america will never be destroyed from the outside
if we falter and lose our freedoms
it will be because
we destroyed ourselves
from the inside
Abraham Lincoln
t h e p e r f e c t s t o r m
sometimes our leaders get it right
maybe there's something inside them
that points them - in the right direction
where suddenly
everything makes total sense again
and they run with it because
it just feels right
without hope, we have
nothing
.
this post is inspired
by my very first “zen experience”
(religious experience? ok if you feel more comfortable with that)
there have been a few since
rare - but yes real
and all because
this one
still rings true
.
it was early spring 1985
unusually warm, but still that familiar
chill in the air
in a whisper of wishful thinking
my younger brother and i bought
two kites
and on a beautiful sunny Saturday afternoon
we trekked down to the Thames River near Woodstock Ontario
to fly them
to fly them
David
always had a way with these things
as his kite went up effortlessly and in
minutes
he laid back on the grass
lit
up a smoke and watched it sail
beautifully over the river
i struggled with mine for at least an hour
it crashed several times in a plowed, muddy
field
this is such fucking bullshit - literally
tired, sweating - ok fresh manure
all over my new running shoes
hello ? frikkin pissed
the line is tangled - yet again
this is such fucking bullshit - literally
tired, sweating - ok fresh manure
all over my new running shoes
hello ? frikkin pissed
the line is tangled - yet again
when i finally did manage to get it up
(no pun intended)... it wasn’t
positioned right
it was over the field,
not the river
i continued to struggle
with it
until i eventually lost my patience
and tied the damned thing to a
bush
not caring - if it crashed again
frustrated and defeated, i went for a walk
along the rivers edge
when i turned to look
a couple of minutes later
i was shocked to see that my kite was
gliding beautifully
over the river
.
the path of least resistance
was never an option growing up
like it's just a bad idea - "the easy way never works"
as kids we're told that everything 'good' in life
is something that we must struggle, fight for
die for
learning otherwise as i age
better late than never
.
there is this thing that happens
peeking in when we're secretly expecting it
that timely sign - signal
that familiar voice ... "good night baby-girl"
later, that haunting glance from someone on the street, earlier that day
that old song in a vintage diner on queen east
stepping in to get out of the cold wet wind
dream catching our curious cradle
while we cry to sleep
being carried to safety in a new orbit
with Daddy again
the trippy trigger happy holiday holocaust
that changes everything
question is - do I pay attention - listen
or ignore it?
.
it's that moment when we pass into our midnight slumber
those few seconds when we tumble into terror
trembling and yet flickering
seeing something - not seen before
a vision - awakening briefly - wow
relishing it's return
our first real dream of the night
(back and into a second and third - bittersweet sequels)
is usually the most endearing
in that it exposes our
telling truth
an affirmation arrival - approval upheaval
captivating - cautious - curious
pointing us in a new direction
in absence of the tragedies and injustices of this world
the dark headlines instilling fear
in a healing tear
in reverence
of a fond remembrance
of all that worked right
his soft voice caressing you
telling you that it's going
to be ok
when all the constellations are aligned
that music composition where the production and performance
the timing - nailing it
almost effortlessly
dog is in - kids are in bed
free to wonder - imagine
Dad is gone
looking out in awe, years later
at the twisted triangulation, and yet
being at peace with
listening to
t h e p e r f e c t s t o r m
over the river
.
the path of least resistance
was never an option growing up
like it's just a bad idea - "the easy way never works"
as kids we're told that everything 'good' in life
is something that we must struggle, fight for
die for
learning otherwise as i age
better late than never
.
there is this thing that happens
peeking in when we're secretly expecting it
that timely sign - signal
that familiar voice ... "good night baby-girl"
later, that haunting glance from someone on the street, earlier that day
that old song in a vintage diner on queen east
stepping in to get out of the cold wet wind
dream catching our curious cradle
while we cry to sleep
being carried to safety in a new orbit
with Daddy again
the trippy trigger happy holiday holocaust
that changes everything
question is - do I pay attention - listen
or ignore it?
.
it's that moment when we pass into our midnight slumber
those few seconds when we tumble into terror
trembling and yet flickering
seeing something - not seen before
a vision - awakening briefly - wow
relishing it's return
our first real dream of the night
(back and into a second and third - bittersweet sequels)
is usually the most endearing
in that it exposes our
telling truth
an affirmation arrival - approval upheaval
captivating - cautious - curious
pointing us in a new direction
in absence of the tragedies and injustices of this world
the dark headlines instilling fear
in a healing tear
in reverence
of a fond remembrance
of all that worked right
his soft voice caressing you
telling you that it's going
to be ok
when all the constellations are aligned
that music composition where the production and performance
the timing - nailing it
almost effortlessly
dog is in - kids are in bed
free to wonder - imagine
Dad is gone
looking out in awe, years later
at the twisted triangulation, and yet
being at peace with
listening to
t h e p e r f e c t s t o r m
expose yourself to your deepest fear
after that, fear has no power and it's freedom shrinks
vanishing
Jim Morrison
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