-
A Poem
In every crack and crevice of our waking world,
the dream
remains.
Within a hush in wind, beyond
the scope of a flashlight,
in the anticipation of a kiss, tucked within
folds of clouds,
the rattles of frozen leaves,
the dream
remains.
That silent second
before
dawn.
That moment just
before
our eyes focus on the web of branches
cast against the sky.
( Read more... ) -
Moonlit Walk to Francis
Snow and silence absorbs the beat and thread of my boots crushing the snow. I walk back to my room. The air is cold, filled with a violent wind sawing through the air, and the purity of a cold night keeping travelers indoors. Something sacred lies in the brittle leaves rattling on a small oak, their patter and dizzy rhythm. Something old ( Read more... ) -
Pondering...
I love going for walks because in nature you're never alone. Why isn't that the same when I'm surrounded by people? -
Clouds
The clouds drifted over head like the dregs at the bottom of a fish tank. The currents coursing through the skies bore them along, rivers of condensation and dust. I plodded along the long, lonely path from Plassmann to Francis. Once again, my eyes locked to the sky, my head lost in cloud and star, but my feet remain planted.
I kicked snow into ( Read more... ) -
Time
Time is a cruel jester. I just wish I got his sense of humor more. -
Thoughts
Thoughts walking to and from buildings ( Read more... ) -
Beethoven's Sixth, final movement
In eleventh grade, I wrote a bucket list to try to oust me from my depression. I think of it from time to time and make a similar effort still, pulling out a pen and paper to note certain things that bring me joy--anything to take my mind off my dark moods. Back then, I had six things:
1. Learn the flute
2. See Beethoven's 5th Live
3. See Beethoven's ( Read more... ) -
My Novel, the Writerly Life, and Carl Sagan
So... I didn't finish my novel--but that's OK. I didn't want to rush and cram my words onto the page. Last winter I wrote whenever I could, whether I was tired, foggy-headed, sick, busy, rushed, or not. That was an experience. I'm glad I had it--and I recommend it. But I wanted to try to write with discipline without pressure. I wanted to work on ( Read more... ) -
Zen retreat
Off to a Zen retreat in the Catskills! I'll be out in a monastery meditating with monks and practitioners, putting me beyond the range of most communication. I'll tell folks how it goes, but in the mean time, cheerio! -
Finding ourselves: the impossible dream
The way I see it, life hurts. Despite its joy, that's its heart. How one responds to that hurt defines the transition to adulthood. As a child, our innocence shelters us. Guardians structure our lives around their values, saving us the terrifying journey of plucking them from the whirlwind. We don't need to face questions of meaning or religion, of ( Read more... )