i have a brain: aka: Eckhart Tolle, help me!

toolssite

i have a brain that constantly moves,

pushes material through

its corners and curves,

through its alleyways

and open doors;

like fuel through an engine,

                         whatever

material I push through it,

it uses --

testing logical connections

and juxtapositions,

applying old formulas,

and looking for new ones ---

No matter what I encounter

or seek to entertain

at any given time

I feed it through

my hungry mind-machine

and produce

                           hypothesis

Some are wild

and fantastic --- others,

just like a child's puzzle --

easily solved and easily

perceived.

This is some of what

I write

here; some

times, it's a 

poem; some

times, it's a 

revelation.

Most of the time,

I feel,

my thinking is a 

disease.

grand opening

one open . . . 

two . . . .

three. . . 

will there be more?

I'm happy just to see the three

after two long years of drought.

Even in the most dry times,

with some of the rarer creatures,

there is hope.

Somalia

I may sound like a broken record,

but every time I hear a news story about this situation in Somalia,

I get more upset and desperate about the need

to try to help.

Silly me.

You may think that each of us,

individually,

cannot do much about this,

but I tend to feel that if each of us,

individually,

donated whatever funds or talents we could afford,

we could, together, make a difference. 

I just sent a donation to the International Rescue Committee,

that has placed doctors and other workers

in refugee camps in Mogadishu.

Here is a list of other U.S.-based aid organizations.

Interaction

If you're not in the U.S.A., 

just do a quick Google search

on "Aid to Somalia"

and I'm sure you'll surely find an organization 

in your home country.

I'm not kidding.

Diva for the Day: go to Menopausal Stoners: Cheryl B - This Death Stuff Sucks

Just read this great entry by one of my blogging friends, about a now late
true New York Diva:

Menopausal Stoners: Cheryl B - This Death Stuff Sucks

Spicy Greens

OK,

so in this heat it's hard to eat

lots of meat.

                 Really.

Especially at my tender, advanced age.

So on this hot un-negotiable night

I thought I'd go light.

I have this almost obsessive interest

in the green salad, and

in how much variety you can get in a salad,

just using green.

So, this caught my eye

at a local cooperative grocer:

Sounds great,  doesn't it?

So I bought it, and when I opened it,

I was struck

by the variety of greens,

and the similarities they hold

to something a cow would eat.

Now, look at it:

I almost felt I could go out

into my backyard

and pick it,

but then I looked closer,

and began to get excited about eating it.

So I'm now going to show you

what I did with it, 

because the salad I'm eating right now

is simply fabulous.

So, of course I cleaned it once, 

then put it in a drainer to clean it

again,

but this time, I started adding stuff,

starting with arugula

from my own porch garden--

Now, I was surprised when my arugula grew in this shape;

it must be the variety.

I'm more familiar with the longer, leafy kind

that I used to be able to get

when I lived in Turkey.

After that,

I added some basil,

also from the porch garden,

Oh, and I should point out,

I put in a handful of mesclun mix,

and then a couple leaves of romaine,

Now, you clean that up and stir it up,

and look at all that color!

So, to this I added 

this rather lovely locally produced feta

(yes, I'm giving some local plugs here)

and I used some dill

(again from the porch! - no I did not use the part

where it has come to flower.

Now, should I?)

in a very simple oil and balsamic vinegar dressing,

and,

well, 

here is the outcome:

Now, will tell you,

I'm just reveling in the experience

of having just eaten

that salad,

and I will tell you -- it was fabulous!

Those Spicy Greens are really spicy --

But while I'm at it,

I'll also tell you

what I ate it with.

My other food obsession

is rice,

and I found this lovely mixed rice,

thanks to my brother --

which I made with a vegetable broth,

and I'll tell you,

its nuttiness really compliments

the greens' spiciness.

And I washed it down with a glass of this,

which I have to say is a very nice

Spanish white wine from the Rioja region,

 which I can get in my area

for below $15.00

So,

there you go --

I was inspired to write a blog entry

about a meal which,

by the way,

was a fabulous summertime meal!

