A slippery pathway, that leads to
a place, so few have seen, yet so
many know. A slip, a fall, the road
is rocky, lookout below. We find
our way from here to there, we aren't
sure how or why we have arrived.
Yet here we are and just in time.
The nick of the moment, that
close shaven line. Keeping our
balance when life is unkind. As
it will from time to time. The age
of wisdom keeps drifting away. We
think it comes for us, but really
it is the other way. No book to
guide us, no artificial stays.
We must discover, as if unknown,
the way forward, or back, or sideways,
who really knows? What is up
for one, is down for two, and yet
we all are walking on our shoes. The
same forces made us, yet different
we are. No one alike. Not the same.
Sometimes we stumble, sometimes
we glide. Each one of us has the
dance inside. Do the twist or turn
and shout. However you do it, do
it all about. Let love show it,
yourself is you, the one and only,
inside and about....ya! you betch u do!
Monday, November 30, 2009
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
The Guy Fell In: Do Over
When death comes to a house near you, it is always a shock. Even when it is expected, we still experience that feeling. It is so final. This person has died, there are no do overs. It is over. I wrote this story, The Guy Fell In, the other day. It was a story about the goings on of my town, and my life. In that story, I was the dispassionate observer. A witness to the rescue of a stranger and a participant in my own life. In the first story, a man was rescued. In this story he dies. In the first story I did not know him. In this story, I did. I am no longer a dispassionate observer. I am now saddened.
The man at the heart of this story has a name. It is Allen. He was pulled out of the Mill Creek Canal by fire/rescue workers. That is what we know. Word on the street is that he was beaten up and pushed into the canal. The canal is cement. It is about fifteen feet down. He was hospitalized and it is reported that he did not recall how he ended up in the canal. His head injuries were so severe that he was sent to a larger hospital in another city. Where, I read in the newspaper, he died. I cry now, for him, for his lost life. For the life of his family and his many friends in this town.
I think my point in the first story was about the interconnectivity of life. It still is. In fact it is even more profoundly so. I bear witness. That is what is changing me. I was there. In the moment it was experienced a certain way. I was affected enough to write about it the next day. The truth of the moment was really very different. When the actor becomes personally related to us we feel the sadness. That is why starving children around the world are still starving, because we are not relating to them. One shift in the narrative and what was once tolerable is now not. So I write again. Do over. The first story was the lie. This is the truth.
The worst part is that I was three blocks away when his fatal moment came. That is what is hard to wrap my head around. I was drinking coffee at Starbucks. Downtown Walla Walla is about six square blocks. The corner he was in was under bridge construction and the side of the street has no lighted businesses at night. So my moment has changed forever, as his was forever ended. That is the fact. Life is a gift. The regard that we have for the others can bring both happiness and pain. The open heart feels. The closed heart never heals. I am changed by my experience. Life is now more interconnected than ever to me. I feel my relationship with my community deepen. I continue to bring my life of joy to Walla Walla. Even through my tears.
The man at the heart of this story has a name. It is Allen. He was pulled out of the Mill Creek Canal by fire/rescue workers. That is what we know. Word on the street is that he was beaten up and pushed into the canal. The canal is cement. It is about fifteen feet down. He was hospitalized and it is reported that he did not recall how he ended up in the canal. His head injuries were so severe that he was sent to a larger hospital in another city. Where, I read in the newspaper, he died. I cry now, for him, for his lost life. For the life of his family and his many friends in this town.
I think my point in the first story was about the interconnectivity of life. It still is. In fact it is even more profoundly so. I bear witness. That is what is changing me. I was there. In the moment it was experienced a certain way. I was affected enough to write about it the next day. The truth of the moment was really very different. When the actor becomes personally related to us we feel the sadness. That is why starving children around the world are still starving, because we are not relating to them. One shift in the narrative and what was once tolerable is now not. So I write again. Do over. The first story was the lie. This is the truth.
The worst part is that I was three blocks away when his fatal moment came. That is what is hard to wrap my head around. I was drinking coffee at Starbucks. Downtown Walla Walla is about six square blocks. The corner he was in was under bridge construction and the side of the street has no lighted businesses at night. So my moment has changed forever, as his was forever ended. That is the fact. Life is a gift. The regard that we have for the others can bring both happiness and pain. The open heart feels. The closed heart never heals. I am changed by my experience. Life is now more interconnected than ever to me. I feel my relationship with my community deepen. I continue to bring my life of joy to Walla Walla. Even through my tears.
