Convergent smile

(From a dream…)

I jumped back in time
to when I was little,
just starting school.

There in the hallways,
I saw Little Me
about to enter class.

Quickly, I darted
to try and catch him
so that I could tell him

That the lifelong
tidings he has to bear
wouldn’t be so bad.

That hearing aids draped
over his tiny chest would shrink
over years into his ears.

That even though some
kids would be cruel,
he’d bounce back.

That when some said
he wouldn’t amount to much,
he’d prove them all wrong.

That the mountains he
had to overcome would
make life far more rewarding.

And finally I wanted
to tell Little Me
that he was my true hero.

Sadly I was too late,
the door slammed and
I was yanked back to now.

Later that night,
after my weary soul
had fallen asleep

Little Me came to me
in a dream as real can be
and climbed into my lap.

Looking up at me with
a gentle smile, he said:
“Everything will be okay”

The past fell away,
future blurred, and the
now became a forever smile.


What fears may come

After a too-long-for-me hiatus, I’m slowly and finally getting ready to get back on the road.

Most of my hiatus was focusing on recovering from chronic lyme disease which wrecked my body and sapped it of strength.

Once again I find myself facing an old familiar – fear.

Can still I do the things I so loved? These long, rambling hikes in the woods where I’d lose my soul in ‘em? Would I still have the strength to kayak down swirling rivers?

I’m not the sort to sit around camp most of the time. I’m a natural born explorer — a life unexplored is life wasted. Would I be too tired and exhausted to enjoy those wanderings?

Would the heat of long summer days wilt me? Can I handle the rigors of day to day camping life?

Out there, there is no retreat from escape. No air conditioned home to bolt back to, no safety valve for when things go awry. 

I’m not all there yet physically and yet I’ve come as far as I can in exile from the woods.

I feel the call of the road and I need to answer it. I must. My soul misses it deeply and my heart is empty.

It is time to fill those valises with the nectar of nature’s love and joy.

Once again I face my fears and see where they will take me.


Tiny camping amongst giants

Those tall California redwood trees give literal meaning to tiny camping in the woods, don’t they?


Flowing into the suck

I’m always meaning to write more on this blog. Folks who know me well say I ought to be a prolific writer and all that.

I used to think the same, but many times when I sit down to write, I’m empty inside.

There’s nothing to give.

I don’t know what it means, nor do I want to give it meaning so that I’d have to do something about it.

My life has always been about flow. Even when there’s no flow.

Flowing empty.

All I can do is embrace it rather than struggle against it.

It doesn’t make the discontent go away. Sitting with it, maybe.

Flowing into discontent.

Sounds like a zen thing, doesn’t it? Maybe it is.

I don’t know, nor do I feel the need to define that either.

Flow I’ll continue. Embrace the suck and the not.


Sun sentinel at Palo Duro Canyon State Park, Texas

Memories: View from an afternoon hike in Texas’ version of the Grand Canyon. It’s the second largest canyon in the country. What do you think of when you see this?



Be careful what you ask for She said.

I asked anyway.

Fortresses collapsed.

Worlds imploded and peeled away.

Long moons of hell, scarring, and healing.

Was it worth it? Hmm… Yes.

It’s not for everyone.

Like natural birth, it’s messy and painful.

Yet something new emerges with wisdom of old soul.