Snowdrops and Crocuses

I love snowdrops and crocuses, the signs of spring and harbingers of summer to come. .  The days grow longer with increasing light. I hear more bird songs as returning species join in the morning choirs. .  I love most the buds and sprouts, poking up from the soil with snow still on the ground. They’re as mpatient as me to lap up the new rays of sunshine.

I long for my T-shirts, shorts and sandals. I love to see the  lady butterflies divest  their  winter clothings cocoons,  leggings and nylons,  shed like old snake skins. 

Everyone smiles more. Steps are lighter. Sensual. 

I believe.I have hope.  My  faith grows stronger.  I relax.  I struggle less. It’s all just coming along.  Each day a little more light. A little more spring.  Life is all so much more appealing.   Even now, in the morning I see the sky lighten  sooner. More  days there’s  blue sky, no snow,  less  rain.

The Bagpipes of Robbie Burns Dinner have heralded the new spring.   Next we’ll have Valentine’s Day. The great spring love fest, kisses and skin to skin contact. That long awaited precurser to the autumn baby boom.  The songs of birds returning, the rumble of street motorcycles.  The  Tulip Festival.  Frazer Valley. Skagit Valley.   The explosion of colour that wakens the mind.  Finally the Cherry blossoms that turn the universe a forgiving pink. 

Hiking,  camping, all the outdoor summer activities begin again. Fireworks. Fishing. Lake and ocean swimming, beach bathing,  lawn chairs and summer books, read in the late day sun. Kool aid.  It all begins with snowdrops and crocuses.

  

Up early Tuesday

I woke early and refreshed. Gilbert had joined me on the bed for an extended belly rub.  It’s the day he stays home from work.  I decided to walk him before prayer and meditation.
There was no rain. I bundled up and noticed several cars leaving so early. The people on public dole don’t seem to know about the early bird getting the worm. I admire these early risers off to day jobs or shift work.

We see so many people on the streets and homeless and when I take their work history its too often like hearing an adolescent child’s history. Work is suiting up and showing up. It’s the grind. It’s keeping on going when you don’t want to.  It’s resilience.  It’s like all relationships.  We pay for the good times by being there through the te drum (tedium) Work is these guys and girls up in the dark heading out in the darkness for 8 to 12 hours.  Labouring, working heavy equipment, doing construction, painting, working for the pay, working for the sense of duty and worthwhile ness of contributing.
Working to be punished by gouging taxes for the irresponsible elite who give it away to the least deserving.   I don’t believe in ‘cash cows’.  I believe free money like our Prime Minister gives away late at night to American talk show hosts and the billions he ‘loses’ in middle east hand outs is just wrong. I believe there is a really bad place in hell for this type of politician.  There are of course good politicians and good statemen but he isn’t one.  He’s a bad actor. A joker.
 I believe in work and reward for work and don’t at all respect this lazy vacationing loud mouth immoral unethical pretty sock boy.  I don’t like his association with dictators on his love for the UN Agenda 21 communist dictatorship take over. It’s demoralizing.  I don’t like the kick backs for taking certain types for migrants whose dictator overlords want to be rid of the people who would overthrow them.  

I enjoy walking Gilbert.  Laura and I figure there’s a dog in the area in heat because he just lingers in certain places like his channel changer nose hit Pornhub.  Tinder and instagram appeal to the dog within. 

I’m thankful for the morning. I’m thankful for elections but the Conservative line up is looking fairly grim, yesterday’s news. The best of the best in my mind are already stepping down making me think the Liberal / Conservative party division is just an illusion.  It’s all controlled by Toronto Montreal ‘girls in the backroom’.  There’s merely an illusion of choice.  Colonial Broadcasting Company.  Canada a colony with the whole election system rigged by Trudeau in the 70’s to guarantee Quebec and Urban Montreal and Toronto dominance. Both parties one of the same. Agenda 21.  The bureaucrats are Liberal leaning.  Socialists and communists.  One in the same. The bird has two wings left and right but attached to the same body. Big Government. Waste. Control. Taxes and corruption.  Fat cats and snakes in suit. The swamp. That’s all we have now.  Plus a buffoon as head of state suggesting politics would be a good career goal for the mentally deficient.
Just rigged mental sports.  

