I know here in Sonoma County there has been the lackluster accomplishments of the Sun lately, making me feel as though most people have disengaged from having the transitional experience both in mind and body, as we make our perpetual spiritual transformations from place to place. These moments are necessary to realize where we are, not just as personal individuals, but as a collective soul, one immersed in several preoccupations with destiny herself. Is the clamor about us brought on by our prescence here insisting on rhetoric to define the possibilities on this God Given existence on earth, or is it part of the day to day shenanigans that comes with the passing of time participating with Mother Nature in all her glory.
This is that question that pops up every so often in the minds of Mortal Men, dawdling in their own selfish fortitude's, whether or not we are left to our own devices, or subject to some abject fate, predestined to put us into harm's way. Again, I beg the premise that we are not only what we eat, but the majesties that are bequeathed to us when we promulgate those situational outcomes when we make these wonderful conscious decisions to disrupt our static lives.
It is a glorious thing then, when those challenges came face to face with their masters, and oh so delightful when we find those rainbows and don the wings of the Angels that we so fervently want to have access to the flights of fancy when we meet those challenges head on, and somehow, with the Grace of God, pull threw to see the light peaking through the clouds to bathe us in the warmth of knowing things have been solved and we can move on to similar experiences in the near future, to continue to evolve for reasons unknown to most of us, for most of our lives. Go forth my Little Brave Ones, into the waves of the future, with fortitude and anxiousness, leaving no stone unturned, without the fear of reprisal, but more so, with the Joys, Laughter and Dancing that comes with a Job Well Done and a Life Well Lived.
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Throwing Images into Time and Eventually, Space
I have been often tossed into the salads of other people's impressions of what our freedom was defined as, and the most peculiar of those forums continues to revolve around what the veterans or military role is when the bugle sounds out the revelry of congruence in our many faceted lifestyles.
I don't mean to be facetious or belittling when saying that most of these conjectures come out in the essence of if not for them I would not have the freedom to choose my fates, or represent those individual foundations of my intellectual curiosities or mindsets.
I exist not only in my own property values when it comes to mental pursuits, but also rely, as a citizen of the United States of America, on those intuitive and extrapolated ideals written down in the Declaration of Independence, The Bill of Rights and the Constitution involving things like freedom of speech and religion and other non-violent interpretations of somewhat clear minded and forward looking thinkers, who took upon themselves to set down on paper those ideas and concepts they thought would evolve over the years to keep up with the changing technological and financial situations being faced by future participants of this glorious lifestyle and representative form of government called Democracy.
Now in past years when World Wars interrupted our skill sets, we had military drafts, but now we rely on individuals to join for various reasons, one of which I feel is based on the unemployment and financial difficulties we now find ourselves in. Whoever you think is running this country, it doesn't matter to me what they do or think, or what they think I should do. I will do what I want to do, and I will suffer whatever is my fate in doing so. I do not in anyway look to the military, with their images of destruction or killing as a way out of our intellectual or economic illness. It is our check and balance system, with mental, emotional, physical and spiritual health that makes us successful. If we tip the scales to one side or another, as you can so easily see, we are no longer healthy as a nation, but on a global scale we also suffer the same illness when competition, jealousy and lack of education puts us on so many wrong tracks. Just let me say, I don't look at any one side of the fence or any greener grass on the other side being either a solution or a cause for the calamities we face. Also, the military is not the way to achieve a balanced inner peace of my mind. That is making a short story, way too long, and though I am not remorseful in so doing, these few lines are just the beginning of my story and I am sticking to it.
I don't mean to be facetious or belittling when saying that most of these conjectures come out in the essence of if not for them I would not have the freedom to choose my fates, or represent those individual foundations of my intellectual curiosities or mindsets.
I exist not only in my own property values when it comes to mental pursuits, but also rely, as a citizen of the United States of America, on those intuitive and extrapolated ideals written down in the Declaration of Independence, The Bill of Rights and the Constitution involving things like freedom of speech and religion and other non-violent interpretations of somewhat clear minded and forward looking thinkers, who took upon themselves to set down on paper those ideas and concepts they thought would evolve over the years to keep up with the changing technological and financial situations being faced by future participants of this glorious lifestyle and representative form of government called Democracy.
Now in past years when World Wars interrupted our skill sets, we had military drafts, but now we rely on individuals to join for various reasons, one of which I feel is based on the unemployment and financial difficulties we now find ourselves in. Whoever you think is running this country, it doesn't matter to me what they do or think, or what they think I should do. I will do what I want to do, and I will suffer whatever is my fate in doing so. I do not in anyway look to the military, with their images of destruction or killing as a way out of our intellectual or economic illness. It is our check and balance system, with mental, emotional, physical and spiritual health that makes us successful. If we tip the scales to one side or another, as you can so easily see, we are no longer healthy as a nation, but on a global scale we also suffer the same illness when competition, jealousy and lack of education puts us on so many wrong tracks. Just let me say, I don't look at any one side of the fence or any greener grass on the other side being either a solution or a cause for the calamities we face. Also, the military is not the way to achieve a balanced inner peace of my mind. That is making a short story, way too long, and though I am not remorseful in so doing, these few lines are just the beginning of my story and I am sticking to it.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Your Feeling the Phone is Ringing....
