Sunday, October 28, 2007
Life continues on quietly.
Ursula K. Le Guin's The Dispossessed is the current fare, just started. It certainly has a good reputation. We'll see how it goes.
Playing my acoustic guitar a bit lately. I feel old licks coming back, and some new ones forming. Nice to be back in that space.
Meditation is serving me well, especially in the cool mornings the last two weekends out by the pond. There is a lot going on there that's easy to miss while walking, but that one sees while sitting. It makes for crystalline moments.
Finished watching It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World with the kids. I love that style of humor. Great movie for the children, too.
I note that the Middle East and politics drone on. Blah, blah, blah. I don't have anything else to say about it for now.
Hewlett-Packard put out a new old-style calculator, the hp-35s. Nice little machine for all the geeks out there, of which I am one. My fascination with hp's calculators dates from engineering school and does seem persistant. Those little computers—because that's all they really are—make me smile for some reason.
Ursula K. Le Guin's The Dispossessed is the current fare, just started. It certainly has a good reputation. We'll see how it goes.
Playing my acoustic guitar a bit lately. I feel old licks coming back, and some new ones forming. Nice to be back in that space.
Meditation is serving me well, especially in the cool mornings the last two weekends out by the pond. There is a lot going on there that's easy to miss while walking, but that one sees while sitting. It makes for crystalline moments.
Finished watching It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World with the kids. I love that style of humor. Great movie for the children, too.
I note that the Middle East and politics drone on. Blah, blah, blah. I don't have anything else to say about it for now.
Hewlett-Packard put out a new old-style calculator, the hp-35s. Nice little machine for all the geeks out there, of which I am one. My fascination with hp's calculators dates from engineering school and does seem persistant. Those little computers—because that's all they really are—make me smile for some reason.
Monday, October 22, 2007
I'm going to re-post some things over in Serpentinarium where I think they fit better. I'll also try to use the the two blogs more as I intended when they were created, something I got away from.
A couple movies:
Flags of Our Fathers is a film that evoked a real meloncholy in me about war. By the end of it, and in light of the present situation, the most I can say about war is that I've never been involved, don't know anything about it, and shouldn't offer any opinion on it. While I may offer some sort of thought on political ideals, situations, and the like, those aren't war. Any time my position on an issue would imply war, I need to think long and hard about what I know and don't know and the people who are affected by people like me.
On a much lighter side, Buster Keaton's The General is a wonderful film from the silent era, a delight from start to finish. I remember watching a much older Keaton in short films when I was a child and only recently have learned how highly regarded he is. Roger Ebert's review of The General works as a great prelude to the film itself. Enjoy!
Flags of Our Fathers is a film that evoked a real meloncholy in me about war. By the end of it, and in light of the present situation, the most I can say about war is that I've never been involved, don't know anything about it, and shouldn't offer any opinion on it. While I may offer some sort of thought on political ideals, situations, and the like, those aren't war. Any time my position on an issue would imply war, I need to think long and hard about what I know and don't know and the people who are affected by people like me.
On a much lighter side, Buster Keaton's The General is a wonderful film from the silent era, a delight from start to finish. I remember watching a much older Keaton in short films when I was a child and only recently have learned how highly regarded he is. Roger Ebert's review of The General works as a great prelude to the film itself. Enjoy!
Friday, October 19, 2007
The Sound of Music makes me cry every time I watch it and I think I finally know why:
At a critical turning point in the story, a man that, in his grief and loneliness, was cold and harsh with his children and others is made aware of it and realizes the harm that he'd done. He ernestly regrets it and apologizes. The apology is accepted and he's forgiven. Reconciliation occurs and the movie shows the joy that ensues. The process of apology, forgiveness, and reconciliation is something I never saw in my home as a child. Now, I'm fully aware that life cannot and should not always be like the movies, but let's also acknowledge this: Stories in movies are drawn from experiences in life. Ignorance of this process has cost me and people around me and is something to grieve.
It's also something to correct as I grow and learn new ways to live.
At a critical turning point in the story, a man that, in his grief and loneliness, was cold and harsh with his children and others is made aware of it and realizes the harm that he'd done. He ernestly regrets it and apologizes. The apology is accepted and he's forgiven. Reconciliation occurs and the movie shows the joy that ensues. The process of apology, forgiveness, and reconciliation is something I never saw in my home as a child. Now, I'm fully aware that life cannot and should not always be like the movies, but let's also acknowledge this: Stories in movies are drawn from experiences in life. Ignorance of this process has cost me and people around me and is something to grieve.
