WHAT MAKES YOU HAPPY
is a really simple question
with a Ga-Zillion answers
but when you clear away the clutter
way before the dust even has a chance to settle
The Pandemic
(as if you shamefully even needed one)
let us all know that it’s not
our medical advances
our scientific discoveries
our masks
our vaccinations
our boosters
our therapies
our interventions
that save us. . . .
so much as our
R E L A T I O N S H I P S
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
A WONDERFUL WORLD
isn’t the stuff that it holds
IT IS THE PEOPLE WHO INHABIT IT
A RESPONSE
R E S P O N D
it’s sound like a simple thing
until it’s the one thing we usually
D O N ‘ T
D O. . .
R E A C T,
now that we do a lot,
b u t
R E S P O N D
w e l l. . .
but then:
In 2006 a high school English teacher asked students to write a famous author and ask for advice; there was only one to respond – and his response is magnificent:
“Dear Xavier High School, and Ms. Lockwood, and Messrs Perin, McFeely, Batten, Maurer and Congiusta:
I thank you for your friendly letters. You sure know how to cheer up a really old geezer (84) in his sunset years. I don’t make public appearances any more because I now resemble nothing so much as an iguana.
What I had to say to you, moreover, would not take long, to wit: Practice any art, music, singing, dancing, acting, drawing, painting, sculpting, poetry, fiction, essays, reportage, no matter how well or badly, not to get money and fame, but to experience becoming, to find out what’s inside you, to make your soul grow.
Seriously! I mean starting right now, do art and do it for the rest of your lives. Draw a funny or nice picture of Ms. Lockwood, and give it to her. Dance home after school, and sing in the shower and on and on. Make a face in your mashed potatoes. Pretend you’re Count Dracula.
Here’s an assignment for tonight, and I hope Ms. Lockwood will flunk you if you don’t do it: Write a six line poem, about anything, but rhymed. No fair tennis without a net. Make it as good as you possibly can. But don’t tell anybody what you’re doing. Don’t show it or recite it to anybody, not even your girlfriend or parents or whatever, or Ms. Lockwood. OK?
Tear it up into teeny-weeny pieces, and discard them into widely separated trash receptacals. You will find that you have already been gloriously rewarded for your poem. You have experienced becoming, learned a lot more about what’s inside you, and you have made your soul grow.
God bless you all!”
Kurt Vonnegut
So. . .
DO YOU RESPOND
DO YOU REACT
WHAT MAKES THE HOLY DAYS HIGH
WHAT MAKES THE HOLY DAYS HIGH is
R E C O G N I T I O N
Can we talk about diversity and cultural competency for a minute. . .
OR A FEW DAYS. . .
OR A SEASON. . .
Every Fall there are about 7 million Jewish holidays that Jewish workers have to navigate. Ok, that’s only a slight exaggeration but that’s what it feels like, especially when they are, at times, completely overlooked or just not recognized
Some years they fall on the weekends but others they fall on the weekdays like this year.
And every Fall, without fail, businesses, affinity groups, organizations etc schedule meetings and events on these very important Jewish holy days. For many Jews, scheduling something on Rosh Hashanah or Yom Kippur is akin to scheduling something for non-Jews on Christmas. It’s pretty discouraging, hurtful and objectionable. In an age of now super-sensitivity to diversity and inclusion, scheduling something on these holy days can even come off as offensive.
So a quick guide to the Jewish holiday season for this year seems to be a very Caring Catalyst KIND of thing to do.
It’s an opportunity for all of us to not only share best wishes for the holidays but take the extra step of rescheduling team meetings, events etc for days that are not Jewish holidays. This will go a long way to making everyone feel included and respected at what is a really busy but very meaningful and important time.
May these Holy Days be made be held even more HIGH with the kindness, openness and recognition we share with each other
WE ARE ALL HUMAN
W E
A R E
A L L
H U M A N. . .
Walking along a busy street in Edinburgh, my eye caught a sign resting at the feet of a man sitting on the pavement outside a posh hotel. It simply read, ‘I am a human being.’ It stopped me dead in my tracks. Kneeling down to take a closer look, I struck up a conversation with Sparky. And what started as a quick chat, turned into a few hours together, while Sparky shared his story with us. We need to remember that every person, regardless of their situation, is a human being with dignity, with a name, a story, a family and a history – like all of us. We’re all human. And if you ever find yourself in Edinburgh, go have a chat with Sparky – you won’t regret it. You can usually find him outside All Bar One, corner of George and Hanover Street. To follow our film making journey – https://www.patreon.com/greenrenaissance Filmed in Edinburgh, Scotland. Who is Green Renaissance? We are a tiny collective of 3 passionate filmmakers (Michael, Justine and Jackie). We live off-grid and dedicate our time to making films that we hope will inspire and share ideas.
