from inside The Sane Asylum... Making peace with myself and getting along with it all...
Monday, July 18, 2016
Tuesday, July 12, 2016
Monday, July 11, 2016
The Art of Living
At any given moment you’re failing to see the way things actually are. The manifestation is that you’re failing to be kind. You’re anxious. You’re neurotic. I don’t think it’s so much about external things. I think you could be a very happy, high-functioning person and still note the moment-to-moment failures. George Saunders
Sunday, July 10, 2016
Stopped To Ponder...
"A country is only as good… only as strong as the people who make it up and the country turns into what the people want it to become… I don’t believe any longer that we can afford to say that it is entirely out of our hands. We made the world we’re living in and we have to make it over." James Baldwin
From The Study...a conversation of possibility
The collision between one’s image of oneself and what one actually is is always very painful and there are two things you can do about it, you can meet the collision head-on and try and become what you really are or you can retreat and try to remain what you thought you were, which is a fantasy, in which you will certainly perish.
Friday, July 8, 2016
My morning walk...
As I walked the beach this morning, in the distance I observed a memorial service to a fallen soldier. I have seen weddings, family reunions, parties of every flavor, but my first for an ocean side memorial and burial. There are those moments that make us stand still, but few that give you the presence of silence...so is was this beautiful morning...just for you my friend and to those that have fallen...may we chose to honor one another...
A southeast wind blowing from the trades,
The beauty of the azure sky as it kissed the ocean.
The waves gently rolling, just for you.
Four men dressed in blue and a brass bugle just for you
One woman clutching the flag in her arms,
The last moment to spend with you.
In her hands, a simple box,
Ashes...the presence of you.
Taps pierced the morning air,
A sound that has no compare,
Everyone stopped in silence just for you.
An honorable salute from the men in blue,
She carried your box and the presence of you
The children on the beach stopped their play,
No words were spoken
Only silence for you.
She kissed the box,
And shed a tear, just for you.
We all watched in silence,
As she released your soul to the sea.
Even the children shed a tear.
The presence of silence just for you...
Tuesday, July 5, 2016
The Art Of Living
Cloths of Heaven
William Butler Yeats
Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
Tuesday, June 28, 2016
Beach Chair Therapy
I take beach chair therapy pretty serious...it's not just some random thought with a picture of a beach umbrella or beach chair. You first have to start with a beach. Now I'm fortunate that I spend four to six months living by the sea and it's one that I carefully choose. I love white sandy beaches but I settled on one covered with crushed sea shells giving it a cinnamon color against a gray sandy background. Suits my eye for some reason and always a nice cool ocean breeze. The beach is lined by a reef and on some days if the tide is strong it will uncover the rocks and give the beach dimension and nice places to explore. It's a quiet beach with mostly residents but the usual summer crowd makes people watching more interesting.
On therapy days I try and set up around noon. It takes me that long to get all my chores done...:). I take a good sturdy umbrella that screws into the sand and tilts slightly toward the wind. A linen shirt is a necessity along with a good straw hat. I have this ole Panama Jack hat that has served me well for a number of years. It works great until the wind blows over ten then I switch to my RELAX cap. A good chair with at least three pockets is a must. I fill mine with a Coke, a thermos of rum and an insulated cup filled with ice.
Now let's talk about a few things that will make a lot of difference when it comes to set up...twist your poll into the sand until it reaches the moist layer, then take a bucket of sea water and pour around the poll. This will seal it and keep the wind from pulling it lose. I always anchor the poll with a ten foot cord and spike. Don't hammer the spike into the ground, but dig a a shallow hole and turn the spike side ways and bury it. Just a suggestion from one that has experienced many runaway umbrellas. Always, always open your umbrella into the wind. You will know if you get it wrong.
Music, if course...a selection of songs labeled Ocean on my ole my IPod and a very well placed speaker. On the last visit from my friend Jes B. Rambling he surprised me with this little round speaker called 808. Designed by a French company but I'm sure made in China. At any rate, a good one. Just place it in the apex of my umbrella and I get a rainbow of sounds...thanks my friend. Took a few pictures of Jes's last visit. When I fully recover my mental abilities and recall the visit I will share. Rather distorted at the moment.
Now how does one prepare the mind for beach chair therapy? For me I watch the children play...really don't know why, just seems in their every move you can tell what their little minds are thinking..they have a lot of free behaviors...oh, did I mention the rum and a splash of Coke...;).