Oh well, it’s all above my pay level. I trust in God. God is good all the time.  

Psalm 138:7 KJV

Though I walk in the midst of trouble, thou will revive me.: thou shalt stretch forth thine hand against the wrath of mine enemies, and thy right hand shall save me.

That’s the verse today.  I must obey the great commandment of Jesus.  Do not be afraid.  

Thank you Lord for this day. Thank you for the wifi and electronics. Thank you for Facebook and it’s myriad irritations. Thank you for the mental sports show called politics. Thank you for the entertaining lies called ‘NEWS’. Thank you for all the distractions that I muddle about in each day. Mostly thank you for family and friends and keep them well. Especially help those I know in hospital today.
Thank you for Gilbert and Laura and bagpipes. Thank you for motorcycles , cars and trucks. Thank you for walks along country streams. Thank you for sunshine and stars. Thank you for loose clothing and indoor plumbing. Thank you for pretty girls and handsome men. Thank you for blessings and gifts and grace. Thank you for churches and schools and libraries.
Thank you for all the workers that keep the city going, the hydro workers, the water workers, the traffic workers, the police and nurses and doctors and law offices and plumbers and artists.
Thank you for the transsexuals and the LGBT community. Thank you for the pro life and pro choice folk. Thank you for all who are participating.
Thank you for those who get out of bed to day. Thank you for the party of life and city and the traffic and the whole shebang of ‘business’ and meet and greet and tools and wrenches and computers and internal combustion and solar panels and electricity. Thank you for thermodynamics.  Thank you for engineers and poets. Thank you Lord for the sky. Thank you Lord for the soil.
Thank you Lord for the plants. Thank you for sound and music. Thank you Lord for love making. Thank you Lord for skin. Thank you Lord for touch. Thank you Lord for sight and taste and hearing.

Now I’m going to get another cup of coffee.  I’m up so early I m not rushing and Gilberts gone back to sleep at my feet.  Thank you Lord for Gilbert.  Thank you lord for Baby Pictures and Dog Pictures on Facebook.

Saturday morning gratitude journal

Thank you Lord for this Saturday morning. I loved sleeping in till 8 am, meditating and exercising with no sense of being on the clock. I hugged the little guy twice and he came back for a belly rub. What a great room mate I have.!

I’ve had delicious Ethiopian coffee made with the stainless steel expresso machine, popped some naproxen, fish oil and vitamin D downing it  with cold  sparkling water from the fridge. 

.I’ve read my Facebook. 

 No climate catastrophe! There wasn’t a catastrophe yesterday either! 

 I did see on FB  a funny bicycle accident. Only pride hurt. A police dog had puppies.  No new wars.  The latest attack on the president by the unelected sore losers doesn’t look any better than the 5 years of fake news and false documents to date. 

Meanwhile in Canada the Liberal Party of Crime Families, Terrorists and Stoner  Quebec biker gangs is giving the angry little Trudeau the dictatorshiphe wants. All the bought media pointing the attention elsewhere.  Voted the most unethical PM in his history, the dope head spendthrift of all times. Oh well.  I’m worried about being homeless in old age with Huffington Post elite urban heartless girls at the helm, white male haters and nurse ratchet a commie street nurse kicking my sleeping bag, blaming me. ‘You took my life another elite teenager is screaming. 

Get my own mind in order.stop channeling Stephen King.  God is good and the good win in the end. The good book says, 

I’m thankful for today and what more can I ask.  There are so many other people fleeing from dictatorships and I’m worrying about all the loss of freedom in Canada in the last 5 years, gun control, hate speech legislation, Islamaphobia, all with euphemisms and ‘peace missile’ jargon.  I don’t know why sometimes I marched and stood up to criminals and bullies.  The psychopaths like George Soros seems to win but that’s all appearances. God is good all the time. 

I have to look on the bright side like the silly song says. Remember Culloden but remember Monty Python. The Chinese word for curse is blessing too.  It’s my job to see the good, and find the good.  Remember George and Marty and Steve and Dean and John and Stan and Hugh and all the guys laughing and struggling laughing and struggling. Keep up your end. That’s all you have to do. Lend a hand. Suit up and show up. Get out of your head. It’s a bad neighborhood. Don’t go into your mind a lone.

