Happy Birthday Dad.
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-
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-
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?
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?
As a member of Rotary, I am privileged to hear a variety of people speak on any number of topics. From revolutionaries to politicians, I hear the stories, missions, beliefs and art of people who are seeking to impact the world around them with the gifts and values they hold dear.
Today, we had a musical guest, Laurelyn Dossett of “Polecat Creek.” Laurelyn Dosset has a delightful manner and shares willingly of her passion for music, life’s stories and nuances, and her artistic prowess.
Learn more about her music with Polecat Creek here and her musical theater endeavors at her site, here. What fun.
Today, we had a musical guest, Laurelyn Dossett of “Polecat Creek.” Laurelyn Dosset has a delightful manner and shares willingly of her passion for music, life’s stories and nuances, and her artistic prowess.
Learn more about her music with Polecat Creek here and her musical theater endeavors at her site, here. What fun.
There are times when I speak as one with authority out of hope that my words are true. Words about a loved one’s success and well being spring forth from my lips in the midst of much evidence to the contrary. I can hope. Even when everything around be screams otherwise. I can hope and forgive me if I hope loudly.
I believe there is a Divine power working against the odds and since I am powerless over this one, whom I adore with every ounce of my being, I am proclaiming that which my heart cannot feel.
Be victorious my child!
I believe there is a Divine power working against the odds and since I am powerless over this one, whom I adore with every ounce of my being, I am proclaiming that which my heart cannot feel.
Be victorious my child!
The last cicada sings
Into the crisp fall air
A final call of
Fall’s end, winter’s era
Leaves cling
To branches high
Not one wants
To release and die
A father dreams
Of his son’s flight
But silence returns
From this season’s night
[Chorus]
Seasons change
Seasons go
Season remain
Ever so slow
Summer leaves
To find its fall
The stillness breaks
Upon us all
The last cicada sings
The final tear falls
We are cold
We are so small
A baby cries
Her first breath of life
Mother’s arms are gone
An women will live in strife
[Chorus]
Sometimes we must burrow
Deep into the earth
Waiting there, searching
For the matter of our birth
Remembering when we can
That as this begins
We can return as
The last cicada sings
[Chorus]
The last cicada sings
Into the crisp fall air
A final call of
Fall’s end, winter’s era
Leaves cling
To branches high
Not one wants
To release and die
NOTE: in the depths of a hike in SC, i heard a lone cicada. while only weeks before i had heard the deafening noise of thier community screaming, only one remained. the words above come from that last cicada's song.
Into the crisp fall air
A final call of
Fall’s end, winter’s era
Leaves cling
To branches high
Not one wants
To release and die
A father dreams
Of his son’s flight
But silence returns
From this season’s night
[Chorus]
Seasons change
Seasons go
Season remain
Ever so slow
Summer leaves
To find its fall
The stillness breaks
Upon us all
The last cicada sings
The final tear falls
We are cold
We are so small
A baby cries
Her first breath of life
Mother’s arms are gone
An women will live in strife
[Chorus]
Sometimes we must burrow
Deep into the earth
Waiting there, searching
For the matter of our birth
Remembering when we can
That as this begins
We can return as
The last cicada sings
[Chorus]
The last cicada sings
Into the crisp fall air
A final call of
Fall’s end, winter’s era
Leaves cling
To branches high
Not one wants
To release and die
NOTE: in the depths of a hike in SC, i heard a lone cicada. while only weeks before i had heard the deafening noise of thier community screaming, only one remained. the words above come from that last cicada's song.
Human salvation lies in the hands of the creatively maladjusted. - Martin Luther King Jr.
The earth under foot
Passing
Thoughts fade into
Absence
Embraces singularity
Feels
Effortless striding
Forth
Coming homeward
Bound
Less of me resting
Heavy
Burdens dripping
Soaking
Into the soil beneath
Me
Passing
Thoughts fade into
Absence
Embraces singularity
Feels
Effortless striding
Forth
Coming homeward
Bound
Less of me resting
Heavy
Burdens dripping
Soaking
Into the soil beneath
Me
An illusive wisp
Sophia dancing
From our grasp and swirling
Into brief awareness
Remembered only as afterthoughts
Insulting epiphanies
Propelling us to the next level
Of incompetence
Sophia dancing
From our grasp and swirling
Into brief awareness
Remembered only as afterthoughts
Insulting epiphanies
Propelling us to the next level
Of incompetence