What is Food?

This morning, as I lay there in the aftermath of the morning battle with the alarm clock, sifting through the scattered remnants of thought, one concept kept floating to the surface. A consistent question. What is food?

In its most basic definition, it is sustenance. If taken by that definition alone, than the standard food pyramid as we know it clearly does not allow for all the elements required to sustain a human being, either physically or in a more complete context.

So what is food if answered in a fuller context? If I had answered that question last night, without hesitation I would have added sleep to the pyramid. Now, in the daylight having added that necessary element to my body's needs. I wonder what else should be added to the list.

I find myself thinking that laughter, touch, warmth, beauty, music and even silence are all items that seem necessary to living, to breathing. And as I write this it occurs to me that Kahil Gibran would be wise enough to add their opposites, so that we might appreciate the value of all of the positives I have noted.

Perhaps Food, when defined as sustenance, is simply that which we require to feel fully alive. If we were to live simply fueled by the desigated items on the food pyramid we have been taught to respect, I suspect we might indeed continue to function. But I doubt we would truly LIVE. And this indeed would be a shame.

So I ask you, what is Food to you?

A question that perhaps does bear pondering..........Just Thinking Out Loud.

Tales by the Hearth Anyone?

In the darkness, counting breaths, when sleep does not come, where does the mind travel to? Are you lost in the myriad trivialities of the day gone by, or counting all of the pressures of the day to come?

Perhaps you lay there staring through the darkness seeking the red thread that links all of you to - you.

I find, more often than not lately, that I am telling myself new versions of old myths and fairytales. Providing them new twists and turns that somehow bring them into sharper focus for me. I can see the Children of Lir standing on the sea shore as their song dwindles and their shapes transform into swans. I can feel the sea's salty spray as they are swept away from the land and lives they have known. I watch in my mind as Grania puts the sleeping potion into the goblets of the warriors at her father's banquet table to avoid the marriage to the old chieftain. I can see her making her escape with Diarmuid in the dead of that Irish night. I can almost feel the regret he bears for accepting her geasa and breaking his oath of fealty to that same chieftain. The stories spin and weave until I finally drift into slumber.

I wonder if I finish the tales in my sleep. The reckless adventures, the lover's triangles, the bravery of the children as they find their way home. Yet all I can remember in the morning is a sense of ease that surrounds me as I face the new day. I like to believe that somewhere in the retelling, the tales have become softer, the hardships for those travelers also lessened. Perhaps their gift to me has been repaid simply in my remembering them?

I do know this, these grand tales of our ancestors. They are indeed gifts. Curing my insomnia and easing the ache of my days. Perhaps we should take them out of our childhood and dust them off more often.

Who knows what gifts we might uncover as a people were we to share them at our hearths together as they did then?

Wonder .............. a Forward

I am lucky to be graced with a friend who shares a daily thought - sometimes with laughter in mind, but often about the human condition.

Typically he sends a quote and follows with his commentary.

What was sent today was too "wonder"-ful not share beyond his list of readers...(a personal aside - I am thankful to be one of the chosen few)

So without further ado:

Wonder is not an obligatory element in the search
for truth. We can seek truth without wonder's
assistance -- but seek is all we can do: there will
be no finding. Until wonder descends, unlocks us,
turns us slack-jawed, truth is unable to enter.
Wonder may be the aura of truth, the halo of it.
Or something even closer. Wonder may be the
caress of truth, touching our very skin.

-- David James Duncan, from God Laughs
& Plays

*******************************************

Wonder is not a condition we grasp; it grasps us.
We have the freedom, and capacity for stupidity,
to elude wonder's grasp. But why?


Steve Weems

Why indeed?

Puzzle Pieces

Moments. Life seems to be segmented into little slices these days. Quicksilver pieces of time, each with its own rhythm and feel. Parts connected to the whole that is me, yet not connected to each other.

The fragments that make up who I am. Like pieces of a puzzle. The little girl yearning to play in the rain. The mother fretting over a twisted ankle. The focused worker-bee striving to complete yet one more task before the day is through. The human who just needs that quick break to laugh and dance in the sunshine. The artist who misses her paints. And the daughter who misses her mother.

I seem to be tripping over these fragments from day to day, wondering what to do with some and others - well just holding them and running with them pell-mell trying to get them to fit. Fit into the puzzle that is my life, even if I don't quite understand where or what all the pieces may be.

