The Missing

If you’ve lived with dementia in any way, take comfort from this. Wow. As I listened, thinking about my Mom and others in my life, I smiled some. We’re the one’s who choose to suffer, I think. The loss is more ours than their’s after a time. And as real as it is, wouldn’t we better off focusing, in an almost viciously selfish way, on what was? I think so.

I don’t miss them anymore. Or any less.



Looking West Across The Hudson From Mt. Rutsen
This is where I was able to take a lunch break the other day. Looking west across the Hudson River, the Kingston-Rhinecliff Bridge in the distance. From very near* the top of the fire tower on Mt. Rutsen in the Ferncliff Forest Preserve, Rhinebeck, New York, USA. *A swarm of bees/hornets kept me from the summit. It was a warm afternoon in the Hudson Valley.

Just when you think you need to run and escape it all, you stop to breath a moment, and find this.

Parker J. Palmer on Prophets

If what we believe is easy, and makes us comfortable and content, than we’re fooling ourselves. Painting pictures in the sand, and hoping against the tide.

Memo to Myself: Avoid Domesticating Our Prophets | On Being.


Desert_Rose_LabyrinthThere are I think,  places that excite us. 
Places that are filled with life, and  light. 
Thin spaces they're called by some.
Spaces that call us,  invite us.  Come. 
Mountaintops,  that tree,  a child's smile. 
The labyrinth of our life,  so much of it vile;
Leads us to thinness, to places, to thoughts, 
and feelings of a closeness we've sought. 
Call it Divine, God, Spirit, Karma , Power, King. 
Accept the offered. The thinness. Come.