Thursday 2 April 2015

Terry’s Arrival



Terry’s Arrival

Terry slept through most of the night. He desperately wanted to see this new place, this latest in his mother’s whirlwind world of impulsive meandering across the country side.

The previous year was spent in Poteet, Texas. That followed Tuba City, Arizona, on the Navajo and Hopi Reservations. Before that was Greeley, Colorado, Denver Colorado, Phoenix, Arizona and a parade of cities in Texas, with names like Dacator, Corpus Christie, Agua Dulce, Beeville and Houston, where he was born. But, he reminded himself, he never actually lived in Houston. He was just born there. That was the way his life was, never being from wherever he was.

The names of cities rattled in his thoughts like loose gears in an old lawnmower. He could hardly focus on this new place. Washington? The Evergreen State? Green? Terry liked green. Everywhere he had lived until then was some form of desert, at least to his thinking.

Terry loved trees and dreamed frequently of living where they were plentiful, lush and spread amply across the countryside. Evergreen State? Washington? That meant trees to Terry, so he dreamed of trees as his eyes grew heavy. It was night, somewhere in Idaho or Oregan or Wyoming. Terry had lost track of the whereabouts of the car.

Sitting in the front passenger seat of his mother’s car, a Chevy she had purchased in Poteet, Terry looked over to his mother’s robotic stare that pierced the windshield. Driving was something his mother did with an iron resolve. If she got drowsy she would make a stop at a convenience store, a gas station or a cafĂ© and gulp down a couple, or three, cups of coffee. It was like watching a mechanic attach a hose to the opening in the side of a car and clamping down on the trigger. The spiked scent of gasoline rustled through his brain, then it mixed with the smell of coffee. Terry shivered at the thought of his mother gassing up, clutching the steering wheel with clenched fingers and blasting the headlight glowing road with the cosmic blade of her eyes. The image of Gort, the alien robot in the film The Day The Earth Stood Still dropped into his thoughts. Terry shivered again.

That is what his mother reminded him of, Gort, an alien robot. He was the spawn of an alien robot, a robot hell bent on destroying the world as he  knew. What was it that the woman needed to say to Gort to prevent it from destroying the earth? “Klaatu barda nikto.” That was it! Terry and his friend Greg spent an entire night memorizing the line after being frightened into quivering heaps of eleven year old bags of flesh. That was four years previous, when he lived in Denver. “Klaatu barda nikto.”

Terry took another look at his robot mother and hissed, soft enough to hide beneath the ambient noise of the car, “Klaatu barda nikto. Klaatu barda nikto.” Then he fell deeply into sleep.

When the car stopped, Terry awakened, but kept his eyes closed. He could hear his mother open the door, and slam the door shut. He could hear his two sisters breathing in the back seat. Opening his eyes he needed to bring his hands up to block the rising morning sun.

Terry could hear his mother’s footsteps pacing around the car. It sounded like gravel was beneath her feet. He whispered, once again, “Klaatu barada  nikto,” then he sat up slowly and turned his head to look out of the passenger side window.

“Desert,” Terry said to himself, “another dang desert. Not a tree in sight.” Then Terry noticed a house on the driver’s side of the car. There was one tree on the north side of the house shading the driveway. There was a hill past the tree with a small water tower rising up against a clear sky.

“Klaatu barada nikto,” Terry said once again, to himself. He liked the sound of the words, like cuss words, but they weren’t cuss words, so he could say them without getting in trouble. “Klaatu barada nikto,” he repeated, then simply “Klaatu. What the “Klaatu” is this? No trees?” He was still whispering, sure that his mother couldn’t hear him, even if she was a robot. But then he thought again. He knew that she had ears that could hear the most infinitesimal sounds. Maybe she really is a robot he thought.

“What did you say?” said Torry, his thirteen year old sister in the back seat.

“Nothing,” said Terry, “I’m just looking out at our new house.”

“New house?” said Maria, Terry’s eleven year old sister, directly behind him. It was obvious she was struggling to wake up.