My friends say there are sprouts showing on  bulbs showing in the snow. The guy who likes daylight saving gets to share a cell with Count Vlad. 

My family is well. My brilliant nephews are shining.  My sister in law is an incredible mom and lady and PHD.  I’m blessed by the achievements and wonder of my friends.  Artists I know are creating incredible work, musicians and making fine music, writers writing great stories. I’m seeing people at work heal from terminal diseases. I loved the men and my men’s meeting, the laughter and stories of success.  One day at a time. 

The Chinese fentanyl attack is being countered with AMerican Made Narcan. Thank Opiant Pharmaceutical Corporation for defending the youth against the fentanyl epidemic. 

I loved being at the Vancouver Motorcycle Show remembering when I’d sat on the Electroglide there in 2012. I was only dreaming  of motorcycling to Sturges Motorcyvle Rally in the Black Hilo’s of South Dakota.  That was an adventure. I’ll forever remember the herds of antelope and bison and crossing  the great cowboy high country.  I loved Washington,  Montana, Idaho, Wyoming, Colorado and South Dakota.  What a ride!  How blessed can a person be.  

Today I just look forward to camping. I’ve a ride to Spokane in the summer . I’d like to ride to Daytona and honor my brother. That was Ron’s dream when he rode a motorcycle. Daytona Beach the all round motorcycle rally. Ron was a Yamaha man. 

Mostly I’m longing for camping by mountain streams in the Adventuer camper with my KTM 690 enduro motorcycle. I love to explore the backwoods.Laura and Gilbert are great companions to come back to. They both prefer lounging around the camp.  She likes to read in the camper or on the lounger in the sun. Gilbert just loves the three of us together in the woods. I’m longing barbecue steak and potatoes. 

I’m also looking forward to seeing another baby. The fisher folk are expanding again.

I loved seeing my great nephew.

I’m blessed. It’s all Grace. 

I’m roasting more coffee beans. They’re dark brown already.

I think about going to Esprit again. Every year I think about going. One of these years. 

 I was planning on Oxford and Aberdeen this spring but have done enough flying for now.  I’ve got a wedding to attend this year. All I really want is a camping year. All I want to do really is camp.  I should fish more. I love catching fish. I’ve got to do more shooting. I love the zen of it. Zen and the art of archery was a great book but I’m more into Zen and the art of the 223 rifle or even better the 300 win mag short sniper rifle.

,And writing. I  got some projects to do. Ive also more tests and exams. I’m learning the final cut and garage band program (again). 

I’ve been coasting since India and Hay Bay. I was sick but that’s no excuse. I expect I want to be lazy so make myself sick.  

It a new year.I really did achieve almost all of what I’d planned last year. I really am blessed. Thank you God. Ive got my health and despite pain and fear and struggle I’ve continued to keep on trekking. As long as you’re moving they’re less likely to throw dirt on you. 

I’m alive and sober and out of jail and continue to pay off my mortgages.  I’ve paid my taxes and given the 50% or more that they take ,I really don’t like it ,being punished for being productive and seeing it  given away to terrorists criminals and the Justin Trudeau crime and clown family.  I don’t think it’s right that he’s not been charged with interfering in the court just like his arrogant communist father did. One law for me and another for the elite. Canada fast becoming another UN dictatorship.  The corruption is unprecedented. Probably not given Canadian politics, 

It’s stopped raining.I’ll walk Gilbert in the woods. 

Laura is coming over. We’re going to the Robbie Burns Dinner.  The heritage of Bruce and Hay and Wallace.  The Hay family have been fighting tyrants and terrorists for hundreds of years.  Christians have been persecuted from the start. I m blessed to know God , to have seen miracles, watched the dying revive, seen lives resurrect had spiritual awakening, been touched by Grace, and known the power of faith. I love spirituality. I have God within and Jesus by my side. What more can I want!

Well now that you ask. I’d like the new Harley Davidson Street Glide and the Mini Countryman and I might like my Ford F-350 in diesel?  Id like three months to go on a road trip south with the RV toy hauler, next winter or the winter after.I’d like another 3 month summer to sail my boat in the Islands or to the Atlantic,  either through the canal or up the St. Lawrence. I’d like to be a better doctor too.  I’d like to do the next right thing.