And it all began with the title

"Spicy Greens"

(note: I just noticed the Spicy Green people

have a website named right

on their package --

it is:

www.remembrancefarm.org,

and here's a paragraph from their website

about who they are:

"Remembrance Farm is a 90-acre biodynamic vegetable farm located in Trumansburg, NY, in the heart of the beautiful Finger Lakes region.  We specialize in growing salad greens and root vegetables for sale to local stores and restaurants, and to individual households through a cooperative Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) program known as the Full Plate Farm Collective."

)

Ode To An Orchid, Long Anticipated

From out your tangled, tormented weave

of roots, I have wondered, 

           will I see a bloom 

                             again?

One year, two years,

              watering there, 

            watching for

                              a different shoot

among the roots

              that clutch 

                 and cramp

                        your tiny home

              of earth.

My friend --

I recognized the singular sprout

                   a tad too late

                            to keep it straight,

                      but there it is

patience brings

                                     a cluster of blossoms,

                             ready to burst --

but I must extend

                       my waiting state,

                      amazed, though

at your regenerate

                  condition --

my heart, too

                     wells with you

Air Conditioning: aka: the Great Grid Fear.

(film: Makropoulos' Air Conditoner)

Well,

the heat in my part of the world today was so intense

that it was unbearable.

However, it was not actually all that unbearable to me

because

for the first time in my multi-centennial existence,

I live in a place with central air.

So I sat here, in my cool cool house --

I and all those other select few --

I sat here in my air conditioning

while the rest of the world

smoldered.

I sat here soooo long, 

my guilt became unbearable ---

For so many years, for centuries in fact,

I have sweat it out with the best of you,

and during that time,  I felt like I was participating somehow

in the agony of the planet,

And I felt ethical, and compassionate, and good.

But this time,

I sipped ice tea 

in the a.c.

And it made me feel so two-faced -- I, who advocate love

and peace and togetherness,

sat excluded and comfortable.

So I decided that,

if nothing else,

I should take a walk and participate

in the pain,

and what you see above is the sun

as it shined

somewhere in America

where I happen to live

at around 7:45 p.m.

That's one hot sun.

~ ~ ~

As I walked, the source

of my guilt and self-loathing solidified:

me, and a couple cats, and a friend or two,

sat in my apartment

all of this smoggy, miserable hot afternoon

and zapped that overtaxed power grid

of however many kilowats of energy

that I devoured today.

And in the meantime,

people are hot and starving

in Somalia.

Heck,

they're hot and starving somewhere

in America, too,

I'm sure,

even as I type.

(sprinkling the sidewalk)

You see, I have an intense concern for the Health of the Grid.

The Grid,

by its very design,

could go on infinitely,

or at least it could embrace the entire planet,

if we were disposed to let it do so.

( infinite grid of resistors )

Instead,

largely because of commercial interests,

it's localized;

my Grid, probably

isn't your Grid,

if you don't live

in America,

and even if you live in another part of America

my Grid may not be your Grid.

 ( celsias )

One outcome of 

this Localization of Gridded service is

The Great Grid Fear.

The Great Grid Fear, of course,

is that if we load too much energy on our regional power grid,

we'll blow the fuse,

so to speak,

which is why I was so darned upset

about my airconditioner.

I was so upset that when I came home from my walk, I turned it off.

Now part of the 

Great Grid Fear is that

one too many airconditioners

could "blow the fuse"

so to speak,

and thereby,

destroy the power source

in a large sector of the civilized world,

and if that happens,

well, hell,

we'd have to live like the people of Somalia.

And if we had to live like the people of Somalia,

well,

hot damn,

we'd probably all start dying,

in very large numbers.

And that wouldn't be good,

would it?

( cbsnews )

So we preserve the health of our

individual Grids

by keeping them local

and somewhat flawed.

In fact,

right now,

I'm quite concerned that if I turn my a.c. back on

tomorrow,

when it's predicted to be even hotter,

I may be that unlucky one

to pop the circuit on my Grid,

and if I am,

well,

I just hope no one can track it

and find out.

(But they probably can,

whoever THEY are.)

~ ~ ~

Anyway,

so after feeling Great Guilt

for the Grid,

not to mention for the emotional and physical health

of all the people in my general part of the planet, I began to think,

as I am prone to do,

that perhaps the Electrical Grid could be made more coherent

and therefore stronger

if we just found the technology to extend it 

so it embraces the entire planet --

same, too, 

with all the other grids.