“I guess we’re here,” said Terry, “in another desert.” Then to himself, “Klaatu barada nikto.”

“What did you say,” said Torry again, “Why are you whispering?”

“I’m not whispering,” objected Terry, “I’m just breathing.”

“Where’s mom?” asked Maria.

“She’s outside walking around the house,” replied Terry.

“I want to get out,” said Torry, pulling on the door handle and pushing it open. Torry and Maria climbed out of their respective doors and slammed them.

“Klaatu barada nikto,” whispered Terry, “maybe they are both little robots too. Surely, I’m the only human in this family.”

Friday 18 October 2013

Twin City Metro Transit Southwest LRT Corridor Discussions

Twin City Metro Transit Southwest LRT Corridor Discussions

James Oliver Smith Jr


One aspect of the Southwest LRT Corridor discussions here in the Twin Cities that is the most disconcerting is this notion that LRT is the only mode of transportation that is subsidized and that it should be evaluated strictly on the basis that it is subsidized. Up front, we need to be realistic and aknowledge that _all_ modes of transportation are subsidized and that _none_ of them pay for themselves when _all_ of the real costs are accounted for. This is true for LRT, buses, freight trains, airplanes, trucks and _even_ cars. As a matter of fact, every study I have seen, that accounts for all of the real costs of the automobile (roads, parking, traffic control systems, bridges, law enforcement, regulations, legal systems, city, state, federal planning, fuel exploration, extraction, refining, distribution, not to mention environmental impact) is by far the most heavily subsidized mode of transportation we have. Even parks, bicycle trails, lakes and parkways are subsidized and I don’t hear any expectation that any of these resources should ”pay for themselves”. These are all public works projects that need to be budgeted for, maintained and planned, just like transportation systems. Does anyone _really_ think that any mode of transportation or recreation costs nothing? The automobile seems to be getting a free pass in these discussions. We, collectively, not only presume that societal infrastructure to support cars will be funded without question, we get upset when it starts to fall apart when maintenance doesn’t keep up due to drastically reduced budgets. There are many websites with a plethora of data that analyses the comparative subsidies of all modes of transportation and, in general, the least subsidized are LRT and “big rail” subway systems because they are more efficient, provide higher capacity transfer levels and have lower long-term maintenance costs with a smaller environmental impact than the automobile. An LRT line exceeds the passenger capacity of six lanes of freeway, with much less long-term maintenance, in addition to providing more consistent, reliable, cost-effective service on a per-person-per-mile basis. I find it rather ironically, sadly humorous that a few people in a couple of neighborhoods are disturbed by “20 seconds”  of train visibility when most of us see multiple trains all day every day and everyone sees countless cars everywhere every day, including the lakes, parks, parkways and bicycle trails, while cars present the most intense impact on the environment of all modes of transportation. When the Green Line starts (and it can’t start soon enough as far as I’m concerned) every neighborhood is going to be seeing and hearing every train all day, everyday and I am going to cherish that sound, because it is the sound of many fewer cars on the streets and much improved public transportation in the Twin Cities. It’s also interesting that the potential removal of a few homes can potentially derail a project of the magnitude of the Southwest LRT corridor, while whole neighborhoods couldn’t stop I94, I35W, I35E, I394, I694, or I494 corridors. This entire discussion is truly distorted. I’m also surprised by statements to the effect that SWLRT will only be “one way”, servicing _only_ the suburbs and not Minneapolis. I have used public transportation while living in Minneapolis and working in Eden Prairie and I rode buses that were full people who lived in Minneapolis and worked in the very suburbs to be serviced by SWLRT. It will be a two-way transportation system. As to the notion that LRT is going to “ruin” such public works projects as the lakes, bicycle paths, parkways and parks, there are LRT systems going under, around, beside, over lakes, rivers, parks, forests, parkways, bicycle paths and even ocean channels all over the world, in some of the most beautiful cities and countrysides on the planet. It is not as though tunnels and tracks are unsolved problems. The Twin Cities is the 16th largest metropolitan area in the United States. They rank in the top ten of metropolitan areas in many categories (quality of life, cycle friendliness, environmental stewardship, greenspace, etc), but not in public transportation. It is quite a ways down the list. A metropolitan system cannot build public transportation on buses and cars alone. You can’t build enough lanes to service high levels of traffic (and the Twin Cities has one of the fastest growing levels of congestion in the United States). Studies have shown that roads reach capacity around 2500 cars per lane per hour and each additional lane is going to add to that already heavy subsidy for the car/bus/truck roadway. LRT and “big rail” subway is needed for the heavy lifting. Buses work best as a supplement to the high capacity rail lines. The sad part about the Twin Cities is that in 1922, at the height of the trolley system we once had here, we had 530 miles of track. No one in Minneapolis was further than 400 yards from a station. We have had nothing like that since the 1950s when that system was dismantled. If we had preserved, maintained and upgraded that system we would have one of the best public transit systems in the country. Instead, we are in the position of having to reconstruct what we once had. Let’s not ruin our chance to climb back into a decent transit system. This selfish thinking that LRT is only going to benefit one community is simply ridiculous. We will all benefit from it. We all need it. The idea that there is some route that is going to cost less, disrupt less, be seen less is simply a fantasy. All potential routes will be expensive, will disrupt much during construction and will result in a change to some community, but nothing in the SWLRT is going to come close to the cost, disruption and change that came in the wake of the Twin Cities interstate system for the highly subsidized automobile.