I like that I can dream. I like that my dreams are grand. I remember when I didn’t want to live. I remember when I didn’t know what to do with my wife who was killing herself and us with her addictions.  I remember when my friends betrayed us.  I remember when I felt helpless and powerless and didn’t think there was any way out because the corruption in my workplace was so extent and people were being killed and the killers were getting rich. andI was being accused of the deaths caused by others and when I was vindicated still saw that the authorities let them get away with murder. I was vindicated then as in so many other times. 

I love the Angel Michael Statue by the St. Thomas and Ganesh statues on the upper shelf. There’s Bills podium too and the magnets on the fridge to remind me of the St. Petersburg, Delphi and New York and Ireland.  I’d so like to go back to Ireland.  Laura and I had such a fUN driving around the old country. I’ve thought of living and working there. My mother loved her Irish heritage. 

Gilbert is great and he likes camping best.  sI want to camp when he can enjoy this too.  There was blue sky yesterday. The snows gone outside. I remember last year in the Frazer Valleyloving the flowers in the gardens as they began to appear this time of year. The daffodils, crocuses, the tulips until the cherry blossom finale. 

The tulip festival is coming. I best loved walking with Kevin and Anna, Laura and the kids and the dog. Gilbert thinks he’s a little boy.  He’s got his mates and the tulips are natural  LSD for the mind. Wakes the soul up.  It’s only weeks away.  I loved to riding down to the Skagi Valley on the Harley to see the tulips there. 

 I get my big motorcycle out of Trev Deely in March and the riding is great in April May and June.  If it lightens up today I might take a ride on the KTM. Maybe tomorrow. 

 Tonight is Robbie Burns, SFU Bagpies. That’s LSD for the mind piped in through the ears. A late winter wake up call. I love the Dancing and pipes and the Ode to the Haggis. Haggis! Tonight Ill eat Haggis . That’s what Jesus had at the Last Supper. Sure there was wine and bread but a Celt , a Galatian, had brought the disciples Haggis a

That’s what the main course was.  

Thank you for a new day. My eggs are boiled. My coffee beans are roasted. I have hot water and think a shower is in order. I made the bed with new sheets for Laura. She likes that.  i just have to get the right size mattress so it’s not such a chore.  Gilbert and I liked them last night.   He’s always first to roll in clean laundry.  Must get his scent out there so everyone knows whose the dog.  

Thank you Jesus.  

Vancouver Motorcycle Show, Tradex, 2020

Incredible show.  All the best of the motorcycles, quads, scooters and accessories BC has to offer in one big Abbotsford Tradex location. I love coming back each year. This year I met up with Victor and Tim. Previous years Laura has accompanied me along with others.  

This year Murray had hoped to come but couldn’t make it Friday.  “I have a work shift I need to take so I have the money to pay my motorcycle Insurance.”  Motorcycle insurance cost are appalling. If Climate Change was serious business then the government who actually claimed to care about the environment they’d not punish us with carbon tax and gouging insurance costs.   An enlightened age would see motorcyclists subsidized.      

Buddha said, Desire is the source of all suffering.  I really suffer at the Vancouver Motorcycle Show. Sweet misery!

Two years ago I was ready to trade my Harley Davidson Electroglide in for the HD Street Glide. Last year , fickle, I loved the big tired cruising and styling Fat Boy. This year I’m back to the Street Glide. I drooedl and got shivers up my spine when I sat on it.  Low to the ground. I felt the wind in  my hair.  Sitting there  I riding down the highway listening to the Doobie Brothers and Steppenwolf.   

I was styling. Really.  I had my heavily weight down Harley Davidson Owner’s Group leather vest with pins from my Ride for Dad and various other fund raisers and poker runs over the years.  I had my  Christian Rider’s Cross and  Dr. Bob patch.Under it I had on my Sturges North Hoodie.  Under that I had a 2013 Sturges Black Hills Rally t shirt.  On top I had a black togue, like Edge wears but mine has a discrete little HD logo. I am so cool I’m hot.    

The trouble with Tradex is they don’t allow dogs.   Gilbert rides with me, stylin his HD leash and collar with his black leather jacket.  I know everyone would have been looking at me if if it wasn’t for all the utterly bodacious babes  in leather bodices and tight tights.  Mamma! Biker babes are over the top.  While many were trying out the bitch seat a whole lot more were checking out the rides for themselbves.  

