Intuition be a Lady tonight!

The road ahead was long and daunting. One could not see the end nor the beginning. I had imagined being there, at the conclusion of my journey, long before this time in my life. The rising and stout hills ahead of me lay in conflict to the soft rolling hills in my mind. This road was more a goat trail, a barely visible dusty and narrow path through the tall swishing, brown and green grass. I thought that maybe I was lost or had erred in the reading of my moral compass. This road was uninviting on its best of days.  Together. we had chosen this pathway to an uncertain and undefined conclusion, it was intuition that pointed the way. I should have slapped her silly, I spoke to myself. For I wanted the well-worn path that had been blazed by others. Let those other fools make the all the missteps and mistakes. We could have just breezed along that nice trodden down pathway. Oh no, she always has a better idea, a better way or maybe just a "feeling" about this or that. She is clever, much more than I give her credit for, Intuition that is. I am always blaming her for my misguided travels through this place, this wonderful place we call life. But then, I would have never possessed such a unique story to tell or a boisterous lie to swear over and about. I kinda like having her around. 

Intuition: The sum of one's knowledge and life events wrapped into a single, unspoken mental nudge. It is your imaginative right half of your brain casting their vote in the matter at hand. 

Logic: The sum of factual and accepted knowledge. Nothing else, just the facts presented in a cautious and timely manner.

I always bet on the Lady, Intuition, always.

The two wise men of backwoods county, USA

    

    There, there's that same huge oak tree, again. Driving down unfamiliar back roads searching for an unfamiliar destination, I am lost. Twenty minutes later I spy a small patch of civilization in the shape of a twentieth-century general store.  I park next to the old weathered wood sided building. I feel the weathered faces staring down upon me as I search for the scrap of paper with the address I am headed to. The two old men sitting in older wooden chairs don't smile, don't speak just stare. I put on a smile and say "Morning" No reply, just a nod and more intense staring. I explain that I am lost and ask for a little local help. The gentleman on my left, wipes his brow with his red and white printed bandana and speaks. "You can't get there from here" the gentleman on my right, dressed in faded denim overalls nods in agreement. As I try to make sense of his reply, I notice one of them is shaking their head up and down and the other is shaking his left to right. "Excuse me" The elderly farmer restates his answer. " I said, you can't get there from here. You gots to start from somewheres else." His companion still nodding his head up and down in agreement. I am lost for words but before I can ask for clarification they both crack up laughing.

Funny but true story.

Years later, those words echoed in my mind as I pondered my life's meaning and where I had been and where I was headed. "You can't get there from here" I spoke out loud. No, I just can't get to where I want to be from where I am. I spent forty years trying to be what everyone wanted me to be.

All I ever wanted to be was happy.

Sometimes you just have to start from somewhere else to get where you want to be.

Some thoughts never leave

Some days I am free, without the thought that haunts my soul. Other days and nights I just listen. Quietly, listen to the haunting words . . . .

"I hope that I, before growing past my knowing years

Can cure this blindness of my soul

Can close mine eyes and begin to see

The dawning of the man

The man my conscious, my soul and 

my God would have me be"

The drought has ended

It has been a long time since I had a thought worth sharing. Maybe you too have droughts of inspiration, just maybe. Not today.

    Looking back, I see a soul who resembles the face in my mirror. A younger more vivacious me, wild child. Long haired, gonna change the world boy who lives, now in the confines of my heart. That silly fool was going to change everybody's mind    but . . . he , instead, changed his. I see him trying to be like his father. A soldier, a restaurant owner and a Dad. Through the mist of blurred memories I see him trying to be like his spouse, farmer, fence mender, husband and a Dad. I say out loud to no one, should have stopped at Dad. All that time trying to be some one for somebody. I wonder what ever became of that long haired boy with the big ideas and dreams of changing the world. I thought that maybe if he had only pursued his dreams of changing the world, maybe just maybe the world would have been a better place. At least for him. I found myself shaking my head in agreement with myself and began to laugh. Yes, his world would have been a different place, not better just different. 