Josjr (2013 1018)

 

Saturday 4 February 2012

Boston Patriot Mom


Boston Patriot Mom
------------------
James Oliver Smith, Jr.

As the 46th Superbowl game between the New England Patriots and the New York Giants approaches there is one person who comes to mind: a woman in Chelsea, Massachusetts who was the mother of twin teenaged girls I grew close to in the early seventies. Now, to be honest, I haven't really paid all that much attention to American football in my life, but this was one time that football did worm its way into my consciousness. The twin's mother was an avid fan of football and a strong supporter of the Boston Patriots in particular. I was still a teenager, not long out of high school myself. I was alone in a big city, 3000 miles away from Richland, Washington where I graduated from high school in 1969. For a brief period, I found myself in the midst of a family like I had never seen before. I was mesmerized.

This was a time when you could count the number of Superbowls on the fingers of one hand. The home town team was the Boston Patriots of the American Football League, which didn't even have a stadium that they could call their own. They used Harvard's stadium, which wasn't maintained for the Patriots. I can remember pictures in the Boston Herald-Tribune of fans congregating at Harvard stadium before a game to sweep the snow off of the bleachers. Football was having difficulty getting established in the Boston sports market. It was a distant presence that languished in the shadow of the perennially winning Boston Celtics, The 1967 "Impossible Dream" Boston Red Sox, and the 1970 Stanley Cup champion Bruins.

My initial awareness of the Boston Patriots was in the sports apparel department of the Jordan Marsh and Co. store downtown, where I worked as a "checker", counting ("checking") the contents of boxes as they came in off the truck dock. It was my first job and my first union: Teamsters Local 25. I wasn't particularly drawn to the Patriot logo, which at the time was the image of an American Revolutionary Patriot crouching over a football and staring ahead with a clenched face (http://www.sportslogos.net/logo.php?id=mai5x890dxwev24s3zoiofv7s). It was just there, like the Patriots themselves. But because I considered myself a Bostonian at the time (and still do, in many respects), I was proud of all sports teams associated with the city. However, the Patriots seemed to be hanging on by a thread.

As with most sports markets, if a team is not doing well, or does not have a "home" to play in, there is always the threat that the franchise could leave. This is where the Boston Patriot Mom comes in, the twin's mother. They lived in Chelsea, a town just across the "Mystic Bridge" from Boston, nestled in between Charlestown, Revere and East Boston. This woman's energy and passions far exceeded what was needed to raise two girls. She was a political fireball taking on a local projects in and around Chelsea, as well as challenges throughout the Boston metroplex.

