Let's Fly

Today I set a butterfly free. No really, I did. As I made my way to work I noticed a yellow butterfly fluttering at the back window of my Beetle. (No puns intended.) It was hot in the car, so I thought to myself, "hold on little guy," and looked for a place to pull over. I made my way across the lanes of traffic and found a small country road to turn onto. Then I hopped out and opened the rear hatch. And I set the lovely butterfly free.

It was actually quite a spectacular start to my day. One small act of kindness can actually be quite invigorating. I really did not need any morning music to get into the swing of the day. All I needed was the image of that butterfly finding its freedom. I do hope that it has some homing instinct that will take it back to wherever it considers home to be. Or that it will find the fields I let it out in to be a great place to call home. At least there were some wild flowers there. In any event, it was a far better place for the butterfly than trapped in the heat of my backseat.

So today I set a butterfly free. I can't help but wonder if this bodes well for tomorrow. Somehow I have a feeling that it does.

To the butterfly in all of us............

Let's Fly.

Unleashed

There are days when it being confined to your own skin seems so incredibly limiting. How is it possible that we have such limited access to the world around us? These frail forms that fill such a small amount of space are all that we have to utilize in connecting to each other and to our world.

Sometimes this vessel just feels so inadequate to the task. My voice does not seem capable to carry the thoughts outward. My meager collection of words to slim to carry the substance. Even the fingers and eyes that blend the paints and move the brush do not seem capable to creating the visual message that transcends the language barrier and extend outward into the world beyond me. I would attempt to create music, but that is not a medium I have mastered.

I think sometimes of those minds that reduced language to digits and made it possible for the internet to exist. I wonder if this binary language is a method of reaching beyond our limited selves and if that is what sparked the imagination of these mathematical adventurers. Then I wonder how constrained they must feel by the conversion of their eloquence into our restrictive linquistics. But perhaps that was the point, just to find a way to move the language across the wire - but not to unlock the barrier of language itself. Is there really a way to free man from his existential box? I think perhaps not and that saddens me immensely.

Is it any wonder that I love idea of transcental meditation? To free oneself and extend outward with infinite access to the universe. In this the mind is free to intertwine and dance with all aspects of our wonderful and mysterious world. Free to be unlimited, un-bound - unleashed.

To Babel no more - fabulous.

Thriving

Running on empty, and yet somehow running full steam. I love how it is possible to do that, to be so close to just collapsing and then gather that extra bit of energy it takes to launch into the next project and have it lift you back up.

I never ceased to be amazed by how life seems to just feed on the energy you produce. The more you put in, the more it generates. I guess it really is true what they say about working out, it does boost your metabolism and give you extra energy. And it is not just the gym that does it for you. Working your mind can provide the extra lift, putting extra energy into your family, your friends, your hobbies - all of it. Everytime you push a bit more effort in it seems to pay-off with a thrust of additional energy available. Who needs food when you can generate this kind of automatic rush from just doing?

I am not trying to say that "down-time" is a bad idea (though I have to admit my idea of down-time usually has some activity built-in). But I do so enjoy the rush of living at full tilt. It just seems to make everyday more invigorating and enticing. And it definitely adds spice and flavor to life. I am lucky enough to have a bountiful, active life.

Life is for living - why do it asleep at the wheel?

Keep your swerve on

Did you every have the feeling that you somehow stumbled into the right answer? That in the chaos of your life you managed, miraculously, to save yourself from falling head long into a brick wall?

Of course, they key to this miracle is knowing as you sit there on the pavement (bruised bum and everything) that you never saw that wall there. In fact, if anyone had asked you would have gleefully told them the path ahead was definitely clear. Keep in mind that while you may have a sore bottom, your head is intact, if for know other reason than you tipped or swiveled and fell just short of the major impact. Your miracle, it appears, is knowing instinctually when to take the lesser hit, the scraped knee, over the major cranium shell-shock.

What I find most entertaining about these moments in life, is that most of the time people spend hours, days and even weeks crying over their bruises. It takes them so long to recognize the value of falling short of the wall, that when they do you can almost hear the crackle of the light-bulb snapping on and a full round of the Hallelujah chorus with orchestral accompaniment surrounding them. If it weren't such a seriosuly enlightening moment you probably would not take the time to glance over your shoulder to hide the smile that automatically forms.

