Stone #10 - All is Energy, Movement, Nothing is still - The Dance

Even as I sit, I think still, I am not. Still

Is not just my unquiet mind, its me, and everything around me.

The Ring, constant in my head, is ever moving, steady but moving.

My breath is moving. The blood it fuels, the neurons it gives energy to fire, the very molecules of my body vibrating with the energy of the atoms within.

And those pesky Quarks, with their "Here I am, Oh I'm gone, Peak-A-Boo I'm back again" games.

And I'm not the only one. Oh no, everything is in on the movement, in on the dance floor of existence. Even that Dark Matter that isn't but is, moves with us all.

The micro and macro. Worlds within worlds and Universes within and beside and through each other now, all moving, and dancing the dance of existence.

Everything is connected to everything else.

I know, I've seen it in my fog, felt it in the wind.

I realize you know this. Just wanted you to know you're not alone in that, in the dance.

And now for the musical bit of our show, here's Cellist Extrodinare Zoe Keating performing Escape Artist. I think you'll be impressed, Roll over Yo-Yo Ma.

Quite The Little Fellow - Stone #9

It's just a little old stuffed toy.

It encapsulates many aspects of life.

It speaks of innocent beginnings, time and tides encountered along the way.

It recalls precious memories, bitter disappointments, loss, and if one is very fortunate, a finding of the way home again, to be held forever in the tender love of one grown beyond.

Besides, I love the hat.

Stone #8

Again, 8k mhz Ring. look, it's a constant in my head, so get used to it being in these Mindful moments.

The fog is thick, a tangible thing in it's touch, cool and moist, yet soft and intimate.

I have some affinity for the fog. It seems both friend and foe. Dulls some input, enhances others.

Obviously, I've never had to pilot a boat through treacherous waters in it.

Context can change everything, aye?

Stone #7

(I see it)

*Flash*
an old bug, an old sticker on it "KILL YOUR TELEVISION"
*Flash*
my daughter loaned it to me *images of her growing up*
*Flash*
"KILL YOUR TELEVISION" is an authentic '70s credo
*images of my teenage years in a bug, much fun*
*Flash*

(My breathing starts again)
(insert sound, eight thousand megahertz, ringing in my ears)

(Blink)

Stone Number Four

Five am, thick fog, frost on the ground
Inside the Subaru is an opposite clime
Street lights, halos, our passage through
Bruce Springsteen sings - Tunnel of Love

another small stone

Stepping outside onto my small patio
inside of my small fenced in yard
I hear the Pacific North West rain
tapping on the hood of my coat

Above that, rides the tinnitus ring,
always there, that big and that loud.
Eight thousand megahertz, just for me,
heard or seen by none other.

The trees, the ground, the rain, and the moss,
set that taste on the tip of my mind.
Right here, right now, it all means the same.
I find that to be of some comfort.

Small Stones, a New Challenge

Today I'm starting a new writing challenge. It's called, yes you guessed it, a river of stones. The badge above will link to the information page at Writing Our Way Home

This is another page and group that my friend Johanna Harness put me onto in one of her posts at Johanna's Big Thoughts - This one. She's awesome like that, @Johannaharness is

One - up & out of bed

First cup of coffee is just kicking in
as I climb the stairs to his room
He is almost eight, going on five
It's part of his boggle, you see

I make sure I've got Monkey
as I scoop him up from his bed
It wouldn't do otherwise
Monkey is "very special"

He's getting too big to carry around
my legs tell me so going back down
to his breakfast, and cartoons, and clean clothes
Dawn, coming in the window on his face



Two, off to school

He rides out on his little blue bike
a chipper fellow
in his silver helmet
and his red coat

It's just now full daylight and cold
he seems so small, so fast
Something catches in my chest
and he's gone