Close to home she was embroiled in a continuous conflict with the discount store behind their house. The exact location of the boundary between her backyard and the discount store was in dispute and she was going to take the struggle to whatever level was needed. She was tenacious and definitely gave me the impression that she enjoyed the challenge. She was proud of her family, her house, her city (Chelsea) and the Boston metropolitan area and she expended a great deal of effort and intensity on all causes that she felt justified her indignation and support. As a football fan, she was intent on ensuring that the Patriots would remain in the Boston area, so when there were protests, fund raisers and other opportunities to express her support, she was there in full force.

This unbounded energy was fascinating to me and I witnessed it first hand numerous times. I spent a number of evenings at the twin's house enjoying the Polish stuffed cabbage (golabki, "gawWHOMkee") that she enjoyed making. After supper, she would pull out her accordian and start playing polkas, with every bit as much zest as she poured into her various missions to bring justice and pride to her family, city and state.

This was all new to me, this fierce loyalty to family and community. My life growing up was a continuous stream of moves and isolation. The concept of "family" and "community" were abstract places on a map I had never seen. The road was my home and Boston was the first place I had lived where people actually seemed to be proud of their connection with a place, across multiple generations. I was a teenager like the twins. They were still in high school and I was just out of high school. I was from the far west, away from home and working in downtown Boston. The twins were at home, close to their mother and not quite ready to take on a relationship. Nonetheless, their mother seemed to welcome me warmly into her home and I experienced the joy of a family comfortable in its place, not simply anxious to move on to the next place.

On those evenings I heard the stories of legal wrangling with the nearby by discount store over the backyard boundary and I listened to empassioned reasoning on why the Boston Patriots needed to stay in the Boston area. I was swept up in the world of the twins and their mother and it made me feel, if only for a moment, that I belonged somewhere. Ultimately, the gulf between almost graduated from high school for the twins and having just graduated from high school was too large for me to bridge. Regardless of how exotic I may have been to the mother, I was a man, away from home, with a job and place of my own. I was in a strange no man's land where I was too old and too young at the same time. My youthful ignorance, inexperience and circumstances took me away from the twins and their mother and I ended up leaving Boston, never to return again to live.

I did visit Chelsea fifteen years later when I attended a technical course in Boston. I reconnected with the twins and their mother. We exchanged stories of marriages, children, relationships, careers and feelings, but most of all we talked about that time we all shared together in the upstairs kitchen, eating golabki, dancing the polka and listening to the mother's adventures in saving the house, fighting city hall and keeping the Patriot's in Boston. It was an important piece of myself growing up. Although I wasn't there long enough to make up for the childhood lost, I was able to get a glimpse of something I needed, even fifteen years later. Those images and stories of the Boston Patriots will always represent the substance and warmth of that Chelsea mother on fire with purpose and pride.

I have since connected with the twins on Facebook and I can see the same determined pride in Chelsea that I saw in their mother. Watching the news of the New England Patriots once again finding their way to the Superbowl is a testimony to the efforts of that mother and I am convinced that I witnessed the planting of the seeds of a team that would grow into the force that it is today. The twin's mother died back in the '90s, before the first Patriots Superbowl win, but Superbowl XLVI will carry with it that presence of the Boston Patriots Mom I watched in action so many years before.

... il matto ...
josjr (2012 0204)

Sunday 1 January 2012

Day 22,066 - I Ching: Earth/Earth [.....x] to Earth/Thunder



******************************************************
Day 22,066  - 2012 0101
Belov-ED Days - 4977
Sunday
James Oliver Smith, Jr.
http://josjr.com/
http://ichingreflections.com/

I Ching images

Fu Hsi Sequence
Hexagram 64: Embracing, Nature, Earth, Creation, Responding
01 ---  ---  Earth (Valley, Canyon, Plains, Desert, Plateau, Womb)
02 ---  ---  Belly, Solar Plexus
04 ---  ---  The Embracing, Creation, Substance, Foundation, Nature

