Samuel Pepys did not have a laptop; but if he did, imagine the number of words. I imagine also that the kinds of conversations between Sam and his digital ego. Cataloguing the mundane, the divine and the profane, the human attempts and the human failures, the hope that attends the former, and the regret which follows the latter. In …
So many people looking for new work these days. Not only because their position was economically eliminated, but also early-life or mid-life change, or a lack of satisfaction or fulfillment that has crept in over time. On a long mountain hike this past weekend, two of our companions spoke of their desire to move out …
Because the stone is washed by the riverspray, and pine needles litter its surface, the girl walks carefully. As the root-stained water boils through the canyon, its incessant stirring cutting cauldrons in the bedrock, as pebbles are spun around and around and around, the voice of the current is a roar that doesn't pause for …
"So is it study or is it art?" The first is a wick drawn by a practiced hand, straight through wax. Patience dipped again and again to fill out a candle's form, layer on layer for length, strength and stability. There is dedication in study, repeated practice like a mantra, mastery a form of devotion. You give yourself and …
I offered to be part of our community "Solstice Sing"* when it was a small offering among ourselves and local musicians… nice venue to sing a little song, among friends. Then more folks got wind of it, and suddenly there were top-notch professional performers and singers and sound healers surfing in! It made for a fine event… and left …
I suggested yet again that our death is introduced when we are born, the seed of our departure planted upon our arrival, and perfect darkness as a backdrop for all the colors and sights and sounds of this little, lovely (hopefully at times seen as lovely) life. Can't I just hang that one up for once? No. I don't …
I haven’t written so many poems. Nor have I penned a single novel, though there is one waiting, and behind that one, who knows?, maybe another. I have been blessed with a few songs. I used to draw well, a lifetime ago. I am responsible for a half-carved Buddha, who patiently waits inside a few …
At first it is a passage of days, and you measure them in days from, your eyes and your heart reaching outward, and the familiar – perhaps the mundane – gently is displaced by the roll of the deck, the expanding horizon, the constancy of the wind, the salt on your lips. Run your tongue …
“Don’t.” Behind the counter, a seventeen-year-old is washing glasses and setting them to dry on a cloth by the mirror. Her back is to the room, but from as she washes, dries, sets a glass upside down, and them repeats, her eyes go up and to the left and follow guests as they enter and leave. Her friend is …
I don't seek painful experiences; but pain, and its companion-echo, anguish, find me. I suppose that, as often as not, this is due to unskillful navigation in the waters of life, whose shoals and reefs demand the best of a master sailor: hard to starboar–! Oh. Get out yer hammers and yer cotton caulking, lads; we're shippin' water! As …
Somewhere in between acquaintance and friend I asked why?, and she answered: I survived cancer. It was some years ago, she said, a decade now without another challenge. I counted back: how young! And the thought dissolved – as some thoughts do – becoming a gentle interior rain, washing down to common ground, what is …
The sun’s touch soft today, the air perfumed with sweetest taste of spring, simple, with no effort, the round globe leans toward its lover, longs for love, and every living thing becomes a blossom. I gave myself an hour – no more than an hour was needed – and left my labor to rest, set it on the desk, …