The Tribe Has My Back

There is something to be said about being part of a tribe – even when that tribe is only two people wide. This message was hit home for me today at work. My back has been acting up for the last few days. This isn’t a little soreness from pulling weeds or playing with the…

Rewriting The Power Of Intentions

“Once you make a decision, the universe conspires to make it happen.” Ralph Waldo Emerson. It’s all about intentions. Do you remember when you were single and were “on the prowl”? Many thousands of years ago, before I was married, I remember going out with the intention of finding a female with low enough standards…

Do You Even Blog, Bro?

So it goes something like this: Describe something small and seemingly innocuous Dig to find some deeper spiritual principles that goes with it (use sweeping motifs – people love that shit) Stagger some semi-humourous photos with gag-like captions Finish strong with some lofty ideals and a more serious, uplifting picture. That, my friends, is how…

Words Failing Me Adverb-sarily

It seems that I am having a hard time writing these days. Oh I can put words down on the keyboard, but they are floating about and bumping into one another and jostling for space and not behaving as they should.  The words are flailing about, treading on one another, stomping on each other’s feet,…

Broken, Unbroken

These days are a blur, in some respects.  A whirlwind and yet standing still in some ways.  Like watching a top spin on the table.  Fixed, and yet eyes lost in the swirls of motion.  I run a lot these days.  I need to.  I like to.  And when I run, my body breaks down…

Redwoods

A few years ago I heard a speaker talk about redwood trees.  He mentioned how the redwoods, giants of the forest, had shallow roots.  Surprising, considering that those Ent-like beasts of beauty can reach up to 375 feet. There is no taproot, but the roots can spread out 50-80 feet from the base of the…

Spiral Bound

I love notebooks.  Fresh, clean, uncracked, shrink-wrapped and writerly looking notebooks can fill up my bookshelf any time.  And often they do.  They represent for me the muses uncertain, the unmarked critical point, a playground for the inspired, the unknown…the Great Unscripted, if you will.  And yet they sit unused. Brimming with potential, but reduced…