Friday, November 20, 2009
SNEAKING CANDY
She looked over, guiltily.
Yet she did not stop.
Snap. Crackle. Pop. Her
fingers in her mouth, a smile,
a nod, chewing on. She
had a hidden supply. Imagine
that, Halloween being a week
before. A stash indeed, freely
given. To all our children, far and
wide. There is a tide. A tide of
candy, the USA. Nobody knows it,
but Willy Wonka is our God.
Keep it coming, it can't be
stopped. The people will
riot, blood in the streets. Tires
would be blazing. War in our
nation, would not be absurd.
Give us our candy. Red, white,
and blue...purple, green, and
fuchsia too! World economies
collapse, but candy makers
can't keep up. Everybody wants
some. You want some too! Who
wouldn't? Pure glucose in my
veins. My inner most child in
heaven on earth. Men and
Women, we will not be denied.
They better get us our candy,
or there will be a fight.
Yet she did not stop.
Snap. Crackle. Pop. Her
fingers in her mouth, a smile,
a nod, chewing on. She
had a hidden supply. Imagine
that, Halloween being a week
before. A stash indeed, freely
given. To all our children, far and
wide. There is a tide. A tide of
candy, the USA. Nobody knows it,
but Willy Wonka is our God.
Keep it coming, it can't be
stopped. The people will
riot, blood in the streets. Tires
would be blazing. War in our
nation, would not be absurd.
Give us our candy. Red, white,
and blue...purple, green, and
fuchsia too! World economies
collapse, but candy makers
can't keep up. Everybody wants
some. You want some too! Who
wouldn't? Pure glucose in my
veins. My inner most child in
heaven on earth. Men and
Women, we will not be denied.
They better get us our candy,
or there will be a fight.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Christmas @ Starbuck's
Happy Tuesday, November 17, 2009. Welcome to the dream. It's here, finally, Christmas at Starbuck's, it comes every year. I have seen it. This year its understated. Thank you great Starbuck's overseers. But the Christmas music? Circa 1952? It is like being in a Macy's movie. Thankfully, I have this new fangled apple thingy. It plays music for my ears. In fact, I can even create music on my laptop, if I don't like the sound of Bing Crosby in November. Big angry beats, if I am really feeling frustrated. I digress. One artistic expression at a time, please.
The dream, that is what we are living here. The dream. I had this thought and low and behold the dream has unfolded. It is our dream. How we live in it is up to us. We, more than any outside agent, define our own reality. There are many examples of people who have persisted in the joyful pursuit of individuality, even after crushing events have occurred in their lives. Beyond that, however, is the truth of the dream. Bringing into our lives, that which we desire and that which we dwell upon is the manifestation of our dream state. Some call it karma or kismet. That indefinable substance of the universe.
People say, but I did not want this terrible thing! The psychoanalyst in me says, "Hmmm? Really?" Clearly, some people have genetic disadvantages. However, many "smart" people are depressed, anxious examples of the human life. A life we would not wish for. Many people are born into states of poverty. However, many wealthy people are depressed, anxious people as well. No amount of intelligence or money can bring us that manifest life. The one we seek. The one with the power to bring the joy to otherwise grey days. That is a skill, a practice, if you will. Each adversity becomes an opportunity. Kind of like snowboarding, each bump is another chance to practice your jump tricks. The borderline between the spiritual practice and the mental discipline of joy, is full of humanity. Examples of those who can, experiences of those who did. That is what we want. We need to see it.
So bring on Christmas at Starbuck's. I am not afraid. My dreams are incorporative. Seeking to promote space in my life for others and their dreams, has been the object of my growth curve. Finding that reality that I seek, has been the product of each day of my life. Each one brand new, another chance to bling up my space. Sending sparkles in the dark. Eyes that dance. Feet that move to some other beat. One that only they know. The possibilities are endless. I dream it to be this way. And it is. Dream it to be that way. And it will be. They're your dreams. Lift your sights. Expand your horizon. Dream it up. Focus on your heart beat. It feeds your dreams. Dream state reality, that is what we get. It's up to us to create the state that we want. So create. Start today.
The dream, that is what we are living here. The dream. I had this thought and low and behold the dream has unfolded. It is our dream. How we live in it is up to us. We, more than any outside agent, define our own reality. There are many examples of people who have persisted in the joyful pursuit of individuality, even after crushing events have occurred in their lives. Beyond that, however, is the truth of the dream. Bringing into our lives, that which we desire and that which we dwell upon is the manifestation of our dream state. Some call it karma or kismet. That indefinable substance of the universe.
