Morning Memory Picture Show

I wake in the dark stillness of the early morning with only the sound of the gentle popping lips floating from the other side of the bed and the forced air shushes of the breathing machine flowing through my Darth Vader mask. One flickering wink is all that is needed to make the choice to close my eyelids like one closes window shades to shut out the world. I want to return to my half dream state in which the mind’s eye views the imagined pictures of memories. I float through the memories of my early life and, as much as I want to linger over every memory, turning and viewing the mirages from every angle, bringing out the details like one develops the latent images of a photograph, the memories move away at their own speed vanishing like smoke vanishes into the air and like a gentle rain vanishes into the ground.

Opening the kitchen cabinets, I pull out my musical pot and spoon instrument to play a tribal melody. Scooting down the nursery school slide, dressed in dark shorts, a light shirt and suspenders, laughing and the run to the ladder to do it again and again. Standing at the front door, I cry as my mother drives away while Anna comforts me. Playing in the bathtub, entering with baby-like smooth skin and leaving with the wrinkled covering of an ancient man. Stretching hand over hand on the monkey bars and gliding to and fro as my brother pushes the swing’s seat and runs beneath. Watching my dog chasing round and round without ever catching his tail. Exploring the hedge maze on the corner hoping to create an adventure. Sitting on the porch waiting for my father to cruise into the drive. Coming into the house to the smell of chocolate chip cookies baking. Catching flickering fireflies in glass jars on warm spring evenings. Designing quickly vanishing air paintings with sizzling sparklers.

Then the memory picture show is interrupted by the soft whispering tones of “happy birthday”, and my day and a new year begins with a smile on my face.

What We Don't Know

We don’t know what we don’t see that the other sees,
We don’t know what we don’t hear that the other hears,
We don’t know what we don’t feel that the other feels,
For you are you, I am me, and that’s the way it has to be

We don’t know the skies in which the other flies
We don’t know the waters in which the other swims
We don’t know the mountains that the other climbs
For you are you, I am me, and that’s the way it has to be

We don’t know the songs that the other sings
We don’t know the loves that the other loves
We don’t know the dreams that the other dreams
For you are you, I am me, and that’s the way it has to be

We don’t know the moments that the other lives
We don’t know the days and weeks that the other lives
We don’t know the world in which the other lives
For you are you, I am me, and that’s the way it has to be

Even though we know so much is out of sight
Even though we know so much cannot be shared
Even though we know what we don’t know
We know that you are you, I am me and together we are we

For we is what binds us together in an unbreakable bond
For we is what lights our path as we walk together holding hands
For we is what gives us strength as together we live our lives
For you may be you, I may be me, but what matters is that we are we

It's A Long Road Out of Paradise and I'm in No Rush to Return

In the beginning "the earth was without form and empty, with darkness on the face of the depths".

Depths like that within the womb, without form and empty, filled with darkness, until male and female join together and new life is created.

Created as in Genesis - "male and female He created them", created at the same time, as equals, and placed in the Garden of Eden, just as within the womb new life is placed and bound.

Bound in a place without awareness, without spiritual growth, without learning, for everything is provided, in the Garden of Eden and the womb.

In the Garden of Eden and the womb, where personal efforts are not required, challenges are absent, needs are non-existent.

Non-existent just as are desires, losses and tears, non-existent for all is there for the taking.

Taking without effort, taking without appreciation, taking without understanding, taking without love, without even an understanding of love.

Love does not exist, in the Garden of Eden or in the womb, for without awareness, there only is . . .
Existence
Existence without knowledge,
Existence without the knowledge that comes from experiences.

Experiences that only are found on the journey that begins when woman and man are expelled from the Garden of Eden to discover life,

Life filled with the knowledge of good and evil, life filled with work to produce food, shelter and clothing, life lived with the knowledge that life will end somewhere along the journey.

The journey that for each starts upon being expelled from the womb, our own personal original Garden of Eden, to venture forth to experience all that life has to offer, satiation and hunger, successes and failures, joy and sadness, birth and death, love and loss, sunrises and sunsets.

Sunsets that one day come without a sunrise, a final sunset that signals the return to the womb of Mother Earth, to the earth’s Garden of Eden, to the place where there is no further awareness, no further needs, no further desires.

Desires that propel us along life’s journey, a journey with its share of losses, pain and tears, a journey filled with more than its share of learning, loving and living, a journey to be appreciated and savoured.

Having left the Garden of Eden, I am in no rush to return.

The Smile

Pictures capture only moments
Moments reflect only instances
Instances are fleeting

But imagine a life
Captured in pictures
Each picture containing a smiling face

Not just a smile
But a radiating smile
One that warms all who see it.

Not just a radiating warming smile
But a smile that says "I love you"
A love that fills the essence of your soul

Not just an "I love you" smile
But a smile that says "I love this world"
A love that changes the way of life.

