Our First Anniversary

In our spiritual journey, finding a church congregation about which we are equally enthusiastic is a novelty and a major source of light, joy and solace. 

Thank you to all who played a part.

A Dream Fragment: Dust in the Wind

I left work yesterday at 3:00 p.m. (went sailing). I come into the office this morning and the big room has been cleared. File cabinets, sample merchandise, furniture -- all gone, except for a few scraps of paper and other detritus. All I see are unfamiliar faces. I don't see my office mates: looking through the locked glass door I don't see Dave and Danny. But our desks are not disturbed. I encounter Charlie, who hired me 10+ years ago. He looks slimmer & younger and much better dressed than ever. He's working for the FBI now. (He was fired 1½ years ago. We acknowledge that we know no one milling around. Finally, some bare acquaintance comes up to me and we whisper together, struggling with the words, talking around but not uttering certain obvious ones ("fired", "terminated", "laid-off"). I struggle to hear what she is saying to me, leaning even closer to her. (Those hearing aids can't come too soon!) Finally, one or the other of us murmurs, "We're dust". But deep inside, I am sensing a strong impulse to be one of the survivors: that old aspiration to be among the last ones standing! Because, when it's over, it's over. Then, a meeting is called in a conference room. My acquaintance and I don't know whether we should go in and sit in the back (of course), or just watch at the door. We have to decide quickly, before the door closes....

The Ocean Is My Only Medication

Arlington West

I participated in this project during the previous presidential administration, when it was held every Sunday. For sometime it has been restricted to one Sunday a month. I've joined the duty roster, and will fit in whenever I can. Been AWOL for too long. The photo on the lower right is that of an old tennis buddy of mine.

MKP

I am re-tooling. I want to be able to tell myself the truth of who I am. I need more sight. More insight. New eyes. It's seeming worth the fear of the unknown to try on some new bifocals. I'm at that point in my life where and when I have to try something new. What makes this a forced challenge is the current invitation. I cannot, a small voice inside tells me, afford to decline it or even postpone it. It feels right. For a long time, "I don't like adventures" has been my slogan. I'm not thinking of 86-ing this habit of mind now; just maybe testing it.

Waking from Dream at Five A.M.

I am following the end of the road north of LaVerne California, into the hills. I have the impression that there was a canyon up in them there hills. However, for all the decades I lived in Claremont, I never had a look-see. Growing up in Colorado, I don't do hills, valleys, mountains so much.

Anyways, in this dream. I park my car, walk past all the warning signs and follow a path down to a lookout precipice. When I get to the end, almost between the toes in my sandals, I can look down upon homes, streets, yards, uncultivated pastures and a meandering stream. Everything appears in distinct swaths of different colors. I could end it here, I think. They would find my body in pieces. If I crumbled away the edge, it could even be construed as an accident. My relatives do not frequent this spot, so their lives would not be afflicted with this haunted location.

I turn away from this perfect destination, wake up, and stagger off to the toilet to relieve my ever-pestering bladder....