I put my head down and started to drift off to sleep.
I really wanted to play with my yellow bug-eyed toy; the one that was right behind me, but I couldn’t muster a sufficient amount of energy to even turn around, let alone raise the full length and weight of my body from the comfortable pose into which I had snuggled.
I sighed, took a deep breath and relaxed fully into dreamland.
Maybe later I would get up and chase my yellow bug-eyed toy around the room.
Have you ever had one of those days when your body won’t listen to your mind?
It almost becomes a mind vs body battle.
I wonder why that happens. And who started the fire?
Until next time,
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I mulled over the concept of home as I stood near the tree line that separated my yard from the neighbor. I knew every inch of grass and every tree trunk. I loved it all.
I have lived a lot of places in my five years; everywhere from South Carolina to Oregon with a few stops in the Dakotas along the way. Oh, the excitement of discovering the new sights, sounds, and smells. From the aroma of seafood grilling in Charleston to the scent of breweries in scattered though out Eugene. I loved it all.
However, what I have found was that while I reveled in the excitement and adventure of new experiences, where everything was intoxicating and new, filled with limitless possibilities, I also liked the calm and comfort of home. The enjoyment of one didn’t have to preclude the enjoyment of the other. Nevertheless, home was a settling in. A familiar, though sometimes unexciting, pace of life.
Home was like the backyard. You’ve already peed on all the trees, but you were still excited to do it again the next time you went outside.
I’d always thought the best way to live was to enjoy places and spaces when you were away and when you returned open your arms wide and embrace the comfort of familiarity; for there was a longing of a home in all of us. A longing to belong.
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Have you ever felt the need to run away from the lens of a camera, off the page and into nature? Into a world that is not limited by parameters of human expectation? Where the sway of the grass tickles and the symphony of insects delights?
Until next time,
From my experience, I have found humans to be like no other.
Humans are amazing. They invented mathematics and language. They discovered electricity. They have conquered diseases, flight and technology. They’ve created beautiful works of arts through paintings, music, photos, film, architecture, and books.
Humans have traveled outside the earth’s atmosphere, for goodness sake. That, in and of itself, is incredible.
And humans discovered how to split the atom; the very core of existence.
Despite all these advancements, I have noticed that sometimes humans struggle with humanity. Some humans are directly cruel to others, callous and hateful. And some standby and allow the inhumanity. And this makes me sad. I wish cruelty didn’t have to be ‘written into the human script’ like Johnny Rich writes.
What would it be like, I wondered, if humans were a bit more like the dogs they love? To love unconditionally and with no judgement.
And then I wondered if humans themselves know, despite all that humans are, they are not all they could be. Imagine if they were to truly understand the depths the humans experience could obtain if humans embraced an existence without inhumanity.
Be well, do good deeds and keep in touch.
Photo courtesy of The Doggie Den
Every day the sun sets, sinking lower into the sky until it disappears, leaving darkness behind.
Sometimes I wonder if the sun is exhausted from its constant shine and can’t wait to drop into the horizon and call it a day.
Until the sun rises again,
You know how sometimes you see an image and then have an urge to play with words; to write them out and feel the sound, the pace, the pause? The rhythm and rhyme?
Today was that day for me. I saw this photo that was taken last summer and the memories of Colorado surfaced.
Below are my efforts to recapture the moment with wordplay.
‘lost in the superimposed budding leaves
on the Colorado trees,
mirrored without purpose
on the windowed and reflective surface;
tress stock still
a breeze eases the heat of the sun,
shadowed by the peaks of the Rocky Mountains;
wait, wonder, imagine
with adventurous abandon.’
Until next time,
Alas, it was one of those messy middle-of-the road kind of days. One of those days when it was necessary to remember that life can be beautiful even though it was not perfect; and neither should perfection be the standard to which we tried to obtain.
Some days were meant to be messy. Because life and love were messy. And sometimes painful. And sometimes magical.
Sometimes you shake it off and continue down the road and on with your day.
Until next time,
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One paw. And perfect balance.
I’ll let you in on a little philosophy of mine that keeps the flow of my days awash with zen.
I make sure the sun is behind me, the road is ahead of me and my eyes never waiver.
That way I am more likely to find the balance between everything I want to do with everything I can do.
One must not merely sit on a chair.
One must embrace the experience and then claim the family furniture as their own.