Taking a break from 4ozs-
peace and cheer-
Linda

The most important test to pass is your own, to finally say to yourself: Yes, yes. I did it.

I'm still distracted
by each shift in the wind,
each spray of rain
the expanding fog rolls in from the dark hills,
the afternoon light, so bright,
now tastes of gray.
The air cools sharply
and I lunge at peeling windmills along the street.
They go
Yah!
and Yah!
until I remember
-Oh, right,
my purpose is back this way.-
I sheathe my stick sword
and turn away.

The thing about walking is that the view changes, your body is not stagnant, nor is your perspective; there is movement around you and within you.

These ants marched into the freezer in the night and froze to death. (There were also some in a stupor, and some trying their best to get in.) I try to figure it out. They didn't go to any food items. Either someone came into my apartment when I wasn't here and smeared the freezer with something incredibly attractive to ants, or it's one of these phenomena I bring up to my friends who patiently listen and hope for the best.

If it's the former, haha. If it's the latter, I gotta wonder why?

There are a few other ant phenomena going on around here, involving peanut butter and stove burners, but I'll just stick with the one that I can illustrate.

Sorry about the poor quality of the pics, but you get the idea. Any thoughts or comments are welcome.

I walk by these plants several times a week. So many people are working out in gyms, building muscle mass. But there's something about these little reeds, so slender yet strong, that trips the heart.

Leaves and branches
may twist and writhe
dance and flutter,
receiving each breath
or gale of wind;
The trunk stands
steady and true,
unmoved by weather.

In retrospect, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to do Shintaido new year pre-dawn meditations during a solo cross-country drive January a year ago. Shintaido workshops and meditations tend to leave me dazed, and here it was, day two, and I drove over two hundred miles after the motel meditation, across the state of New Mexico well into Arizona, before I noticed I was on the wrong interstate.

But the detour I took north to Flagstaff proved to be the richest part of the trip. Approaching Globe, Arizona, I came upon a stretch of road that was closed to public traffic until early evening. I had a choice to take a circuitous route, or hold tight in Winkelman for half an hour until the road would open. I consulted with three regulars hanging outside of the gas station store. We all spoke the same language, but didn't quite understand each other. It was quiet, the air smelled of arid earth. What fates had stopped me at this isolated post at this awkward conjunction with these men? I thanked them, left my burdened car in the parking lot, and took a walk to learn more about what their home territory was like.

the broom whispers against the January sidewalk,
promises spring mornings soon to come,
a fragrant sun to warm the rough concrete,
flower petals falling in artless tribute
to blooming and mortality

Waves
erase, create,
create, erase -
a horse gallops along the sands -

Ocean Beach, San Francisco

A friend from way back forwarded this picture to me today. The name of the photographer is not given, but the message reads: 'A lady that lives in Ladysmith, Wisc. Snapped this.'

I was walking this morning when I came upon the fronds of this palm tree piled neatly on the sidewalk. Oh, wow, that stack triggered a storm. I thought the tree had been chopped down.

On the way back, there was more light, and there was the tree, some distance from the trimmings, a little naked in the cold, but alive and cheerful.

(This photo was taken last month, before the pruning.)

Stay the course.

How brave that we take on this great social experiment, with all of its risks and riches. The Facebook phenomenon so expands the territory of human interaction, a weaving of people and information, games and mischief - a form of improvisation unheard of six years ago when the improvisation quote in yesterday’s post was written. Perhaps the people who are children now will bypass some of the awkwardness because this kind of social identity will be integrated so early in their lives. But they'll also miss the sense of self-discovery I've seen happen among my peers, as we find ourselves through the interactions within the ever-available crowd of friends online, through the virtual farms and fishes and sorority sisters. How uncomfortable and at time exhilerating it is to be on the cusp of such an evolution!

In a 2003 horoscope,Rob Brezsny writes:
'Gemini performer Keith Hennessy teaches classes in improvisation. I'll quote his ideas about the subject because they perfectly describe the nature of the spirit you should invoke in the coming weeks. Here's his definition of improvisation. "The art of being in full awareness and integrity right now. The opposite of repression. The closest we get to the source language of creativity, soul, play, and magic. A crazy attempt to align body and mind not only in the pursuit of freedom, but in the actual experience of freedom. Intentional spontaneity. The beauty and truth of the wild."'

The way branches take shape, seeking sunlight, and responding to the wind, and how roots seek water and nutrients, and react to stones and concrete, may be a slow-motion improvisation of nature. If branches and roots did not seek freedom, did not explore, they would not grow.

The bird a nest,
the spider a web,
man friendship.

William Blake

Freedom is free. Control is costly.
Andrew Foss-Grant

trees, wreaths

like discarded gypsies

adorn the streets

bright winter surprise

detail from a Madonna in Verbania, Italy

Today's the celebration of the arrival of the magi bearing gifts, also known as Kings Day, though word on the street is that they were Persian Priests, not kings.

In southern Louisiana, you buy a cake for Kings Day and hide a little plastic baby in it. (During the days before plastic, people hid a dried bean in the cake.) Whoever finds the bean or baby must host the Kings' Day celebration next year.

Who first had the idea of secreting a bean in a cake? Was it for Kings Day, or is it a tradition that goes way way back to other celebrations, now buried with our ancestors?

For a couple of years when the kids were small, we'd set up the resin Nativity set in early December, and leave the wise men out. They'd start their journey on the window sill in the kitchen, and each day progress a little farther toward their goal in the living room. They traversed sticky counters, dodged dust bunnies along the floor, and perched on top of the TV where they were likely mystified by the songs and skits of Sesame Street. "Gotta put down the ducky if you wanna play the saxaphone..."

But they plodded on until finally they joined up with the lambs, the shepherds, and the baby in the manger, the angel hanging from the apex of the roof on a bent nail that tended to tilt, leaving the angel in a precarious position, or sometimes upside down in the straw.

I tend to think of the real magi as older, but maybe they were in their 20s, or even late teens. Maybe one was a bit of a comedian. Maybe there was some fuming when one insisted they take a detour that ended up in a dead end whereupon they had to backtrack for a day. It would be amazing to hear one of their conversations during the trip. They all likely had many stories to share when they finally got back home to Persia.

to be

the blue heron

focused forward in flight

wings pulsing

through an older space

where time moves

at a langorous pace

and breath flows slowly

Healing, strength, our deepest wisdom all result from

our grounding in self

our relationship with nature and others

our connection to 'ten', to heaven.

This principle is manifest

in every Shintaido form.

full moon water-colored blue
bells sing each note lightly
welcome, New Year!