I See You

I see you looking at me, in all of the detail that would send someone infinitely paranoid into oblivion.

I see you looking at me, trying to understand what is happening to you -- I see you looking for your answers by looking at me.

Those answers aren't here.  They are inside you.  Sit quietly; maybe you will understand.  Listen to the world that you love, not the pain that has been driving you.

This is a soft landing spot, where friends are welcomed with warmth, safety, food and drink.  We, us 5 here, would offer kindness to anyone who entered our midst.  We've helped you, and when you are ready, you will know.

We sit by the fire.  We enjoy each other...cats, dogs and a roaring fire on this chilly winter day.

We don't know you, but we see you.

We welcome life...as it is.

Haiku: 11.9.09

communication vanished

a vain attempt to heal old

scarred wounds hope lost

Going Toward (as in not running from)

Yeah, I'm told the thing to do is to make change when you are "going toward" something, not because you just want to get away from something.

...even when it's "Going Toward Quiet."

This beautiful mind needs a quiet mind. This beautiful mind is not quite yet healed enough to deal with the bizarre rigors of working with the co-dependent, needy or non-transparent; particularly when I've got a big job to do.   Or, maybe it's just that this beautiful mind can't work among those who are frozen in time; neither running away nor going toward.

As much as I am certain that this is the best approach, this "going toward," I'm not sure that it is, in fact, that it is substantially different than "running from."  It's a matter of perspective; a change-up of coordinate system.  At the same time, I recognize that if I go toward quiet, I may not actually be running from noise.

The difference is the endpoint:  Going Toward has responsibility for the goal...Running From is without direction, without responsibility, without an end-goal in mind.

So, maybe if I leave my job because I am going toward quiet and peace, I am held responsible for obtaining the quiet and peace.  If I leave because I am going toward a leadership position, it is my responsibility to get it.  If I leave because I am going toward my new business, then this new enterprise focused on community development thrives.

It isn't running from.  That's what Michael did.  It cost him his life.

That's not me: I AM of this life.

And I think I just wrote sections of my resignation letter...if I were to offer it today.  If I could define what I would be going toward.

Passing...2 years have passed

Two years and a handful of days have passed and I am in the middle of a two-week sabbatical from work.  For the first time in many years, this time actually feels my own.  The result of that is that the detail I see in my world is different than it has been; like a new experience with new details and new connections.  I am reconnecting with old friends; connecting with new friends...and enjoying life as it is.

Michael, it has been two years since we lost your presence, but we still carry your spirit in our hearts.  Although we miss you, we experiencing your gifts and your love continuing to care for us, connect us, and teach us.

I Wish

I wish I had the naivete to believe that wind turbines, solar panels or fuel cells could solve the problems of the world.

I wish I had the spirit to accept love without accessing risk.

I wish I was me...in a different place, different time, different life.

Perhaps I would look at this whole thing differently.

sharp

After a period of rest, food and love, I have found my tools...I found my rasp.

I sharpen my scythe...

For a new harvest; for a new life.

About the Children

One of my favorite topics of conversation is religion and philosophy. Understanding people with a different point of view than I have is very important for my continual growth and development of compassion. Often these topics come up in the most innocent places and take the most unexpected twists and turns.

A few days ago I had the pleasure of talking with someone who worked as a missionary with the Church of Latter Day Saints (you might also know this as the Mormon Church). We discussed proselytizing and evangelism; we discussed the many approaches of the religious sects that do so. We talked about the variety of interpretations of Christianity, of the word and of the variety of bibles that were testament of Christ. We talked about religion and ritual. I learned that Mormon belief is that those people who live a kind and compassionate life are welcomed to heaven; that they have a fairly progressive view of heaven and hell.

I shared some of my many conversations with neighborhood Jehovah's Witnesses that visited my home and the interesting conversations I've had with them (certainly not fruitful for them in gaining a new member, but always interesting). I related a story about the two women that visited me when I lived in Cleveland Heights and asked, "Do you ever wonder whether you will see your loved ones who have died again?" My response, a succinct, "No." I thought that was an interesting approach to a front-door evangelical discussion; one I had never heard. They were honestly surprised, perhaps stunned and this lead to a conversation about my world view.

The conversation with my missionary friend continued.

I shared with him a story about my dear friends, a couple who are "Bible-based" Christians; she Calvanist and he a little less conservative and the fact they do believe that only those who accept Christ as an adult would go to heaven. I described my disbelief, when she told me that, yes indeed, she believed I was going to hell and was pretty nonplussed about it. Given my understanding of hell, I would think it would really bother her. I shared about how tragic it was to think that when she lost a pregnancy at the 16th week, she birthed the girl baby, she and her husband named and buried her. And this baby, according to their faith would spend eternity in hell. So very tragic.

This is when my missionary friend said, "That is what those women who came to your house wanted to talk about. Their goal was to give people who believed that children, the mentally challenged, those of other religions...they don't necessarily go to hell. That people will meet again in heaven...that you don't have to live with the risk of such a tragedy."

I found that profoundly moving.