Perhaps I am moving too fast. Perhaps, if I can just stand still the fragments will all fall around me and I can sweep them together until they coalesce into someone I recognize.

Gee, I hope I like that person when I finally stop to meet her.

Now, that is a thought to give one a bit of pause in a frenetic day.

Quote to Ponder

In the course of history, there comes a time
when humanity is called to shift to a new level
of consciousness, to reach a higher moral ground.
A time when we have to shed our fear and give
hope to each other. That time is now.

-- Wangari Maatha, Kenyan biologist,
veterinarian anatomist, environmental and
political activist, Nobel Peace Prize
recipient (b. 1940)

I don't have any words to add to this. I think this says it all and more.

But look at the date. How long have we been staring at this need without taking action? Have we become like deer facing the hunter's headlights?

Just thinking out loud.

On Being Mortal

Mortality. Now that is a word that even the mathmeticians have not tried to change the meaning of.

I don't know about you. But my first day in calculus I knew I was going to have BIG issues. When the professor opened up with "learning how to place a limit on infinity" - I knew was in the wrong class.

I thought to myself, 'Hey Lady, do you know the meaning of the word?" The whole point of the word is that it is limitless. I bet you can guess that my career as a mathemetician was doomed from that point forward. I did manage to scrape through the class, but it never really set well with me. All I can say is "Thank the Gods" that the final exam was worth so much and that it was an essay question.

Any way to get back on point, it seems that we spend much of our lives not really understanding this word mortal or mortality. We hear it, but we don't get it. I know I never really even came close until I dealt with my Father passing away.

Growing up, I was always told that he would always be there for me. And looking back, there was never a time that he wasn't there. He was there when I needed a friend. There when I needed a little doctoring. And definitely there when I needed a good slap-up-side the head. Yes, he was always there for me. So when he told me he had the big "C", it never really occurred to me that he could DIE. You see for me, he was IMMORTAL. He was my DAD. I had never, ever thought about the day when he might not physically be here on the planet.

I wonder now how many times I have told my boys that I will always be there for them - and what they may face when they discover that not only am I not perfect (though perhaps they know this already) - I am infact also mortal.

Perhaps our mathmeticians would have served us all much better had they found a means of removing the limits set by the concept of mortality rather than giving us a way to limit the infinite. But I suppose we already have world-wide hunger so that would just set another wheel in motion.

I suppose what we learn from the word alone is that now truly is the time to live. Not in the frenetic ways of the young (though that indeed was fun), but with the wisdom of knowing that life is worth living well. With good people, good intentions and in balance. Work to live, live to love and laugh and avoid the complications of words like legacy, etc.

I guess being mortal is fine. As long as my spirit remains infinitely open to the abundance around me, who needs forever?

Rise with the Wind

There is this song by Martina McBride, it begins with a great visual image

My right hand holds matches, my left holds my past.
I hope the wind catches and burns it down fast.
I'm going to step into the fire with my failures and my shame
and wave goodbye to yesterday as I dance among the flames
So don't try to save me now
Let the walls of my world all burn down
Just stand back and wait til the smoke finally passes
and I will rise from the Ashes

I think of this Phoenix image and it burns so brightly, but oh so very sadly. There are times indeed when I would stand in the path of these sparks. But I know how much I would regret burning those bridges that connect me to the roots of who I am. And when I look at yesterday, and at my failures I realize I am not truly ashamed of anything. Everything I am has come through all of those experiences. Even those actions that I would never repeat again. The sum and total of who I am streams from all of this. If I were to burn it all away, cleanse myself completely - what then would be left to constitute me?

I do not need to cling to those aspects of the past that have given me lessons through negative experience. I can simply learn from these lessons and move on. But would I want to expell them in a flash of fire? No, I need the strength, the support to the core of my integrity that each experience has added over time. And I would not want to burn away the joys for they inspire me daily. They remind me of the light and help guide me when I feel shrouded in darkness.

My right hand holds the earth, my left seeks my path
I hope the wind rises and sweeps me in its grasp
I'm going to step into the mael-stream with my future rest assured
And wave hello to yesterday as I dance among the clouds
So don't try to slow me down
Just watch me turn and twirl around
Just stand back and wait til the Wind finally lapses
And I will rise full and content
At least for the moment

Dance Anyone?