After all,

that is how we perceive of our planet isn't it?

In terms of a Grid?  So why can't we use the basic model,

and extend our Power Grid

infinitely?

( crystallinks )

And if that were the case,

perhaps

we could supply electricity,

and ultimately air conditioning

to the Samalis,

not to mention the homeless under a bridge in Manhattan,

or in Mississippi,

or Honduras,

or Ipswich

or Delhi

or Rotterdam,

or San Francisco,

or where ever.

And then I wouldn't have to participate

in the Great Grid Fear,

and neither would you --

(though on some level,

we'd all participate in it equally).

Now, I'm certain

that someone with more knowledge than I

in these areas could and would

tell me why my idea is absolutely

unfeasible,

and I welcome them to do so.

But anyone who reads this blog should know

that I'm not prone to go by what is scientifically viable.

So let's just entertain the notion for a moment:

what if it were indeed possible to build a Global Power Grid?

What if we took all the money,

from all the wars

and the crime

and the useless laws

and the committees produced to perpetuate Fear,

and what if we put it towards

building global resource grids.

And what if those global grids

would make it possible to provide

food and water to all people equally?

So when the planet enters weather patterns

like we're in right now,

everyone would have equal access

to airconditioning,

and water.

And let's add food.

~ ~

Yes, I'll agree to one argument against this:

it's true that if we get hit by a meteorite,

or a massive sun flare,

it would take out the whole planet,

grid wise,

but it would probably

take out the entire planet,

too, 

so what the heck:

why not spread the wealth?

Well, perhaps,

if you've gotten this far in this goofy entry,

you're thinking: this chick is nuts,

and I'm going to unsubscribe from this blog,

or just not read it again,

ever,

or at least for a long time.

Well,

let me submit this as a final contemplation:

last night, I saw a story on the BBC

that informed me that Somalia

is officially suffering a famine.

Today, I heard that the militant, rebel Al Shahab in Somalia

who are making it impossible for foreign aid to reach some areas,

have claimed that the international declaration of "famine"

in their nation is nothing but a political move.

( Voice of America ),

and I thought:

how many Americans really know about this?

I mean, seriously folks:

we're all sitting around in our air-conditioned homes

watching the news where the headline story is

how hot we are --

and people are dying 

in large large numbers

on the other side of the globe,

and the terrorist system has become so sophisticated

that it calls International Declarations of Disastor

"political propaganda."

They sound like American politicians.

So,

a.) turn off your a.c. for a little while, and send the money you save to Somalia,

or

b.) let's build a Global Grid.

Those are my best ideas --

they're probably both pretty far-fetched,

but at least now I feel like I've contributed positively to the world,

as I sit here

sweating.

UNICEFUsa.org

Makropoulos Sings, Again, with gratitude and respect to Stevie Nicks

I know it's frustrating to hear someone other than

the original artist sing a great song like this.

I hope that no one thinks

I'm being pretentious to take this or any other song on.

I just feel like singing --

and saying stuff through singing --

and this song kind of says

the way I sometimes feel

these days.

So here it is.

A note on photos --

nearly all of the photos are by me;
the first few were taken in the desert
North East of San Diego.
the sand/sky photo
was taken on the Outer Banks.

The very last one is NOT mine,

and I'm embarrassed to admit

I can't find its source.

I found it on the internet,

when doing a search on

"Landslide Pictures."

Thanks to whomever took it, 

and posted it.

heart song

Every time a heart goes forth

on a journey to join

with another,

                         it risks a pain

                                 no body can bear;

                     it risks the 

                        burning tear

of remembering

that true union is impossible

                                                          in the land of the living.

Our hearts/Our souls

are the entity

             full;

our bodies are vessels that demand

division.

My heart

           Your heart

Seek to be whole,

but the walls of our skin

imprison.

Be still and listen

to the voice that is you,

that voice that has no body.

It is the voice of God,

                      and God

is the juncture

at which we all meet.

More Chain Letter Hopefulness

( artlies )

It appears that

the second most popular post on this blog

is called 

"The Hopefulness of the Chain Letter."

