being myself the best way I can

Archive for the month “March, 2012”

Who I am…

If I haven’t made it clear, let me try again…

I’m a God-haunted artist informed and fueled by a passionate pursuit of truth and hope.

I find beauty in surprising places and offer grace to as many people as my frailty allows.

I’ve been blessed and I’ve suffered. I am human and I will honor the humans around me.

I don’t have many answers but I’m aware of quite a few questions.

Life isn’t about getting rich or gaining power over others.

My longing is to offer love and life to all who will receive it.

Mystery is imminent for all those will seek it amidst the simplicity of life.

Those who are emminent are rarely trustworthy guides but may, at times, provide examples of how not to find peace.

I’m not always comfortable in my own skin but I’ve no other skin to wear so I’ll try to be myself as much as possible.

I’m on a journey.

I hope you are as well…


Paeans to the Blind

Although it’s dark beyond the shoreline
the waves’ voice still does shine
Crashin’ in the fog and rhymin’
Paeans to the blind

Siren song, it’s silky
Mist and salt so fine
Turnin’ from the easy answers
To wrestle me with mine

When’s the farthest distance?
Can I fly that high?
Where’s the how and who will answer?
When I ask of why?

Don’t mean to make it hard for you
But easy can’t be mine
Need to find a way to weave
Sense and the sublime

I get away with fancy words
Or so I have been told
I started talkin’ early
Won’t quit till I’m too old

Babble about trifles
To argue ain’t a crime
But questions don’t get answered
By voices with no mind

So I dream of castles
Where fountains flow with truth
And there the sages gather
At the info booth

Fill their minds with wonders
To ponder ‘til they’re blind
Listen to waves as they sing
Paeans to their kind

written on 3/26/2012

The Wind in March

The roar outside the walls of our home is rising in falling in pitch and intensity.

I hear the creakings and groanings of 60 year old beams as they try to accomodate the stress of recklessly being pushed northwest.

The vagrant rush of air due to changing pressure in the atmosphere might well make Mary Poppins think twice prior to opening her umbrella.

Though the air is clear and the sky is blue, the brute force of the wind is an unmistakeable assault on those who would soak in the warmth of the sun.

I wonder from whence it has come and ponder where it might go.  Who breathed this air yesterday and what fires will it fan tomorrow?

The wind gives me pause, and I wonder… Am I am a leaf in a breeze of spirit?  Is the holy ruach still trying to assist me to let go of the anchor.

I know the days will come when my heart will rise and demand to ride the wind.  The only question in my mind is what appearance that ride will take.

Given my penchant for adventure, windy days in a windy city often lead me to long for a zipline ride through a rain forest shouting, “wheeeeeeee” with all my adrenaline driven power.

Perhaps I’ll seek to harness the wind and fly a kite.  I could be master of the situation and seek to make my kite serve the whims of my mastery while riding the maelstrom of rushing air.

Yet again, I might try to ride a bicycle against the wind in order to test my mettle and prove my disdain for the forces of nature.  How far might I go..?  I wonder.

The choices may be mine, but the wind blows where it will.  Can I follow?  Will I?

Ask me tomorrow.

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