It's also something to correct as I grow and learn new ways to live.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Yesterday, I fell into the trap of my own making:
I let someone's suffering create fear in me, fear that got the better of me and pushed my mind out of the moment into the past and future. While in the past, I grieved sins committed by and against me; while in the future, I feared suffering that may come to pass and grieved good things that may not come to pass.
The lesson is this: Stop clinging to what I desire someone to be. Then I can see them as they really are and be compassionate toward them. Then fear won't arise and I'll be able to stay in the present where I have everything I need in this moment.
What seems like a cold thing to do, that is, to let go of that desire regarding someone, will actually let me love them rather than my deluded view of them.
Certainly, this has to be the way to live.
I let someone's suffering create fear in me, fear that got the better of me and pushed my mind out of the moment into the past and future. While in the past, I grieved sins committed by and against me; while in the future, I feared suffering that may come to pass and grieved good things that may not come to pass.
The lesson is this: Stop clinging to what I desire someone to be. Then I can see them as they really are and be compassionate toward them. Then fear won't arise and I'll be able to stay in the present where I have everything I need in this moment.
What seems like a cold thing to do, that is, to let go of that desire regarding someone, will actually let me love them rather than my deluded view of them.
Certainly, this has to be the way to live.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Nissan's Pivo 2 concept car really sparks my imagination. It has electic motors on each wheel which allows it to drive sideways to facilitate parking. It's symmetrical fore and aft in terms of running gear and the cockpit rotates all the way around. Nicely done.
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
An old friend is in the hospital. His health declined over the last 15 years and I wonder if he'll come back out. He's done his best in a very difficult situation for a long time.
In the same vein, my father, now an old man, is fading, too, after seeming so timeless to my eyes. Confusion keeps him dependent now on people to help him get from place to place.
I pray for them and the wisdom to do the right thing by my family and friends.
In the same vein, my father, now an old man, is fading, too, after seeming so timeless to my eyes. Confusion keeps him dependent now on people to help him get from place to place.
I pray for them and the wisdom to do the right thing by my family and friends.
Monday, October 08, 2007
Fun with fear:
The spillway of the pond I live by sprung a leak at the very bottom. After the water dropped about five feet, it stabilized, giving me time to think of what to do. Not having a clear idea of the solution, I procrastinated a good month. Dragging out the boat just seemed like too much trouble, so I elected to do what any 10 year old would do: Crawl through the three foot diameter pipe under the dam into the spillway and do the work there.
So be it.
Cutting briars away from the mouth of the pipe for a few minutes opened the way. So I stood there and looked. And looked. After a comforting walk back to the house to fetch a flashlight in a plastic bag, I fidgeted around for a while thinking about that creepy dark conduit. Twenty minutes of arranging and re-arranging my cargo later, I climbed in and made my way to the spillway, itself a little creepy, since I was standing essentially under water that's only kept out by a bunch of boards that close the gap in concrete walls. I figured I wouldn't drown with ten feet of water coming in, but I'd probably get skinned up pretty good going through that pipe at 20 miles an hour. That idea always gives me the creeps, not to say anything about memories from childhood of water moccasins laying around the mouth of the pipe I just cleared. It was shady and cool so I didn't think they'd be waiting for me. Well, probably not.
I arrived at my destination lugging fifty pounds of old pink double bed blanket, totally soaked from its trip through the pipe. I couldn't keep it out of the water because my other hand was occupied carrying a machete. Just in case. I wanted to be able to deal with whatever was in that pipe that I could see while holding the flashlight in my mouth. Of course, I wouldn't drop the light while screaming.
There was the leak, a jet of water at the bottom, shooting into standing water, noisily churning it away.
I climbed up the inside of the boards that cover the gap. Forty-five year old re-bars, set in the concrete and spanning the gap behind the boards, some rusted thin, provided a suspicious ladder. A hunk of brick in folded in one corner of the blanket to make it sink it where I wanted was tied in place with a thin rope. Using the rope, I lowered the blanket into the water in front of the boards, slowly letting it sink down the face toward the leak. The rope payed out slowly and then zip: The churning stopped. I looked down and a wad of blanket was sticking into the now quiet standing water. Presto: Leak fixed.
That took about five minutes.
I wonder what the month and the twenty minutes were for?