08 ---  ---  Earth (Valley, Canyon, Plains, Desert, Plateau, womb)
16 ---  ---  Belly, Solar Plexus
32 ---  ---X The Embracing, Creation, Substance, Foundation, Nature

changing towards

Hexagram 32: Returning, Repeating, Turning Back
01 ---  ---  Thunder (Lightning, Storms, Viper)
02 ---  ---  Belly, Solar Plexus
04 ---  ---  The Embracing, Creation, Substance, Foundation, Nature

08 ---  ---  Thunder (Lightning, Storms, Viper)
16 ---  ---  Feet
32 --------  The Arousal, Catalyst, Movement, Surprise, Action

Day 22,060 - Images from the I Ching: Earth [The Embracing] over Earth [The Embracing] (Hexagram 64 - Embracing, Nature, Earth, Creation, Responding) changing towards [.....x] Earth [The Embracing] over Thunder [The Arousing] (Hexagram 32 - Returning, Repeating, Turning Back ) -- Earth over Earth is a welcome image for me. It is an image of embracing, creation, substance and protection. With the Earth I feel safe, stable and centered. As a Leo I am all too familiar with Fire and all that comes with it: power, heat, clarity, vision and total consumption if energy through the use of that power. At the time of my birth Aquarius was rising, so I am familiar with the abyss that comes with Water. Last month (December 2011) I was surround by a lot of Fire, Water, Thunder and Wind, a stormy, agitated context. It was a month of struggle within me and around me. Challenges abounded and continue to press upon the horizon of this new year. I really needed the centering force of the Earth, and there it was: Earth. Within me and around me, Earth arose from the stalks and established a strong presence for this first day in the new year. It felt good to feel the Earth within my fingers, body, spirit and intellect.

The Venetian Star (la mia Stella di Venezia), my daughter from the Universe, greeted me from Italy. The Contessa awakened and requested her espresso. At 60, waking up each morning genuinely does become a joyful experience. To be surrounded by friends who welcome me as I am is a plus. To see Earth over Earth unfolding within the stalks is a particularly special way to start any day, not to mention the first day of the Year and the birth day of the Contessa. So I am brought to think of things that center me as I stand upon the Earth. I think of the substance that enters my consciousness as I touch that which surrounds me and find comfort that it all came from the Earth ... like me.

As my eyes lose their grip on the world, my fingers are revelling in their heightened significance, as are my ears, my tongue and my nostrils. The smells and touch and sounds and tastes of the Earth are everywhere and now there is very little vision to eclipse their potency, so I experience these new dimensions of the Earth with joy. I practice clicking my tongue when I walk down the hall or descend steps with my walking stick, seeking and embracing the "sense" of my location without vision ... My brain has discovered that there is so much to sample, even from the wind on my face that grazes the skin with subtle variance as it channels and skirts around buildings, trees, bus shelters and cars ... My nostrels seek the substance of that which inhabits the air. My tongue embraces the ensembles of flavors that greet me with each bite, sip, swig and swirl. In some ways, the images that form in my brain, behind the hazy curtain of my eyes are becoming richer, even visually (cognitively), because the brain adds the brilliant tapestry of hue and shade that the eyes are no longer capable of transmitting. My dreamscapes are becoming palpable.

It is more than a little ironic that our human world of vision saturation is really only a glossy pop-up page of experience, compared to what can flow in from the other senses. so the presence of Earth over Earth is welcome as I "look" ahead into this year where all of the paths opening up to me are extending towards the Earth's horizons through terrain that is completely unfamiliar. Wherever these paths lead I am fully aware that I will never fully understand them visually, directly. I will have to feel my way through these new landscapes in much the same way that I extend fingers, elbows, hands and hips to discern my way around the house.

There is one aging, changing line in this image of Earth over Earth, and that is in the most fundamental position: the first line, the innermost and significant of places. This changing line moves the inner Earth towards the inner Thunder, leaving the image of Earth over Thunder, an image of tremors within the Earth. The Earth moves in the presence of earthquakes and volcanos, nature's catalysts for change. So this first day of 2012 possesses the image of not only change, but also a turning point, for Earth over Thunder is the mid-point in the Fu Hsi sequence of the I Ching, step 32 in the 64 step sequence. It behaves in a manner similar to the Tarot's Wheel of Fortune. When the Wheel of Fortune spins it can change the course of many things in ways unexpected, so it is important to keep in mind that even though I may want things to be different than they are, there many ways that "different" may manifest in ways that are difficult.

