Never Too Late

Trinity--2

2008-04-20T17:30:00.000-04:00

Sight The bright sun shone its warm rays down upon me, bringing energy and nourishment to my soul.

The open expanses of sand around me recall space.

The ocean itself, lit by the morning sun, recall infinity, stretching past the horizon.

The waves crashing against the shore recall the power of the ocean, the energy that never wanes. Its motions are steadfast, ever-present. A mirror for my soul. A marker for me to emulate.

Sound
The roar of the waves is hypnotic, intoxicating. They drown out the sounds of man, but not the beating of my heart, nor the whispers of my soul. They speak to me as loudly as the ocean's waves, calling me, telling me...you are as great as what you see if front of you.

Feel
The coolness of the morning dissipates as I walk the boardwalk.

The other strollers there feel the same.

A lightness carries me along in the morning light. Invisible, yet present.

The broken shells on the sand tingle against the soles of my feet.

The warmth of the sand warmed my soul, and made me smile.

The coolness of the sand enlivens me.

The coolness of the water jolts my conscious.

The ocean, in its infinite wisdom, says, I have enough. Take from me. And nourish others.

I will.

Namaste.

The tao of driving--III

2008-06-04T19:54:00.003-04:00

A fool in the rain

Most people hate the rain. This corner is not among them.

I've camped, danced, played, kissed, ate in the rain.

And I've driven in it.

A couple of weeks ago, I encountered the worst commute I've had. Fog, rain, sloppy road, scared commuters: A mix asking for trouble.

Except...

I drove through this deluge and fog calm, steady, sure-footed. And slow. My goal was to get home in one piece. I slowed down just enough to give myself a cushion to react. In a way, stepping back and observe myself.

But there was something else. Everyone else on the road seemed to be moving in slow motion as I moved past them. As if they were scared of the rain. Why? It's as natural as breathing.

Just slow down.

Namaste

Path ways

2008-06-05T06:02:00.001-04:00

Good morning.

Where are you going today?

Namaste

Construction's over

2008-06-14T11:47:00.001-04:00

This blog now has a new address...

chehawstation.wordpress.com

Come over and sit for a spell...

Under construction

2008-06-14T11:19:00.000-04:00

Changes are a-coming to the blog later today...

Promise

2008-06-14T09:39:00.001-04:00

My job on this earth is to nurture, nourish and protect. If I ever
surpress anyone's humanity, may God help me.

I want to grow someone's humanity.

Namaste

Standard-bearer

2008-06-13T18:41:00.000-04:00

Rest in peace, Tim Russert. And thank you.

A great drummer

2008-06-13T09:52:00.000-04:00

I'm so happy that Brian Blade has another CD out. Perceptual was a fantastic piece of music, and I can't wait to hear this one.

The tao of driving--V

2008-06-13T06:28:00.002-04:00

Cruise control

As I schlep up the turnpike this morning, I'll use my cruise control to keep a constant speed and save a little gas.

I can't treat life that way. I am actively involved in it.

Namaste.

Positive power

2008-06-13T06:08:00.001-04:00

Positive focus, positive emotions. Namaste.

TFTDs

2008-06-13T06:00:00.003-04:00

Writing, I think, is not apart from living. Writing is a kind of double living. The writer experiences everything twice. Once in reality and once in that mirror which waits always before or behind.

Catherine Drinker Bowen

We can never fully know.
I simply believe that some part of the human Self or Soul
is not subject to the laws of space and time.

Carl Jung

From beneath me arises the energy of the Earth, my home and my foundation.
From above me pours down the light of the Sun and the enchanting Moon.
To my right hand flows the strength to control and direct, the power of magic.
To my left hand comes the skill to divine and to heal, the source of blessing.
unknown

(hat tip)

Mirror, mirror--2

2008-06-12T21:51:00.002-04:00

If water derives lucidity from stillness, how much more the faculties of the mind! The mind of the sage, being in repose, becomes the mirror of the universe, the speculum of all creation.

Chuang Tzu

I just finished shaving, and spent a long, long time peering into my eyes, my soul.

What did I find?

Happiness.

In what my soul has, what my soul receives, and what my soul is willing to and wants to give.

Which is itself.

