HOW DO WE WANT TO FLOAT?

 

From the moment we are born we begin our journey down the river of time…it’s the same river everyone travels…it’s where all our journey’s blend…however…we don’t control how long we’ll be on the river…or when our journey ends.

We are floating solo…on the river of time there is no boat…

what determines the type of journey we will have is how we choose to float

If we float with love in our hearts…with kindness, compassion and honesty…with our hearts unburdened we are light up on the water and we float more effortlessly.

We float more peacefully this way…how smoothly across the water we glide…we lay back, allowing the current to take us…and there’s a good chance…we enjoy the ride.

If we float with anger, hatred and resentment…this burdens our heart…acting like weights…pulling us down…and as we float across the water…there’s a good chance we might drown.

Our floating is more labored…more painful….our discomfort we can’t hide…we work to keep our heads above the water and it’s so much harder to enjoy the ride.

Knowing our journey on the river of time will one day come to an end…as it does for everyone…there is a question we must ask ourselves before our journey’s done…

Since our ride will not last forever…since one day our time on the river will cease…

would we rather float in pain…

or do we prefer to float in peace.

LISTEN TO THE SIRENS

 

When we hear the siren and see an ambulance we pull over and for a silent moment…we pray…for the people inside that ambiance….until the siren fades away.

Chances are we don’t know the person hurt or the people helping on that particular day…and our world is only interrupted for a moment…until the siren fades away.

In that moment we wonder what might have happened to throw their world into disarray…but our mind quickly wanders to other things…once the siren fades away.

Of course, this is human nature…our concern is momentary…we stop and say a prayer…then expect the people who know and love them take up our concern from there.

But whenever I hear a siren now…as I look out on the world today,.,.,

I wonder if our feelings of compassion and empathy…like the sirens…are slowly fading away.

Could it be in a world that is so divided where we can’t agree on basic things we know…in the midst of all our fighting….that our empathy and compassion are the first signs civility to go?

And when our compassion and empathy die…we reach a point..in fact we’re standing on its precipice now…I fear

Where our eyes no longer see the truth…and our ears no longer hear.

A point where we’re thinking only of ourselves…while all others we ignore?  A point where the sirens around us are blaring…but we can’t hear them anymore

I’m afraid if we can’t bring compassion and empathy back into our lives…

if we cannot find a way…

if we don’t listen to the sirens now…

it will be us who fade away.

TIME FLIES

 Yesterday we took a little road trip…to Lakeland, Florida we roamed 

to help our eldest grandson, his girlfriend and their dog move in to their new home

Two quick notes about time…two facts we can’t deny….

how sometimes it moves quite slowly…while other time…it flies.

I remember when he was born…the first day he was alive…

I remember it as if it was yesterday…next month he’ll turn 25.

I remember when he was a small child…I remember the smiles we would share…when I lifted him up with one hand and held him high up in the air.

He’s now too old and too big for me to lift him high above my head…

so from his truck into his house…I lifted his boxes instead.

When I lifted that first box I immediately became aware

of that first time 24 years ago…when I lifted him up into the air.

Another note about time is it’s unusual friendship with our mind

how, though time only looks forward…she allows us to look behind.

Which is why I could see my 24 year old grandson…

in his new house…

with his girlfriend 

with his dog

see my 24 year old grandson…

right before me…

standing there….

at the same time I saw him as a two year old 

sharing a smile with me

as I lifted him 

with one hand

and held him up in the air.

I NEVER WALK ALONE

 

Long ago when I began my morning walks I thought I was out there on my own…but, over the years, I’ve come to realize…I never walk alone.

There are the animals; the owls, the birds the cats and rabbits that occasionally accompany me…and I’ve had many a conversation with the stars, the clouds….the trees.

As I walk I’ve blessed with people who appear and disappear…people I have loved…still love…even though they’re no longer here.

They emerge from out of my memory…they show up next to me while I’m walking…most of the time they just smile and listen…while I do all the talking.

There’s my mom and dad, who’ve long since passed but periodically walk with me…there’s Deborah’s mom and dad who I’m always happy to see.