I have a KTM 690 enduro. The KTM 790 Adventure just teases me.  The KTM 690 is perfect but that doesn’t mean I can’t look.  I even sat on the 790 Adventurer. It felt so good.   

I got the new God child Harley Davidson baby clothes.   

The Norton was on display. British Bike Owners club. My first bike was a Norton.  I crashed it my first ride so didn’t ride motorcycles for a decade after that. My Honda Ruckus , the greatest of 50 cc Scooters was there. I have to resist getting one. I’ve had two over the years and they’re just the best fun. Laura had one too.  Tha great Italian Aprilia’s were there. I loved my Aprillia. I sat on a red Vespa just for the memory of Laura and I whizzing all over Rome.  We drove all over on that rented Vespa searching out relics of saints.  We prayed at each ciurch admiring the architecture, rlinguary art and just thankful to be at each hallowed place.

I enjoyed seeing the fabulous Yamaha’s and Honda’s.  I have a couple in my day. I will always remember riding on the back of my older brothers Yamaha when I was a kid.  He was so cool.  The Can Am spyders were there. I remembr riding with a girl and her parents in northern Montana. We had Harleys but she was wild and crazy loving her Spyder.  There was even a ski doo at the show.   Harley’s new Live Wire electric motorccyle was selling.  Other electric scooters were too.  Mostly it was still a glorious fuel efficient machines. BMW’s, Ducattis, Suzuki, Kawasaki, Indians and Royal Enfields. They are all so different.  Each is unique. I’ve had so much joy riding motorcycles. My friend Dave calls it, Wind Therapy.

I didn’t buy a bike but I did get more swag. There’s always such great deals at the Motorcycle show. 

I was having my favourite hot dog and americano when Victor found me. He’d bought another leather jacket. “I don’t need it.”  “I know’, I said showing him the armoured gloves I’d bought and didn’t need.   Tim from Old  Motorcycle was with him. He introduced me also to his neighbour whose with Mountainview HD. I’d already talked to him about the Streert Glide. I liked that all the Harley dealerships were in one area,  I could talked with the great guys from Kamloops Barnes and Langley Barnes, Trev Deeley and Mountainview.  

The new bikes were all round incredible. Something about the new sleekness of design and colours.  

Talking bikes with a variety of guys was funtoo. talking hunting was fun too. And talking wives and girlfriends.  All round a great day.

Love loss

I’m afraid to let you know I love something

I’m afraid to let you know I love someone

I’m afraid to let you know I love

Or I will destroy 

Or you will destroy

Or it will be destroyed

I can’t trust again

I can’t cry again

I can’t lose again

I can’t hurt again.

I can’t love again.

I’m afraid to let you know

Old blind dog running

His little paws are twitching something fierce

Running full out on a beach or in a field

Like he used to do, 

the fastest little cockapoo that lived

Before he lost his eyes

When disease made him blind

Fate, Sad and terrible fate

In this world he plods

Lifting little legs high

Broadly placing paws

In this life he moves slowly

Carefully, cautiously

He stays with me

And I him

Now I’m watching as he runs 

His little twitching feet the tell.

