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talking to myself

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personal stuff

Entries in this blog

 

Courage and humor

Courage and humor In the mid-seventies I used to deliver bread to some of the stores in Atlanta. One of my favorite stops was at a Big Star store at Ansley Mall. The mall was situated in a predominantly Jewish section of Atlanta with a large population of elderly. I would often wonder about the many oldsters that I would see there, most of them quiet; either shopping or sitting outside waiting for the bus, talking among them selves, enjoying each others company. Others seemed lost in their

markdohle

markdohle

 

Nothing to be done

I saw her one morning at the airport, waiting for someone to pick her up, lost among the hurrying throng that swirled around her, unnoticed, and soon forgotten if even seen. Why she attracted my attention I do not know, but she did, and I guess that is enough. She was plain, poorly dressed, and she appeared so tired that if she dropped to the ground and took a nap, it would not have surprised me. Sadness rolled off of her like cold from ice, fog like, it muted her effect on her surrounding

markdohle

markdohle

 

My friend William

Slowly the disease gains it deadly ground, The minds bright light slowly dimming, Often forgetting where he is at; The year he inhabits long part of history. Thinking he is somewhere else. Calling out for help to find his family, Now long dead in their graves sleeping. I want my mom, he says to me sadly, Please give me a dollar so I can go home. Over and over we have this discussion, The same conclusion foreknown by all but him. The loss of short term memory at times a bles

markdohle

markdohle

 

Will I be washed away

Will I be washed away? I wish my heart was open Allowing tears to flow. Free, Without shame, A healing flood I deny myself, The key hidden I know not where. One day possibly it will not matter, The key, For the barrier will crumble perhaps. I sense cracks forming in the dikes, Allowing whatever behind to flow in freedom, If only a little. What is it like, That expression, Tears? Will I be washed away? In so many ways communicated tears. Expressing anger, Sor

markdohle

markdohle

 

The dark path

The light is eternal often hidden beneath the pain, Hope lies buried under layers of despair, Fear fed by courage unused, Deep in the void is the seed of faith. Dark the path blinded by the light, We stumbled while racing towards the finish line

markdohle

markdohle

 

Rites of passage

I can remember the exact moment that I finally came to the realization that everything my parents told me was not true. It was not earth shattering, at least as far as trust in my parents went, for I guess I understood on some level why they did not tell me the whole truth at the time. Also I already knew, I was just not allowing it to come to full conciseness, I needed a shock to bring it to full awareness. I was ten when it happened, just turned ten in fact. Also we had just moved to Pa

markdohle

markdohle

 

The young woman

The young woman came and sat beside me, Tired, care worn, Worry sketched across her face From the burden she lovingly bore. The bundle small, Sleeping, Unknowing of the love surrounding it, Nor the danger it was in. The child three days old, Seeming perfect in its repose, Content and safe in its mother’s arms. Simple folk, Grandmother, Mother, and daughter, A trinity of feminine hope and love, Poured out knowing the horror that may come. An endless vo

markdohle

markdohle

 

Opening the gate

The entering….. Opening the gate never passed, Exposing paths never trod, Brings fear and doubt. Seeking truth does that, Leading gently to greater depth and understanding, In the end, knowing how little is known or understood. Humility, the fruit of not clinging, allowing truth to grow. Seeing others on the journey, fellow travelers well met, Seekers of truth above all else. Ideas of God let go of, Childish projection, allowed dying, Blinded by the light of the infinite.

markdohle

markdohle

 

Side by side

The world within is a nation unto itself, Fractured society it often seems, Elements of destruction, Also the desire for growth, Live side by side often at war, A ragtag army of malcontents Seeking to drown those who are wise, Who calmly whisper their counsel. Complete satiation from fulfilled desire denied, Only deeper hunger remains, Worse still a deadly lethargy feeding off emptiness, Driving one to seek with deeper desperation, Something, anything, that can’t be fo

markdohle

markdohle

 

Gift offered

Winter sun in cold air crisp, Leaves that crunch under every step, Cool nights with delightful rain, Winds adding to the beauty of the season. Stars visible in sky clear of summer mist, Silent, no sound except the gentle whisper of wind, Caressing skin in a lovers touch, Bringing peace as the gift offered.

markdohle

markdohle

 

This moment also His

This moment so much like the one before, Yet unique as all moments are, My blindness keeps me from the newness of this instant, Which leads to a flatness, A sameness, Something that leads to despair. Pregnant is what each moment is. Expectant, If I cannot see that, Then I am asleep, Missing the invitation to deeper life, A transforming relationship beyond all time. Moments converge, On the Moment, The eternal, In which all time is contained, It is

markdohle

markdohle

 

Taken for prudence

Fear is a task master hard to serve, Offering protection from what life demands, Back stepping a way of life, Slowly draining freedom dry, Into a corner back into, with only one escape; Moving forward into life once again, if one dares. Fear faced, backs down, With anxiety and anger next to contend with; A hard road to find peace, Layer upon layer to discover, The path to freedom Not for the faint hearted. Overly concern of what others think, When in fact they really d

markdohle

markdohle

 

An encounter

I was parked in the Kroger parking lot here in Conyers, Ga., waiting for Ed to return from a stop he needed to make. As I sat in my car, making my brain even more dead by listening to talk radio, which seems to be saying, that the world is on the verge of being made into a smoothie, by the blender of the world situation. Just add some ice cream for flavor, and let Bush, or whoever is made the current villain, press the button. Add that to looking out on a very crowded parking lot and well you

markdohle

markdohle

 