I’m not crazy (at least I hope not) I know they’re not really here but their presence I can feel, I can see…like this morning when Chrissy, our daughter’s friend from high school, came out to walk with me.

I don’t know how to explain it but the feeling of Chrissy was strong…and like all my morning walking buddies…she brought a host of memories along.

As I walked I remembered moments…with Chrissy as my guide…I imagine she wanted me to remember more of how she lived…and not the tragic way she died.

She left me, as they all do, as quickly as she came…without a trace…and I continued on my walk with a smile on my face.

Glad to share a moment with a person I have known…glad to know in the early morning…I’ll never walk alone.

WHY WE REMEMBER

 

Today is a day we must always commemorate…a day we remember the Holocaust…a tragic time in world history when 6 million Jewish lives were lost.

We think of the horrors they endured…if we listen we can still hear their screams…and we think of the millions of other lives lost to the brutality of the Nazi regime.

Why is it we must remember a time so horrible…a time filled with sorrow and regret?  Why is it we teach about a time in the world many people would like to forget?

We remember and we teach about the Holocaust…remembering the who, what, how where and when…with the hope that by teaching the horrors…they will never happen again!

It seems fitting that this anniversary should fall today…at this exact time …on this exact date…when some people are trying to ignore the atrocities that occurred in our own country’s history and teach only what they think makes us look great.

Willing to ignore instead of learn from our country’s treatment of the Native Americans, Blacks, Japanese, LGTBQ+…anyone who thinks and acts differently…

willing to ignore what actually happened….in an attempt to rewrite our history

When I think of today and what some people are attempting to do…I am shocked…I’m ashamed…I’m appalled and my mind bounces between the words of James Baldwin and Simon Wiesenthal…

Simon Wiesenthal…a Holocaust survivor wrote: 

For evil to flourish it only requires that good people do nothing….

and as I watch some of our past atrocities being forgotten or erased 

I remember James Baldwin who said:  

Not everything that is faced can be changed 

but nothing can be changed until it is faced..

America has never been a great country…if you really look back at our history….

But by exploring and discussing our good deeds…and bad…

I imagine, one day, we could be.

Until then there will be citizens of this country…who will never fulfill their dreams….

who will continue to be mistreated and abused…

who will continue to suffer…and scream.

THE HOURGLASS

 

The moment we are born…that precious moment when we wake…the hands of Fate take the hourglass filled with the sands of our life and give it a little shake.

And as we take our first breath…in a move time-tested and deft…Fate turns our hourglass over…revealing the amount of sand we have left.

Fate is the only one who knows the amount of sand our hourglass contains…We never get to see it…never have a chance to count how many grains remain…

Fate is the only one who knows how large our hourglass is…how wide…how far-reaching…how tall…Fate is the only one who knows if we are meant to live a long life…or if our hourglass is small.

I imagine our creators hoped, by not telling us the size of our hourglass, we would come to understand…how this life we’re given is to be cherished and not to waste one grain of sand.

I imagine they had hoped we would discover the key to what life is all about….

to live a peaceful, 

kind 

and loving life…

until our sand runs out.

GRANDPA'S SMILE

 

I imagine there are many things about my grandpa I have forgotten once he passed and my life continued on its way…but the memory of his smile, I know, will never fade away.

His smile wasn’t something you could miss…it was out there for everyone to see…I noticed it when he was looking at Grandma…and sometimes when he looked at me.

One day, when I was still young enough to sit upon his knee, I asked him, “Grandpa, what is it that makes you smile when you look at Grandma…and sometimes when you look at me?”

And there it was…Grandpa’s smile…as he hugged me tenderly…”Because,” he said, “when I look at Grandma and when I look at you…I’m smiling at all the other things I see.”

“When I look at your grandma I see the day I fell in love…or our first kiss…and I think… how lucky can I be that she said yes when I asked her to share her life with me.”

“I see moments we have spent together…I see her compassion…I see the beauty of her heart……I see the gentleness of her soul…to me she’s a work of art.”

“You see every time my eyes fall on your grandma they linger there a while…and, as a treasure trove of memories open before my eyes…I cannot help but smile.”

“And when I see you…I see the first time I held you in my arms…how I thought I’ll never let you fall…and I remember wondering how I could be filled with so much love…for someone so very small.”