IS THERE A MORE POWERFUL
FOUR-WORDED MESSAGE. . .
we
are
all
human
Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
YOU SO POWERFULLY
L I V E
The Answer
H A L T
Dave is a friend of mine from Nacogdoches, Texas. He owns and operates
Galleria Z, a Custom Picture Framing and Artful gifts decor shop. He recently posted the following story:
Most everyone knows this word, but it also functions as an acronym that has some helpful wisdom. A man I’ve gotten to know comes in my shop from time-to-time seeking small jobs to make a little money but now more often just to talk. He has numerous life challenges including mental illness and alcohol dependency. He got sober a couple of months ago and says he’s been going to AA some. He’s also been fighting to find stable/regular employment. Every day is a battle for him. Anyhow, I’ve talked to him about this notable AA acronym. For those who don’t know, it’s meant to advise not to get too Hungry, too Angry, too Lonely, too Tired. This can be good advice for anyone, but for an alcoholic those things can be triggers for a relapse. Anyhow, I gave it to him today when he came in my shop. He was most appreciative and said he would hang it on the wall in his bedroom to help him keep his recovery top-of-mind.
W H Y
As I read Dave’s brief story and saw the H, the A, the L, the T it kind of rang a bell in me that sounded more like a siren on a dark night that promised no sleep; and I didn’t know if all of the sudden the sign was shaking or I was. . .
I won’t give you the statistics or the graphs; I won’t offer up the “You better watch out’s” or “Something’s got to be done’s” because we all know that we are way beyond all of that.
T H I S
is more than just some horrible pandemic. This is a tsunami wave that’s left no one dry and it just keeps washing up on shore after shore forever changing geographical landscapes; gashing out grave sites that look more like grotesquely unhealable wounds instead of serene places of rest. We have all be infected.
Just letters. . .
H
A
L
T
until they take on a deeper meaning
much more than any acronym
may be ever has. . .
MAYBE
it’s a sincere way to live a balanced life:
“. . .It’s meant to advise not to get too Hungry, too Angry, too Lonely, too Tired. This can be good advice for anyone. . .”
For now
I’m not so much inviting you
to bow your head
close your eyes
fold your hands
and bring your voice to a whisper
so much as to
OPEN YOUR EYES
HOLD UP YOUR HEAD
RAISE YOUR HANDS
AND SHOUT OUT:
a m e n
and
A M E N
THE VIDEO YOU WON’T WATCH BUT SHOULD
THIS IS ONE OF THE MOST IMPORTANT/HELPFUL/INSIGHTFUL MONDAY BLOG VIDEO’S I HAVE EVER POSTED IN THE PAST SEVEN YEARS AND THERE’S A REALLY GOOD CHANCE YOU WILL NEVER WATCH IT, BUT SHOULD
THE MOST IMPORTANT 10 1/2 minutes you can spend for this entire year and the rest of your life. . .
(Or NOT; YOU can go on, not connecting and worrying and fretting AD NAUSEAM)
IN THE END
There always seems to be this line in the sand that signals
THE FINISH LINE
. . .Pssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssst:
IT DOESN’T EXIST
I recently came across a beautiful poem by Tara Mohr that makes you understand better than any particular Blog Post. . .
It really got my brain cells spinning until this sputtered out:
What I learned most
is that I didn’t learn much
What I learned
I most likely forgot
sometimes instantly
or at least forgot to
Remember
It wasn’t so much
Where are my Keys
Where’d I put my phone
Where’s the remote control for the tv
The big lessons learned
“Don’t worry, it will be ok”
“Be Kind”
“Don’t take things so personally”
“Love is all”
“What matters, Matters”
“One out of One of us dies”
These are the Lessons
I had to take remedial classes
over and again
And having past the Tests
written the Master Thesis
finishing the Doctoral Dissertation
how have I failed
to act as if I’ve never known
anything
to have to learn each of these lessons
once more
with the surprise of the pop quiz
given just for showing up
Damn It
What I have learned most
I didn’t Learn much
I won’t be commanded to repeat
to be held back
The Baccalaureate Ceremony
has already begun
Commencement can’t be altered or stopped
Graduated
To What
To Where
To a Newness
Known
just not fully re-membered
R E M E M B E R
THE SAND AND THE FOAM
The Sand And The Foam – Dan Fogelberg Inspired by Khalil Gibran’s book “Sand and Foam”. from The Innocent Age Album (released 1981) (The Sand And The Foam Lyrics)
Dawn, like an angel, lights on the step Muting the morning she heralds Dew on the grass like the tears the night wept Gone long before the day wears old (Chorus) Time stills the singing a child holds so dear And I’m just beginning to hear Gone are the pathways the child followed home Gone like the sand and the foam Pressed in the pages of some aging text Lies an old lily a-crumbling Marking a moment of childish respects Long since betrayed and forgotten (Chorus) (Repeat First Verse and Chorus) Gone like the sand Gone like the sand Gone like the sand and the foam
I remember getting this vinyl album (AND I STILL HAVE IT) when it was first released in 1981. I was a little over a year of being ordained and used it for youth group workshops when we talked about LIFE and yes, DEATH.
