One day
I am not sure when
I will board a great boat
And out to sea
Her and I will go
And as captain and maiden
We will throw
Our selves into the waves
Unveiling our sails
Letting everything we once were on land
Disperse into the wind
And then
When we have both dropped it all
Into the ocean below
Only then will we know
What it feels like to ebb and flow
~ Ebb and Flow ~
When I was a boy
I used to sit at the end of the dock for hours
On end
Just watching sunfish
Circling in the water below
Occasionally dipping my toes or fingers
Just below the water’s surface film
Letting the fish nibble them
Attempting time after time to trick them
My sister and I
Made a great team
Catching them with plastic shovels and buckets as tools
Laughing and smiling and swimming
For hours on end
Concentrating only as children can
And then those days were gone
Just like that
Hours and hours full of buckets
And sand and and sunshine and sunfish
~ A Minnesota Childhood ~
Those that tell you
There are "rules" to writing
Have no clue
What they are talking about
And
It is highly likely
That if someone
Often a PhD professor or "teacher"
Says so
They have never picked
Up a pen
Of their own
On their own
And placed it on the glorious
White blank canvas
Before them
That sacred space
Where rules
Simply
Do
Not
Exist
Unless
That is
One is in the business
Of making a list
Of what to do and not to do
With this one and only
Life they were given
To live
And
Build
And
Play
And
Create
But of course
There are rules
To writing
And these one must learn to break
So that they
Can make
Great art
That will last
For ages after
One puts pen to paper
~ Write With No Rules ~
Dear Doctor Of Philosophy
Anyone can earn a degree
By entering the world of academia
Learning all sorts of things
And nothing
Instead
Demonstrate
To which degree
You are capable of
Grinding
Hustling
And
Working
Knowing all the while
That the long arduous hours
Were never that at all
But just
Care free play
~ PhD ~
The devastation of a clearcut
Extends far beyond
The tree tops
Down into the soil it goes
The effects felt for years
Afterwards
Decades
Millennia
In the name of a "progress" that never rests
With no trees left
We will be out of breathe
Where's the progress in that?
~ On Progress ~
C: Butterfly, I want to fly so badly.
B: There is no hurry my dear.
C: It's hard not to want to though.
B: I understand, but there is no need to hurry.
C: Yes, I worry a lot about flying.
B: There is no need to.
C: How can I stop worrying?
B: Take one step at a time. Before you know it you will be flying high in the sky.
~ Conversations Between Caterpillar And Butterfly ~
Only matters of sheer importance
Are worth your attention
The last piece of sand
Pours from the hour glass
Faster than you can fathom
Unexpected
Your time is invaluable
~ Hour Glass ~
Our lives are circular
I understand this now
They come round and round
You see
I used to get angry
With mom
For vacuuming the house
We had dogs
So many of them
Three or four
Five at times
Incessant shedders
And mom
Mom would vacuum
All the f’ing time
Excuse my french
But this is how I felt
Often times at 5:30 in the morning
I'm not joking
My sister and I would be asleep
And mom
Mom would already be drinking
Coffee
And
Vacuuming
"Is this some sick joke?"
I would think to myself
Waking at 5:30 am
To that damn Buzzing
We thought she was crazy
My sister and I
This woman
Obsessed with cleanliness
Literally
In love
With vacuums
And their ability to suck up a room
She'd often come home with them
Second hand ones
Vacuums
She just bought from the thrift shop
"Look at this brand new vacuum I found!"
“25 bucks!”
She would exclaim
Smiling from ear to ear
As if finding some hidden treasure
A craze in her eyes
"What is this woman on about?"
My sister and I thought
How could one be
So
In love
With a machine
Designed for sucking up things?
Often she would ask me
Yes me
Can you believe?
To use the damn thing
At age thirteen
Vacuuming!!! Really? Boring!
