Signpost

I never thought that divorce would feel like a destination, something to be achieved. After eight or nine long years its finally done. The judge signed the papers.

I wish my former spouse a happy life. Her adventures are well begun as she follows her heart working in Europe. We raised a beautiful daughter who is off on her own married and thriving. We had beautiful homes. We had many good times. We grew and learned to honor our own truths. We struggled to reconcile our lives with who we were as individuals. We weren't right together.
Bon Voyage.

How do I feel reaching this point, this destination? Empty, the crying is done. Moving on has long since started. Kind of like getting older. It's just a date, a marker, a point in time that while legally meaningful is personally meaningless. Life goes on. Possibilities infinite.

Namaste.

If not now, when? If not me, who?

If not now, when? If not me, who? Blessings to us all. Prayers for the families of the children of Newtown.

Reasonable dialogue needs to start in this country about what we can do as responsible citizens to prevent gun violence. Our votes need to be utilized. It is insane that rather than address the issue head on, we are talking about "gun violence drills" and installing gun scanners in our schools.

This is not our children's responsibility to deal with, anymore than rape is a woman's responsibility to prevent. We need to talk about mental health, conflict resolution, gun registration, control and training.

Humans are capable of horrendous acts of murder and violence with a myriad of weapons. Current and past history bears this out. We are also capable of stellar and infinitely compassionate acts of love. We have a choice. Nothing has ever been created in this world that wasn’t first a thought, an idea, or an intuition. I choose to love.

We must love each other as brothers and sisters. The culture of fear's time has past. It is time to give peace a chance. Love is the answer.

Namaste.

Is no news, good news?

I am turning off the news more often than not these days. The only legitimate reason I find to read or look at whats happening in the world beyond my own backyard, is to determine who is in need of my prayers the most. What is up with that?

A beautiful place in Australia.

School taught me that an informed citizen was a responsible citizen. I can remember devouring newspapers and news magazines. Journalism was a fascinating subject to me and was practiced by many excellent organizations.

Today, I believe there are very few organizations that allow their writers to be journalists. We are being informed by a generation of writers who were not given the time or experiences to develop the skills to truly investigate a story. In a culture that often values speed over accuracy; profits over integrity; our writers rehash what they are told. Told by messengers who work on carefully crafting the message of their masters, governments, corporations or [fill in the organization of your choice].

We have devalued journalists so thoroughly that the organizations that used to develop and pay them are disappearing. Rapidly. Our Fourth Estate is dying a not so slow death.

Decision

Alone and quiet

Adrift in dreams

Find the courage

To act 

No logic or sense

Following the dream

Others will worry

Locked in rationality

Responsibility screams

Heart responds

Go now take flight

Follow me

Soul commands

Head resistant

Courage wins

Feet respond

Future there

No guarantee

Love demands

Honor me

Decision made

Others quake

Mind is lost

Soul afire

Fear arises

Ego's ally

Breath. breath

Heart calms

Stepping to

Future lightly

Mind at peace

Heart full

Truth Hurts

Pain real

Cause benign

Violent choice

Soul splintered

Cell silent

Inbox bereft

Choice owned

Left behind

Heart aches

Head pounds

Tummy tight

Tears flow

Truth hurts

Goodbye

Such a simple word. Almost ubiquitous in use. So precious, when you know what it means to never have the chance to say it to one you love.

My father died in an accident when I was young. No chance to say goodbye. I learned to say goodbye to friends and family with intent, with meaning. To never again regret not having taken the chance to acknowledge our parting and to tell them they are loved.

My grandmother died a year ago at the age of 95. My goodbyes to her for a few years prior, had been earnest, compelled by a feeling that she would be leaving soon.

The finality of a goodbye is temporal. Readily broken with a sweet Hello.

Parking Space

I cry in garages

I don't know why

I only know

I go there to cry

It has something to do

With being out of place

For crying unlawful

In some other space

It happened at Kentwood

A place I called home

Until I learned

How far they would roam

It happened in Dublin

A bizarre circumstance

To find myself stopped

With no more romance

I cry in garages

I don't know why

I simply find

I go there to cry

Locked Down

Lid on tight

No action in sight

Still the water's boiling

Glassy pond so still

Reflective and quiet

Still the water's teeming

Power in reserve

Strength quietly collecting

Still the water's turning

Turbines in motion

Energy is flowing

Dams face quiet still