“When I look at you…or your grandma…I see more than you and Grandma…I see memories…I see moments…and I rejoice…You ask me why I smile every time I see you…it’s simple…I really have no choice.”

I hope they’ll come a day when my grandchildren ask me the same question I asked my Grandpa…I imagine I’ll close my eyes and rejoice in his memories for a while…and when I open them I’ll happily tell them the reason…so many Grandpas smile.

WHEN WE'RE HOLDING HANDS

 

One of the first ways we feel love flow into us from another person is in a gesture simple but grand…it’s when we reach out as a baby and hold a parent’s hand.

Okay…chances are we only grabbed one finger…after all…they had humongous adult hands while our baby hands were small.

But we both felt it at that moment…felt the love between us linger as they held onto our hand and we…onto their finger.

And as we grew…so did our hands…and we came to understand how safe, secure and happy we felt when we held a loved one’s hands.

It looks as if holding hands is a simple act…nothing too extreme…but along the road of life we realize holding hands…is not as simple as it seems.

We learn in the simple act of holding hands all the things we silently say…how when two hands come together there is so much we convey.

Holding hands is sharing friendship, kindness, love, trust and security…it’s a way to multiply our joy, divide our sorrow…to show compassion and sympathy.

I imagine that’s why as death is imminent…through the tears we cry…

we want to hold hands one more time with our loved one…before we say goodbye.

Wouldn’t it be amazing if the whole world came to understand…

the key to peace and love and kindness…

can be found in simply holding hands.

RISE UP

I have ben fortunate…privileged…given advantages…others may never see…which means rising up each day has always been easy for me. 

For most of my life I have known that people are exploited…oppressed but have chosen not to see …and when I’ve risen in the morning…I have risen mostly for me.

But my eyes are open now and I’m appalled at what I see…so no longer in the morning shall I ruse up just for me.

I’m not sure, yet, exactly what that entails but I vow as each new day begins I shall rise up for anyone no matter who they are…or the color of your skin.

I shall rise up for anyone deemed imperfect…who may seem a little odd…for anyone who doesn’t look like me…or prays to a different God.

I shall rise up for those who do not think like me…who are not of my same mind…as long as they are accepting and gentle…as long as they are kind.

I shall rise up for the Earth and for her animals…every creature large and small…I shall rise up and try to make this world more compassionate…and a safer place for all.

Since rising up has been easy for me…I shall rise for people of any color, gender, shape or size…anyone who has been oppressed…and encourage them to rise.

Because when I rise up for injustice…and you rise up…and you and you and you…eventually…it is inevitable…the whole world rises too.

So to those, like me, who have had it easy..it’s time we open our eyes….

and look at the heights we will be able to reach…when together…we all rise

 

HERE COMES THE SUN (CUBED)

 Yesterday morning we gave ourselves a surprise and took a walk along the beach hoping to catch the sun as it began to rise.

The beach was deserted…birds were out hunting breakfast…dolphins out having fun when we sat on an old bench by the water and waited for the sun.

As the first rays peeked over the horizon…announcing to the morning the night was done….I took out my phone and through the wonder of modern technology played the Beatles…Here Comes The Sun 

There is no way we could have predicted what would happen next…but as we walked off the beach…on our phones…our daughter sent a text.

She has started listening to music for inspiration each morning…a kind of a musical way to pray…and wanted us to listen to the song she chose that day.

Of all the songs in all the world…yesterday…her chosen one….

Was a song by the Beatles…you guessed it…Here Comes The Sun

What are the odds, we thought, as this particular morning went along…that we would all be listening…at the same time…to the same song!

Later that morning we decided to head to our Farmers market…where the two of us were stunned to find in one of the booths a sign made out of license plates that read…Here Comes The Sun.

We told the artist our story about the beach…our daughter and that song…

His eyes widened as he told us initially he wasn’t going to bring that sign along.

It was only at the last minute he said, as to the market he was about to depart…that he decided, on a whim to bring that particular piece of art.

We were amazed…the artist was happy…and our daughter was enthralled because Here Comes The Sun can now be found hanging on her bedroom wall.