I wrote it about a particular chain letter,

well, really it was a chain e-mail,

that I received about a year ago.

That chain e-mail was called

"My Room of Eight."

(I note that a couple female bloggers have written about that same message now.

For instance, Boston Margy 

and

struckbylightening

Well, wouldn't you know it?

I got the same chain e-mail again. 

What goes around comes around, eh?

Anyway, it has been abbreviated.  I like this new version.  It goes like this:

My Table of 8 
> I am supposed to pick 8 women who have touched my life
> and whom I think might participate. Please send this back to me.
> Remember to just read the quotation. That's all you have to do. There
> is nothing attached. Just send this to eight women and let me know what
> happens on the fourth day. Sorry you have to forward the message, but
> try not to break this, please.
> 
> 
> Quote: 
> "May today there be peace within. May you trust that
> you are exactly where you are meant to be. May you not forget the
> infinite possibilities that are born of faith in yourself and others.
> May you use the gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that
> has been given to you. May you be content with yourself just the way
> you are. Let this knowledge settle into your bones, and allow your soul
> the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love. It is there for each and
> every one of us."
> 
> 
> Now, send this to 8 women or more within the next 5

> minutes. And remember to send this back. I count as 1. You'll see why.

~ ~ ~

If you read my earlier post,

you'll see why I think it's really cool

that this little message is still

in circulation.

( constable )

So I again chose my room of eight.

I chose them from the women I know closely,

and the women who I would like to have know

that I write this blog.

You see, not many people know

who writes this blog.

And that's just fine.

And I included a link to my earlier entry,

and asked them to read it,

and send it on.

This is the message I sent to them:

"This is kind of goofy.  About a year ago, I got a chain letter just like the
 one below.  And now I'm getting it again.  After receiving the first, I wrote
 something about it.  I'm attaching a link to what I wrote.  Yes, I wrote it
 under another name.

http://makropulos.blogspot.com/2010/06/hopefulness-of-chain-letter.html


Yes, you can ignore this message, and quite frankly, I don't care if you do.
 Or you can read it and send it on.  Include my link, if you want to.  And
 know, please, that you are in my room of eight."









Pass it on.
Pass it on.

Birdsong From Inside The Egg, by Jal al-Din Rumi

( RowdyBlue's WonderBlog )

Sometimes a lover of God may faint

in the presence.  Then the beloved bends

and whispers in his ear, "Beggar, spread out

your robe.  I'll fill it with gold.

I've come to protect your consciousness.

Where has it gone?  Come back into awareness!"

This fainting is because

lovers want so much.

A chicken invites a camel into her henhouse,

and the whole structure is demolished.

A rabbit nestles down

with its eyes closed

in the arms of a lion.

There is an excess

in spiritual searching

that is profound ignorance.

Let the ignorance be our teacher!

The Friend breathes into one

who has no breath.

A deep silence revives the listening

and the speaking of those two 

who meet on the riverbank.

Like the ground turning green in a spring wind.

Like birdsong beginning inside the egg.

Like this universe coming into existence,

the lover wakes, and whirls

in a dancing joy,

then kneels down

in praise.

(Rumi)

(also from Rowdyblue )

Casey Anthony, Betty Ford, and Barack Obama

I have to do this:

( duckbrand )

For the past week, I have been visiting family
which has meant I have watched a heck of a lot more television
than I usually do.

The week began with coverage of

the Casey Anthony verdict -

 I actually had very little knowledge of this trial

until this week.

I guess I'm one of very few in the U.S.A. who can say that.

So, the verdict is in;

we know what it is;

folks are angry,
lots of folks have an opinion,
and lots of folks are looking for ways
to continue to make money
off of this sad case --

On the day the verdict came in,

I vowed to not say a thing on this blog

about Casey Anthony,
because
I figured every blogger in the USA
would have something to say about it.

( please see Yahoo News
for the source of this photo & obituary )

Then,

Betty Ford died.

And today,

Barak Obama held an unusual Sunday meeting

to try to keep the U.S. government
from going into default.
No decisions were made --

the government is still divided,
and can't seem to find a way
to set aside differences and realize
exactly what is at stake.