People say, but I did not want this terrible thing! The psychoanalyst in me says, "Hmmm? Really?" Clearly, some people have genetic disadvantages. However, many "smart" people are depressed, anxious examples of the human life. A life we would not wish for. Many people are born into states of poverty. However, many wealthy people are depressed, anxious people as well. No amount of intelligence or money can bring us that manifest life. The one we seek. The one with the power to bring the joy to otherwise grey days. That is a skill, a practice, if you will. Each adversity becomes an opportunity. Kind of like snowboarding, each bump is another chance to practice your jump tricks. The borderline between the spiritual practice and the mental discipline of joy, is full of humanity. Examples of those who can, experiences of those who did. That is what we want. We need to see it.
So bring on Christmas at Starbuck's. I am not afraid. My dreams are incorporative. Seeking to promote space in my life for others and their dreams, has been the object of my growth curve. Finding that reality that I seek, has been the product of each day of my life. Each one brand new, another chance to bling up my space. Sending sparkles in the dark. Eyes that dance. Feet that move to some other beat. One that only they know. The possibilities are endless. I dream it to be this way. And it is. Dream it to be that way. And it will be. They're your dreams. Lift your sights. Expand your horizon. Dream it up. Focus on your heart beat. It feeds your dreams. Dream state reality, that is what we get. It's up to us to create the state that we want. So create. Start today.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
The Guy Fell In
"Strange things happen." So they say. In my life it's true. Too many to count. This is one more. Riding home, on my bike, last night. I rode out of the downtown area of Walla Walla, headed up through Whitman College. For those of you who do not live in Walla Walla, it is important to realize that Mill Creek runs right through the center of town, on an East to West line. Years ago, after too many floods, government came through, on behalf of the people, and built a cement canal to house the river. Good government. From the east end of town, to the west, Walla Walla is intersected by bridges, as many roads cross over Mill Creek. One of them has been under reconstruction recently, stimulus money I imagine.
Generally speaking, when I see flashing emergency lights, I do not stop to see what they might be doing. On this occasion I could not help myself. As I rode by the construction, I saw on the other side of the bridgework, a gaggle of fire and police cars. The ambulance was close to the fence that shut the area off. There was one police vehicle on my side of Mill Creek, next to the fence blocking this side. There were also three people standing next to the fence, on my side, watching what was happening. Like I said, I could not help myself. It was too curious, what was going on? I rode over to the people at the fence and asked, "What's happening?" "There is a guy down in there. He's drunk and he fell down in there and now he is too injured to get himself out," they told me.
The fire department had a ladder deployed down into the canalway. It was probably a good fifteen feet down in. We could see shadows on the cement walls, of the rescue workers working on him. The had a floodlight that was backlighting the scene. It was an interesting effect, with all the lights flashing from the emergency vehicles parked above. We could hear the guy moaning and the rescue guys talking to him. At this point in the construction, the entire road section of the bridge is gone. What was left were the cement pilings and the cement walls of the canal, which had several sections to it, at this point. Each section was divided by a cement wall. He was in the section farthest from our side of the street.
We were making the usual commentary on drunken ignorance. Those of us, who were safely perched on our observation post. Suddenly, the ladder was pulled down and then flipped back up. Somehow they had contrived to attach the rescue board to the tall end of the ladder and he was quickly removed by those on top and put into a waiting ambulance bed. They worked on him for a moment before they put him into the ambulance itself. I turned and asked the couple next to me. "Do you know how he was found? Who called it in?"
"We did." They said. "Where were you when you heard him?" "We were in our apartment." "Wow!" I said. "Amazing, you were inside your living room?" "Yep." "And you heard him hollering for help?" "Well, our walls are really thin," they said. "He is lucky you heard him." "We hear everything in there." Just then the officer, whose vehicle was parked on our side, began to climb out. The couple moved over to speak with him. As I got ready to ride out, I saw a good friend of mine and we left the scene together. It was interesting, this friend and I had recently had some tension between us and this was a good opportunity to bridge that gap. After we left we went to his place to catch up. I love Walla Walla. Life happens everywhere, I know. The intersections of life, those points when coincidence becomes the norm. That life happens here and is unique and interesting to me. I know that I am a lucky person and these little events go on in a way that keeps working for me. "Strange things happen." Indeed.