A reminder of how things can happen in our life for reasons we may never ascertain…

Moments of serendipity.. wonderful moments…unexplained.

Perhaps all we can do is revel in the fact the Universe chose us at that moment…and when our serendipity is done….sit back…smile and thank the Universe for our moment in the sun.

NOT AN EXPERT

 

I finished high school and graduated college…I read books both large and small…but I am not an expert on anything at all.

Not being an expert on parenting although three children I helped raise means all throughout their childhood I was constantly amazed.

Not knowing what to do as a parent…never knowing exactly what it takes…means every day is an adventure and we’re free to learn from our mistakes.

I am not an expert botanist…when it comes to botany…I haven’t got a clue…in a world that’s filled with flowers and trees…I can only name a few.

But not understanding everything about them…or how they came to be…means I am free to enjoy their wonder…the pure beauty that I see.

I am not an expert astronomer although among the stars I’ve dwelt…I can point out a few planets…and find Orion’s belt.

But not knowing everything about how the universe works means I’m constantly surprised…and why when I look up on a cloudless night I still get stardust in my eyes.

I think you get the picture…I am not an expert on anything…of this there is no doubt…

But I, for one, am glad there isn’t anything I know everything about.

Because that means my life is filled with surprises every night and more surprises every day…and speaking as a non-expert…

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

A MULTITUDE OF MEMORIES

I love that we are blessed with memories…how each and every one of us…all of humankind…has this wonderful ability to store images in our minds.

It’s one of the miracles of creation in a world moving ever forward…so fast we often lose track…how we were created…while moving forward…with the ability to look back.

To choose from a myriad of memories…different people, different times and different places…moments that, when remembered…put a smile on our faces.

Sometimes I wonder if our creators, anticipating in our life there would be good times as well as bad…didn’t gift us with the ability to remember…for those times when we are sad.

For those times when we are grief stricken….lonely…feeling totally on our own…where we can look into our memories and know we’ve never been alone.

Certainly sadness, grief and sorrow are feeling we should not hide…but memory, at least for a moment, helps to push our grief aside.

Allowing us through our tears and sadness…to remember at least for a little while…when we have forgotten….what it feels like to smile.

Yes, how lucky are we to possess within us such a treasure as a heart that has been clad…with a multitude of memories we can turn to when we’re sad.

 

JOY AND SORROW

Is it possible for joy and sorrow to share the same space…

together…in the here and now…

My answer use to be maybe…but, for the life of me, I couldn’t see how 

I thought of Joy and sorrow as polar opposites…each one in their own way distinct…but now I know there are times in our life when the two are inextricably linked.

A mother’s joy at the birth of her baby…joy felt from the very start…followed by the sorrow of knowing her baby won’t survive without a different heart.

The joy of another mother with a healthy baby…their memories already being collected…followed by the sorrow that accompanies her baby’s death…a death quite unexpected.

Sorrow at the death of her baby…wondering if fate she will ever forgive…followed by the joy of donating her baby’s heart…so another baby may live.

Sorrow at the helplessness of a mother watching her baby slowly depart…followed by the joy of receiving the precious gift of another baby’s heart.

Is it possible for joy and sorrow to share the same space?

My answer is no longer maybe…

as I watched one mother listen to her baby’s heart…

inside another mother’s baby.

 

CHILD'S PLAY

 

This morning on my walk at the beginning of another day…I felt blessed when the Earth, as she sometimes does, invited the child in me out to play.

There was a cool wind blowing as I stepped outside…a cool wind that never quit…and sometimes the shadows of the trees…would gently touch my shoulder as if to say, “Tag…you’re it!”

And I thought how lucky in nature’s game of tag the trees have chosen me…so, of course, it was my duty to play along and tag another tree.

The moon…not to be outdone…of course she has to be unique…enticed me, using the wind and the clouds, into a game of hide and seek.

But, since she had the wind and the clouds to help her hide…and my hiding skills were weaker…we decided for this game she would always be the hider…and I would be the seeker.

So along I walked playing with the trees and the moon in the early morning dawn…until I noticed up ahead, under a streetlight…a hopscotch court was drawn.