When I was a little girl, my Mom made me this wonderful cape-like poncho. It was this great shade of claret on one side and a soft lavender threaded with bits of blue and shards of red on the other.

I remember most wearing this home on summer nights. The wind lifting it gently to swirl around my hips. The sun just dipping past the horizon. Those would be lavender days. Blossom scented nights that you could taste and almost touch the pure sweetness of. Languid and wonderful, dreamy walks that seemed to take you out of time and somehow took so much longer to get home than they normally would.

Then there were the nights when it would storm. I would almost always shift the colors around, to see the lightning break across that brilliant claret color, and then to fold back into darkness. The color was so rich and deep that without the light, I was virtually a part of the night. It was like being magic. The thrill of the electricity and the sounds of thunder breaking open the sky - and me there dancing in the rain, a part of the magic of it all. Twirling and shifting from light to shadow. There and then not.

I have often wondered where and when I laid my magic cape aside. Still, there are times, when the moon calls me and I strive to follow. I crave to wander down the silent streets and breathe the blossom air, full of the sweet goodness. And I sometimes I feel myself waiting, patiently (or not)for the storm to rise and set me free to dance in its playful patterns of light. Perhaps I no longer have my cape, but the magic dwells within and it calls to that little girl who knew the intricate dance so well.

Perhaps, I will dance with lightning tonight - to do that, would be
ever so en - light - ning. Dance anyone?

Snippets

This world moves so fast. I feel as if I am being swept along in its turbulence. We have modified so much of who we are to be almost at light speed. We communicate without seeing or hearing. We meet without greeting. We have become intimate while being completely tangential.

How does any of this make sense? Its sort of like living in a fractured fairy tale. We have so much granduer and beauty. We know so many wonderful people. We find so many new and interesting ideas, images and sounds every day. But we seem to do all of this at a distance. This worldwide web that has brought us all so much closer, woven a fabric of global connection, yet is also sets us apart.

We learn to connect in this new way. In quick snippets of thought. A shared bit of music, poetry or art. Slipping in and out of each other's lives in a random dance. Yes, it is wonderful, but it is also in someways rather sad. I wonder if we will eventually lose the subtler art of long conversations on the front porch. Of sharing an evening of song rather than just posting one to share. Will we get so good at filling the gaps in our lives with this constant internet dance that we no longer need the rest?

Already I see glimpses of a world where our ability to speak is shriveled. The kids on the street are talking in text-talk. Quick abbreviations for full sentences. Entire conversations can be held like this - its like a whole new language. What would normally take at least 15 minutes to exchange is over in less than 2. And then they are off - just a few quick snippets, no real time to connect and no real need to.

How human or humane will our world be if we reduce ourselves to this? And what will I do with my walls and walls of books that no one will ever think to read again when that time comes to pass?

BE.......................

What do get when you look at your world upside down? Does it truly change your perspective or does the blood just rush to your head?

What would you give to choose just one day, any day to have to live over again? You don't get to change it - but you get to feel all of it again. Which one would you pick? And if you could only pick one, would you pick now - or would you wait? Would you wait because chances are there might be a day so glorious in the tomorrows to come that you would want to re-live that day - only you haven't experienced it yet?

How many impossible questions can you ask yourself about what you would do if only you could, before you realize you are answering them every minute by the choices you make in every day?

What does it take for the people we are to become the people we want to be? When I look inside of me - who is it that I see? Can you answer that question and be happy with what you hear?

Day to day, moment to moment - it really is all we have. If we keep living for the next day to bring us closer to who, where or what we want to be - we will always be waiting. And while this may keep us breathless with anticipation, it is unlikely to ever be truly fulfilling.

Challenge to action for the day: Be that person now, live it now - and yes, I know there are wants and dreams you have not reached - or maybe cannot reach - but own what you have with relish -

Think - Jonathan Livingston Seagull - BE -

(I still like the music from that movie - thank you Neil Diamond)

Delicious..............

Feeling ripped and fine this glorious day. Charged up. Nothing to do but clear the 800 pounds of paper from my desk and convince the gnarly screaming woman with big hair to exit - stage anywhere but my office.

