He sits calmly with his smile,
Peacefully listening to Billy’s soft smooth voice,
Its flow so pure
Calming the mind
Allowing memories of past days remembrance,
Of youth taken for granted but now just a dream
Jazz is number one
He often tells me so,
Summertime his favorite song,
Looking inward as he listens
Perhaps reliving his younger days
A time when the song was popular.
He was young
Playing his violin during the day,
Jazz clubs at night,
Who seeks (?),
What is it that pursues us (?),
Down the corridors of time of each small life
So quickly over with nothing to mark its passing,
Forgotten in short order by all.
Grace of offering being the stable point,
In the depths,
In patience infinite,
While all else changes in rapid sequence
Moving towards greater chaos and dysfunction;
With dying being the end for all.
Each death is the end of the universe,
The dark valley entered by e
The gift of melody with it different rhythms,
Soft, and gentle, soothing the soul;
Or fast pounding in its is presentation,
Causing the blood to burn as it flows,
Bringing life and the joy of movement to the fro,
Is like an arrow with it point aflame
Piercing the heart causing waters to burst forth,
A fountain of healing mist
Bringing life to an otherwise inner desert,
Parched and longing,
Thirsting for the living stream
Which only certain melodies can release.
Well I sighed to myself late yesterday afternoon, looked at myself in the rearview mirror in the car and said: a mood is coming on. I sometimes get raw around the edges, in which everything bothers me, the phone ringing, someone wanting my attention, perhaps the chores I know that need to be done but don’t want to do them. It feels like things are piling up, which leads to the emotion of being closed in and perhaps even trapped, and I hate that feeling on any level, of being closed in.
I meet Frank
One day in 93
Came to the home
On a mission
Of mercy and care
Or so he thought
The one he came to see
Was not happy
Something was amiss
So he came and stayed for awhile
Off his meds he was
Crazy as a loon
And such language
Would make a truck driver blush
He would smile sweetly
And bow slightly
And then start cursing vilely
Causing waves of confusion
In a usually quiet serene place
I saw him
Talked to him and said
This is not wo
There are times
As the wheel of life turns;
Interest nowhere to be found,
Seeing life in tones of grey,
Only desiring sleep without dreaming.
To just forget
Rest in oblivion,
No stress to bother nor worry.
No affliction of the mind,
The heart asleep
It restless search for a time at peace
At other times the world seems to be afire with beauty
Energy enough to have interest in all that comes;
Time for friends,
Life seen in vibrant colors
Aglow with e
The clouds so beautiful
Their forms diverse ever changing
Flowing from one form into another
In an effortless dance
Moving to an inner rhythm
But the beauty of movement there for all to see
In silence profound
Faith in what…..
In what can be seen,
Held in ones arms?
Believing in something
Hidden deep within the nature of things
Seen but as through a veil
Can seem to be impossible
A flight of fancy
Is it intuition that brings this about,
A hidden touch
Useless to try to explain?
Some have it some don't
The rift betwixt immense
Each seeing the other from a distance
I wonder how things would change,
If it is even possible,
Perhaps only by grace can such a thing happen,
If when looking into the face of a person truly evil,
Or thought to be so by human standards,
By any standard if the truth be told,
One who has caused pain and misery
On untold numbers.
Looking upon such a one.
Reviled by all,
What if by a miracle of grace and healing,
We saw a creature
Loved infinitely by God
How would tha
Backed into a corner
Working with the elderly has given me a certain perspective on life that others perhaps share, but don’t have it presented to them all the time like I do where I work. As we age we are at least for most of us, slowly but surely backed into a corner, were finally a place is reached, often feared by most, in which they have arrived at the point in their lives where they need to be taken care of. Once vibrant, strong and independent people are faced with the reality that
The inner world that each person has is truly an amazing phenomenon taken for granted; something so obvious and that often does not get much thought or attention. Yet it is what goes on in the inner universe that leads to the many different interpretation about what is really going on in the world outside, the world looked upon and the illusion that goes with it…… that objectivity is somehow reached in how events and people are weighed and judged.
I lug around with me almost 58 years of exper
Treading is what people often do,
Just trying to keep the head above water,
Struggling to stay afloat
With no surcease in sight.
Often alone with no one to say a kind word
Or offer a helping hand.
They are all around us,
Passing our way on the street,
Yet often they are not seen
Since it is hidden away.
Their hearts heavy laden
With life’s burdens;
They are often experienced as a pest
To be avoided,
Since to truly see what is undernea
Its corridors going nowhere
In a circle with the exit there hidden
Impossible to find
Until stopping seems to be the only solution
Frantic searching useless
Leading further into the labyrinth.
