On The Way (to the bakery)

Or, a cautionary tale of the dangers found in just about anything

I got lost a few times today. More than usual anyway, and have been left wearing a rather strange outfit (for me, at least somewhat). It all started with a hair combing, and why not? Hair is not usually a stopping place near a rabbit hole, but then sooner or later it seems as if anything can be. Hair combing can progress easily to hair chopping (seriously) and then quickly on to a shower which of course means different clothes. And therein lies the rub.

Now settled into a boho-covered sofa, I am wearing a short dress over short denim leggings and a pair of  moto boots. Black, of course. Said hair from original detour is sporting purple highlights. The clothes have to do with the moto boots which are all the fault of the doctor. (Sad to say, not the Dr. Who.)

About my doctor: I hurt my knee, then continued to bang it up for quite some time. Ultimately and not long ago I ended up at a doctor’s place of business. Because goals are required almost everywhere and for everything these days, I was asked what my goal was in addressing the seriously compromised knee. Biting my tongue, cheeks, and lips, so as not to say, “um, to use it?” I replied, “So I can wear my cowboy boots again.” Which is true. Cowboy boots, having an angled heel in order to settle the foot nicely in the stirrups, will angle the foot and pitch the ankle forward when walking. The higher the heel, the greater the pitch to the corresponding leg, and the offending knee. Pain results.

Meanwhile, the complaining knee has been slow to respond to treatments. At last review the kindly doctor suggested that it might be a bit longer than anticipated for us to be ready for cowboy boots. Might other boots not do just as nicely? At least for the time being—before the last-resort operation looms ever so brightly in front of me? And then the doctor—he of the moto-boot fame—went on to suggest that even motorcycle boots could work.

And they do. Motorcycle boots, aka moto boots, fit nicely and move along a flat plane, regardless of the heel height. So that’s the way things are now. And why I am wearing moto boots and have my purple highlighted hair chopped short. Or maybe it’s the other way around. Whatever. Things I don’t have: more writing done on the newest novel, advertising for The Fat Man set up, piano practiced, etc., etc., etc. But here are the boots!

 

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Depression

It’s not always what it seems, this depression thing. It’s a matter of yes but then you’re not talking about what is called “clinical depression,” or the big D. Lao is the man, as is Buddha, as is the Tao for the get-up-in-the-morning-and-sing variety of depression.

But the decent into the Great Blackness—which is a very different color of Black—that’s something else entirely. When your mind takes hold of itself into a grip with an iron fist that repeats words and phrases and threats and obscenities that are more than a word like Torture can convey, that’s Depression. Imagine buried alive in a coffin of darkness. Imagine a jail filled with horrors beyond Bosch. When the only way out is to silence the thought-hell entirely, that’s Depression.

Whatever. When not there you do not want to conjure it. It’s the film-flam of the Devil. So until then, Lao Tzu will do. Until then, this works.

quantamWorld

Posted by Quantum World 

The Fat Man

The Fat Man has been reduced on Amazon.com. It can now be purchased for $16.97! If you haven’t yet gotten the book, now is the time.

I’m working on getting the price reduced on Barnes & Noble, so that should be appearing soon also.

Meanwhile, here you go!

 

 

 

The Locust, Butterflies, and Birth

Inspired by the Caterpillars Don’t Become Butterflies post from Mitch Teemly, I went back into the archives to find this series of beauties from 2009. These photos were sent to me by Tara Pohl. A friend of hers (nameless? credit?) had taken them while she was living in Ohio and I in Colorado. This is the kind of thing that still gives me chills. Or as my son used to say, skin shivers. And boy would he have loved this. His birthday is tomorrow. Happy Birthday, Joel. I hope you, like the Butterfly & the Locust, have completed your metamorphosis into the splendor of the Universe. I love you. I miss you.

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8234_127902257613_707017613_2184689_1531873_n[1]The Locust (Ohio)

I love this little guy, struggling so to become what he already is.8234_127902252613_707017613_2184688_7358874_n[1]8234_127902267613_707017613_2184691_5343028_n[1]

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Earth Day

It seems, on this Earth Day in particular, that things are a bit disheartening. How to reclaim a continent and all continents when science is denied, facts are denied, and whole worlds (e.g. The Rain Forest) are decimated by greed.

It’s tough. It’s painful. It may be hopeless. Still some plod on. Some keep smiling and giving. Some pray. Many sit and are silent. And on we go. Some go on in beauty, while yet they can. And still we love. We love this earth of ours in all its splendor, and the terror of a sunrise. And while we go on, we love, and smile. Maybe plant a flower. Maybe stop and watch the wonder of nature, and see all of heaven in a grain of sand. Enough to just go on.

quantumWorld

Posted by Quantum World