a basin of hands

a basin of hands

Outstretched cupped hands of woman on white background
Outstretched cupped hands of woman on white background

why this popped into my head? I have no idea, the whim of the universe I suppose…
but go with me and maybe you will reveal something to yourself as I did, so… take your hands, turn them inwards, so your palms and wrists are facing towards your face, connect your pinky tips together and then bring your hands together in the middle seam (top to bottom) like they are sewn together, all the while keeping your palms up in your line of sight… and look, examine, the lines, all those inexplicable lines come together in some sort of crazy jigsaw map of YOU, not a perfect mirror but certainly remnants of that one cell that divided to become two…
is the natural state of our hands? a basin, a cup, a vessel, to remind us of the vessel from which we were brought from, I suppose I have noticed this before but for some reason missed the wonder, putting my hands side by side so the lines collide and become one – running outward to the coasts of the palms, a pause of earnest humble,
when two become one for the greater outcome or goal, this is not prayer with palms together, no, this is asking to receive, a willing flag of good surrender of one’s self to believe, to place faith in a higher fate, and for some reason, this pose, this slight of hands, makes me think of a fetus in the womb, our purest existence untainted and not stained by the outer world as yet, the womb may be the palms themselves cradling life, sheltering in a shell this ultimate gift, the most sacred Matryoska doll inside, do we actually realize we spent nearly a year inside someone else? such a strange and foreign thought that we were very much alive but not breathing as we have done every day since, a semi-aquatic being in world of such all encompassing warmth and yet all darkness but not the darkness of fear, but not absence of light – the light of life inside, an egg in a shell floating within an amazing protective harness, an incubation of our coming self forward, from a couple of cells to this moment, all those years ago and I have no memory – as if, as if I was meant to forget the start of the journey, perhaps like a lotus flower, I was meant to bloom, but archaeological human remnants remain, in this… a basin of hands… so I say thanks in my inner way and stare at my hands once again… with great wonder, I could never have built this alone.

the travails of joy and exuberance…

the travails of joy and exuberance…

beach woman sunrise silhouette
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before I got into my car this morning, for my lovely (read: awful) commute, I paused and thought how empty I feel at the moment, I shouldn’t of course, there is nothing wrong, I have breath, I am alive, things are better than average and much better than most, I wander to ponder on how to not feel such things, I begin to think of symbols that might renew hope in life, the opposite of despair, to live in joy with a dash of exuberance, so I think of symbols I might wear, like those crosses or stars, I wonder if those charms do the trick, if there is even a trick, surely we can not be full of joy and exuberance all of the time, but why not try, at least most of the time, there are far worse goals in life, I struggle to find the symbol I can adorn that will be a reminder when worn, “hey buddy, you are alive, life is good, smile”, or something more poetic and high minded but the refrain will remain the same in end meaning, sometimes I concentrate and imagine I can feel the world’s energy flowing into me, sort of like a reverse fountain of energy, like drawn out magnetic poles, I imagine it can replenish me or allow me to share in all that is good in the world, of course such meditation of thought only lasts for a bit, like all else so not permanent, and I wonder if I am stealing a bit of nature’s thunder like some sort of psychic vampire or something more sinister as I try to siphon the life force from the world, because intention is not always the answer and has consequences beyond, but then I come to consider the whole mind boggling size of the universe and I suppose my little request at the forever elixir is not to much to impose, as we all do at some point, but how will I ever know? I guess one day if there is a ledger, and my deeds are so written, I will have to measure up, seems daunting but who knows what that reality will require, if anything, until then I endeavor to find a wellspring, a source, a way to embrace and exude… joy and exuberance.

Your thoughts, comments, eyes and looks are all appreciated.  We are only here a short time, take a breath and always remember that… or at least try…

Simple Sunday Thoughts…

Simple Sunday Thoughts…

midsection of man holding hands over white background
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might I be the knife
to pierce that veil of night
walking through this daily life
lead others into that good light


photo of man standing on rock near seashore
Photo by Jacub Gomez on Pexels.com


is that you, in the next car?
or in another land
another shore
maybe just within my reach
or not near at all
but never far
from my thoughts
never far, my love

notes… sometimes I like simple, especially as I get older, I could get all weird and technical on you, or esoteric in my writing, but I am really enjoying the simple things more these days, be it the sun, the moon, the dance of a squirrel, there is the miracle of life all around us, I’m not saying be unaware of the dark corners of this world, just don’t forget the amazement around you in even the mundane, at least that is what I am trying to do and bring.  (I wrote these poems on 1/18, Friday)

Music tonight? thanks for asking…

Minus the Bear – My Time (live, sort of acoustic but amazing)

The Yoke of comfort… and that ain’t no yoke…

The Yoke of comfort… and that ain’t no yoke…

fried egg with seasonings
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I am perhaps worse than most, to actually like the confines of the yoke of comfort, much like egg yolk it is sunny, gooey and oh so comforting rolling like delicious lava all over the plate (and in that process infecting everything), but perhaps that plate needs to be swapped with a contemplate (or a quantum plate?), as I said I might be guiltier than most, the familiar is a familiar coat, every pocket worn, every corner turned,  it is so easy to slip into the easy cave and slip on your slippers and slumber into oblivion, but life is finite, as is our choices, common things just feel great, I imagine that is our evolution, our protection, but we must use that thing that raised us out of the norm (intellect) and overcome those barriers of Darwinism.