I was taken aback when I saw it…so immediately I stopped…and with the moon and the trees encouraging me…what else could I do…I hopped.

With the hopscotch court behind me…and knowing my walk would be over soon…I went back to playing tag with the trees and seeking the hidden moon.

I ended up thanking the moon and the trees…the wind and the clouds…for such a fun way to start my day…with the hope that, come tomorrow, they again ask me to play.

A BRIEF THOUGHT ON KINDNESS

 

Oftentimes, as I‘m sure you also think, I can be a bit grandiloquent, loquacious and verbose in words that I have inked…

Well, today is proof that sometimes (and I stress sometimes) I can also be succinct:

Today a short note about kindness…for how often do we find…

to our loved ones…to our friends…our family…it is easy to be kind..

I wonder what our world would look like if that kindness overflowed…

onto every creature of the Earth…even those we do not know.

Would we be blessed to wake up one morning…look around and find…

a world where we can all be different…and still be one of a kind?

Well I hope you have enjoyed, as I have, this breviloquent sojourn…

because there’s a good chance come tomorrow…

my verboseness will return.

MAGIC

 I’ve loved magic for as far back as I can remember…I even have a few magic tricks I know…so for my birthday Deborah surprised me with tickets to a local magic show.

We sat in the front row…VIP’s…as the magic was performed…watching with wide eyes and open mouths as the stage continually transformed.

On the way home…my mind still intoxicated by all that glitter…all that glow…I realized how everyone’s life is a kind of magic show.

We enter the world with pizzazz…completely naked and in a way, we’re told, quite lyrical…by the look on everyone’s face in photos from that day…there was magic in that miracle.

From the comfort of their arms…whenever they held us for a while…we learned the magic of a parent’s love…the magic of a smile.

It was magic when we learned to crawl…magic when we learned to walk…and though sometimes we imagine our parent’s would disagree…magic when we learned to talk.

The older and older we grew…the more we came to see…there was magic in our friendships …magic in our family.

Magic in the flowers and the trees…magic in the clouds that drift effortlessly through the air…yes, we began to realize…there is magic everywhere.

 

Magic in the oceans…in the wind…magic in the birds…magic in the love we share…magic in our words.

Magic that astonishes, amazes…that has the ability to surprise…

Magic…occurring every day…right before our eyes.

So we make it our goal to be part of that magic…wherever we are…wherever we may go…

to add our own bit of wonder…and marvel…our own magic to the show.

To find that little bit of magic…and bring it out each day…

for there shall be no greater recognition than to have our friends and family say:

We were a magical friend, husband,  wife, father, mother, Nana or PopPop…

when our magic show is over…

when our final curtain drops.

HER OLD DOG

While our friend and neighbor was in the hospital…as her illness doctors tried to catalogue…we watched over her house…her yard…and took care of her old dog.

Her old dog doesn’t get around as easy as he use to…his hearing’s poor so he doesn’t heed our calls…he has trouble getting up…sometimes he stumbles…occasionally he falls.

He does not see as clearly as he once did so his pace is tentative, measured and slow…his bladder is old which means it wakes him up in the middle of the night and tells him…it’s time to go.

Oh my gosh!  He gets up in the middle of the night to go…he’s unsteady on his feet…he has trouble hearing and cannot always see…I just realized her old dog…sounds a lot like me!

I was lamenting this fact…as I took him out in the middle of the night to go…

saying over and over and over to myself…tell me it isn’t so.

But as I watched him in the yard…while his owner was convalescing…I thought there are some wonderful characteristics of her old dog…that I wouldn’t mind possessing.

Her old dog doesn’t care what gender I am, my sexual orientation…If I’m yellow, red or black.

Her old dog doesn’t care what country I’m from…if it’s Mexico, China or Iraq.

Her old dog doesn’t care what God I pray to…or if a belief in God I lack.

Her old dog doesn’t care how rich I am…If I live in a mansion or a shack.

No, it appears her old dog…like all dogs…have this wonderful inherent knack…

that if we give them love…without restrictions…they will love us back.

A moment ago I was a bit dismayed as I found myself declaring…

all the characteristics her old dog and this old dog are sharing….

