segmented,
fermented,
demented.
entry in my beer tasting journal for Huss Brewing Co.’s Papago Orange Blossom, a delicious Arizona vanilla mandarin wheat ale
-all posts-
Of letting be
It’s not all about healing yourself — it’s just as importantly about letting yourself heal.
Westerly
sunset casts shadows
yet we see only colors
and glorious light
Blur
Aging is an exponential clock — ticking in runaway years.
Flow with life
You’ve got to keep moving to keep the beauty of life in perspective. If you hold still too long, things go blurry.
Confessions of a Worrier
“If any man or woman knows more about worrying than I do, that man or woman is sincerely to be pitied. To begin with, I come of honorable generations of worriers, all of whom seemed to be deeply sensible of their responsibility for the carrying on of a world which they did not create. My grandfather used to worry about the weather and crops. My mother worried with an elaboration and finish which really lent distinction to her performance. She could worry harder and longer on less provocation than anybody else I ever knew. When it became my turn to take up the burden of the universe I was quite as successful as she.
“As a child, I worried about the end of the world, and the Unpardonable Sin, which I knew I had committed, if I could only find out what it was. I worried my way through school and into college, where my course in worry was so complete that I came out with nervous prostration and two deep furrows between my eyebrows which I shall wear, like the scars of battle they really are, to my dying day. And then I worried about the furrows!
“I began to see the light through reading Menticulture by Horace Fletcher which put a vague old Buddhist doctrine into a modern, concrete formula — ‘Anger and worry are bad habits of the mind. They are not necessary ingredients.’ Worry not necessary! I had always supposed it was as much my business to worry as it was to breathe, and I looked upon people who did not worry as the shirks and cowards of creation, who were easy in their minds simply because they were criminally indifferent to their duties.”
—Mary Boardman Page, “The Confessions of a Worrier,” 1899, a little altered
Emanate
You don’t always have to pray for something, or to someone — you can just simply pray.
wørrier
You can never worry your way to enlightenment.
Aye aye, skipper!
When most people see an adult skipping they assume it must be on the way either to or from the asylum.
Stages
Spring is a lively swing towards summer
Summer is a hot salsa towards autumn
Autumn is an elegant ballet towards winter
Winter is a slow waltz towards spring
Lapse
At 2 pm, doves coo
an afternoon lullaby —
drowsy ticking
drowns out work —
the clock’s face
and leaden hands
fall napping into
the hour’s warm lap —
minutes nod off and
sleepy seconds snore
digesting noon away —
time teeters —
its breathing slows
weighed down by
heavy parts of day —
Heartwritten
Your prayer can be poetry, and poetry can be your prayer.
Iridescent
the years sprint, sail, drift, fly —
days melt into sleep
decades we no longer know
by taste or smell, yes
but hard fast memories tend not to keep —
youth lives on — yet, is long gone
birds chirp each spring anew
but our hearts sing the same shades
of childhood colors we once knew