October 2010
1 post
the new season
You can feel it in your bones.
The moment the wind hits you…
You arch your back and breathe deep.
You stare into the cobalt sky and realize that the new season is on its way from the great North.
Though we, as a country, celebrate the New Year at the end of that Yuletide month, Fall brings upon me a feeling of new. The leaves are changing and scarves loop their way around our bare necks. I...
September 2010
1 post
Pecans, Coffee and the Lounging Roach
Many of us called her “G.G” – short for Great Grandmother. She was also known as Bonnie and to a few, Mother. She was my “mom’s mother’s Mom” if such a phrase makes sense. It’s the only way I can say it without the lineage becoming too fuzzy or dropping names that you probably already know.
G.G was a character in a world that seemed to be moving too fast. Walking into her home that had seen...
August 2010
1 post
precious little bits.
“I’m Hannah’s husband…” I said to the midwife wearing all white, which grew into the color of her long and wise head of hair.
“I know who you are…come in!” she said in an excited whisper.
I walk past a beautiful old black and gold stove that has cooked hot meals for many exhausted Mommas after giving birth to their sweet little ones. I am nervous and intimidated by these midwives – not so...
July 2010
4 posts
the working poor [and why people just don't get...
I’m reading a book right now entitled, “The Working Poor” by David K. Shipler I’m not very far into it, but the first sentence pretty much broke me down… He writes: “Most of the people I write about in this book do not have the luxury of rage…” And so it goes, the oxymoronic term, “working poor” - why those who work generally the hardest...
my rant on WI-FI
[As a preface, I direct all of this upon myself, because I am an addict of destination wifi spots and the “oh so” convenient idea of wireless internet…EVERYWHERE.] It’s a sunny day in Portland, so most are outside. Sipping their Rosé and snacking on some nice home-baked goodies. I notice the inside crowd. Hunkered in front of their laptops — generally facebook or...
"perhaps we begin again, shyly.."
There’s this song by My Brightest Diamond called, “The Ice & The Storm” I’ve always found it to be a song on communication and perhaps the lack there of. The Ice, being a metaphor for miscommunication, builds up in our places of shared intimacy. The Storm, being that of “hashing out” and conversation, is the force that drives us all to talk about our...
change gonna come. [soulful sirens]
He throws down his tip box on the curb side, straightens up his shirt and sings. I hear, belted out, those familiar words to an old song, “I was born by the river…” Sam Cooke’s, A Change is Gonna Come fills the back streets along the French Quarter - weaving in and out of drunken circles and out-of-towners on that haunted tour. It’s a wistful cry to a reality close...
June 2010
7 posts
what Mother gave to us
I think about the harvest. Whether or not a farmer is sad to see those greens, reds, browns and golds disappear from the dirt he or she’s tilled from start to finish. I wonder if there’s sadness and hopefully thankfulness as it produced a good yield. Another year to grow. Back to this tired dirt and placing that worn down wood back into those worn down hands. There must be some sort of...
we are angry.
I know it’s worthless to rant. I know there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it. But I say, We are angry. [and so very sad.] And so we should be. I sit helplessly watching this decrepit pipe gush oil in the waters of my homeland. I watch from the coast of the Pacific Northwest and exclaim the beauty of these waters; the cold crisp blue into dark mysterious rock. This dirty water,...
people. [and the hurtful hot chocolate guy]
Everyday, I watch people shake hands, hug and talk. I watch people love and often, become angry at one another. [And sometimes, towards myself.] This is the life of someone who has a tiny part in one person’s struggle to learn the other. We are all simply fascinated with one another. I don’t think we’ll come out and say it, but we are. This is why TV provides such great...
messy economics [and the pickle man]
I’m afraid of power. Having it and working under its great strain. It’s that lifting of my head to a person who controls the money I make and the mood I’m in. Your day is good or bad depending on the mood of the people that sign your checks and give you some sort of purpose within this free market economy. I think and think and wonder what sort of work is meaningful to...
the empty space.