As if the ringing is not coming from some cosmic church bell sitting on top of a marvelously designed, architecturally speaking, Religious Icon in some foreign land waiting for something other than what is happening presently. Yes, instead it is just that commonplace ringtone so associated with a land line. It isn't cause for alarm, or that you haven't kept up with the times, just that you casually assume your position in the proverbial chain of command afforded any normal voting citizen attached to what is assumed a ritualistic process in a democratically based form of government.
These days you get a lot of 800 calls that you just ignore from the experience that it is just a computer calling, for whatever purpose and is intended to cajole you into something other than your present States of mind. The cool thing is when you let it ring, it either dissipates before the answering machine gives into the incessant ringing, which seems to be a piecemeal number like four, or when it gets to two or three, it knows your not answering, so it just disconnects it's line of reasoning.
Since the governing body is somehow supplied with some fiscal reconnaissance so they don't have to have a navigator spotting where the direct hit has to land, they can all, whatever the mindset that put them into an elected office, just disregard the nuances, and let themselves be dictated to from a distance, or an unregistered cellphone, thus providing no electronic or paper trail to the disregard of personal dignity or a representation of humanity.
We now find ourselves just feeling like we are hearing the phone ring, as if someone is here to clarify the misdeeds perpetrated on us by these mindless ghosts masquerading as elected officials. When it really is, is just a Deja Vu moment in which we can recall what we thought was the direction we were headed in the 60's thru the turmoil, the Age of Aquarius, the summer of love and the impending evolution of the Soul. No my dearest friends, we are no longer connected to the principles written in the Declaration of Independence, or the Constitution, but are now finding that the phone we used to answer no longer exists. The connection, one ringy dingy, two ringy dingyies has been severed and the cords are lying still on the ground, no long coiling to make a strike. So, silently, in a stupor, listen to your heartbeat, feel the emotional string tug at what little is left of your addled brainwaves, get out on the highway and search for a new adventure, accepting whatever is coming your way by your individual train of thought and on the caravan you have chosen to get back the independence you once owned and are now struggling to answer the phone before the line once again turns into a busy signal.
These days you get a lot of 800 calls that you just ignore from the experience that it is just a computer calling, for whatever purpose and is intended to cajole you into something other than your present States of mind. The cool thing is when you let it ring, it either dissipates before the answering machine gives into the incessant ringing, which seems to be a piecemeal number like four, or when it gets to two or three, it knows your not answering, so it just disconnects it's line of reasoning.
Since the governing body is somehow supplied with some fiscal reconnaissance so they don't have to have a navigator spotting where the direct hit has to land, they can all, whatever the mindset that put them into an elected office, just disregard the nuances, and let themselves be dictated to from a distance, or an unregistered cellphone, thus providing no electronic or paper trail to the disregard of personal dignity or a representation of humanity.
We now find ourselves just feeling like we are hearing the phone ring, as if someone is here to clarify the misdeeds perpetrated on us by these mindless ghosts masquerading as elected officials. When it really is, is just a Deja Vu moment in which we can recall what we thought was the direction we were headed in the 60's thru the turmoil, the Age of Aquarius, the summer of love and the impending evolution of the Soul. No my dearest friends, we are no longer connected to the principles written in the Declaration of Independence, or the Constitution, but are now finding that the phone we used to answer no longer exists. The connection, one ringy dingy, two ringy dingyies has been severed and the cords are lying still on the ground, no long coiling to make a strike. So, silently, in a stupor, listen to your heartbeat, feel the emotional string tug at what little is left of your addled brainwaves, get out on the highway and search for a new adventure, accepting whatever is coming your way by your individual train of thought and on the caravan you have chosen to get back the independence you once owned and are now struggling to answer the phone before the line once again turns into a busy signal.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Family Matters
For the past few months, some revelations about what is really important have been surfacing in numerous conversations, programs on TV, articles in the Newspaper, if you even do the exercise of reading anymore, since the internet, and the addiction to TV have become, along with handheld networking have surfaced in realms we all associate with our day to day living.
If I do say so myself, after being raised in a military family, and traversing over so many platitudes during the course of one duty station after another, years on the road, defining my space in time, and society by being a vagabond of sorts, and then coming crashing down to earth in a Fig Isaac Newton sort of way, marrying into a local and rural family, I have not been immune to the wonders of such fodder as family and community, including what support you engender by being a member of a local church.
My mother was one who took a train across country from Baltimore, Maryland to California, got on a freighter and headed onto Japan, where my father was stationed, and after short stints in China and Japan, they both came back to the states to start a family. My mother sewed her own clothes, reupholstered furniture, did plumbing and electrical work, beat men in tennis, bridge and golf, was a gourmet cook, raised five boys and then went back to school and became a C-27 Landscape Contractor.
My Dad was in the Navy for 37 years. His brother flew B-29's in WWII and later became a Veterinarian and when he retired to Cambria, after living in Southern California, took care of, for awhile, the dogs at Hearst Castle.