Not just a life changing smile
But a smile that says "I love life"
A love that makes you remember how great it is to be alive

Not just a smile
But a window to the world
A reflection of the love inside spilling out

A love that was put into action
A love that called others to action
A love that cared for others

A love that caused others to care
A love that knew no end
A love that created unending love in others

Pictures capture only moments
Moments reflect only instances
Instances are fleeting

But the memory of the smile
The memory and the love will live on
The memory and love of Peter.

Memories and Visions

All the times that I remember
Looking back over fifty-seven years
Love and smiles and laughter
Sadness, frowns and sometimes tears

And I cherish every single moment
From childhood to this very day
For life is a wonderful journey
In which I continue to find my way

Sometimes life’s path has been cloudy and dark
More often light has filled every corner of my life
Sometimes the going seemed so easy
Occasionally the path was littered with strife

I know enough to be so thankful
For each moment and how I am blessed
For the life that I am living
Is the only one and also the best

So as I celebrate my birthday
And slide quietly into another year
I am filled with love and hope
With visions that are quiet clear

I see all my life has been
And all my life can still be
And with all that I have learned
I will live my life now stretching before me

Through the sunrises and sunsets
Through the clouds and stormy days
I will try to live as well as I can
For what more can I pray

So I venture into tomorrow
Remembering from where I came
Knowing that all that I can strive for
Is always to do honor to my name.

A New Garden - 2009

The seeds were dropped gently into the welcoming soil
Then each was covered with a loving touch
Water was added until moisture surrounded the seeds
Then it was time to wait and wait and wait

While on the surface there was no sign of life
Beneath the sprouts to be were being nourished
Until like a chick breaking out of its shell
The unseen seedlings break free from their encasements

Then feeling the warmth and sensing the light
The sprouts begin the journey out of the rich dark soil
Until in a Rocky like pose they reach toward the sky
Silently shouting in celebration

The sprouts of cucumber and squash race forth
While the tomatoes of multiple varieties
Move forth in an orderly no need to rush fashion
And the peppers refuse to get out from under the covers

The excitement of watching new life burst forth
The thrill of knowing that the circle is unbroken
The hope for all that the growing season will bring
The anticipation of the fruits and vegetables of my labors.

Twenty-Six Years Today

My brother's voice came through the phone with a directness that is saved for these types of calls
Dad is in the hospital - He passed out this morning - The ambulance rushed him to the hospital - Mom is there with him - So is Phyllis - That's all I know.

The second call came within minutes and my brother's voice is different, the voice that is saved for these types of calls
Dad is gone - I don't know what happened - There was a code blue - They couldn't save him - That's all I know - I am so sorry - I love you - Dad is gone.

I hung up the phone overwhelmed, in an instant the world having changed in a way that is saved for these types of losses
Dad is gone - No more calls - No more source of fatherly advice - No more fatherly love - No more fatherly smiles and jokes - No more father-son relationship - No more shared times.

I packed without thought and went home in a dazed trip that is saved for these types of returns home.
Dad is gone - Mom needs support - Funeral plans need to be made - Stories need to be shared - Plans for the living need to be made.

I looked at Dad's final resting place with a teary stare that is saved for these types of good-byes
Dad is physically gone - Dad's voice is gone from the world - Dad's touch is gone - Dad's smiles are gone - Dad's pride is gone.

I moved forward in life in the way that one must with a strength that is saved for these types of life changes
Dad's words still can be heard in my mind - Dad's eyes still stare at me in the mirror - Dad's advice still guides me - Dad's love will never be lost.

Thanks Dad!

But I Was Wrong

As a wide eyed three year old
I left the protective shell of my home behind and entered nursery school
Certain that a great play adventure awaited me
But I had no way of knowing the life that awaited me.

As a confident five year old,
I left the childish play of nursery school behind and entered kindergarten
Certain that I understood the ways of the big kid world
But I was wrong for there was so much more to learn.

As an excited nine year old,
I left the childish play of the primary grades behind and entered fourth grade
Certain that I understood the ways of the upper school world
But I was wrong for there was so much more to learn.

As an eager twelve year old,
I left the elementary ways of the upper grades behind and entered junior high
Certain that I understood the ways of the endless hallways and changing classes
But I was wrong for there was so much more to learn.

As a feeling my oats fifteen year old,
I left junior high grades behind and entered high school
Certain that I understood the ways of the teenage world
But I was wrong for there was so much more to learn.

As an independent eighteen year old,
I left high school behind and entered college
Certain that I understood the ways of the world
But I was wrong for there was so much more to learn.

As a confident twenty-one year old,
I left college behind and entered the work world
Certain that I understood the ways of adults
But I was wrong for there was so much more to learn.

