Bucky had 3 watches

 

OM (drawn out as a chant)

460 meters per second the Gaia dervish whirls

Reality is the only Reality 

The nucleus of an atom is to Adam as Adam is to the track that Gaia runs

If it were not for the pressure we would float away with the ocean into the void.  

The gravity of our situation is symbiotic. 

Breath and be thankful for the air, though unseen without it we are not.

All the trees share the same root. All the bird sing in concert.     

Remember, Awaken, Surrender, Be known.  

 

 

Teaching my kids to read is hard.

I decided to get the homeschooling started a little early.  Going inside a school building is not an option that I am comfortable with during this COVID19 pandemic.  I made a deal with each of them.  If they each read one children's book, then I would read two children's books of equivalent size.  It took five hours for the two of them to each read a book.

At first, it was going well.  Then, came the making up the story by looking at the pages.  Then came substituting poo, pee, and fart for words they didn't feel like sounding out.  Then came the laying on their backs, and touching each other with their feet.  Multiple water breaks, some pleading, some threats, some praise, more begging. My son who is in second grade and fully capable of reading the book he selected, was the worst culprit of derailing behavior.  My daughter entering first grade picked a book a little beyond her level but was determined to read it. Unfortunately for me when she would get stuck, my son would read over her shoulder, which started fights.

When they were done, although exhausted I was so proud.  I am sure experienced school teachers probably have much better techniques, but I think we did well.  Also, I am sure there is no way two kids in the classroom would get five hours of mostly undivided attention.

I am less worried about lesson planning, as some things take way longer then I anticipate. Like last year in April at the beginning of lockdown, when I planned a two-hour letter writing lesson, which took six days.

So here is quality time with the kiddos and the joy of hard-won completion.      

What if art was deeply linked to geography, yet made accessible to all.

Please contemplate what repatriating all the art and artifacts in the world would do for us a human society.   What if there was a decentralized network of all global art galleries, that agreed to have a reciprocal membership pass?  Obviously, the British Museum would be a lot smaller.  But imagine the context of visiting the art of the world, by traveling the world.  Images and artifacts of our human heritage in a geographic context.  To only see Egyptian sarcophagi in Egypt.  As we are imagining this, let's also imagine an international network of maglev trains and solar ships so that we could all travel the world at a reasonable price with a low environmental impact. 
 

the world is littered with sacred objects

Today I walked a labrith.  I am thankful for the person that built this labrith, in memorial park placed in a neighborhood, for public use.  The world is littered with sacred symbols, left about to be picked up by strangers at just the right time. The Word of God has been scrolled on walls, in book margins, and left lying in wait to ensnare our hearts when we least expect it.

Thanksgiving 2019

Thanks be to God from whom all blessings flow.

I am greatful for:

Jane, my partner with whom I share all joy and sorrow.

Robert and Theresa, my parents who have lived me consistently all the days of my life.

Brian, my brother who walked the path ahead of me.

Teachers who opened my eyes and my mind.

Bosses, leaders and mentors who guided me.

Friends and family with whom I have shared life.

My elders on whose shoulders I stand

My children through whose eyes I see the world a new.

The stranger who will come in the name of the Lord. 

...and the guy playing guitar on the beach this morning.

On faking poor and feeling rich

I like many "moderately" wealthy people who have constructed a false narrative for myself.  One in which I categorized myself as poor.  Which I am not.   I tell myself I am poor relative to my peers. At least the ones that have bigger houses than me.  I am poor relative to my peers with newer cars than me. I am poor relative to my peers with higher-paying jobs than me.  Poor relative to my peers who have fancy job titles and more advanced degrees. This is of course, false.  I am not poor.  If challenged for a second, by reality, I would have to admit that I am not worried about where my next few hundred meals are coming from.  Although I don't want the heartache and headache of getting robbed; it would not destroy my station in life, because not only do I have stuff, most of it is insured in some way: home insurance, car insurance, life insurance.

Is it possible to be poor in spirit, if you are not actually poor?  