Self...tell me what you are thinking...
Sunday, June 26, 2016
Sunday Morning...The Wall Cloud
The Wall Cloud
Walter P. Thederahn
With the ebbing of time,
It will take me back to the sea.
Scorpion, the Norseman's life,
Aurora Borealis,
no- Eldorado,
Yet,
August eyes!,
But seek the wall of clouds,
Dark, black clouds,
Holding the thunderbolts,
With echoing thunder- electrify,
The enfolding clouds.
Lighting flash,
Like northern lights.
White wall of clouds,
Of awesome might.
Still air then sudden rain,
Hail falls, this freezing vapor,
From the sky.
The windrose turning clouds,
Sets- twister from the sky.
Walter P. Thederahn was born Novemeber 3, 1930 in Brooklyn, N.Y. to German immigrants. As a young boy he started performing magic acts and later began to dabble in writing poetry. Walt was drafted to the Army during the Korean conflict where he earned his airborne wings in 1952. He served in both the 187th Regimental Combat Team and the 45th Infantry Division. Following his discharge he joined the family bakery business but left to enter the carpenter trade. He married and moved to Griggstown, NJ. The couple had four sons of whom he was very proud. He married his second wife, Mary, the mother of six children, in 1988. They settled in Mercerville, NJ spending many hours with their children who lived close by and traveling to visit their children who lived out of state. He retired from the Capentary Union, Local 1006 in 1992. Walt was a member of the International Brotherhood of Poetry and the Magician Ring of New Brunswick, NJ. He was active in the American Legion, Post 530 and two senior clubs in Robbinsville, NJ. Walter paseed away on October 31, 2009, the anniversary of the death of the famous magician Houdini.
How fitting I find his words this Sunday morning from carpenter, magician and poet as I capture...The Wall Cloud.
Walter P. Thederahn
With the ebbing of time,
It will take me back to the sea.
Scorpion, the Norseman's life,
Aurora Borealis,
no- Eldorado,
Yet,
August eyes!,
But seek the wall of clouds,
Dark, black clouds,
Holding the thunderbolts,
With echoing thunder- electrify,
The enfolding clouds.
Lighting flash,
Like northern lights.
White wall of clouds,
Of awesome might.
Still air then sudden rain,
Hail falls, this freezing vapor,
From the sky.
The windrose turning clouds,
Sets- twister from the sky.
Walter P. Thederahn was born Novemeber 3, 1930 in Brooklyn, N.Y. to German immigrants. As a young boy he started performing magic acts and later began to dabble in writing poetry. Walt was drafted to the Army during the Korean conflict where he earned his airborne wings in 1952. He served in both the 187th Regimental Combat Team and the 45th Infantry Division. Following his discharge he joined the family bakery business but left to enter the carpenter trade. He married and moved to Griggstown, NJ. The couple had four sons of whom he was very proud. He married his second wife, Mary, the mother of six children, in 1988. They settled in Mercerville, NJ spending many hours with their children who lived close by and traveling to visit their children who lived out of state. He retired from the Capentary Union, Local 1006 in 1992. Walt was a member of the International Brotherhood of Poetry and the Magician Ring of New Brunswick, NJ. He was active in the American Legion, Post 530 and two senior clubs in Robbinsville, NJ. Walter paseed away on October 31, 2009, the anniversary of the death of the famous magician Houdini.
How fitting I find his words this Sunday morning from carpenter, magician and poet as I capture...The Wall Cloud.
Friday, June 24, 2016
Thursday, June 23, 2016
Wednesday, June 22, 2016
Lessons From The Sane Asylum
Daniel...Reflections on the dawn
A thousand lifetimes have passed since
my Passion first spoke unto me these words:
‘Go forth and speak that which is locked
within the timelessness of your soul and trust
the listener to understand.’
But the voice of my Wisdom answered:
‘It would be better, perhaps, to leave the Truth unsaid;
For the listener shall hear your words that clothe the Truth,
but will not see through the veil of their disguise.’
And hearing this caused my Passion to cry,
for he knew that Wisdom always spoke with
an enlightened reason;
And my Wisdom wept also, for there was no joy
in being right at his brother’s expense.
So now I come unto you that the thirst of my soul
be quenched and Truth be unveiled before the
eyes of this world.
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