All this because I ordered some Korean fusion food today.  I saw an article online and a place was within a couple miles of my office.  I have had tons of Korean food before (hello, Ft Lee is a few towns over) but I fell for comfort the world over.  So maybe I won’t like a lunch one day, better to break the yoke/yolk and say…. I tried something different today.

Sometimes roads lead somewhere else, somewhere unexpected, GPS is not a human trait, and that, is a good thing.

and not to be droll but comments and thoughts are always appreciated, thanks!

Revolution! (not resolutions)…

Revolution! (not resolutions)…

art backlit dark dawn
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Of course the ole tradition of making resolutions… much older than you might think in a blink, the early traces are back to Babylon (more of a right of honoring the harvest) but our tradition is most likely traced back to Janus (a two faced god… well, in a good way) whom could look back at the past year and into the new one (and sacrifices were made hence to ensure the year to come).  But resolutions… like the breath of wind upon the prairie, gone in nary a second as the dreamy bubble of the holiday expires and we climb back into our normal star ship of life (and blast off forgetting).  So, dispatch with resolutions.  If you want something done in your life commit to a revolution.  That is a plan of action in the place of words.  The latin is “revolutio” quite literally meaning a turn around and if that is what you seek – seek revolution!  If your tool is resolutions they will wind up as bits of fast food wrappers on the side of the highway of life in a few moments by.  Revolution takes effort, planning, put through and then… more effort. Revolutions are never won and done, they are messy, they are looked back upon with gilded guides but in the moment – nothing glorified as such – but the end result is what matters most.

You want to make a change? Commit to a revolution in the scope of the next revolution of our planet around the sun, that new year, from this then old one.  Not so far now we will already have come, the countdown begun has the first shot rung?

find beauty, everywhere.

find beauty, everywhere.

beautiful blooming blossom bright
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

find beauty wherever you may go…(take a look)


in a flowerpot
admire all the beauty
even in the dirt

(OK, I went the haiku way which I usually don’t but when it writes itself, what am I to do ?)

there is nothing new about this year, it is another day, another chance, the ritual has value (renewal if you hold it true), but time, time, the actual thing “time” could care less if you are in summer bliss or winter hiding, remember this.  Take a breath, really, take a moment and (STOP) look at the most mundane of things and see the miracles residing there.  All the things that conspired in the course of history just for you to read these words (and me to write them) is an amazingly insane concoction… is it all just random?  maybe. maybe not.  I do not propose to know what creates these things but they are there if you look, it may be all science, and that is fine by me, either way the amazing exists right under our noses, our everyday snouts, if we care to look.

from the porch (xmas edition)…

from the porch (xmas edition)…

two white and red admission tickets
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from the porch (continued series, tonight, is of course, some xmas holiday or something, I am told…), and without further fanfare, popcorn commercials or coming attractions (or an oddly sticky floor and just awful cup holders)…

festival decoration christmas santa claus
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Mustering up the muster to sit and write, on a xmas night, none the less, not a very xmas feel, at least in these parts (and I am not referring to my legs), cold enough but not quite cold enough, somewhat clear sky, not quite a full moon, everything seems just a bit less than it should, I guess the bloom comes off the rose at times, there have been those Rockwell scenes, the fire blaze, the cozy afghan blanket, gently falling snow where you could read the stories on the flakes themselves as they fell, no, not this year, and no saint nick, no jolly old fellow, just a myth, but not such a bad imagining, not such a bad thing, in a world sometimes grim, marred by pain, a jolly old fat man to bring presents mysteriously in the night, there are worse things to believe in, surely, no reindeer, not certainly in this metro shadow, we see the odd deer (or four), mere cousins of the north pole dweller reign, and no little laborers either (with their busy little hands), the only ones here are garden gnomes and they feel less genuine than their brothers (especially when said gnomes are busy trying to book me flights all the time), where is the harm in old saint nick? has he been reduced to an app just yet ? (I’m afraid to even google that to find out the answer) well, at least Norad stays in step with the season, tracking the sled even if just an exercise for Joshua, where is the harm in this quite affable fellow? maybe we should just tell the kids the truth, the truth that it is not the myth that needs belief, it is what lies underneath in the fabric of the thing, no, not the felt red sack or silly hat, or even the contemplation of a stranger sliding down a chimney (surely worse than a coal miner’s dime), what drives the sled? good tidings for the ride, the idea of giving with nothing in return (well, perhaps a tray of cookies in trade, fair enough), the idea, not the man, and children can know throughout the land that morning comes and gifts exchanged, they have the power within… to do the same.

be well everyone. and to all of you a good night.

(re-post if you like just link back, alright?) all eyes on this or anything I write are truly appreciated, thank you (yes you, that reader thing out there)

music? OK, I will be guitar nerdy and holiday-ey. (a new word damnit)

Steve Morse – Joy to the World