But Mom…
I get it now
Why you felt like you felt
How you fell for the vacuum
After all
Our lives do come
Round and round
And now nearly thirty
Living across the globe
With a dog
Just one
I understand
My crazy mom
The other day I bought my first ever vacuum
I paid a fortune for it
I thought
Over $100 bucks
But later found out
That the best cost much much more
How I would love one of those thousand dollar heroes
So…
I get it Mom
You see
My vacuum
Yes
The one that belongs to me
Is my new prized possession
And I am
In love
With it
And now I understand
Life comes back around
~ Vacuums ~
Man will do anything
To give
His life
Meaning
And
Purpose
Anything
Like
Waking
At four o'clock
In the morning
And going about
Doing things
Like making phone calls
Across time zones
Working out
Meeting people
Debating
Pontificating
About nothing
Incessantly moving
Spinning wheels
Doing
Everything
And
Nothing
At the same time
Running all over
Yet
Going nowhere
But in circles
This is a grave mistake
That man makes
Most all of his life
Thinking that it is him who makes
Meaning out of a life
That is not even his
Nor does he ever give
The chance to live
~ A Grave Mistake ~
“You cannot adapt to an environment you do not inhabit”
Someone once said
The organisation corporation business company entity team
You belong to
Has the one opportunity
To act accordingly
S - incerely
And
H - onestly
With
I - ntegrity
And
T - ruthfully
So that those working
It’s employees
Have the chance to
Become exactly as the company they keep
~ The S.H.I.T. ~
While you and I stand here
On the banks of this great river
Overlooking the water
In the last light of day
We do not see the same river
Certainly
From here
You can see
The riffle upstream
And the trout feeding in the pool below
And although it may seem
As if
We are looking at the same river
We are not
I see a different river
One that I have walked now and a thousand times before
And while your eyes may meet the water this evening
In the half light
They cannot possibly see what mine do
So much so
This river and I
Have come to know one another
~ We Are Not Looking At The Same River ~
There is no reason for rushing ever
Just as the river never does
It just runs
Despite what they say
Sometimes slow and languid through long smooth stretches
Others fast and choppy as a riffle or rapid
But the river never rushes
And the water is never in a hurry to get somewhere
That it is not already
~ The River Never Rushes ~
Are you the bacon or the egg?
One
Commits itself entirely to the breakfast plate
The
P.
I.
G.
The other
Walks away
To live another day
~ The Chicken ~
Instead of attempting to lead
Walk in such a way
That those behind you
Cannot help but want to
Follow you
Then
Let them
Lead you
To new galaxies
As they pull like wild beasts
You
Holding onto the reigns
Joyful
For the ride of your life
~ On Leadership ~
All around the world this morning
Men and women sit at coffee shops conversing
About the day's business
Busy - ness
Has become
The modern man's existence
Racing rushing going nowhere
Fast
In the name of a race
That is not nor matters at all
Nevertheless
The conversation babbles on
Barely
Over and atop the bedrock
~ Brook ~
Flight is possible. Now.
The human being is far more capable than he or she believes. Man labours to pick up a thousand stones when he is capable of moving mountains. Man toils his way through life working hard, but never coming close to becoming his absolute best. Man fails to come anywhere near living the one and only life he has been given to live. He is dead.
Flight is possible. Now.
If only man were able to free himself he would take on a rare form that was meant for him and him only. But few men ever give themselves the chance to fly, never seeing the chains that bind them. if only they knew how easy it was to cut the ties.
So man follows a path that is not his. In doing so, he fails to ever live. So he just exists. Inhaling. Exhaling. Running around a wheel that never ends. Going nowhere fast. Waiting for death. It is what it is. Many men would argue this.
But there is a way out for him. If he wants to get out, that is. Because few men do, truly seek the road to freedom.
Flight is possible. Now.
Some will read the above and nothing will happen. Perhaps, a laugh. Others though, in the still sincerity of their hearts, may hear a message. A message that exists for the man of rare form. The one and only. The sincerest of all.
~ Flight is possible. Now ~
Do you remember running through the hallways as a child? Perhaps in socks or bare feet.
How fast you felt as the walls flashed past.
Sprinting effortlessly.
"No running in the halls!" some authoritarian was sure to yell out.
I would go back there in an instant.
Yes.
10 year old me. Racing. Flying. Gliding. Sliding. Drifting into corners. Frictioning around bends. Static rising from my feet. Running.
Running just for the sake of running and having ran as a fast as I can.
~ Running As The Ultimate Expression Of Freedom ~
Innovation is not always something new
It is often a return to
Peering back
Into the past
Studying our ancestors
And looking at
The simplest of things
Like
Breathing
Eating
Exercising
And Sleeping
All of the “right” answers are there for you
Clear as day
Waiting for when you will begin to live
Again
As you were made
~ A Return To Nature ~
This is the most important training session of your life. Why?
Because it is. Right here. Right now. Right in front of your face. And tomorrow will be the same. If you are fortunate. Do you understand this?
Really?
I don't think so. I don't know if I do.
Do you love football for the sake of football or do you covet it for something else? Be honest with your self.
Are you in the business of mastering the craft? Becoming the absolute best you are capable of? Or are you interested in looking good, status, fame, admiration of family and friends, money or just passing the time because you have nothing better to do? Do you love football for football sake or something else all together?
There is no right or wrong here. There is just what is. There is only what you are. And you are what you are. But you can change. Through honesty and awareness and sincerity you can change. You can grow. You can improve your state. You can become. More optimal.
Often times looking forward is not the answer. Looking back as to why you began in the first place however....
When was the last time you really played football?
Like really played. With the heart of a child. Wild and free and untamed. Unthinkingly. In the grass. In the wet. The smell of it. The sweat.
~ The Taste Of Football ~