Perhaps even more entertaining is when it happens to you. Of course the snap, crackle,and Hallelujah is replaced by a briefly beatific smile and then the "look". You know the one I mean. The "I can't believe I didn't see this coming look" also known as the "I really meant to dump this spaghetti in my lap" look. Yep, busted being stupid, again. In the karmic chaos of life it really isn't even close to a misdemeanor, but, I think we all tend to berate ourselves when we walk into those moments with our eyes wide shut.

Yet when the dust settles and the bruises lose their color we begin to see just how fortunate we truly are. Despite the stumble, we have emerged essentially intact and we have been given an opportunity to learn.

What was it about that moment in our lives that made it so easy for the wall to be transparent? And what was it within ourselves that put the brakes on in time to avoid the major collision? How can we learn to embrace the brusing instead of feeling awkward and clumsy? How can we merge these two components of who we are so that this particular wall is clear to us in our life travels going forward? These little lessons are not easy to learn, yet if we can find the answers within we can come a little closer to knowing who we really are and what we really need.

Moreover, as people, we can get comfortable with the idea that it is not the falling down that shapes us. It is in how we get up from those moments.

Celebrating that the wall was avoided is always a great start. But it is not the endgame.

So, while we have all heard the words, "All in all, its just another brick in the wall," ...here's to being able to see the bricks and know them for what they are.

Safe travels to all and remember to keep your swerve on.

Appreciation

Sometimes you meet people and it really helps you appreciate your own life. Today is one of those days. I had the good fortune to meet someone whose life as of late provided me with a very clear view or my own.

They have had such a tremendous amount of strife. The old phrase "if it weren't for bad luck, they'd have no luck at all" came to mind as I listened to them unveil their story. From a very sick child (and I mean very) to the collapse of a 20 year marriage, to the sudden realization that they did not know how to begin each day now that their life had changed so dramatically I could sense the level of frustration and loss that they lived with daily. And all I could think to tell them was that they would be fine. All I could say was that they had essentially overcome the biggest hurdles and the rest would unfold much easier than they could begin to imagine. It was just a matter of letting it happen.

I left wishing I had been able to give them more, some words of wisdom that would help them garner the strength for tomorrow. It did not really matter that I knew the strength was there already - just waiting to be drawn up from within. I believe they will be more than fine. But my belief and their own ability to feel triumphant are very far apart.

As I drove away it dawned on me that I am truly blessed. My family is healthy (knock on wood, praise the Lord and all other customs of protection to follow that phrase), and we face only the normal trials of living. We face the day to day struggle of discovering ourselves and finding a way to hold our course - being centered and comfortable in who we are and happy to be just that.

So I write this in appreciation to the friend I made today who so openly shared their story and gave me the renewed appreciation for the blessings in my life. Tonight when I raise my glass over dinner it will be in their honor, with the sincere hope that very soon they will feel the same way - Blessed.

Life as a Salesman - 24/7?

We live in a world where so many people are sales oriented. I suppose in a way I am too. I wonder sometimes what this does to us as people. What we do as we put ourselves out there. When does the selling stop and the living begin. So much of our corporate training is about "how" to connect to people. How to bring them in and make them feel comfortable so we can sell them on our product, idea or service.

If you happen to be one of those golden sales-people, are you capable of turning this off? Or does it become so much of who you are that you simply continue to sell all the time? And no, I don't mean sell your company's product or service. But continue to sell yourself, as that is so much a part of the sales culture.

When would you know the difference? How would you know when you had stopped working the "charm" and had settled into just being you? Or have you just become the consummate seller?

Would you ever wonder why everyone feels at ease in your presence (unless they feel competitive with you)? Would it ever chafe? I suppose I wonder this because I live in this high pressure world of service and sales. Where the time I know that I am closest to just being me, is when I am with family, my dearest friends or just simply alone. But I do wonder, as I meet new people, when does this sales mode slide off and when do the real people come out to play?

Or do they ever manage to? Have we become so entangled with our training and skill sets that it is no longer possible to let this go? With so many people working in precisely these types of jobs - does it ever make you wonder if you would be more certain of who you really are if you made your daily bread by - well - baking bread?(not selling it - just baking it)

If you could have any job that would allow you to be just you - clearly you - what would that be? Would you still be projecting an image of you to perform the job? Or would you be centered and easy to know?

Just wondering..........

