Politicians & Promises

Is anybody else tired of the constant stream of rhetoric, unsolicited political emails, biased news articles, and attack-mode advertisements?

The pitch of politicians has inspired me to make a few promises of my own. From now on:

• I promise to delete unread, any political email sent to me by any political party or candidate on any political topic.
• I promise to recycle unread, any political articles and ads in the newspaper and in magazines.
• I promise to change the channel when any political pitch hits the airwaves in my car.
• I promise to mute the sound when a political advertisement is broadcast on television.

In short, I want all the character-slamming innuendo that is being called a presidential campaign out of my sight, out of my hearing and out of my thinking -- because the negativity is driving me out of my mind.

If there is a candidate that would simply stand up and say, "this is who I am, this is what I believe, this is what I will do..." I would vote for that person.

Or wait a minute -- maybe not. Because maybe that is what they are doing already. Maybe who they are, what they believe and what they will do is exactly what they are already saying and doing.

A sad discovery!

Thoughts in the Night

Rethinking facebook...
It is addictive.Yet with every passing day,there is an unsettling loss growing within. Logging on, I'm immediately met with updates on my myriad of 'friends' -- people I know (and some I want to know) but don't really know. Their numbers grow, providing a false perception of relational-ism -- they are my 'friends' -- but what do I really know about them? Other than knowing that they are 'contemplating the universe" or "taking a break" or "happy for the weekend."

Two friends overseas actually talk about life in a different culture and the pictures of friends at a distance are good reminders. But the vast majority of these 'friendships' are spread out over a thin veneer of depth. There is no requirement to invest in their lives beyond benign comments. I don't know their joys and sorrows. We are not pilgrims together, finding meaning along life's path.

Rather, we are glib, cyber-drive-by-commenters skimming the surface of life. It makes me -- not bitter -- but deeply sad -- this psuedo sharing of the insignificant.

We dare not ask the hard questions like:
What does life mean?
Why am I here?
How can I make a difference?

Instead we feature new notches on our friend belts, snapshots, games, flair buttons and lists of where we've been.

I am the worst offender of relationship-lite!

But every night, in the half-light between wake and sleep, there is a pinch of sadness --
for not encouraging my friend in her faith journey,
for forgetting to affirm the young mom who puts family first,
for sending 'I-heart-you' buttons to the niece who would do better with personal attention.

Facebook -- merely faces with books that gloss over the real stuff of life and relationship. I'm not giving up on it, but...

...let there be more than this, is my prayer,
...let us be truly present,
...let us make even a small difference that resounds in eternity
...let it be so!

Halcyon Days

what riches --

waking to sherbet sunrise,

hearing deer dance on

broken branches

as they make their

way to water,

watching leaves

flutter their 'good morning'

to the sky.

what wealth --

witnessing light

that flirts with

liquid lake

at midday.

what treasure --

listening as

loons call

fond farewells

as day slips below

honeyed horizon.

There was also This, This, and This

What Happened to Summer?

Where did August go? I don't know... just looked up and it was September. All ideas about blogging were left in a cloud of good intentions as the woods called my name! But it was good -- so good!

The Wild Woods

The orderly part
of this perfectionist
would manicure
the wild woods,
correcting corners
where tree fall
mars magnificent views.
But the wild woman
knows in her soul
that as things have
always been
they shall be,
and true beauty
includes moss,
moisture,
hollow logs
and yes,
mosquitoes.

Vacation Songs

Ditch is dense with daisies --
bright faces,
pristine collars.
Intent on collecting a share
to shimmer up
my woodland table,
I fail to notice
just beyond my bent form
a fragile fawn
comes slowly forward,
as if she recognizes
the Collector of All Things Orphaned--
puppies,
posies,
people.
Locking looks
we recognize each other,
motherless child and
childless mother.

Songs From The Road

Travels lead to many places, outside and in. Often, it seems one repeats the same journey--but careful observation reveals new ways of seeing, understanding, being. Here's one from the road...



The Journey

Ribbon of road rises before,
lifts sight,
connects earth and air.
No separation between
path and perspective
as though the journey
from here to heaven
holds horizon
as translucent,
passable,
simple as
next step.
I have traveled this road
and more.
Once knew it well,
but now see
beyond blue
in the sky of your eyes.