Generally speaking, when I see flashing emergency lights, I do not stop to see what they might be doing. On this occasion I could not help myself. As I rode by the construction, I saw on the other side of the bridgework, a gaggle of fire and police cars. The ambulance was close to the fence that shut the area off. There was one police vehicle on my side of Mill Creek, next to the fence blocking this side. There were also three people standing next to the fence, on my side, watching what was happening. Like I said, I could not help myself. It was too curious, what was going on? I rode over to the people at the fence and asked, "What's happening?" "There is a guy down in there. He's drunk and he fell down in there and now he is too injured to get himself out," they told me.
The fire department had a ladder deployed down into the canalway. It was probably a good fifteen feet down in. We could see shadows on the cement walls, of the rescue workers working on him. The had a floodlight that was backlighting the scene. It was an interesting effect, with all the lights flashing from the emergency vehicles parked above. We could hear the guy moaning and the rescue guys talking to him. At this point in the construction, the entire road section of the bridge is gone. What was left were the cement pilings and the cement walls of the canal, which had several sections to it, at this point. Each section was divided by a cement wall. He was in the section farthest from our side of the street.
We were making the usual commentary on drunken ignorance. Those of us, who were safely perched on our observation post. Suddenly, the ladder was pulled down and then flipped back up. Somehow they had contrived to attach the rescue board to the tall end of the ladder and he was quickly removed by those on top and put into a waiting ambulance bed. They worked on him for a moment before they put him into the ambulance itself. I turned and asked the couple next to me. "Do you know how he was found? Who called it in?"
"We did." They said. "Where were you when you heard him?" "We were in our apartment." "Wow!" I said. "Amazing, you were inside your living room?" "Yep." "And you heard him hollering for help?" "Well, our walls are really thin," they said. "He is lucky you heard him." "We hear everything in there." Just then the officer, whose vehicle was parked on our side, began to climb out. The couple moved over to speak with him. As I got ready to ride out, I saw a good friend of mine and we left the scene together. It was interesting, this friend and I had recently had some tension between us and this was a good opportunity to bridge that gap. After we left we went to his place to catch up. I love Walla Walla. Life happens everywhere, I know. The intersections of life, those points when coincidence becomes the norm. That life happens here and is unique and interesting to me. I know that I am a lucky person and these little events go on in a way that keeps working for me. "Strange things happen." Indeed.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Green America: A Walla Walla Halloween
True stories. That is the blog. So there I was this weekend. It was Saturday, Oct. 31, 2009. The farthest I had progressed on my costume was the green wig and the concept. Which, had finally gelled thursday before. Green America. That was the plan. That is the plan. Oh yeah, plus I had put it out there that I was into the mask. Big Halloween parties are super fun when you are undiscovered, so to speak. Still, the farthest I had gotten was some vague idea about fabric and the mask. Plus I had green shirts, green silk pants collected at Burning Man this year, and of course the green wig. The origin of the wig is somewhat lost in time to me. It has been floating in my stuff for several years. When my daughter was little, I used it to accompany her power puff girl as the colorful clown.
Over the years, Goodwill Walla Walla has come through for me, not just in fashionable reused clothes, but in Halloween extras and Burning Man costumes. That something that sets off your costume, what you need at the moment, you know, so it is just so. I have this inordinate faith in the local thrift stores for all my needs. So, I found myself at Goodwill, trying to figure out how to tie all the green pieces together. I looked for some mask options, of course, there was nothing. I did find a green choir gown to cap off the outfit, of course. Finally, after ghosting through the prominent sections, I saw a small group of people looking through a table. It was a bits and pieces table. That is where I found it, a green misshapen piece of fabric, with small blue paislies all over it. I didn't yet know how it would all work, but I knew it would.
It only took thirty minutes, Saturday afternoon. There were two big parties lined up that night. One, at an artist's studio with two friends, Dj Pending and Dj Danny Boy. Good friends, whose music choices are particularly fun to dance to. The other was at the property of another person I knew. Every year he has a barn party with live music and lots of people from the area show up and throw down. Inside the barn he has fire pits and hay bales to dance around and on. I showed up last year and had a great time. I planned on going to both. Danny Boy is new and it was his first vinyl set, so I told him I would be there for his set to support him, plus I really dig his sound. The party started at ten and he was the opener.
Still, the costume was not done and I had to get home and be there for my daughter. She and her best friend are both twelve. They had decided that they did want to go downtown for afternoon trick or treating. Initially, they had been too old. But as Halloween approached they grew younger. It was amazing. We had ushered in Halloween the night before, with a spooky sleep over with three other best friends. Complete with pumpkin carving contest and spooky flashlight tag in the park. This friend was the last girl standing so to speak. They got some goth, anime, vampire get up on and the downtown was on. Later, she left with her friend for a sleep over at her house and I continued on with my planning for Green America.