My brother Mike was in the Army JAG Corps for 25 years and now is the Chief of Staff for the Surgeon General of the Department of Defense.
My father-in-law built Submarines at Mare Island, and had many stories about his life, his times with hunting buddies, his experiences at Mare Island, and was in his own right a Master in the Culinary Arts.
On my Dad's side of the family I am related to Wilbur B. Hatch, who did the orchestration for the " I Love Lucy Show " and on my mother's side of the family, I am related to Samuel B. Morse, the guy who invented the Telegraph Machine. As for whether or not I am really related to Julia Child, thru my Dad being related to her husband Paul, is still in contention. Though when prompted on various levels, I easily find it within myself to say that is why I have all the Culinary Leanings that I do, along with the fact my mother was an artist in the kitchen, beyond the concepts of managing her own time, while investing in the flavor profiles of the Global Communities she dabbled in.
So when it comes to quaint little excerpts coming from various forms of media, that the realization of Family and Communities will get us over the hump when it comes to this fast pace society we keep engendering in so many Bloody Pulpits and political caustic rhetoric, my stand outside the line, during the games of Dodge Ball, I am already quite untouched by, or even involved in such discourse. This means, that my lifestyle of being a recorder, or a watcher, if you will, of cultural anthropology, historical nuance and architectural story telling in form, function, geometric pattern and textural tribalism, has already had it's wick lit or the switch " Turned On " so as not to have to wait, as others come to such conclusions, to begin to put their feet into the water. This is in no way saying anything that can be misconstrued, or typecast or profiled as either side of any spectral analysis, other than what your reading. I am not the only Dreamer in the crowd. As like many from the 60's, I have always stood in the doorway, or hid under the desk at school, in case of an Earthquake, or a chance the Bomb is just about ready to hit, and chanted out loud and in my head those famous words..."Give Peace / A Piece of the Pie a Chance ". Come to Papa someone once purported to have enthralled his family members with one day. Well, There You Go Again, Ronald Reagan, or Ronald McDonald once commented. The Golden Arches are still there, but the words of such poets are not necessarily still on the Subway Walls. Let my people go.....Me
If I do say so myself, after being raised in a military family, and traversing over so many platitudes during the course of one duty station after another, years on the road, defining my space in time, and society by being a vagabond of sorts, and then coming crashing down to earth in a Fig Isaac Newton sort of way, marrying into a local and rural family, I have not been immune to the wonders of such fodder as family and community, including what support you engender by being a member of a local church.
My mother was one who took a train across country from Baltimore, Maryland to California, got on a freighter and headed onto Japan, where my father was stationed, and after short stints in China and Japan, they both came back to the states to start a family. My mother sewed her own clothes, reupholstered furniture, did plumbing and electrical work, beat men in tennis, bridge and golf, was a gourmet cook, raised five boys and then went back to school and became a C-27 Landscape Contractor.
My Dad was in the Navy for 37 years. His brother flew B-29's in WWII and later became a Veterinarian and when he retired to Cambria, after living in Southern California, took care of, for awhile, the dogs at Hearst Castle.
My brother Mike was in the Army JAG Corps for 25 years and now is the Chief of Staff for the Surgeon General of the Department of Defense.
My father-in-law built Submarines at Mare Island, and had many stories about his life, his times with hunting buddies, his experiences at Mare Island, and was in his own right a Master in the Culinary Arts.
On my Dad's side of the family I am related to Wilbur B. Hatch, who did the orchestration for the " I Love Lucy Show " and on my mother's side of the family, I am related to Samuel B. Morse, the guy who invented the Telegraph Machine. As for whether or not I am really related to Julia Child, thru my Dad being related to her husband Paul, is still in contention. Though when prompted on various levels, I easily find it within myself to say that is why I have all the Culinary Leanings that I do, along with the fact my mother was an artist in the kitchen, beyond the concepts of managing her own time, while investing in the flavor profiles of the Global Communities she dabbled in.
So when it comes to quaint little excerpts coming from various forms of media, that the realization of Family and Communities will get us over the hump when it comes to this fast pace society we keep engendering in so many Bloody Pulpits and political caustic rhetoric, my stand outside the line, during the games of Dodge Ball, I am already quite untouched by, or even involved in such discourse. This means, that my lifestyle of being a recorder, or a watcher, if you will, of cultural anthropology, historical nuance and architectural story telling in form, function, geometric pattern and textural tribalism, has already had it's wick lit or the switch " Turned On " so as not to have to wait, as others come to such conclusions, to begin to put their feet into the water. This is in no way saying anything that can be misconstrued, or typecast or profiled as either side of any spectral analysis, other than what your reading. I am not the only Dreamer in the crowd. As like many from the 60's, I have always stood in the doorway, or hid under the desk at school, in case of an Earthquake, or a chance the Bomb is just about ready to hit, and chanted out loud and in my head those famous words..."Give Peace / A Piece of the Pie a Chance ". Come to Papa someone once purported to have enthralled his family members with one day. Well, There You Go Again, Ronald Reagan, or Ronald McDonald once commented. The Golden Arches are still there, but the words of such poets are not necessarily still on the Subway Walls. Let my people go.....Me
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