In dreams, or another world

Somewhere in God 

There is reprieve

He runs so fast he flies

His soul lifting upwards

On eagles wings

Feeling Safe

I remember feeling safe

Falling asleep in front of the fire safe

With you there

Here was more than a place

There was time ahead

More so than behind

I believed

Like only the innoscent can

I was more naive than mean

Minimalist

Niggardly

Alone, afraid

The room was warm

We’d had a full meal

You and I and the saints and angels

In that other place

Where masked men 

Had not yet come

Daydreams and sweet dreams

Asleep

A cat on my lap

A book by my side

Before

Gratitude Jan.15 , 2020

Thank you God for light.  Thank you God for breath.  Thank you God for warmth. Thank you for morning.  Thank you for the night’s sleep. Thank you for the dreams that touched me with otherworlds and mystery. Thank you for the mind. Thank you for Gilbert in bed beside me. Thank you for indoor plumbing, running water, hot water, flushing toilets.  Thank you for coffee.  Thank you for grinders and electricity and intricate machines that make the morning brew. Thank you for my rugs. Thank you for the heater. Thank you for this clothing. Thank you for my positive memories.  Those things that spark the mind looking forward. I thought of old friends and little children and knew I was blessed. I reviewed my fears and felt that I didn’t want to live in a fortress of walls and moats. I’m so terribly vulnerable and I live in a dystopia but I continue to trust. Each day I go out on the battlefield and bring back the wounded.  I rally the dying.  I’m in this insane world but I’m doing my bit. Each day.  I pay my way. I guess I do thy will.  I’m bitching and complaining and self pitying and moaning and groaning and whining but I get up and help the next person in the line. Two malaria’s and and a cholera.

There are the elite. These men and women so far above the world with guards and limousines and servants and nannies.  I’m wrong to compare myself with them without comparing myself with the cripple.  Acceptance is the answer but I keep slipping. I struggle with my thoughts. I’m beating on your chest God asking for protection and support and guidance. I want to be safe in an unsafe world, rich in a planet of poverty. I want to be joyful in the malaise and depression of existence. Life is suffering unto death.  Desire is the root of all suffering. My back hurts. My shoulder hurts. My knees hurts. I’m always in pain. The plane crash, the car crash. All these attacks on my being. I was doing nothing wrong and paying attention. Shit happens. Ive been living but Ive not been able to evade the arrogant narcissist going through the red light oblivious to others or the troubles he causes. Now years later the trauma greets me.  Ive got to get through the pain. 

The life long desire to be in the south in winter. I want to run from the snow. I’m reminded of the terrrible cold.  Lost in blizzards. Making fires in woods, waiting out the night, blue.  So many negative memories. I can pull them out like a speed dial.  Dial up despair.

Yet here I am with you.  I’ve meditated sitting cross legged on the floor, listening to my breath, distracted by every sound and every undone thing but there I am making a space for you. Listening on the radio pointed to the inside.  God’s within.  I am the bubble make me the sea. I’m talking to the architect not the wall. Be with me today. Guide me.  

I’m supposed to act with dignity today.  Dignity the new standard that has been thrown at us.  The latest demand for perfection by aa group of hookers, thieves and murderers.  They have the guns and the lies and own the courts and rig the election and propagandize to the children.  Fear mongering.

I’m afraid.  Jesus said Do not be afraid.  I’m always afraid. A perpetual coward, faking it till I make it.  I dont’ want to go to Ninevah. I ve been on the icy roads with every poor driver who hit me out of control. The memories of the 360 degree flying through the air , the idiot speeding on black ice losing control in the passing lane and hitting me. I never knew a car could pitch pole and the driver still live. My divorce wasn’t long after. I’d had another near death experience and couldnt believe I was alive.  The car rolling sideways and righting itself. The self centred drunk and stoned in the morning party animals. I couldn’t get to the clinic that day. The police man took me to the emergency and I was so thankful my friend was on. I was desperately falling apart, my back seizing like its done forever. The incompetent young lawyer. The deceitful insurance company.  I was a week in bed.  I bought an encyclopedia britannica and began to read it.  Drinking scotch and popping T3, every move excruciating.

I have never recovered. Flashback pains in cold weather, the icy roads a reminder. The stoned Prime Minister wanting everyone to be stoned along with him so he can make factories and money and have more jets and nannies. I’m trying to stop them drinking. Trying to stop them drugging. Then yesterday I was asked if I wanted to be a euthanasia doctor.  If thinking about suicide isn’t enough. The government wants me to kill. I surrender we say.  Let me be captain of the artillery. I’ve read a book about mortar’s and gain a whole new respect for tubes. Meanwhile low testosterone is at epidemic proportions in Canada and no ones cares. I’m writing viagra prescriptions and talking to women who are blaming themselves for the mans noodle. The men are crying.  I’m sitting with crying me. The transsexuals are no more happy.

I’m talking to friends who stay as far away from sorrow and fear as they can. They live in little gated communities of the mind and heart and think they are Jesus. 