Now I feel differently….and as I come to the end of this poetic monologue…

I would be honored if there comes a day

when this old dog…

yes, even in the middle of the night…

is compared to her old dog.

 

REVISITING GRANDMA'S TREE

It was 30 years ago…one year after Grandma died…after we said goodbye…when our son wanted to plant a tree by her grave…at that time the tree was 4 inches high.

I was quite impressed that day with the love and wisdom he displayed,

“I’m going to plant this by Grandma’s grave,” He said, “because Grandma loved the shade.”

When I mentioned that little tree won’t provide much shade…his answer gave me a thrill,

“Not today, Dad,” he said, “but one day…one day…it will.”

Yesterday Deborah and I visited her mom’s grave and that tree is no longer small…from its humble 4 inch beginning it now stands 45 feet tall.

When we decide to plant a tree…that tree has no way of knowing where it will end up…where it is destined to grow…if it will bask in the southern sunshine…or weather the winter snow.

If it will look out over the ocean from an island in the seven seas…if it will stand on top of a mountain and sway gently in the breeze.

If it’s lucky perhaps a young boy will see something special in that tree…and give it a chance to shade his Grandma throughout eternity.

I gave the cemetery a final glance before we left and I had to smile…

for this is memory I shall forever save…

you see the sun was shining brightly…

but there was shade on Grandma’s grave.

 

ADVICE FROM A CHILD

We try to raise our children with kind and generous traits that we hope become inherent…oftentimes forgetting how your children are also raising parents…

With that in mind, I shall yield my pen to the chid in me for a day…it seems he’s been waiting patiently all these years and has some things he’d like to say…

Ahem…thank you adult me, for giving me the opportunity to pen this little rhyme…the first thing I’d like to tell all you parents out there is to give us children…your time.

You need to know how important your time is…for every child’s sake…that merely producing children…does not a parent make.

You may shower us with gifts of money…of toys that move and speak…but at the end of every day…it is time with you we seek.

Your eyes are important to us…it’s where we find our self-esteem…for when we see you believing in us…then we are free to dream.

We are children so we love to play…not necessarily for fortune or for fame…and we don’t have to receive a trophy…every time we play a game.

There will be times we struggle…or fail when we compete…and when we fail we need to know you’ll be there to help us back upon our feet.

We need to know…good or bad…from the time our life begins…you will love us as much every time we lose…as all those times we win.

We need you to be patient with whatever problems life will pose…it is through your patience we will prosper and how our confidence and independence grows.

Never be afraid to tell us NO…it will help us in the end…remember we need you to be our parents…we don’t need another friend.

We look to you for guidance…we look to you for love…and sometimes, when we need it, you can give us a little shove.

But be careful not to shove too hard…or to both of our dismays…you may think you’re helping…but you’re pushing us away.

Remember to love us unconditionally…that’s what parents are supposed to do…if you can do that…no questions asked…then we’ll love you unconditionally too.

It’s really not too much to ask…I hope you all can see….by following this child’s advice…there’s no telling who your children will grow up to be.

Because when you stop and think about it…we are only children for a day…before time and life with its responsibilities snatch our childhood away….

Well…my time is up…but let me leave you with one final reminder regarding us smallest family members….you never know what lessons today…tomorrow…we’ll remember.

One final note to adult me….you say this poetry thing is hard..but now that I’ve gotten through it….how hard can it be..if even a child can do it.

 

IN OUR LITTLE CORNER OF THE WORLD

 

We have no control over many things that across this planet have unfurled…but we can control the way we think and act in our little corner of the world.

Here we have some command over the world we’re trying to create…for instance our corner of the world is so small…we have no room for hate.

In our little corner we want every person to know…from wherever they travel…near or far…they will be always be welcomed and accepted here for exactly who they are.

In our little corner of the world love is simple…love is kind…

In fact with kindness and simplicity is how our little corner is designed.

Reading is simple in our little corner…here we read each other’s eyes…it’s where we find our truth…it’s where our happiness lies.

Math is simple in our little corner…our feelings we do not hide…all our sadness is divided…all our joys are multiplied.

I guess what we’re trying to say…what we think it’s our destiny to do…

when you enter our little corner of the world…

is, simply, to put a little love on you.