I will use the image of the stabilizing Earth as a centering point of concentration as I prepare for the unfolding passages of this new year and look forward to travelling with those sharing the path with me ... let the thunder roll within the the depths of the Earth ... il matto ...


http://ichingreflections.blogspot.com/

http://www.KindleBlog.josjr.com
http://www.IlMattoblog.josjr.com
http://www.LifeBlog.josjr.com
http://www.PerlBlog.josjr.com
http://www.WritingBlog.josjr.com

http://Addewid.blogspot.com
http://CyberPoetPlace.blogspot.com
http://IlMattoVero.blogspot.com
http://josjr69.blogspot.com
http://PerlCatalyst.blogspot.com
http://CyberKindle.blogspot.com
http://panspiritualist.blogspot.com/

http://www.CyberPoet.com
www.addewid.com
www.fracturedparadise.com
www.roseannlloyd.com
www.cyberkindle.com
www.perlcatalyst.com
www.ciriad.com

Day 22,065 - I Ching: Lake/Fire[..xx..] to Water/Thunder



******************************************************
Day 22,065  - 2011 1231
Belov-ED Days - 4976
Saturday
James Oliver Smith, Jr.
http://josjr.com/
http://ichingreflections.com/

I Ching images

Fu Hsi Sequence
Hexagram 18: Revolution, Uprising, Renovation, Abolishing the Old
01 ---  ---  Lake (River, Lake, Well, Pond, sea, Ocean)
02 --------  Mouth
04 --------X The Joyful, Expression, Language, Gossip, Praise, Insults

08 --------X Fire (Sun, Lightning, Hearth)
16 ---  ---  Eyes
32 --------  The Clinging Fire, Clarity, Divination, Warmth, Burning

changing towards

Hexagram 30: Difficulty, Beginning
01 ---  ---  Lake (River, Pond, Sea, Ocean, Marsh, Swamp, Well)
02 --------  Mouth
04 ---  ---  The Joyfull, Expression, Language

08 ---  ---  Water (Fog, Mist, Rain, Floods, Haze)
16 --------  Ear
32 --------  The Abyss, Danger, Nourishment, Mystery

Day 22,060 - Images from the I Ching: Lake [The Joyful] over Fire [The Clarity] (Hexagram 18 - Revolution, Uprising, Renovation, Abolishing the Old) changing towards [..xx..] Water [The Abyss] over Thunder [The Arousing] (Hexagram 30 - Difficulty, Beginning) -- The Joyful Lake over the Clinging Fire is a recipe for turmoil ... Water can douse a Fire ... Fire can boil away Water ... They are opposites and equal in power and in their capacity to transform. This transformation can manifest itself in ways that are centering as wells as unsettling ... balance and unbalance ... comfort and discomfortable ... Without Water there would be no life that serves as the fuel for Fire ... Without Fire/Sun/Heat there would be no evaporation to fill clouds that release rain to nourish and sustain life ... The tension that arrives from this clash of opposing, but equal, forces is a revolutionary activity and it is through such dynamic powers that we encounter the most profound of changes.

This is the last day of this year ... Although the end and the beginning of a year are somewhat arbitrary, there is a very real point in which the Earth completes one rotation and begins another. We as humans have chosen the cycle of the Sun as our historical marker of time ... An interval we call a year ... In the same way we have chosen the Moon as a way to segment the Year ... Our languages, our bodies, our cities, our rituals and much of our personal behavior (and the Earth's behavior) are influenced by and calibrated with these two celestial entities. Water (the Moon) and Fire (the Sun) are the two mission critical elements in our life-sustaining ecosystems. Earth, Sky, Thunder, Wind, Mountain and Lake form the raw materials and contexts that Water and Fire act upon. Lakes (rivers, ponds, streams, seas, oceans, etcetera) contain and channel the force of Water and carve out the shape of everything thing we see. When we look across the Earth towards the horizon we are seeing the result of all this "revolution", "turmoil" and "imbalance" in our lives.