Is it possible to be totally dependant on God, while carrying multiple kinds on insurance policies? 

No, not if I think of myself as only me.  Not if my identity ends at the parameter of my skin.  At best or perhaps worst I could fake it through public prayer and acting humble while living in fear rather than freedom.  Fear of being found out and fear of losing my amassed possessions and prestige.

So how does the rich man get through the eye of the needle? 

• Larger identity: We rather than I.
• Stewardship: His rather than mine.
• Discipline: Just because you can, doesn't mean you should.
• Vassal hood: Use bestowed authority in keeping with the desires of our Lord. 

I am not poor. I am rich. Blessed with life, freedom to choose, and the ability to love. 

I give thanksgiving to God. 

I pray that my possessions are not chains and that I hold them lightly.  

That I enjoy these things as if they are library books and that I return them on time.  

I pray that accomplishments do not corrupt my soul to stand alone in pride. 

Nothing is accomplished alone.  

Thanks be to the Lord.

Free Writing on Pain of Needle

Tattoo pain is real.
Can one get used to it?
Can I learn to breathe through this?
Will I be able to handle two hours of this?
Maybe I should have gotten a smaller one.
I like to talk, but man I am hurting too much to think.
This burns. I am worried about how much this is gonna hurt and for how long after it is done.
I am tense as fuck, probably gonna be sore from tensing my muscles in my leg.
I'm trying to relax and just breath but fuck, this fucking hurts.
Fuck! How many times can I write fuck and does it actually help?

I wonder why this is a right of passage for so many indigenous cultures.
Ok, I tried talking.
I did feel a little better.
Trying to be quiet is not making me tough.
I am not really tough...just stubborn :)
My stream of consciousness is not really helping.
Two hours with this gun is worse than seven hours of boring driving without cell service.

I am super glad they have so many toys and stickers to look at in this shop,
because I am stuck here for a while.
Ok time to start praying.
God, I love you.
Seriously I do.
Life is amazing.
Creation is mindblowing.
I am so grateful to be alive,
to get to be
 and be in time
 and your creation in your world
to be your son.
adopted by the father through brotherhood with Jesus Christ.

I wonder if my son or daughter claimed someone...
Would I bring them into my tent and make them family?
Is that how the kingdom comes...
through fathers that accept new children,
through the advocation of their sons and daughter,
bringing new brothers and sisters into the fold?

New part of my leg this really hurts...

I got used to the pain when it was all in one spot. 
Cliff found a new spot and it is sensitive AF!

Breath.

Thank you, Lord Jesus.
It is right to honor you,
who calls me brother.

OWWWW! Fuck the under knee spot.
Right there, fuck that hurts.

The artists are causally talking about tacos.
Fuck! this hurts.
The techno music in the background is now a sort of soul rock and roll.
I appreciate it.
There is a lot of drum and twinkling piano,
and some wammy bar on the guitar.
Yet it might be a Jane's Addition song,
I don't know or at least the vocalist sounds like Jane's Addiction.

Fuck! New part of leg...ow, fuck another new sensitive area.
Just in case I forget how much this hurt,
Reminder for later
Never get a tat in an actually sensitive spot. (like the top of my foot)
...or I don't know the neck probably really hurts. 
I now feel like I can judge people who do that.
But I am not sure how to judge them.
Are they brave, dumb, masochistic?

Fuck

Two birds outlined.
Eagle and dove.
Now Cliff is working on the owl.
I hope I don't woose out and bail on the shading.
The owl doesn't hurt as much, yet.
Thank you, God, for the reprieve.
I almost understand how some people like this pain.
...but no, not really.
I only like that this pain - is less than the other pain. 

Techno is back.
I like electronic music.
It sort of allows me to zone out into the pain.
Man, how do people do those thick black bands? 
That has really got to f'ing hurt.

I am going to stop writing now. 
I am tempted to look at the time, but I don't really want to know.
I don't really want to know how much longer I am going to be here.

God, Thank you!
Praise your Name.
Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.