There’s this empty space that belongs to God. Generally, it’s filled with things of my own pleasure. Nice things. Shiny and colorful. Probably expensive. When this empty space isn’t so empty, things feel great. Paying bills. Buying nice food. Spending money on things that’ll eventually turn back into dirt. You’re a big deal…you make a good bit of...
prayer [and the uncomfortable change]
I remember a time long ago when I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep until I had said something to God. I called it prayer. But mostly it was half conscious mumbling before falling asleep at two or three in the morning. It was like a final confession or some sort of relief to get the guilt of not praying off my back. I’m not sure why it was associated with guilt, but I felt as though...
May 2010
4 posts
a weighty ghost [and your purpose driven...
For some reason, I hit my deepest points of philosophical reasoning and messy spirituality five minutes or so before falling asleep at night. It seems there’s this place my brain goes to shut down — to filter out the noise that helps me fall asleep. What I’m left with are things that are often scary and true, gut wrenching and humorous. I feel bad for Hannah, who half-awake,...
the conversation of a lifetime [and I want your...
I had this thought after watching “Notorious” - the movie inspired by the life and death of Christopher Wallace..aka Notorious B.I.G. aka.. “Biggie Smalls” [And really taken aback by the fact he was killed at the age of 24] I was thinking on Tupac Shakur and the likes…the seeming revolutionaries that lived life too short and too fast. Killed by the very thing they...
the trees will bend in sacred grace
Things are really scattered. The world is bleeding from oceans and rock and ice. A man kills a teacher and her children with a butcher’s knife and somehow, we wipe our foreheads at the end of the day and give thanks. Markets are crashing around the world and terrorism finds its way onto our streets. Something we, as Americans, are just not used to. We’re not used to bombs or threats...
moving in.
In and out of sacred spaces, we place our things. We place on our shelves what are meaningful and what we like to see at eye level from time to time. Our homes are collectively who we are. The paint. The cracks. The smells. I remember my friends houses smelling like their laundry detergent. I had always wondered if my house had a “smell”. Which I assumed after a while that…it...
April 2010
4 posts
What I've Been Wanting to Say
I was mid way through college when I started to feel this thing inside of my chest itch relentlessly. There was something about an old van driving through pockets of life from what Don Miller called, “Painted Deserts”. It caused a shift in the way I saw most things. Human interactions. People. Pain. Nature. There was now this giant hole that needed to be filled. And that itch became...
buddy fish [another tale of the south]
My tiny niece calls her little brother, “Buddy Fish” sometimes. Well, she calls him Buddy and naturally his last name is Smith. But when it comes out, it sounds like “Fish”. Here, lies the legend of Buddy Fish. Actually, there’s no legend. I just thought it was really funny and one of the most [for lack of better word] precious things I’ve seen in a long time....
stages. [of prose]
Poetry intimidates me. I don’t feel like I’m old enough to really appreciate it. Like..maybe it requires a lot of life experience, kids or some epic Tolstoy journey. Mostly, I’m wrong and feel intimidated by things I don’t understand all that well. I was at a poetry reading last week for my sis-by-marriage, Leah. [who is, an amazing writer.] I call her Leah “The...
[the] joy and suffering of knowledge.
My mom-by-marriage says, “to love is to suffer..” And I agree. Wholeheartedly. I would even take that a step forward and say that [some] knowledge brings that same suffering. At least, the knowledge of evil. Of suffering and of hell on earth. I put up that facade where everything seems fine, even when I pass by the men and women on the streets - begging for a few dollars…a...
March 2010
5 posts
Momma
And so it goes, as we share our stories and remember how our characters have formed, there is this woman that I can never leave out. She is, without a doubt, the woman who knows my heart in no other way. My sweet Momma. Sometimes, I think of the things in life that could have easily led me down far worse roads than others have accused me of… In those moments of conviction, character and...
dandelions. [a garden of my own]
Okay, so I have a thing about dandelions. I don’t exactly remember them in their yellow flower form, but I do remember growing up and blowing the whimsical “parachute ball” (as they call it) all over the place. I didn’t know this caused more dandelions to grow. I’m sure my parents really enjoyed that. Oh, the fun and intimidating process of flower reproduction....
good stories.
I thought to myself, “We’re all different now…” Some of us have babies. Some of us will…soon. Some of us have mustaches now. Well, when I come to think of it, we were all different then…too. But we wouldn’t say it. We all generally liked the same things – listened to the same music and played the same video game till 4am, then slept till noon and did the same thing all over again. I loved it. I...
A Hopeful Discussion: Our Relationship with the...
Hannah and I were sitting over coffee talking about things, when this topic came up. I had written something about how the poor and disabled lead us to the heart of God, more than any other thing, in my past experience that is. And granted, I live in a city where homelessness is visible on most street corners holding cardboard signs that read, “Pennies help!” and “Will take...
Ignorance is Bliss
I came across an article the other day that read mostly about atheists and liberals having a higher I.Q. I thought it was interesting - and have been thinking why this might be, or why it’s even important. For one, it’s not important to me. I don’t think having a higher I.Q. makes you a better person than the next and the same goes for having a…not so good I.Q. My hang ups...
February 2010
6 posts
"Messenger" by Mary Oliver
My work is loving the world. Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird — equal seekers of sweetness. Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums. Here the clam deep in the speckled sand. Are my boots old? Is my coat torn? Am I no longer young, and still not half-perfect? Let me keep my mind on what matters, which is my work, which is mostly standing still and learning to be ...
don't write a bad romance.
I turned the radio down to get rid of some of that noise. I don’t know, I think it was that terrible song by Akon that talks about saying how a girl is fine, without being disrespectful [which the song itself contradicts its meaning]. Or that, “Tik-Tok” song that’s so bad, I find myself looking at her music on iTunes to find a song just as ridiculous. But it’s just noise. And it’s bad noise –...
the place of sacred things.
There is a place for sacred things. Tangibly, they are on our dressers, chests and shelves. Sometimes, they’re surrounded by the ash of incense or a picture or nothing at all. But they are sacred and they are held in your heart. Every so often, I glance down at my wrists to find the two post-India tattoos inspired by a somewhat, transformation of simplicity, poverty and injustice. There is a...
January 2010
8 posts
a lesson in humanity, toys and motor oil
I was in Fred Meyer a few weeks ago buying some oil for the car. In order to get to the “Miscellaneous Car Accessories” section of Freddie’s, you have to pass by the toys and very large amount of tacky post-seasonal merchandise. I came across a little boy screaming and crying because he wanted this truck…I mean…he wanted this truck so badly. His dad, who had his...
what matters.
I want to know what matters to you, because sometimes, the world seems like such a dark place. Replace the word “seems” with “is”, and you’ll see what I’m really thinking. I find myself at times, when the sky turns darker, reading stories and watching videos of disasters, screaming and gnashing of teeth. Hell.On.Earth. Being executed for some crime, or for...
Peace, Sustainability & Reconciliation
I’ve had the opportunity to witness two different John Perkins speak. Both authors..activists and speakers with organizations designed to make this world a better, more peaceful place. There is the John Perkins of Mendenhall, Mississippi. This Perkins is one of the major contributing and founding fathers for centers of reconciliation all across the US. Of course, his story brings about a sadness...
a letter to haiti
we see that you are suffering and our hearts are breaking. I watched a video this morning of one your daughters, trapped underneath the rubble. She was 11 years old and moaning as her tiny body was damaged - and though she was able to get out, she cried as her last words, “Momma, don’t let me die…” And so I sat there and saw in this girl’s eyes a hope to live;...
Our "We" - Thoughts on Avatar, White "Messiah"...
**[There may be some spoilers about the movie, Avatar, if you haven’t seen it yet. Just a warning. No one likes a spoiler! ha.]** Lately, I’ve been thinking about “we”. When I say “we”, I include community - who we belong to and more importantly, who we stand with and support. I’ve been having a lot of weight on me lately - about things I’ve been...
- My Letter to 2009 - [part 2]
Growing up, the idea of Oregon came through a 2-D computer game where I neglected my little brother who had dysentery to hunt for more food — even if I couldn’t carry it all the way back to my wagon. Hey, priorities are priorities, am I right? Besides the fact, most people liked hunting more than anything else - though most those people are pacifists these days. East Oregon looks a...
- My Letter to 2009 - [part one]
Shifting around ideas, dreams and experiences of the past year - I forget what it means to be thankful for a new year and also to remember and contemplate on the year that has just passed. I stare off at a blank wall, deciding what comes first — freedom from academia and a trip that would change my world. I purchase a world map because I like maps. Okay, I love maps and I’m not sure...
December 2009
3 posts
peace and a lesson in biscuit making
I steady my thoughts as the word, “peace” saturates itself in my mind. I figured Christmas to be a time of peaceful tidings and warm spicy drinks [and oh, it is!] , but as a friend brought to my attention this weekend, I’m living a bit contradictory to this season of “peace”. There are good reminders as we fall upon this season - when people are just a little bit...
a native son.
Sometimes, I’m quieter here - but there’s so much to say. I remember the hidden wound. There’s that invisible line of social class - serving old white people as their hands raise in a dismissal that hurts when I imagine it done to me. I try to wonder if I’m over-exaggerating this, but I see it so often upon what we have somehow deemed to be second-class citizens. But,...
a letter to december.
To December [or whomever it may concern], You’re cold. At least here, you are. Cold air seems cleaner to me but I think it’s just psychological. Cinnamon smells like Christmas. Any other time I smell Cinnamon…it smells like Cinnamon. My birthday is in December. Celebrating life is necessary - this year it was simple and calm. Usually I’m worried about everyone calling me,...
November 2009
6 posts
Man of God
I found God in myself and I loved her I loved her fiercely - Ntozake Shange
I’m a man…but I do not know fully of what that entails. I grow weary of “Be a better man” sort of books, or themes such as “Wild at Heart” that teach me to not be a “wimpy nice guy” and become the man made in the Image of God…and discover my “authentic masculinity”, which these days, seems kind of...
waterlogged cardboard.
I hear my doorbell ring followed shortly by a few rushed knocks. I know who it is – but my heart can’t stand to turn down a small request. Angry. Frustrated with a hurtful past interaction and my inability to trust him again. You forced me into a hard situation – one that made me look like a bad person. The person I became after that showed me a much misunderstood brokenness. When I’m alone, you...
pajama pants and biscuits. [drinking from the same...
the day is set right with a little Rosie Thomas and Ani DeFranco. it’s a good day off, spent resting with my wife - watching movie trailers, drinking strong pressed coffee - eating not the best of breakfast foods, but necessary for our lazy sunday. pajama pants and biscuits. cold and rainy outside, but it’s okay today. It’s okay to be inside and not feel guilty for wasting a...
"I'll eat you up, I love you so!"
I’ll be honest and say I’ve never read, “Where the Wild Things Are”. I may have actually…a long time ago, but I don’t remember it. I watched it tonight and half way through I whispered to Hannah in a half smile, “…this is weird.” As to which no surprise Hannah responded, “Yeah, I love it!” It was weird, but I really liked it...
lost love
I lost a lotta love when I started to care for our LGBT brothers and sisters. It was fine to talk about injustice and poverty and oppression, but apparently, I hit the “don’t wanna talk about it” button hard. It is an issue we JUST DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT. But I need to… And I’m not saying these things to bring up old issues…or to get more...