It is tempting to interpret such "change" and "disruption" as destructive, evil, catastrophic and the handiwork of some kind of evil/good dualism ... but I don't see the usefulness in this perspective ... To attribute an event we like as "good" implies that an event we don't like is "evil" ... Being human we want to believe that this "evil" and "good" activity is the byproduct of some action taken by some entity greater than us ... But if we look at all events in the Universe as simply an oscillation between balance and imbalance ... comfort and discomfort ... fruitful and unfruitful ... it is easier to look at all changes in the Universe as possessing both balance and imbalance ... depending on the context. A flood can be seen as destructive, but it is also nurturing and enriching to the soil, the Earth. Earthquakes and volcanoes can also be seen as destructive, but it is from this same activity within the Earth that we see the birth of Mountains. As a species, humans want to think that their work is "permanent" and "good" and think that anything that disrupts what they have created is "bad". But to the Universe we are hardly a spec in the sands of time or even a drop in the sea of life.

As we await the arrival of spring, now that the Sun(Fire) is rising once more, with the beginning of a new revolution it may be helpful to understand the origin of the word "revolution", with is simply a new beginning.

Within this image of Lake over Fire, there are two aging lines that will shift polarity ... This time they are both Yang/Seeking lines. One changing line takes the outer Lake in the direction of Water, the Abyss. The Other changing line shifts the Fire in the direction of Thunder ... This is Water over Thunder. It is the Abyss, danger and nourishment of outer Water over the Catalytic, Arousing force of the inner Thunder ... This image of Lake over Water moving in the direction of Water over Thunder is a most appripriate set of images for this transition from what _was_ to what _will be_ ... Revolution launches us into a new beginning, an encore year. We can celebrate this New Year because the Universe has allowed us to embark on it. The difficulty will be (as always) in the living of it. New paradigms. New Relationships. New skills. New words. New challenges. Not to mention maintaining all that is still there, unchanged.

For some reason, for me, I think that this coming year of adapting to decresing vision, problematic finances (no job), uncertain health care and many changes in how I procede with my "encore" life is somehow "worse" or more challenging than any year before. But a close inspection of my life would reveal that it has never been guaranteed that any particular year would be "balanced", "fruitful" or "enjoyable". So we find ourselves back in the mode of seeing the balance and imbalance that all of life flows through in the course of every year, every day, every second. We can't spend all of our time in the Past or we will fail to appreciate the present or prepare for the Future. We can't spend all of our time in the Present or we will forget the lessons of the Past as we Prepare for the Future. And we can't spend all of our time in the Future because the Future will depend on how well we have learned from the past and how we apply that learing in the Present.

So reflect on the year just passed, and all of the years before that. Celebrate the act of waking up and breathing this morning, in the Present. Then, breath deeply of the air that surrounds us and look towards the horizon where the Rain (Water) and Thunder are creating some serious havoc ... When the storm passes, there will be a freshness to the air (Sky) and a moist richness within the Earth that will fill our nostrils, frolic within our ears and inspire our souls ... il matto ...







http://ichingreflections.blogspot.com/

http://www.KindleBlog.josjr.com
http://www.IlMattoblog.josjr.com
http://www.LifeBlog.josjr.com
http://www.PerlBlog.josjr.com
http://www.WritingBlog.josjr.com

http://Addewid.blogspot.com
http://CyberPoetPlace.blogspot.com
http://IlMattoVero.blogspot.com
http://josjr69.blogspot.com
http://PerlCatalyst.blogspot.com
http://CyberKindle.blogspot.com
http://panspiritualist.blogspot.com/

http://www.CyberPoet.com
www.addewid.com
www.fracturedparadise.com
www.roseannlloyd.com
www.cyberkindle.com
www.perlcatalyst.com
www.ciriad.com