This started with a meditation on the couch and then passing out candy to a small number of kids who came to my house. Finally, I got all the pieces out and laid them on my bed. It was cool, when I folded the fabric a certain way it transformed into a sweet geometrical mask shape. I had to cut eye holes and sew the fabric together, after folding it. It worked. There it was. A stitch and a fold. A cut and a slice. A mask revealed. Green Wig, mask, and the robe, open over green shirt and pants. On the back of the robe, I sewed a small American flag. It was the perfect dance outfit. Which is also a requirement for any costume that I might inhabit. The wig gave my head that waggly boom bounce, effect. You know? When I got out there, I found that Green America rocks!
The dance party went off, with the dubstep dj danny boy and the electro/breaks dj pending just killing it. I love technology. We left the dance party, briefly, and went to the barn party. Drop in and drop out, that was the plan. In full mask, it was easy to just drop in and dance around the fire. No talking to anyone. If anyone asked I told them. It was funny, mostly they were blank. "Green America? I don't get it." I knew it was too subtle, but I figured it would give me the opportunity to put it out there. "Cool, huh. Green America. Get it?" Some do, some don't. At least the dance was on. We went back to the dj dance party and rocked on. I love my town, I love my life, I love to dance, I love the color green, I love america and I clearly love Halloween.
Over the years, Goodwill Walla Walla has come through for me, not just in fashionable reused clothes, but in Halloween extras and Burning Man costumes. That something that sets off your costume, what you need at the moment, you know, so it is just so. I have this inordinate faith in the local thrift stores for all my needs. So, I found myself at Goodwill, trying to figure out how to tie all the green pieces together. I looked for some mask options, of course, there was nothing. I did find a green choir gown to cap off the outfit, of course. Finally, after ghosting through the prominent sections, I saw a small group of people looking through a table. It was a bits and pieces table. That is where I found it, a green misshapen piece of fabric, with small blue paislies all over it. I didn't yet know how it would all work, but I knew it would.
It only took thirty minutes, Saturday afternoon. There were two big parties lined up that night. One, at an artist's studio with two friends, Dj Pending and Dj Danny Boy. Good friends, whose music choices are particularly fun to dance to. The other was at the property of another person I knew. Every year he has a barn party with live music and lots of people from the area show up and throw down. Inside the barn he has fire pits and hay bales to dance around and on. I showed up last year and had a great time. I planned on going to both. Danny Boy is new and it was his first vinyl set, so I told him I would be there for his set to support him, plus I really dig his sound. The party started at ten and he was the opener.
Still, the costume was not done and I had to get home and be there for my daughter. She and her best friend are both twelve. They had decided that they did want to go downtown for afternoon trick or treating. Initially, they had been too old. But as Halloween approached they grew younger. It was amazing. We had ushered in Halloween the night before, with a spooky sleep over with three other best friends. Complete with pumpkin carving contest and spooky flashlight tag in the park. This friend was the last girl standing so to speak. They got some goth, anime, vampire get up on and the downtown was on. Later, she left with her friend for a sleep over at her house and I continued on with my planning for Green America.
This started with a meditation on the couch and then passing out candy to a small number of kids who came to my house. Finally, I got all the pieces out and laid them on my bed. It was cool, when I folded the fabric a certain way it transformed into a sweet geometrical mask shape. I had to cut eye holes and sew the fabric together, after folding it. It worked. There it was. A stitch and a fold. A cut and a slice. A mask revealed. Green Wig, mask, and the robe, open over green shirt and pants. On the back of the robe, I sewed a small American flag. It was the perfect dance outfit. Which is also a requirement for any costume that I might inhabit. The wig gave my head that waggly boom bounce, effect. You know? When I got out there, I found that Green America rocks!
The dance party went off, with the dubstep dj danny boy and the electro/breaks dj pending just killing it. I love technology. We left the dance party, briefly, and went to the barn party. Drop in and drop out, that was the plan. In full mask, it was easy to just drop in and dance around the fire. No talking to anyone. If anyone asked I told them. It was funny, mostly they were blank. "Green America? I don't get it." I knew it was too subtle, but I figured it would give me the opportunity to put it out there. "Cool, huh. Green America. Get it?" Some do, some don't. At least the dance was on. We went back to the dj dance party and rocked on. I love my town, I love my life, I love to dance, I love the color green, I love america and I clearly love Halloween.
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