Lemon Moment, Personal

Surprises

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It’s not about the things. Who doesn’t love things, whether they are practical or capricious? A friend who shares my birthday surprised me with a capricious bug catcher. It’s colorful and whimsical. Next to it is a nice rain jacket. I joke that I will wear it while I’m standing in the river so that I don’t get wet. A handmade personalized card. I have one from my sister but in typical me fashion, I set it aside so that I wouldn’t lose it. Now that I wanted to have it in the picture, I can’t for the life of me remember where I put it! I got a set of beautiful mugs for future trips and tree hanging. The Encyclopedia Brown book is from last Christmas. I loved those books when I was young. I much prefer surprising people for both their birthdays and random days than I do receiving gifts. But that in no way lessens how much I appreciate the tangible and touchable just as much as I appreciate the words and the exchanged humor that accompanies such landmark days. I know what y’all are thinking. The bug catcher is too small to catch my manager, so he is safe.
Love, X
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Personal, Social Rules

Are You Happy?

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Something I used to ask people often instead of the traditional, “How are you?”
It’s time to dust it off and either create a bit of laughter or a bit of contemplation. Both are equally important. Not quite as important as remembering to keep your fly up, but somewhere on that scale.
X
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Poetry And Prose, Privacy, Security, Social Media, Writing

Creeper

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creeper

in the moon’s embrace you prowl
a phantom of obsidian head and secrets
eyes like shards of fractured glass
watching and tracking her every step

you had your chance and now it’s flown
your deepest secrets on display and shown

she asked for honesty, attention, and time

you made her an option and squandered her touch
your interest morphed into obsession
though she’s free of your clutch

move your fingers from the keys in front of you
go out aside and get perspective

she’s gone
she’s gone

and you should be too

Personal, Poetry And Prose, Writing

poet

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poet

she told me with certainty that I was already a poet
that the day would not come in which it dawned upon me that I indeed was

it was not intended as a compliment
no more than noting the weather had shifted

almost mumbling, she added that rules in poetry are like ducks with paper clips

her words put an image in my head
just as sometimes mine remind you of an emotion

i am a poet and have been for years

it’s not a question

sometimes we need permission from strange sources

and sometimes little scribbles on a page translate viscerally into ideas

language is both for the meticulous user and the abuser

there is no deed or title for expression

i am both failure and success

X
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Lemon Moment, Personal

3:33

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Though it was almost 50°, the wind howled in the predawn morning. I stood motionless in the woods, back pressed against a tree. Waiting for deer. None came. But quiet thoughts did. The moon above me was rendered glossy by the clouds racing overhead. The world was dark but the wind buffeted everything. 3:33 a.m. is a distinct world.
X
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Airbnb, Lemon Moment, Personal

Me

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I went out into the woods early here in the hollers of Bella Vista. Though I was watchful, I didn’t see the deer until they ran and crashed away. The thick mass of leaves made surreptitious approach impossible. I saw one large buck. I was 15 feet from them. As I stood hanging another cup in the trees, I could hear a buck snorting. Above, hawks were already swooping and prowling the early overcast morning. Carolina chickadees, a solitary woodpecker, robins, fish crows, and other birds around me sang and pecked, ignoring the cold. It was both a lemon moments and stolen one.

Just me in the trees, surrounded.

It was a beautiful moment. I thought of one of my favorite quotes, “You can’t take a picture of this, it’s already gone.”
I felt a pang of aloneness, just as I had yesterday when I went down and snapped a picture of last visit’s cup.

I whispered, “Tomorrow.” There isn’t one. Only now.

Love, X
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Behavior, Opinion

Slice At Your Discretion

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Take all the time you need. It’s infinite, after all, isn’t it? I’ll not take offense at how you apportion it. For in the apportioning, we gauge our importance. The pie is of equal radius for each of us. How we slice it is for us to determine. And for others to wonder why they go hungry in the apportioning. My words sometimes lean towards cynicism. For that lesser emotion, I can only ask for forgiveness. Cynicism is at its heart both frustration and anger. We imagine how things should be or how we wish they would be. Sometimes founded with experience and sometimes amplified by a dark filter we hold in front of our eyes. We judge others for how they slice and apportion their pie. Even as we fail to measure our own. If you are not deliberately apportioning your pie and life and giving your time to the things that matter to you, you’ve lost. You’re supposed to listen to me about some of these things. Because I sit and contemplate my hypocrisy when I write things like this. 

Love, X

Lemon Moment, Personal

A Better Someone

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He didn’t ask for anything.

I said, “I apologize for any awkwardness. Would you like this?” It doesn’t matter what it was. You can use your imagination. 

He looked at me and smiled. “Thank you!”

We talked for a couple of minutes. As I walked away, he asked me to hold on a second. 

He fished something out of his pocket and held it out. I took it from him. It was a dollar coin, shiny and new.

“I’m not going to say I’m not going to take it because you want me to have it. What’s the story? I know there is one.” I asked him.

He hesitated. 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I love good stories.”

He said, “I always carry three of these new coins. One for the past, one for the future, and one for the now. Even though they’re the same, I like to imagine I’m giving away the coin that is the past. Sometimes I have to spend them.” 

“Damn,” I said, surprised. “That is interesting.” And I meant it.

“If someone needs it, give it to them.” I was walking away when he said that. It made me temporarily mute, so I just nodded. 

PS Earlier in the morning, I had a similar moment with another man. Though he did not have much, he always took the time to take the little extra he had and walk it to one of the small parking lot food pantries in Fayetteville. If I were looking for the definition of a kind, charitable heart, it would be him.

The brooch is one I wore today. I loved telling people, “It’s a brooch to celebrate my new promotion to Dance Commander.” The responses varied, but all made the day a little more interesting.

Love, X

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Behavior, Death, Opinion, Personal, Psychology, Social Rules

Age

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Age

You wouldn’t enthusiastically take advantage of another opportunity to return to your youth. Invariably, when discussion of such a fantasy arises, the older giveaway their intentions by framing it in terms of money. Money gives options. But there are few among us who truly shine in the application of appreciating that time and experiences are what makes life worthwhile. Stop telling the younger generation to take advantage. With your wrinkled brow, we see you. Failing to balance the opportunity of the day or the years ahead of you. No one knows when the shadow might darken their door. Your age and experience should push you to squeeze out both simple pleasures and large. The decades behind you paved an infinite path of choices. Just as the young people in front of you might if they’re lucky. It’s hard to expect yolo or carpe diem from the younger generation because we have the disparate expectations of responsibility and stability. For similar reasons, the older among us can’t let go of the stability tethers that we need. Both groups are in the same boat. Regardless, living by example is the best sermon you can give anyone. Words are easy and change is hard. Most of us can’t even gleefully listen to another genre of music without being dismissive. Much less trying new foods, new words, or mindsets that might serve us better. We reach the point where we decide we’re done. Routine and stability bring comfort. But they also suffocate the opportunity to become renewed.

Love, X