In the eye of the storm

A late night storm can being with it the perfect calm. Or not. I guess it depends on where you are. Fortunately I was tucked up safe as were those I cared about (mostly). So as the sky flickered and the rains poured I enjoyed the majesty of the view and my glass of merlot. Actually I thing I had two, but during an exceptional storm, who actually counts these trivial things?

When the break came, I found myself wandering the sidewalks of my neighborhood. They were still warm from the heat of the day. It made for a really pleasurable sensory contrast to the slightly cool breeze that wafted through the night. The smell of the rain on the summer blooms was amazing. I thought to myself that it was odd that the street was so empty given how incredibly beautiful the night had become. I meandered for awhile just letting my mind drift with the breeze. A friend of mine would say it is not possible to think of nothing. Yet I can tell you that when I found my self in front of the school it came as a surprise. I had definitely wandered farther than I intended, especially as I knew the lapse in the rain was only temporary. Somewhere between the time I left the front door and noticed how lovely the night was and the time I found myself in front of the school, I did cease thinking. I just absorbed the night.

With this fabulous center of calm, I made my way back home. And lucky I did too, as the rain came crashing down as I found my driveway. Peeking through the garage door, I held on to those last few moments of my walk. Remembering only then that the tornado watch was on til one o'clock and it was just then moving toward midnight.

Perhaps that was the magic then. I walked in the eye of the storm. Or the eye of the storm held my mind's eye. Either way - what a fabulous night.

Illusive Day Dreams

Listening to old songs in my head - "when you close your eyes do you see.....Its not half as magic as it seems, but its so much fun to be there." Sometimes you just have to love Carly Simon - or not. Listening to the song that keeps rolling through my mind and thinking of the daydreams that just won't form today.

It is always much more fun when you can close your eyes and bring that little bit of magic into focus. Fun, even when you know that being there would not be half as magic as the dream. But it does kind of blow when you lose that place inside yourself where the daydreams are and the magic just seems to have dissapated (probably should check the spelling on that).

So when you close your eyes, what do you see? Do you see the magic of your dreams? Can you float seamlessly through the scene? Touch, taste and hear the wonders that it brings? Or are you grounded to the here and now? Are you left with just fragments of your capacity to dream? Standing on the cusp of that unreality that gives you a secret little smile.

I feel as if I am just a breath away from capturing that internal magic. If only I can exhale enough of this day, it just might be possible to breathe in the magic I have (pray temporarily)lost.

Then I can close my eyes and see what I will see. And while it may only be half as magic as it seems........it is always fun to be there. And that is the point of daydreams and imagination, isn't it?

Famine Tribute

While I am on this poetry jag, thought I would post another:

Lands Lost

The forest bleeds
Leaking chlorophyll like green syrup
Its creeks gorge with the bitter run-off
Long gone the Dryad's warmth
The Puckish protector of hidden glens
Lichens fail to cling to host
Crumbling waste adds no riches to the earth
Ebb the tide
Hunger and exhaustion
The feast turns back upon itself
No acorn lies to bring breath back
No spacious breadth in tomorrow's promise
The seeds have spoiled
Potatoes with spots
Where to immigrate whole tracts of land?
The sweet green flow of life drains
Tuatha de None

Pond Refractions and Language Reflections

As long as I am posting my poetry, thought I would try another.

Side Bar:

Language folds itself so well into this medium. I think of poetry somewhat like painting with oils instead of acrylics. Poetry allows the words to move together and blend in ways that otherwise are difficult if not impossible to achieve. While prose is rather more like acrylics, it sets up well but dries too fast to make the rich blends you find in poetry. Perhaps that is why poetry is put to music, while prose is not?

Pond Refractions

The shifting grains of my skin
scatter and break like water bugs
on the water in summer

A pebble abruptly thrust into their
seemingly simple lives

Ripples of undercurrents drag downward

I can see the roll of the pond as it laps
over my belt trying to melt my knees
The crushing weight bending
the five foot some odd inch frame

Cast forward upon this summer pond
reflections of clouds long drifted away
Fragmented dragons and broken knights
Windmills long tilted yet not conquered

Shifted inelegant future constructs

Patience may bring my hide into focus
like sand stripped from its shore
poured to an hourglass making its way
Grain after grain after ripple

A looking glass waiting to form

Passages

Winter has passed and summer has come with its full bodied heat and haze of mosquitos. Looking through a few bits and pieces of things I wrote during the frosty months, I found a piece of poetry that I thought I would share. Not entirely certain what all the fragments of meaning are - but I know I wrote it when the frost was hard on the ground and the chill kept the bugs from dancing in the air.