There is a lot of nourishment, nurturing, growth willing to be given freely to the heart and soul of another.

I am always ready to pour it out.

Goodnight

Fulcrum

2008-06-12T21:08:00.001-04:00

What is one of the things that I want?

I want to rest gently on the earth.

Yet move it resolutely.

Is that possible?

;-)

What I see

2008-06-12T18:25:00.002-04:00

When I said earlier I think that someone special should write, I believe it. There are no projections, no tight grip. I simply see beautiful poetry in her.

You can't write well with a tight grip. Writing is a dance. The words in your heart call the tune, and you move with the rhythm.

Writing is life, and life is writing.

Tres simple.

2008-06-12T15:16:00.001-04:00

Peace reigns in me.

Peace is what I long to give to the heart.

Namaste

This is cool...

2008-06-12T14:09:00.001-04:00

There's a great website to help build your creative writing chops---oneword. The premise is simple. They give you a word, and you have 60 seconds to write about it. It forces you to not edit, but write.

Today's word is daisy. Look for chehaw's entry, which, frankly, is one of the better ones so far (Heather's is great.)

The power of the word

2008-06-12T12:38:00.001-04:00

For someone like me, it is a very strange habit to write in a diary. Not only that I have never written before, but it strikes me that later I, nor anyone else, will care for the outpouring of a thirteen year old schoolgirl.

Yes, Anne Frank, we care about your outpouring.

I am trying to encourage someone close to write. I truly believe that she possesses the heart, the soul, the vision of a poet. Her words to me have power, beauty and grace, and I believe the world should see them.

I write a little everyday. What truly stirs in my heart. Even if those words seem mundane and repetitive.

I write because I have the energy to do it. I write because this is the roadmap to my heart and soul. I have so much bubbling and stirring in me. My words may never carry the impact the words of Anne Frank had, and that's ok.

As long as my words breathe fresh air.

(hat tip)

Be prepared

2008-06-12T10:30:00.001-04:00

I'm an Eagle Scout, and I'm proud of these guys, too.

2008-06-12T05:57:00.000-04:00

First breath of the morning
Stirs the soul from slumber

Dreams of the night
Feed the dreams of the day

The dawn's early light
Caresses the soul

Bringing nourishment
To all it touches

More mountains

2008-06-11T21:57:00.001-04:00

I'm happy to be climbing the mountains I have climbed.

I'm happy to have more mountains to climb.

Namaste.

So...

2008-06-11T21:20:00.003-04:00

If I hate all the things below, what do I love?

Me. In all the best ways possible.

As T.O. says, I love me some me!

The world. Yeah, it kicks me it in the butt. But I kick back.

And...entities that are here, and not here...

Let's be clear...

2008-06-11T20:55:00.002-04:00

Yes, I can be reticent. Maybe a tad ego-centric.

But, God Almighty. I hate, hate articles like this.

I hate being sold short. I hate being put in a cubbyhole I don't belong in.

I hate being knee-capped like that.

I'm not scared of my wounds, or my faults, or my idiosyncrasies at all.

They, plus all my goodness ;-), make chehaw, chehaw.

No matter how boring or passionless he may seem. ;-)

Oh really, now...

2008-06-11T13:40:00.001-04:00

"Men don't start boring," Maeve Pollard believes, "they end up boring."

Really? Hmmm...

Amen to that

2008-06-11T13:36:00.001-04:00

Or, standing on the shoulders of giants

I was reading my hometown paper and on the front page was the story of a remarkable woman. It ended this way...

"God has been merciful to me." "I still feel like I'm 14!"

I hope when I turn 105, like she did on June 1, I still feel that way.

Even though I've 36, I have felt younger--a smarter 29 or 30 as it were. And with the changes in me over the the past 15 months, and with the journey my heart is going through now, I believe it will stay that way.

The woman in the story is remarkable, the soul of resilience. Her father was a slave. She couldn't go to school, instead being home-taught. Yet, she worked for the State Department in Washington for 11 years.

She overcame a lot. I have no excuses.

Thank you.

2008-06-11T06:08:00.001-04:00

There is a warmth enveloping my soul this morning, wrapping around me
like a cocoon. My wish this morning is to give that feeling, that
warmth, to the soul of a woman.

Namaste