Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘Thoughts’

Dusk


Dusk,

an ember of the sun.

Read Full Post »


I just finished watching “The Fault In Our Stars”, a great tearjerker about love, eulogies, etc.

It made me think of what I would say if I wrote my eulogy, and I realize that anything one says or writes, is a part of their eulogy.

I think part of my eulogy would be an apology. Because I can come across as hard and unyielding in the moment, when I know that my intentions are good. And that’s because of pride. Pride is such a defense mechanism, a flawed way of protecting yourself. It is a dis-ease, a dis-ability. It’s a way of hiding vulnerability in the moment. Of not being in the moment. Or perhaps of being someone you don’t want to be in that moment; when the moment is all we have, and that most important moment involves people.

Humility on the other hand, is being vulnerable in the moment, open to the moment and flexible in relation to all of its possibilities. That’s the funny thing about being vulnerable. I don’t know if it’s something that you can spontaneously feel in the moment once you have reached a certain level of awareness. It is only something that you can practice.

It’s like patience. I don’t consider myself a patient person though some other people may, I don’t know if patience will ever feel natural. I think it is something you can only practice. I only know that to date, I do not comprehend the feeling of patience. But with practice ( like choosing to wait in the longest grocery line) patience is becoming second nature. I don’t have to think about it. Perhaps when one reaches a certain level of awareness, anything/everything becomes second nature.

The point being that for me,

humility in the moment ,

is an intermittent short in the wiring.

Read Full Post »


Nanabozhu decided to visit Maui on the spur of the moment. What he didn’t know was that Maui decided to visit Red Lake at the same time. So they missed each other. Nonetheless, Nanabozhu had a great time on Maui’s island. This morning Nanabozhu decided to greet the sun at the top of Haleakala, and take the bike tour down. He thought it was kinda funny that the tour guides slept in the van because the mountain was covered in clouds and they knew that no one would see the sun that morning from the top of the mountain.

Nanabozhu decided to check out the gift shop since it was open  during the time the sun rose. He chanced upon a Hawaiian ranger chastising a white tourist who had (N. supposed) complained about not being able to see the sunrise. The ranger said in her best berating voice. “I’m Hawaiian, and we are taught from when we are very young to discern things with all six of our senses, not just our sight. Now if you’ll excuse me I have a duty to perform.” And with that she left.

You go girl!” Nanabozhu thought. The term “Haoli”, coming to mind.  Outsiders would always be Haoli to a native people. There would always be that sense of otherness between them. He had to smile at the irony. Here, Nanabozhu was haoli.

He then followed her outside to a crowd of about six hundred people who had gathered, and this is what he saw and said:

tour

Cold impenetrable fog whips their hair.

A crowd and Japanese tour couples stand huddled.

Their windbreakers occasionally wrapped in ineffectually thin blankets.

Waiting in vain for a visible sunrise.

Read Full Post »


Wings that can’t be seen

iridescent blues and greens

tiny hummingbird

 

 

Is it Anishinabe haiku

because an Anishinabe wrote it,

or is it Anishinabe haiku

because of the subject?

Read Full Post »


If we do not linger abed upon awakening,

and dwell upon our dreams,

we run the risk of not hearing/

not heeding their synopsis and interpretation

by their director and producer.

Read Full Post »


“I think maybe the owls are out tonight.”

“I don’t know. It could be morning doves.”

“After dark?”

Whatever it or they are, the sounds are muffled behind a closed window and the susurrus of the air conditioning.

The spirit being willing more than the flesh being lazy,  I roll out of bed–a distance of three feet, open the window and reveal the world; its chorus of frogs and the song of the  Barred Owl.

He has a distinctive call.

So I reply.

It is a moment before he responds. From hearing the sound of my Owl voice he is probably thinking that as an Owl, I am retarded, (Sorry folks, the politically correct words “developmentally disabled” just don’t convey the proper nuance in Owldom.) but deigns to answer me anyway.

“It’s good enough that he is answering you back,” Wifie says.

The three of us converse long enough–he and I in Owlish, and she to me in English–to drink in the strangeness of it all.

Until I stop.

When he doesn’t hear from me any more, he gives one last  Awwww! And goes away to look for other friends elsewhere.

Sometimes the difference between living an uneventful life and enjoying a singular experience can be as little as three feet.

Read Full Post »


image

There is something restful to be found in the even lighting before the sun rises;  before the stark shadows.

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »

%d bloggers like this: