Parental Discretion is Advised…

January 8th, 2010
by Dust-Dog

Some people tell me, “We choose our parents before we are born..”

The idea behind this is, “stop blaming them and learn the lessons they were meant to teach you, and move on!”

The whole thing seems aimed at the foundational piece of work we call “accountability” – meaning, let go blaming externals for your circumstance, and address the only real changes you can make – changes to your self.

So, all in all, a good call, but a strange belief system to get there.

So, if I can indeed choose my parents before I was born, that implies some kind of “catalog” system, where you can choose from a variety of models.  Perhaps, “blond or brunette”?  Perhaps, “Hungarian or Australian”?  Perhaps “angry,  moody, creative vodka-drinkers as opposed to “camouflaged, repressed, white anglo-saxon protestants”?

It’s amazing what this “catalog of parents” might have looked like.  Let’s back up here a bit: there’s many assumptions that would have to be in place to “buy in” to this little belief system, akin to the leap we need to make to “buy in” to any religion.

Since we’re “choosing” our parents, this decision-making process must require some kind of brain activity, such as the ability to perceive, see or sense the choices; then the discernment, judgment or intuition needed to make the “correct” choice, based on the “lessons” we need to learn; therefore memory cells that hold the lesson plan as well.  So, it seems a “brain” of some kind would be needed, long before conception took place, in order to sift through these possibilities and weigh them out.

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The Christmas of One

December 21st, 2009
by Dust-Dog

Christmas:

Solitude vs Ceremony.

Better Half of Christmas

And you wonder,
somewhere in the
cracks of uncertainty:
who is “Christ” in all this …
if this really, indeed celebrates
the birth of an enigmatic teacher,
then, where-oh-where
is Teacher and Teachings
in all this?

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The Call of the World

December 17th, 2009
by Dust-Dog

The World has many voices.

Voices, Faces

We listen to them all.

We believe many of them.

We are pulled, pushed, nudged, awakened, sedated, seduced, mystified, bewildered and entertained by these voices.

We rarely question.

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I Quit TV

December 15th, 2009
by Dust-Dog

Yesterday, I quit watching TV.

Officially.

I got this great “communications” package a few months back from one of our local magnanimous Communications Giants.  Phone, internet and TV all for a ridiculous price.  How kind of them.

It even includes a “Personal Video Recorder”, which hums incessantly in the background of my apartment.  Apparently, you can use this device to record the little gems you missed on the 500-channel universe, while you were too busy wasting your time with other distractions.

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Today

December 8th, 2009
by Dust-Dog

Today.

Now.

As I sit & write.

The fine lines of snow collected on the cloud.

Steam of coffee vapor pours from my cup.

Life is Alright because I made it so.

Life tastes good because I followed the innate Recipe.

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The Beloved

November 18th, 2009
by Dust-Dog

In our Daily conversations,
our Wanderings,
There are words that come up
and Words that Fall Down.

There is a Life Lived between Sentences,
A fragrance in the Dots, the Pronouns,
the Fresh Morning Adjectives.

We speak of Love rarely in our Lives,
As though Love is a Four-Letter word,
discouraged through Generations of History,
Frowned-Upon by the Mentors of an
Technicality-Hungry culture.

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the Quiet Dream

October 25th, 2009
by Dust-Dog

sand1

 

There is a Quiet Dream,
a Small Self that remains un-lived.
A Bouquet of Promises, a Banquet of Streams.

Through the doorway of Internal Self
we glimpse the Eternal Self: beautiful, small,
well-formed, delicately-maintained,
Impeccable in its un-judged perfection.

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Heart

October 22nd, 2009
by Dust-Dog

We talk about the “heart”.

Do we know what this place is;  do we know this feeling well enough to call it our home?


When I grew up,
we were not instructed in the understanding of this.  The only “heart” we knew was the embarrassing crimson blob we’d see on Valentine’s cards from adoring classmates, once a year.   Then, of course, the word was used carefully, guardedly, in relation to romance and those fleeting bottle-of-wine-in-the-meadow moments that often turn into jaded and forgotten memories.

And “heart”, for most of us, became an unknown item on an illegible menu in a cafe whose doors were closed to business.

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Rain

October 18th, 2009
by Dust-Dog

This Feeling

has been described as “Rain”.

There is a sense of accumulation
in who we are, what we move with,
breathe with,
carry …
on a Daily Basis.

Humans: what we gather
and hang onto, is not usually
the good, the clean, the nourishing.
It is more often the toxic, the negating,
the poisons.

The Un-Resolved, and Never-Removed.

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The Place of Stillness

October 17th, 2009
by Dust-Dog

Life Moves.

So do We.

Constantly.

Birdwater

Outer.  Inner. Circles. Storms. Motion, commotion.

Location, place, thing, river, wind, dust.  Nothing stays still.

Our mind engages. In all this movement.  And man, in his blurry and distorted wisdom, seeks not only to “keep up” with this circus, but to amp it up further, to the point of madness.

Cell phones bleeping and blopping. Car horns.  Animated TV commercials playing on taxi hub-caps. The blind leading the blind in a dance of Faster, Further, More, Louder, Longer, Stranger.  Television content that says Nothing in ten thousand different ways.  We’re a kid in a candy-store of a million choices, all of them bad for our health, all of them promising Immediate Sensory Enlightenment.

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