Tuesday, September 30, 2008


I don’t know where to begin and I don’t know how to say it. I could start with the light of the fall morning on the slopes across from my window. I could start with the tears that I’ve shed over the changes in my physical capabilities or the ones that start when I survey the damage that I’ve done to myself. Not damage, really, but life energy expended, never to be retrieved except through the learning. And what to do with that learning? Who would I teach? How would I codify it?

It’s so not about who you vote for. It’s not about your retirement account or where you live. How do you love and who waits for you so patiently and quietly that you so seldom realize His presence? There is no time. There is all the time. And now is the only now we have.

The candle does not gutter low, neither is it as tall as it once was. It is the only candle we have. This day begins like others have and will and there are things that must be attended to.

Pass by the people on the street, the ones on bikes, the youth, those who strive to win and change the world. The world will not be changed. It is. Life is not. There are greater things.

Sometimes I wish the Cancer would make up its mind to either kill me or leave me alone. I grow tired of living in between. I am grateful that I am healthy now, though tired at times but one wonders every day if this is the day or tomorrow is the day or next Spring or late February or just exactly fucking when.

Monday, September 1, 2008

Another Wednesday on the Road

There is so much to say to so many. It will all be said.
Damp sea air, long beach predawn
The smell of god, waves crashing unseen, unheard, somewhere relentlessly.
People drive too fast to acknowledge let alone offer love to the pines and eucalyptus trees in the median.
Just another 'thing' at 40 mph, like another car or a stop sign.
I walk through the median among the traffic and touch each one and tell them I love them.
And I will soon be in a cab, then a busy airport, then a plane, then an airport, then a cab again.
I am my lesson, this body, this mind, this open hearted connectedness.
And so I stop to listen and notice, for me and for all of us, just for this moment.