The Passage

Branches bend and twine
Grasping tendrils that lick each other’s tips
Holding fast as the cool night air flickers
through their outstretched limbs
Moonbeams dance, wavering and shifting
Creating patterns on the rock strewn path that yawns beneath

A maw of silence
Beckoning
Quick paws, equipped with razor sharp, hardened claws
flick small stones
As they race through this passage
An animal’s panting breath does little to break the heavy shroud of silence

Darkness engulfs the moment swallowing the tiny figure whole
The slice of life has played itself out: a fire withered
Its embers deceased
Left behind
A shrine of grasping, entwined leafless limbs
Alone in the cold night air

Well, I guess that could have been more uplifting - but at least it was a break from this heat.

Tea and Lillies

It is raining again today. A soft summer rain that is just managing to take the edge off the heat. As I go through the morning routine, I notice how bright the lillies look with their watery dressing. There they are in their slendor splendor, a riot of yellows, oranges and rosey-pinks, with a few deep purple blooms unfurled in the mix. This riot of color contrasted against the sea of green seems to shout rebelliously to the weather.

Nature's way of reminding me how wonderful the world is, even on the cloudiest of days. The cardamon in my tea smells delicious, lifted up as it is by a hint of vanilla. Between its warmth and the beauty outside my window I can feel my spirit expanding. I can sense it unfurling, much like the petals of these lillies I love so much, to greet the day.

These flowers came from Georgia. A gift of the heart. Culled by my mother and father and sent to me. Their yearly blooming brings me not just the joy of the flowers themselves, but also the gift of their presence. Just as this tea gives me the warmth of times spent with friends and family. I feel bouyed by the color and scent of the day and somehow know that this soft summer rain is just what I need.

Here in the quiet beginnings of the day I can sense all the wonder and beauty of the world. I can feel it beginning to thrum through me, a soft pulse. I am ever so much more than ready to step out into this day and absorb the feel of it, like silk on my skin - vibrant colored silk, flowing and swirling around me, carrying me along and enveloping this day in its bounty.

It makes me pause for a moment to reflect. It seems that this world of ours is made to be lived in. It is not made to be viewed from a distance or observed. The scents, sights and sounds, all of it are here to embue their elegance and vigor into our spirits; provide us the nutrients required to truly grow and thrive. How is it that so often we miss this connection? Is it any wonder that our daily lives can seem so fragmented when we disconnect from these roots?

Sipping my tea, I return to the vision of my garden and all that it represents. I will not be cutting a blossom to take with me. I do not need to. They are already a part of me and perhaps I am a part of them.

Just want to bang on the drums all day

Lovely day here in Cow Country, the weather is fine. Just hot enough to let you know sun-block is a good idea, but not scorching.

I am feeling rather boxed in. Work to the left of me, clients to the right and here I am - stuck in the office again. Casual Fridays just don't take the edge off. I have spent the morning returning all the calls I had - avoiding the great paper shuffle, but now there they are in all capital letters.

Here is a little known office secret, that pile of work will inch its way into the center of your desk when you try to ignore it. It will actually send love notes to you or hate mail when you procrastinate too long. It is a very stubborn stalker. At least that has been my experience. And the stack today has been particularly aggressive. Why just now I had to close out an instant message from one of the files demanding that I stop this obvious effort to avoid it and give it the attention it feels it deserves.

Yes - IT IS ALIVE - and coming to a desk near you. So if you value your time and your sanity, run to the nearest exit and take this day off. Take no Blackberry and no cell phone. If you do it will find you and drag you by the ear back to your desk. I know, because that is what got me into the office today in the first place. Responsibility is a "B*@%h" that won't leave you alone.

As I slap down another email summons, I wonder, how do I get out of this place? But then I answer that question almost immediately. I can leave when I want to. I just have to be willing to stop listening to the clarion calls of the work that is waiting. And that is my Catch 22 - I want it all. I want the clients to be well served, the work completed efficiently and accurately and I want my time out too.

Being a grown-up has a lot of advantages - perhaps today - this just isn't one of them?

"I don't want to work - just want to bang on the drums all day"

Living and loving it...........mostly :-)