U.S.Debt Clock

~ ~ ~

I did Google searches on all three topics,

and found that there is much more being written 

still

on Casey Anthony

then there is on

Betty Ford,

a very dignified woman who had the nerve to admit her shortcomings.
As one British newspaper article I read said, if given the chance,
Betty Ford may have been a better president
than her husband was.
-- May she rest in peace -- 

And the Anthony case may also surpass the U. S. economy
on the amount of media attention it continues to receive.

This leads me to form the hypothesis that

the American public is probably more informed on the sundry details

of a very sad murder

and a case of very poor and irresponsible parenting

than it is on their economy.

As a professional educator
in higher education in the U.S. of A.
who every year meets a new crop
of the children of the average American public,
I would venture to say that most citizens here
really do not understand
the crisis the government is in,
yet,

some have the nerve

to criticize the work of our own president,

who after a mere two years has not been able
to clean up the mess he inherited

from about 50 years (or more)
of increasingly irresponsible
government spending.

But ask most Americans about Casey Anthony,
and you will get a very informed opinion.

You know,

even a search on

"duct tape"

brings up,

first and foremost,

a number of entries

about Casey Anthony.

In fact,
I'm willing to bet that I will get quite a few hits on this blog
simply because I wrote something with
Casey Anthony's name in the title.

Let's see if I'm right.

I'm only modestly sorry
if you came to this blog to read
more dirt

on Casey Anthony,

because I'm not going to give it to you.
But I would suggest you

do a search on

the U.S. deficit,

or something else

that probably has a heck of a lot more relevance

to your own life.
And when you do that search,
please make sure you read about 10 articles
from a wide range of sources -
or read at least as many sources as you have read
about Casey Anthony,
and use the same amount of care you are taking

to form your opinion on what to do

with Casey Anthony
to form your opinion about that deficit
and the best way to support our government
so we can solve it,
rationally,
and with respect for every American,
whether we agree with them or not
 .
 .
 .
.
.

a diva for the traveler: Loreena McKennitt

I'm traveling,

not blogging,

and grateful

for music

to keep me company

on my way --

Old Friends

( layoutfashion )

My mother has a friend  she has known since she was nine.

Both are in their eighties now.

I had lunch with them today.

My Aunt, as we call her,

Though there is no blood shared,

Was always the stronger –

Or so it seemed.  Vibrant,

Provocative, absolutely gorgeous,

With Betty Boop curves

And unafraid to speak her mind,

She lorded over my mother,

Who was the meeker, the less

Confident, the demure

(though notably, my mother drove –

she forced herself to learn after two years

of post-partum agoraphobia;

and my Aunt never learned how.)

Their spouses, my father and my Uncle,

Both now long gone, having now been fully secured

To mythic status for their respective clans

Were also best friends – our families

would camp together,

Boat together,

Holiday together,

Everything together –

We were closer to them than kin,

If that’s at all possible.  Indeed

It is: my sister

Nearly married their son; their elder

Daughter was our babysitter, and knows a few

Of my most painful youthful secrets.

In the meager amount of time I’ve shared with my Aunt’s family

(a half a century or so)

I’ve witnessed her friendship with my mother change –

From buddies

To jealousies

To rivalries

To trivialities

But always, somehow they remained

Friends.

Today they sat together at table,

My Aunt now shriveled and bruised –

A brittle post-bypass diabetic,

Nearly blind.  My mother, the stronger,

Though slowed by arthritis and aided

by six cardiac stints, had made the meal –

A simple chicken salad with melon and iced tea.

The attitude between the two

old friends

is one of constant surprise

-- that they are still together --

and grim acceptance

-- that they are still together --

and gratitude.

We spoke of old times; we spoke

Of new times; or we did not speak

At all.  My former babysitter, too,

My “Cousin,” was in attendance, and we spoke

Of her grandchildren.

For four hours, I was blessed

With the comfort of the company of

People who have known me all my life  -

Who have loved me despite my distant

wanderings, who have applauded my accomplishments,

Though from afar.

The sentiment is trite,

I know,

but triteness often comes

from truth: 

How far must one travel to know

Old Friends. are perhaps

one of the few great comforts

In human existence.