Life is surprisingly good. I want to dance on my desk, rock down the hall, do a little Gene Kelly number down the stairs and make my grand exit into the sunshine. Well I would, if the sun were shining - but that is totally beside the point. It is shining inside me. I feel absolutely GRAND!

And for no better reason than because, I do. Go figure.

I would analyze this feeling. But why bother? I just want to enjoy it, roll around in it. I want to wrap myself up in it like a lanquid silk sheet and let it slither around me - chilling and awesome.

New thought - I totally have blackberries and cream and home. And with that thought, I am back to the paper poundage - shifting it all at least from one side of my desk to the other before I go home.

I have this feeling to enjoy and a great desert to look forward to, hope you have something similar working for you today. -

Delicious...............

Suspended - Vacation for the Soul

This sleepy feeling warms me as much as it weighs me down. The portent of rain and shadow hovers over the bed. Each movement seems to drag itself through invisbible quicksand. It is almost as if I am moving through time that is begging to stand still.

Dressing for the day, I can sense that I am moving toward a vacumm. This will be a day that collapses around itself. A perfect day to reflect on nothing, to allow its utter lack of color to enable the soul to just float unfettered, knowing that the day will not carry forward or backward. It will just be - suspended.

There is a part of me that itches to get back to my normal hurried rhythms, driving and thriving through the rush of daily life. I suppose this accounts for the feeling of weight. Yet the warmth cannot be discounted. I feel cocooned in this knowledge, this feeling that somehow this day has become disconnected. It is a rare gift, if accepted. A day of complete ease.

I recognize that my responsibilities have not been lifted. Those that demand my time and attention are still there, at my doorstep, on my phone, waiting (patiently or not) for a response to their latest missive. But I sense, that somehow, I have carved out a space in time, where I have freed myself from these demands.

How or why, I do not contemplate. I am so used to being totally tapped and wired in that this rarity is not something I want to understand. I would rather just enjoy the moment. Breathe softly. Watch the steam form patterns on the glass and sip my tea. I listen to the ever increasing quiet that grows inside and begin to find that smile that I can no longer suppress, rising umbidden to my lips.

Is this what freedom feels like? Or do I just need a vacation?

Come Fly

I feel a bit like Mary Poppins. The wind is so strong today that with or without a parasol I sense that I could fly. Once, not that long ago, on the windy streets of Chicago, a friend of mine did just that. The skirts of her raincoat lifted up and she flew. Up from the pavement and was swept away. The wind had her in is grasp and took her up in the air, hovered ever so briefly then swept her across the street and through the revolving doors of the building she worked at. Perhaps the wind knew she was late getting back from lunch? Or perhaps it was just a Wil-O'-the-Wisp come to tantalize for those few brief seconds only to bring her back to ground (and none to softly I might add).

I glance down at my pencil-slim skirt and am both relieved and a bit disconcerted to note that it does not have the capacity to billow-out and float along with the wind. Perhaps I should have worn something more likely to catch the wind's attention. I can feel it licking my legs and lifting my hair. It whispers softly at first and then seems to howl. "Come Fly. Taste me. Feel me. I am, I am, I am." A constant thrumming rhythm that sets my heart to thumping. I long to free myself of the gravitational pull that holds me to the ground.

I envy my friend her brief coupling with this dynamic force, despite her hard landing. This power of nature is like a pure breath blessing the land and its people. Just enough chill in it to leave your skin feeling cleansed by the pleasure of its touch.

I can sense the danger of its appeal, yet I cannot help the longing I feel to be lifted into its embrace. Here in this one moment I am full of rapture. And I sense that perhaps I understand the meaning of Grace. Is that what is so compelling about this aspect of nature? Is its ability to lift you from the minutia of life into a world so much bigger that gives it such wonder? I am not sure, and do not really care if I ever know. I am only grateful for this moment with it. Whether I truly fly or not. My thoughts and my spirit have been lifted with it and that is gift enough.

Come fly, feel me, I am, I am, I am.....pulsing, breathing, creating, within and without .... You are, You are, You are.... Flying

Spreading the LIGHT

The sun is shining through the slats in my blinds, making intricate patterns through the room. I itch to raise them up and let its full glory dispense itself and break the static of this shrine to work and productivity. Yet I remain seated, head facing the screen in front of me, a victim of my own ethics. I will give myself this brief respite. These few moments to express myself, and then I must return to my real day, the work that I have pledged myself to complete.