It was 13 years before I began my journey as a hospice chaplain and I’ve heard it countless times since 1981 and have it on multiple playlists I play. It takes on an entirely different meaning to me now some 28 years later, long down my hospice journey road.
When it popped up randomly the other day, I was sitting in a parking lot of a Walmart with 33 minutes before a funeral I was going to conduct. I wonder if Fogelberg was thinking about his own life/death and the ever-so-brief frailty and quickness of life. He died in 2007 after battling advanced prostate cancer for three years.
AGAIN…the words took on a different meaning for me.
As I kept hitting repeat
REPEATEDLY
these words came to my shore
and hopefully now will ebb up on yours
As we do our own dance with
The Sand and the Foam:
YOU CAN’T BE LATE FOR MY FUNERALIt may be too cold
Rainy
or a snow that wants to imitate it
It may be hot
With a humidity that begs for a breeze
not to be found
It may be greening Spring
a Summer’s hued sunset
A Fall’s Frosted pumpkin morning
Or a Winter’s pristine glistening white snowfall afternoon
You can’t be late for my funeral
It’s been indefinitely canceled
Postponed for a day
that doesn’t exist
You can’t be late for my funeral
because there’ll be no celebration of my life
No curious resurrection
If something never ended
but continued on in other ongoing ways
What makes for a HAPPY ENDING
is knowing there’s never an
everlasting one
LABORED DAYS
Muhammad Mashali was a doctor who treated Egypt’s poorest citizens completely free of charge for 50 years.
Mashali passed away in 2020 at the age of 76.
He spent 12 hours a day in the clinic and received 30-50 patients a day. Not only did a line of people form in front of his ambulance every day, people would approach him on the street and he would give them medical advice. Dr. Muhammad Mashali never had a car or even a telephone. He walked from home to work.
When a rich man heard about his story, he gave him $20,000, a car and an apartment. But a year later, when his benefactor returned to Egypt, he learned that the doctor had sold his car to help poor patients and bought new medical equipment.
When Muhammad Mashali graduated from Cairo Medical School in 1967, he explained why he wanted to sacrifice himself for the good of others:
“My father sacrificed his life so that I could become a doctor. Then I promised God that I would not take a penny from the poor and live a life of service to people of all cultures and religions.”
BUT LABOR DAY WAS THIS PAST MONDAY. . .
or may be
it’s today
or any day
you wake up
to be
A Caring Catalyst
NOT AGAIN. . .
but
O N C E
M O R E. . .
MAKE YOUR JOB
SOMEONE’S PLEASURE. . .
THE POETRY IN US ALL
Back in March I took a Challenge to write 15 poems of 15 lines or less in 10 days and it got turned into a Chapbook that to my surprised someone found when they Googled me and got sent Amazon. . .
In April, National Poetry Month, there was another Challenge to write 30 poems in 30 days with the top three winners getting a publishing contract with Local Gems Press; uhhhhhhhhh, I didn’t finish among the top three but the there’s more to FINISHING than completing a project or subjectively placing into a top three tier that has a poetic justice of itself. . .
I have piles of legal pads with poems or bits pieces of them all over the place, often spilling out of folders and books that surprise me with the horror/delight of:
“I WROTE THAT?”
I’ve known for a long time that I think in poetry, mostly one-liners that pop up in the middle of the night, or during a conversation or while I’m reading, walking, meditating, listening to music or hearing the story someone whotrusts me with as I sit at their bedside or hospital room or coffee shop as I listen to their lives spilling out. . .
These little pop up bubbles are blank but for brief moments as they hover above my head but they are more heart-thoughts than head-scratchers or mind-blowers and they are unstoppable. . .
They are a Blood Letting that literally allows my heart to beat better; please know, it’s NOT FOR PUBLICATION. . .that’s a poor excuse, I’ve found for writing. WRITING for WRITING, because it can’t be helped; can’t be stopped; won’t be dammed up; is a form of happiness I’ve yet to find in other ways that have uncovered this truth:
I WILL DIE WITH WORDS LEFT IN ME, NO MATTER HOW MUCH
I WRITE/SELF-PUBLISH/SHARE
Do you feel that? Know of it? Feel like joining me?
Well, here’s the Challenge. . .
Autumn Poetry Chapbook Challenge – Local Gems Press (localgemspoetrypress.com)
Who knows. . .
Maybe that Blank page which calls for you
is exactly what
Someone
needs to read. .
FIND OUT
- « Previous Page
- 1
- …
- 21
- 22
- 23
- 24
- 25
- …
- 48
- Next Page »