Every Day Zen
Whether it is voice recognition, dictation, or Siri, predictive text is not given to the poetic in us. Rather, artificial intelligence assigns labels, predicts patterns. But humans always break the mold, no matter how predictable we appear to be. We fight for words, stretching sentence structure for all it’s worth. Fragments rearrange and clauses connect until... Continue Reading →
Aging is freeing for a writer, a last gasp of so many why nots? I’ve mentioned wanting to write poetry but not having a poet’s heart, which I don’t, but why not a few lines of verse, from time to time? And because it is not real poetry but an exercise, I use a quotation,... Continue Reading →
All her life, Mary Oliver gave us “instructions for living,” being aware, delighted because of it, and “telling about it.” That was her poetry, line after line. Mary Oliver is gone but how grateful I am that she lived and told us about it. I don’t know how many of her poems are in my... Continue Reading →
When you are trying to change the questions, you have to realize that many people are quite resistant to such a change. They like the answers they have. Stanley Hauerwas Q&A Answers, boxes of questions cornered. What to do and not, each easily rising to a reason d’etre until change comes creeping in fury.... Continue Reading →
I did not find them by the sea but in a forest deep. They sat path-side. A fossilized shell, wave-smooth, with a wooden wayfarer having lost all but itself. As one, they appeared a fish, head of stone, body and tail of crêpe myrtle. On that day, they left one path for another. Who knows... Continue Reading →
I submitted a poem for publication that was not ready. It was barely a poem, far from what it could be, but my focus was making a deadline, and I did. I am testing my theory of aiming for even, meeting each day’s energy, high or low, and finding the middle within. Evening it out,... Continue Reading →
I know a story of finding meaning in a Zen koan, any koan. It is a tale of a tree and an axe. The tree’s girth is considerable, a life of many rings, no two alike, for as each ring ended another began. No matter how sharp (or great) the axe, the chopping through of... Continue Reading →
I no longer mine time or its constructs of day, year, or hour. Each offers a vein of value--time tunnels--I dig deep in these caverns. I trust the tunnel where I find myself, turning over such nuggets like living a routine of no routine, a phrase that irritates AutoCorrect, defying definition. I take heart in... Continue Reading →
Life or death. A hurricane brings both to the forefront. The decision to stay or to go is the storm within a storm. Regardless, there is no escaping the experience of a hurricane. Now or later, you won’t miss it. Everything and everyone is scrutinized. We find out who we are and who we are... Continue Reading →
You must habit yourself to the dazzle of the light and of every moment of your life. Long have you timidly waded holding a plank by the shore, Now I will you to be a bold swimmer, Walt Whitman, "Song of Myself," Section 46 Walt Whitman comes to mind more these days than he did during... Continue Reading →
Aim For Even: The Daily Dose 