My old tired struggle

My old tired struggle My innards boil, Rage like a fiery serpent taunt, Coiled with dark energy seeking a target, Lusting to strike, Unthinking. In a blessed unconscious moment, A scapegoat sought, To release my pent up repressed rage. Followed by shame, Repression yet again. Rage deep, In caverns bottomless hidden, Its roots wrapped around my heart Squeezing hard, Shattering the soul An endless maze with no escape, Or so it seems. Something false I sometimes

markdohle

markdohle

 

Odd that

We make God into a monster, Creating out of love we say he does, Yet, On the other hand, With fervor strong, deep, and hot, Claiming that evil in the end wins. The majority outside of God’s love To hell doomed, Fiery torment unending, Men and women like me, For some even children, Cosigned to eternal torture. How easy it slips from the tongue, A simple quote, Verse mentioned, To hell consigned, Darkness cold absolute, Satan wins with the greater number, While

markdohle

markdohle

 

One of those days

Yesterday was one of those days. You know how it is………as the hour’s progress things seem to build up, inner tension worsens, and about all that can be done is to simply try to get by without taking it out on someone else. I can get real short with people if my inner reserves get too stretched. I sometimes get a brittle feeling, sort of like dry taffy pulled to the point of tearing in into two pieces. I know it is just part of the cycle, moods change, energy levels vary, but that does not me

markdohle

markdohle

 

Flight

Dancing to the music Allowing the rhythm to lead, The intuitive flow the teacher, Leading the body in movement ecstatic, Freeing the mind of narcissistic concern, Only the moment important, Surfing the high wave of melody, Time forgotten, A taste of the eternal creative moment. Flying as the body moves, Mind, body, soul, becoming one, Flight possible in the dance, Weightless as the music possesses Feet forgotten allowing them to move In effortless union with the sou

markdohle

markdohle

 

Scattered on the wind

Why, I often asked myself, Are my insides in conflict? Saying one thing, doing the opposite, Acting strong in control, Knowing I am weak and compelled. I often feel like an undisciplined mob Scattered on the wind, Thoughts racing going nowhere. Yet, Who is it asking the question, This observer calmly looking on. Am I one or many? When death comes Is this observer the one who survives? The riddle life deepens, Knowing less each day, Yet the roots of faith hold st

markdohle

markdohle

 

Kindness unmentioned upon

What we take for granted is often of greatest value, Foolishly thought to be eternal When actually to be torn away suddenly, Leaving a void of regret Cold and dark filled with memories, Remembrance of a smile, The gentle touch, Kindness unmentioned upon, Now understood and mourned, Never again to be experienced From the one taken for granted. It is so easy to forget we are temporal, Impermanent, Our lives like morning mist soon to be gone. This forgetfulness comes at

markdohle

markdohle

 

Reasons

The days don’t fly by, They meld. Bumping into each other, So close are they. Each moment an invitation Seeking a response I often cannot give, For reasons I often don’t understand, At other times I do.

markdohle

markdohle

 

Good day's, bad day's

One of my duties when I arrive in the infirmary is to get Leo up, on the days the Hospice nurse does not come in. Because of his advanced Alzheimer’s he is eligible for hospice care, which is helpful for us. He has his own nurse, and a PCT comes in a couple of times a week for personal care. First thing in the morning, Leo is often ‘clear’. His aphasia seems to be less, and he can answer questions, speaking clearly. He can on most mornings, walk back and forth from the bathroom with a li

markdohle

markdohle

 

Not always a good idea

As I was leaving the dinning room today, I saw William at the table and stopped for awhile to see how he was doing. He seemed to be doing well, and after a brief discussion I went to the door, hit the combination and left. Before the lock could catch, William came through the door asking if he could talk to me for a moment. I could tell he was in a place of great discomfort, that for some reason he did not let me see when I was talking to him over the dinning room table. So we went into one

markdohle

markdohle

 

Gentle touch

A smiling face, or gentle touch, Often dispels the darkness surrounding me, Christ healing presence expressed in the simplest gestures. We are Christ to each other, Humble vessels used by the divine, Icons of the transcendent, channels of infinite love. The world a sacrament, People Eucharist, The Holy in the most humble places. Christ walked the earth, Our temple the ground we walk on, Those around us the sanctuary. To see and experience that grace before us, Within al

markdohle

markdohle

 

Hanging in frigid air

There are days when my heart is restless, un-rooted, Torn from the earth hanging in frigid air, Seeking once again a simple place of refuge, and peace, Often denied as I wander empty and sometimes frantic. The world seen as faded, without energy, unrelated, So I wander from thing to thing, Object to object, As an orphan seeking a home, warmth, and belonging. Neither books, nor food, nor music, nor prayer consoles, Like an earth bound soul I wander, The spirits inward cold, s

markdohle

markdohle

 

Rainy days

Yesterday was cloudy, rainy, cool, So peaceful without the bright sunlight Hurting the eyes and burning the skin. I so love fog, rain, mist and low lying clouds, As if you could reach up and almost touch them The sound of rain on leaves, both gentle and rough, Better than any kind of music to my ears, Causing deep thoughts to arise but in a peaceful sort of way. The gently glowing light on a book that I am reading, Feeling so at home in the grey like darkness. At night feelin

markdohle

markdohle