I write gratitude lists. I send people to anger management. I get asked to talk about anger and struggle to forgive. Forgiveness is not for them as much as it is for me. It’s also we’re all connected. I’m angry at my toe for stubbing itself.  I’m so unenlightened. I’m so dark. I’m carrying the light each day, trying to reduce the pain, trying to cut away as little good flesh. Taking out the old and weak.  I miss the easy days of surgery. I miss delivering babies. I miss the days when my skills with my hands were sought out. I did cut downs in hospital, always go the lumbar punctures and inserted needles in to hearts, swan gauzes and chest tubes and pacemakers. It was all glorious. Now I muck in the mediocre.  

The pain is real. It is all in your head.

“You saying its all in my head.” 

‘If I cut off your head you’d feel more pain?”

Why is the brain and mind and soul so little validated but the body is all the rage.  They want money and more money and more money.  Everyone is poor.  Validate the pain. Blame the world for my pain. But accountability brings power. I am my nemesis.  I can change me but not you. The serenity prayer.  

I drove to work 2 hours commuting.  Duty.  Wanting a pay check.  I had such silly expectations of what it would be like to grow old. Retirement. The promise of all those years of sacrifice. Now they circle like mosquitoes outside the screen. The vampires are coming in the chimney.

I’m grateful.  I need only look at a flower and see the wonder.  I have to focus on the positive and let go of the negative. Ive got to walk on the right side of the street and then I won’t be hit by the cars, mostly.

Ive so many blessing. I have these glorious times walking in the forest by the river with my dog who is happy, blind and old and so content not to be alone .Thank you Lord that I’m not alone. Not in solitary. Not locked in quiet room by the instrument of my rape and terror.  Not injected with anti psychotic medications for telling the truth and shouting ‘j’accuse’.  I’m vindicated. The enemy dies.  Arjuna talks with Krishna. The war goes on.

I buy a little statue of St. Michael as I look back my back trail and see the karma of all who hurt me and wonder why I am afraid.  Why must I get wounded for the squad to come up. I’m walking point and always afraid.  But someone else is walking point right now. I’m here in the warmth and have a royally expensive tank of propane to replace this one that got me through the night. It’s so cold outside. I miss Mexico and the beach.  I miss the glory days. I wallow in grief, suck on the tit of despair. I grieve so much but then I look back and today is the glory day.  Today is now. Now is where god is. If I get into the future I get into fear and if I dwell in the past I gather resentments. Expectation is a preformed resentment.  I’m searching for God, playing hide and seek, minute by minute. Here in the mystery in the game. I’m looking for love in all the wrong place and all the right places.  Life is a poem and I’m a poet. Life is a song and I’m the singer. 

Thank you for the laughter. Especially the laughter at myself.  This too will pass. The end is a grave. All else is vanity.  

Thank you God for the coffee.  Thank you for this body.  10 fingers 10 toes.  Help me make the time for seeing friends.  Help me face my fears and go out on the road.  Help me face my fears and get out of bed. Thank you for my waking today. Thank you for the prospect of a hot shower.  Thank you for the coming of the light. Thank you that we know the sun is returning and we dont have to sacrifice any virgins. We dont have many virgins left Lord so thank you for science and the knowledge of astronomy.  

Thank you for all your blessings. Help me to know you more deeply feel you more fully trust you more truly.  Thank you Lord for this life and this day. May I make the best of it, serve you and my fellow man and woman. May I be a better man today than I was yesterday.  Thank you Lord. 

Jan.3 ,2020

Thank you Lord Jesus for this day in his new year. Thank you for your hope and sacrifice.

Thank you for the light that grows the days longer and the coming of spring.

Thank you for this year and the hope of camping and travel in this great outdoor wonderland of Canada.

Thank you for Gilbert my four legged companion who reminds me what a joy it is to breathe and walk and pee.

Thank you for transportation. Thank you for cars and trucks and motorcycles.

Thank you for clean water and clean air. Thank you for heat and fuel. Thank you for the septic system.  Thank you for home.

Thank you Lord for family and friends and coworkers and acquaintances.

Thank you for coffee and refridgerator and supermarkets and pharmacies and malls.

Thank you for entertainment, Netflix, ITunes, Apple, Amazon and BritBox.

Thank you for books and kindle.

Thank you for creativity and art and the friends who paint and sculpt and make music and write poetry and prose.

Thank you for coffee.

Thank you for today.