The spillway of the pond I live by sprung a leak at the very bottom. After the water dropped about five feet, it stabilized, giving me time to think of what to do. Not having a clear idea of the solution, I procrastinated a good month. Dragging out the boat just seemed like too much trouble, so I elected to do what any 10 year old would do: Crawl through the three foot diameter pipe under the dam into the spillway and do the work there.
So be it.
Cutting briars away from the mouth of the pipe for a few minutes opened the way. So I stood there and looked. And looked. After a comforting walk back to the house to fetch a flashlight in a plastic bag, I fidgeted around for a while thinking about that creepy dark conduit. Twenty minutes of arranging and re-arranging my cargo later, I climbed in and made my way to the spillway, itself a little creepy, since I was standing essentially under water that's only kept out by a bunch of boards that close the gap in concrete walls. I figured I wouldn't drown with ten feet of water coming in, but I'd probably get skinned up pretty good going through that pipe at 20 miles an hour. That idea always gives me the creeps, not to say anything about memories from childhood of water moccasins laying around the mouth of the pipe I just cleared. It was shady and cool so I didn't think they'd be waiting for me. Well, probably not.
I arrived at my destination lugging fifty pounds of old pink double bed blanket, totally soaked from its trip through the pipe. I couldn't keep it out of the water because my other hand was occupied carrying a machete. Just in case. I wanted to be able to deal with whatever was in that pipe that I could see while holding the flashlight in my mouth. Of course, I wouldn't drop the light while screaming.
There was the leak, a jet of water at the bottom, shooting into standing water, noisily churning it away.
I climbed up the inside of the boards that cover the gap. Forty-five year old re-bars, set in the concrete and spanning the gap behind the boards, some rusted thin, provided a suspicious ladder. A hunk of brick in folded in one corner of the blanket to make it sink it where I wanted was tied in place with a thin rope. Using the rope, I lowered the blanket into the water in front of the boards, slowly letting it sink down the face toward the leak. The rope payed out slowly and then zip: The churning stopped. I looked down and a wad of blanket was sticking into the now quiet standing water. Presto: Leak fixed.
That took about five minutes.
I wonder what the month and the twenty minutes were for?
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Drinking the waters of the Way today. . .
Lunch with an old friend, soothing words of Christ.
A daughter's birthday, celebrated with song, returned by a radiant countenance.
Cooking for little ones, helping hands with mischievous grins.
Cradling darkness, quiet warmth of the little ones drifting off.
Familiar strings, an old song, callouses found anew, nice notes laughing.
Lao Tzu's wisdom, images of serenity.
A candle, incense, a bell: Quiet sitting, inward looking.
Smiles on a familiar face, decades of affection, quiet and warm.
Simple things.
Life.
Peace to all.
Lunch with an old friend, soothing words of Christ.
A daughter's birthday, celebrated with song, returned by a radiant countenance.
Cooking for little ones, helping hands with mischievous grins.
Cradling darkness, quiet warmth of the little ones drifting off.
Familiar strings, an old song, callouses found anew, nice notes laughing.
Lao Tzu's wisdom, images of serenity.
A candle, incense, a bell: Quiet sitting, inward looking.
Smiles on a familiar face, decades of affection, quiet and warm.
Simple things.
Life.
Peace to all.
Monday, October 01, 2007
Ethereal music, lyrics in a language I don't understand, takes me now to a place of quiet reflection at my keyboard.
I saw a comment on Serpentinarium that I had moderated but forgotten about and realized I haven't talked to that person in a while. I treasure the connections in life. This one crosses an ocean. I've missed the little spark that always happened when I saw the words coming to me from thousands of miles away.
Wistful am I, listening still.
I saw a comment on Serpentinarium that I had moderated but forgotten about and realized I haven't talked to that person in a while. I treasure the connections in life. This one crosses an ocean. I've missed the little spark that always happened when I saw the words coming to me from thousands of miles away.
Wistful am I, listening still.
Yesterday,
Morning meditation outside in cool fall.
Bird flittered in trees,
Squirrels scampered branch to branch,
Scrabbled in dry leaves on ground.
Cars on distant road, tires breathed the speed.
Planes a thousand feet in sky, homed to earth,
Air whipping and whistling, followed aluminum wings.
Signs of life outside,
Sang to life inside.
Morning meditation outside in cool fall.
Bird flittered in trees,
Squirrels scampered branch to branch,
Scrabbled in dry leaves on ground.
Cars on distant road, tires breathed the speed.
Planes a thousand feet in sky, homed to earth,
Air whipping and whistling, followed aluminum wings.
Signs of life outside,
Sang to life inside.