Like the mind with its endless turning
The same thoughts
Arguments or excuses
Played over and over thru out a lifetime
With no escape from it insistent whispering
Separating from reality those caught in its web
Victim hood a harsh task master
Breathe in the pain of the world
And then breathe it out again.
Allow your compassion to flow,
Unite with those who suffer like you
And then let the air flow outward
Into the loving light of the Eternal One…..
Who also breathes in the pain of the world
And embraces those who suffer…..
See yourself in others,
Of the image thrown back be not afraid;
For indeed we are one
And with one heart we beat
Though not so obvious at times.
Whatever you do to the least,
You do to
Out of sight out of mind as the saying goes,
Except things repressed
Continue to boil,
The pressure often below awareness,
Until one sunny day
Or a look
Will bring the restraints crashing down,
The magma rising to the surface,
The explosion changing the landscape
Perhaps a life ended without warning,
The one left not knowing what happened,
Not understanding the cold rage that came to
Absurdity at times seems to rule,
The days pass in a rapidity unstoppable
Death moving ever closer,
The past growing ever longer,
Then one day the future is short,
Time once seeming to be abundant
Shows it scarcity
As the end comes into sight.
Seeing the cliff that will propel over into darkness
Eternal our exit from this life
All our pains,
Sorrows and fears
Gone like vapor,
Like the blossom of the rose gone in a few days.
In the darkness a
Locked within a small cell the first time offender sat
Longing to look out the window to high for him to view
His punishment harsh but deserved
There was hope for change when his time began
The jungle he now lives in has other plans for him
Abused and raped
A gang the only way to be safe
A family adopted and loved
All others enemies outside to be used or killed
Whatever is convenient at the time
Humanity slowly dying
God is such a funny term,
So generic and easy to use,
It slips off the tongue smoothly
Either in praise or in a curse,
Easy to make trivial,
To seek to box in
By certain theologies or beliefs,
Thinking that the mind of God can be known,
By simple quotes,
Thereby damming those who are different;
Who see the eternal with different understandings.
God's image is what we are made in,
The eternal not in ours,
Though in reality that is what is most w
I think my harshest critic is myself, perhaps which is why I am not overly concerned about what others think of me. They could never be as hard on me as I am. I often get stuck in the same old rut over and over again. Perhaps that is why I am always writing about the wheel, and trying to simply either get off or to stop the cycle. In some areas I have done that, while in others I am still strapped to the outer rim going around and around helpless to get off. One reason is that I don’t want t
We pass each other every day,
Nodding and smiling
Then forgetting the face of the one just pasted.
Like a river people come into our lives,
Some part and flow around us
Others come ashore in one way or another.
Some to bring joy into our lives,
Still a few to bring great suffering,
Teaching us how to deal with anger;
Resentment with it unrelenting pain,
Grabbing by the neck and shaking without mercy
Until the lesson learned and the cycle broken.
It grows slowly at first,
Then it spreads,
Its tendrils encasing the soul
Allowing no rest from the inner chatter.
Thoughts become obsessive
Until the act is done
And a life ruined.
A story often repeated
With no lesson learned
By those who hear
The sad tale so often played out
Joy and sorrow are partners in the dance of life
A tango or perhaps a two step who knows,
One leading and then the other
In an interplay of happiness and loss
Both needed for the other to exist at all.
For joy alone becomes nothing,
Like the ocean without waves,
So calm that life lessens,
The intensity gone with only boredom remaining.
In this world both must be present
For the pilgrims journey to continue,
Over the mountain
And thru the dark valley
That each mu
Had lunch with Leo this Wednesday, and decided to try a new place for lunch. Probably did it more for me than for him, since I am not sure he remembers our trips, at least in a detailed manner. He always responds positively to the new images that he gets from his surroundings, and also likes the music that is played over the speaker system. That day they were playing R & B tunes which he seems to enjoy very much. As usual I had to show him how to use his straw for the tea, but he caugh
Carl Jung coined the word “synchronicity” to denote an experience that so coincides with a need that it seems to be somehow part an parcel of reality. Most people have these experiences, some so outlandish that those who have them are convinced that there is something greater than they are involved. There is one book out call “when God winks” to discuss this phenomenon.
I suppose I have had my share, and I would like to relate one of these experiences that happened to me many years ago,
Dr. George G. Ritchie, a psychiatrist who, as a young man at Camp Barkeley in Texas, "died" for nine minutes during a horrible bout of pneumonia and claimed to have been shown the afterlife by none other than Jesus. You discern. We wrote about him a while back and feel compelled to revisit aspects we could not focus upon back then, for the experience was powerful at many unexplored levels.
When he saw Jesus, wrote Dr. Ritchie, it was a far more masculine power than he expected, not the meek im