I know that I am lucky. I have a job. It pays for my food, shelter, insurance and all of the other luxuries we have been informed by Congress and society that we cannot live without. There are many who do not have this or even close to this. I know this because part of what I do is struggle to find ways to link people to these opportunities. Yet, there are times, such as today, when I wonder, if perhaps we did not have it closer to right many years ago.

When our people lived in closer communion with the land and with each other. I am a realist to some extent. I know that we fought wars then as we do now. I know that the medical care was not as advanced and many of the same diseases existed then as they do now. But as we read the history books, I do not see the social diseases being highlighted in the way we have them today.

Perhaps this was Malthusian law at work in its most natural state. Perhaps at that time we had not yet developed as many ways to tease and trick our ways to defer this impact. Though I think at this point we have at long last learned we cannot escape its truth. Much like taxes, it can be deferred, but not escaped. It can be passed to our heirs, who may yet defer it again. However in the end, it does demand its toll.

I rise now and turn to the blinds, I think it is time to just let the sun blast in. There has to be a place in this office where the sun will not blind the screen. And I think I can find it and then continue on doing what I can to help with this deferral process. It is at this point the only part I know how to play, as it does not seem likely that our overt systems will convert to that of our ancestor's quiet ways anytime soon.

And when I leave for the day, I think I will take some time to commune with the earth, and with the people around me. To connect directly and perhaps even spontaneously. To see if in my own way I can revive the concept of the kindred spirit. Perhaps we can create a linking of the people, without the system, that helps begin the process of returning to more natural ways - and lets the light seep in everywhere.

The Emptiness Within

When you feel the emptiness inside you, is it yours, do you own it? Or is the absence of someone? How and when do you know the difference? The gaping maw that drags through your belly working to devour you - is that you nibbling at yourself? Or is that loss eating at the boundaries of your soul stemming from absence?

What if there was never anything really there to lose? How do you begin to face the answer to that question? Can you accept that you will never be gifted with an answer? Does that doubt then compound the confusion? Or does it simply cycle back and make the answer easier? Yes, in fact, it is your emptiness and you must own it. Can you own it without knowing?

Even if there was something to lose, once lost, can you ever trust in finding it again? Isn't it then again a circle back to you? How long can you live with this daily hunger clawing away inside of you? How long will you allow it to continue to feed on you? If it flows from you, can you not find a way to feed it that embues more health to your system? Some way of filling the emptiness that provides succor and brings vigor back.

Isn't it time to ask yourself all of these questions? And time to start finding answers within? Aren't you past coddling that emptiness, protecting it even?

I can hear you in the silence. Panting for breath. I can just barely make out your form, curled protectively, shoulders wrapped tightly to your knees with arms holding them to your chest - as if somehow this will keep anymore from leaking out and quell the hunger that grows the emptiness within.

It is time to start facing down that emptiness? Time to own it? Have you begun to suspect that the longer you question its origination the more control it takes from you? I think you already know the answer.

The question truly is... what are you going to do about it?

You Know Who You Are .....

Remembering the sheer joy of laughter in this crazed and mixed up world can sometimes be a difficult accomplishment. Unwinding yourself when you are all wound up inside over what life has put in your path can seem like an incredible task. Especially when you choose to work at this task alone.

I sat last night in a great place. Great music, beautiful scenery, incredible weather - and was all tucked into my little corner. And the person I was with told me - relatively point blank - to quit walking alone. I had plenty of people to walk with, all I had to do was let them walk with me. And I saw from the look in their eyes that they meant it. It was a real and valid statement.

So I guess the next time I really feel burdened by life all I have to do is reach out to those who actually do want to be there. To be sure there are those in our lives who do not want to participate in this way, who only want to share when we are laughing out loud. And there is a place for these people too. But we don't have to keep everyone in that little happy land.

I think I have learned that I am very lucky - if not overly bright at times. I have a very rich life, full of friends I can rely on. And this is deeply satisfying. Somehow that wound up feeling has lost a great deal of its grip from last night to the clear light of today.

I know if you are reading this - you know who you are. So thank you for reminding me how good it is to have good people around me.

And as the old song goes

Take care of those you call your own - and keep GOOD company.