Home

Home is a place where I enjoy the solace of great quietude. The busy-ness of the day; the noise of confusion; the chaos of too many tasks to do within too little time melts into a love of food, of life of simplicity.

My home is a place of balance.

For this, I am grateful.

My World -- Souvenirs

"This was in the dryer. What is it?"

"Oh, that's a piece of rebar. It must have been in my pocket."

"From that site you visited last week?" "Yep." "Did you take it from the wall? That explains alot."

"Give that to me...And of course not."

First Week of July

Got my macbook, switched phone companies, hired a house painter, put my Cleveland house on the market, contacted my lawyer, had my car serviced, had my car vandalized, finished my front landscaping, read the paper, paid bills, received rent checks, paid two mortgages, started a new blog, worked on client development, toured a new school with very poorly done masonry, drove to Switzerland (of Ohio)...

I just need to wash the dogs.

Furlough

Here I am in the middle of a Monday afternoon with a dog at my feet and a cat at my side fixing a fresh pot of coffee -- contemplating having no schedule for the day, wondering what the new State budget will hold.

Contemplating.

Thinking about the politics of the job; of the day; of the economy and where I might best serve my community.

It's foggy, for sure.

Yeah, yeah, yeah...

Yeah, what's going on?

I don't know. I keep looking at it; I "get" it; I don't understand it.

I don't actually want anything from anyone except to be able to do a really good job providing resources for success, but I don't have the resources (time, primarily) to get the job done. A mediocre job is hardly an option.

"We understand the importance of your job to this agency; we just can't put any more resources to it."

Yeah, well...I'm only one person. I'm one person who is steal healing from significant life trauma...who is still blown away by surprise...

One last ditch effort? Maybe.

A call for help...a cry for assistance. A battle cry. Who's in? Who wants to make this go?

Here Comes the Flood

Nearly thirty years ago, this song struck at the hearts of the "dreamers" who tried to annihilate enemies through war; today I see it as a reflection on the "dreamers" who feel the need to acquire more at the expense of men, women and children; it is an anthem for those who view responsibility through their connectedness with others, with life, with the earth, and with whatever may be their god.

Drink up dreamers, you're running dry.

Good...

Good Food

Good Work

Good Friends

Good Love

Good Learning

Good Drink

Good Life

Discernment...Pull Line and Cut Bait

“Before enlightenment carry water and chop wood. After enlightenment, carry water and chop wood.” Wu Li

Back in the summer of 2006, it was gracefully suggested to me that my purpose between then and the spring of 2009 was developing discernment...this was the last piece of the puzzle that I would need to do my work. Yeah, there were a number of other things first, but in the end, I needed to be very mindful that discernment, for me, was the thing.

So, today, I ask myself...am I practicing discernment in my decisions? In my life choices? What is the foundation of this discernment?

In some ways I see the success; in others, I know that opportunities for practice abound.

Before discernment: observe -- know your heart -- decide; after discernment: observe -- know your heart -- decide.

Spring Yard

2009...my second post...still adjusting to this new life

I spent the weekend clearing the yard of winter's decay. It's my first early spring in this new house. I was surprised and pleased to find moist cool soil that was easily weeded, my two goldfish alive and swimming in my small pond, witch hazel blooming, daffodils peaking out of the ground...I am looking forward to the daily changes of this garden so filled with color and life.

I remember the house in Cleveland. My garden was planted in July 2006. Every morning with cups of coffee and every evening with a glasses of wine, we would survey the changes in the garden and always noticed something. For me, the excitement was in seeing how in just a few short hours there could be substantial change in the plants (I think of the mid-spring asparagus, sometimes growing 6 inches by the end of the day). For Michael, it was being with me, watching me being excited by the garden.

It seemed like such a big thing, this little tradition. I continue the coffee tour and the wine tour in this new space; in this new life.

I carry with me the past that brought me here. Some parts joyful; other parts melancholy. Yet I note: each morning I rise from bed and look deeply at myself and am amazed with life's changes and my energy to tackle the day; each evening I relax, heal and nurture myself for another day...every day growing a little bit; every day changing.

First Post -- Questions for the New Year

It's February 1st, and this is my first post of the 2009.

I was thinking about that this morning...I've been blogging since 2006, writing regularly, but sometimes I let it sit. It is that I have little to write; few insights to share. It is that I have urge to pen; no thoughts spinning around looking for a place to land.

So, today, as the the city thaws, the ice melts, and the snow slides off of my slate roof and crashes decidedly to the ground, I feel this fog of tentativeness lifting.

When I haven't anything to write, it is that I have no clarity, I have no attachment to what is now, I have too much work and not enough decompression. I have just enough energy to complete the tasks and hand and move on to the next.

And, I question that. I question the value in that. I look deep inside myself for my own remedy as this world is not going to wrap it up and leave it as a sparkling package on my front door. At least not obviously. As I move into this new year, I approach it with questions: Who am I? What do I value? How do I ensure I move in harmony and joy with this world?

The answers are only a few moments of quiet away.