As an adventurous twenty-five year old,
I left the work world temporarily behind and entered graduate school
Certain that I understood my profession and the working world
But I was wrong for there was so much more to learn.

As a self believing twenty-six year old,
I left graduate school behind and re-entered teacherhood
Certain that I understood how to shape the minds of children
But I was wrong for there was so much more to learn.

As an joyful twenty-eight year old,
I left single life behind and entered married life
Certain that I understood love and relationships
But I was wrong for there was so much more to learn.

As a prepared for what may come twenty-eight year old
I left the paying work world behind and entered law school
Certain that I understood what awaited me
But I was wrong for there was so much more to learn.

As a saddened thirty year old,
I said good-bye to my father (twenty-six years ago today)
Certain that I understood what it meant to be an independent adult
But I was wrong for there was so much more to learn.

As an excited thirty-one year old, thirty-five year old and forty-year old
I said hello to each of my children with thrill and sky-high dreams
Certain that I understood how to raise a child
But I was wrong for there was so much more to learn.

As a thought I was prepared thirty-one year old
I said good-bye to law school and entered the legal world
Certain that I understood how to be a lawyer
But I was wrong for there was so much more to learn.

As content fifty year old
I said good-bye to the first half century and hello to my fifties
Certain that I understood how to live and love
But I was wrong for there was so much more to learn.

As a saddened fifty-six year old,
I said good-bye to my mother
Certain that I understood the ways of life
But I was wrong for there was so much more to learn.

As a confident fifty-five year old lawyer and employer
I surveyed my professional life
Certain that I understood how to operate in my professional world
But I was wrong for there was so much more to learn.

Now as a "days away from being" fifty-seven years old
I reflect upon my life - my family, my friends, my work, my interests
Certain that I understand how to balance and orchestrate my life
But even now I know that I will be wrong

For having taken this introspective journey
Through a life for which I am thankful
I now am certain that I understand
There always is so much more to learn.

The Eyes Have It

The baby’s eyes darted continuously for everything was new.
The child’s eyes opened wide for everything was exciting.
The young person’s eyes glanced around wondering how everything fit together.
The teenager’s eyes peered about trying to see everything into the shadows.
The young man’s eyes squinted at everything searching for the unseen.
The middle age man’s eyes starred at everything with learned cynicism.
The old man’s eyes looked at everything wondering where the years had gone.
The old man’s mind eye saw everything and longed to see again with the eyes of the baby, the child, the teenager and the young man.

Before My Eyes

Like a child’s transformer
They change before my eyes,
In unimaginable ways
From softly shaped infants
To well defined adults
Ever growing and changing
Ever remaining the same
Like lava lamps
The essence remains consistent
While the outlines continually evolve
From lumps of clay
To magnificent sculptures
Beautiful works of life

The Layman Philosopher

As I exited the rain forest warm environment of my car, the cold shocked my entire being into a new reality creating a brain freeze as intense as any coming by way of a quickly eaten ice cream cone. I turned to begin an iceman slide-walk to the my destination, dressed in my multi-layered coat and Mt. Everest quality gloves, a young man in a simple summer-weight sweatshirt and holey blue jeans approached. In amazement, I called out “Nice weather, huh” and fully expected him to reply with a quivering shivering voice that his heated car was just a few steps away. Instead, he replied with a simple statement, “If you don’t have occasional pain, how do you know you are alive”. And so, I spent different parts of my day thinking about that statement from the layman philosopher. I had heard his lifetime lesson in various forms many time before, but just as one can walk the same path every day and still, from time to time, see something new that always was there, my attention had been drawn to a fact that always was there – it is sometimes that pain that lets us appreciate pleasure, the sadness that lets us appreciate happiness, the loss that lets us appreciate all we have.

Water

The water forming the lake ripples gently
As the soft breeze dances lightly across its dark blue surface
The air is mountain clean
But its silent invisibility is filled with the moisture evaporating from lake
Ascending toward the heavens where it will join with moisture relatives
Forming wisps of white drawn together like magnets
Transforming into magnificent billowing powder puff clouds of virgin white And so they would remain if the moisture and constantly birthed wisps Would stop their transformation and immigration into the whiteness
But that is not the nature of water for it seeks to be with its family
In whatever form that family may be
And so, with time, the white transitions through shades of grey
Toward a stormy menacing restless blackness
Until with a flash and a shout the clouds open their fortress like doors
Exploding like suicide bombes
Spilling out their very essence until they fade from existence
And as that essence falls earthward
Sometimes along a hurried direct route as bullets seeking a target
Sometimes carried by the winds in a circuitous path
Up and down, side to side
But always reaching its next way station of ground
Where in time it finds a way to the streams
Some on the surface and others hidden
Some natural and some man made
And then from the steams to the lakes
And so it goes
So it goes