damned if I know how the hell he can!
-Dixon Lanier Merritt, a Southern newspaper editor and President of the American Press Humorists Association, penned this famous limerick in 1910. It is carved in stone and displayed prominently at Brook Green gardens in SC.
Watching several Pelicans feed in the tributaries of Murrells Inlet, SC, I was taken by how often they fail to catch fish. It is fairly easy to mark a successful dive, as the stately bird will raise its beak skyward to send the fish wiggling down its gullet. I began keeping score. I counted a total of twenty five dives between four birds and could only verify a catch seven times. With a slightly better than 25% success rate, these gobbling fowl still are known as great fishers.
I guess nature confirms the old saying, “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.”
1. Hunger for something will keep you trying.
2. The pain of failure is quickly forgotten once the benefits of success arrive.
3. Never give up.
“My prayer is not the whimpering of a beggar nor a confession of love. Nor is it the trivial reckoning of a small tradesman: Give me and I shall give you.
My prayer is the report of a soldier to his general: This is what I did today, this is how I fought to save the entire battle in my own sector, these are the obstacles I found, this is how I plan to fight tomorrow… ‘Leader!’ I cry. He turns his face towards me, and I shudder to confront his anguish.
Our love for each other is rough and ready, we sit at the same table, we drink the same wine in this low tavern of life.”
--“The Saviors of God: Spiritual Exercises” by Nikos Kazantzakis
I am truly a fan of Tolken’s ‘The Lord of The Rings” trilogy. I remember spending hours upon hours tucked quietly in my college dorm room, devouring words upon words, page after page as the fantastic saga unfolded and I journeyed with the heroes of Middle Earth in their quests for victory. In the films of the past two years, we have seen the cinematic adaptation of this tale, and I find myself equally enthralled again with Tolken’s message.
Be it the battles of Elves and Orcs, the magical sparring of light wielding Wizards, or the inner struggle of the spirits of Hobbits and a solitary Golum, the quest and it’s urgency is the same: Avoid the malformed power of the ring until it can be destroyed, at all costs. The heroes know the importance of that last phrase, ‘at all costs.’ Each is willing to, and some in turn do, give their very life for this cause. It is a wonderful drama of the high cost of noble victory.
It is this urgency that I hear in the words of Nikos Kazantzakis written above. If indeed, as I believe is the case, we humans are in need of help beyond ourselves in order to fulfill the beauty of this human drama, and if we are destined to suffer and fail along the way without this help, then there is an equal sense of urgency about our quest as is that of the soldier and the heroes of Tolken’s tale. All the more, if the quest for this assistance is a path that is known by some and open to others, and yet, is never made clear, how can the battle be won?
How tempting it is to sneak away into the safety of Bilbo Baggins’ shire (for ‘Adventures make one late for dinner”) or to hide in the security of the establishment office, for there we feel safe. Might we be missing the more important call for action?
I do not claim to know THE way that anyone should live, but what I do know is that I am committed to the journey toward The Divine, that power that aids and guides me. Do I travel in too scarce a number today? Should I not pause by the road, and share a bit of the tale that has brought me thus far? Can I not beckon others onward to their journey as well? I am made to ask of myself today, “What report can I give to God, today?”
Last evening I took advantage of a rare opportunity to enjoy one of the best story tellers of our generation, Garrison Keillor. The master of A Prairie Home Companion and troubadour of Lake Woebegone, Garrison Keillor knows how to weave a tale.
The Steven's Center was a delightful venue for the event. The stage front was set with a simple table, stool and microphone stand. Denise Franklin of our local public radio station, WFDD, offered a simple and respectful introduction of Mr. Keillor that set the stage complete with understated anticipation.
What followed was a well measured unleashing of humor, poignancy and inspiration as the baritone voice of Garrison sung and spoke story into our hearts. His humor was masterfully crafted right down to the black suit and white shirt that playfully gave way to a red tie, socks and sneakers: classic Keillor - refined and established tradition with a splattering of irreverence.
I had two take a ways this night: 1. Garrison's description of marriage as "A life time sentence to a relationship with your best informed critic." You have to love this. My wife and I looked at each other with instant agreement and bursting laughter. 2. The art of story is a dying art and if we lose this wonderful form of communication, if the digital snippets of media that bounce in and out of our awareness each day manage to capture so much of our attention that we no longer have the time or craving for the well turned phrase and a rambling illustration...then life will be diminished beyond reclamation.
If you have not had the pleasure of basking in the mastery of story as it is delivered - no, performed - by Garrison Keillor then reach out into this digital, instant gratification world and GET YOU SOME well paced, long rambling, heart stroking, laughter generating, life adoring STORY.
Feel Safe
i just want to feel
safe
not from crime
or hate
i just want to feel
safe
not from war
or alarm
i just want to feel
safe
not from winter
or disease
i just want to feel
safe
from me, with you.
If a picture is worth a thousand words, then this statue certainly speaks for itself. The title is "Man Carving His Destiny." No comment beyond that is needed.
Using a writers prompt, I penned these words.
"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, and wisps of silver form. I leaned over the railing, dangerously far.
They circled below me, entwining among themselves. There were three of them, two large 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 for 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. I 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 lifted 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 fully present in unadulterated bliss.
I fell. Somehow my foothold failed and although I grabbed for 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. I 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 lifted 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 fully present in unadulterated bliss.
Then, they bid me farewell and I felt a tug 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.
Image available here