So no matter what has happened in your past…

no matter how your life has previously unfurled…

we hope you will find peace and love and comfort 

in our little corner of the world.

A BUTTERFLY DREAM

 

Chuang Tzu (pronounced shuwang zee) was an ancient Chinese philosopher…when one night a vivid dream appeared before his sleeping eyes…in his dream he was not Chuang Tzu anymore…he was a butterfly.

After experiencing a dreamworld where he flew from flower to flower…where he felt so innocent and free…he awoke only to find he was not that butterfly…instead he was Chuang Tzu.

And he asked himself this now famous question…still asked in every corner of philosophy…Am I Chuang Tzu dreaming I was a butterfly…or am I a butterfly dreaming I’m Chuang Tzu?

Before you scoff at a butterfly that dreams and wonder if Chuang Tzu’s pondering was amiss…remember all butterflies, like us, change in stages…it’s called metamorphosis.

They enter into each stage innocent and when from that stage they finally escape…they have changed a little bit of who they are in their size and in their shape.

In the early stages they crawl and eat and sleep…they are somewhat quiet, reserved and shy…until the day their wings are formed and they begin to fly.

Every butterfly is beautiful as they soar from flower to flower or rest upon a leaf…sharing their beauty with the world for a little while….as their time on Earth is brief.

So perhaps Chuang Tzu’s thinking was not as far off as it seems…

Since we share so much with the butterfly…it’s easy to imagine they, too, might dream…

So I leave you with one final thought before heading on my way

a question, I imagine, Chuang Tzu might ask if he were her today:

Have I written this while sitting at my computer 

in the comfort of my home…

or is it possible…

could it be…

a butterfly wrote this poem?

THE POWER OF OUR ARMS

We learn quite early the one place we can always feel safe and free from harm from the moment we are born…is in our parent’s arms.

As babies they cradle us before we can walk…when we’re eating… as we’re sleeping…we feel their tenderness surround us every time they pick us up when we’re smiling…when we’re weeping.

It is not merely a coincidence that…with a smile on our face…our first steps are taken from across the room…into their warm embrace.

Then one day we begin to understand how our arms were created with the knack not only to receive love but, with a hug, to give it back.

From that moment on…when our life is happy…nothing quite compares…when we wrap our arms around each other and our happiness is shared.

Or how when sadness enters our life…in the comfort of each other’s arms we find a way….to blend our sadnesses together and for a moment wash our tears away.

And we come realize in life…down whatever path we’re heading…

the seeds of love are created in our hearts…

but it’s our arms that do their spreading.

 

FROM ONE ATHLETE TO ANOTHER

Our granddaughter’s playing soccer again…she’s the goalie on her team

and in some ways as I watch her…it’s like I’m reliving a dream….

You see I grew up thinking I was an athlete…what other conclusion could I draw…

when I looked into the mirror…an athlete was who I saw.

But my recollections of my career in sports are anything but athletic…

In fact the best word to describe them…I imagine is pathetic.

For my athletic career, unfortunately, had an abbreviated run…

apparently it’s a long way from thinking you’re an athlete to actually being one.

I tried my luck at baseball…but in hindsight I have to admit

it’s not easy to play baseball if you can’t catch a ball…or hit.

So I tried my luck at wrestling…I thought for wrestling I had a knack

until I spent my entire wrestling career…lying on my back.

Next I turned to football…which from the beginning was a mismatch…

because I did not like getting hit….and even that bigger ball…I could not catch.

I do have one great memory from my career in sports, however…even though as an athlete I was bad…it was when I looked up into the stands and, looking back, I’d see my mom and dad.

When I struck out, when I got pinned, when I dropped the ball…Mom and Dad still found a way to cheer….

They would smile and wave to me…as if I was the athlete of the year

For it didn’t matter how I did as long as I gave it my best…

and as long as I had fun…my parents were impressed.

I realized it wasn’t how good or bad I was…whether I ever achieved athletic fortune or fame…my parents were proud not for how I did…but for how I played the game.

Which is why when I watch Ava play…it’s only my granddaughter out there I see…

and win or lose if she did her best…

if she had fun…

that will always be good enough for me.