    But that was just a moment in reflection, a small space in time. Here in the real world, that long haired boy got a haircut. He got a job, several different ones and he became a Dad. Maybe , just maybe that was his purpose in this world. Maybe, just maybe the children of that long I mean short haired boy will change the world. Heaven knows it sure changed his.

    Never believe what you see, nor listen to those who say you can't change the world.

Maybe, just maybe you already have.

Broken wing, come on home

About a year ago I got a call from out west of the mississippi river, Colorado. Only persons I know there is my daughter and her family. The call went something like this . . . "Dad, Josh has been hurt and they flew him out of the grand canyon in a helicopter" then "I am packing up Wyatt and we are going to Arizona". It was worse than it sounded. Unbelievable, unfathomable and it cut straight to my soul. Paralyzed from the chest down, Josh had to take two helicopters from the canyon to reach the the nearest trauma center. C-5 was shattered beyond repair and it was pressing against his spinal cord. A few days and surgeries later, we have an update. No change. No change in Josh's body or in my daughter's belief that he will be fine. I remember my daughter saying that the doctors kept using the term paraplegic. That word was unacceptable and she told them all not to use it, ever.

Today, Josh, little Wyatt and Danielle live in a hotel room close to the hospital and rehab center. No change. No change in Josh's body or in my daughter's belief that he will be fine. Their day goes something like this. Midnight, turn Josh (six foot two and 200 pounds) so he doesn't develop bed sores, again. Repeat every two hours. Don't wake up Wyatt. Morning, spend three hours doing all the daily procedures. Ensure the twenty seven medications are taken on time and in the correct amount. Don't wake up Wyatt.  Train, oversee and watch closely the latest home care aide. Say a prayer that she won't drop Josh to the floor like that other one did. He is still in physical therapy from that incident. Cross your fingers and wish with all your heart that you won't have to call 911, again. Repeat every night, every day.

How can someone, anyone do this day in and day out? They take naps in the car while waiting for Josh to return from therapy or the hospital. No family within three thousand miles. They take it hour by hour never day by day. On a bad day it goes minute by minute and on a real bad day breath by breath. I couldn't physically do it.

But then ...

It is a very wise person that knows what is important and what is not. They are together and that is what matters most. I just pray that one day they will be together here, with the rest of their family.

Come on home, you can mend that broken wing right here.

The me you never knew

The Rabbit in the Moon

Someday, One day soon

I will leave this place, my home

Fly away to the Moon

As I watch the world fall from under my feet

I am free, I am flying, and I am gone

Flying higher, farther away from my home

One day, someday, I will be home

That day, one day soon

You will look up and see

The me you never knew, smiling back at you

The Rabbit in the Moon

Something to think about.

According to some folks, I have lost my mind. Well, that may be true but there is a good reason for their concern. I am still functioning as well as anybody else on the planet but I see the world in a different, sometimes very different light. I gave up the things that kept me sane. Things like hesitation, hate, envy and all the other self indulgent qualities that make us "Human". 

It wasn't hard or difficult to loose my mind, no not at all. The trip to madness was quite short. All I did was realize that time is not the enemy, I was. Today time is just a passing moment that I enjoy without ever attaching myself or a meaning to that moment. Kinda of like watching a leaf float down a creek. You watch it float by and you think, yes we do . We ponder where that leaf is headed and from where it sprang. What holds the leaf from sinking and how. Once the leaf passes from view, we refocus. But for those few fleeting moments, you were focused and all the world was absent from your consciousness. You lost your mind, for a moment or two.

You don't have to be crazy to enjoy the moment, but if you savor every moment people may call you crazy.

I kinda like being the only insane person in a crowd of normal people. They all give me something to think about.

Yes, that was a good day.

Somewhere, there is an old pair of boots.

I remember the day I got them. I was so proud of those old boots. I spit shined them until I could shave in their reflection. I needed those boots for my first jump out of a perfectly good aircraft, knowing it was going to land all along. Yes, I needed those boots. Even though those boots were older than I was, I loved those old boots.

Zero dark thirty just outside Columbia, Georgia and my boots are shining in the moonlight. We board the C-123 aircraft. I was thinking that this plane is older than me too. It was only a ten minute flight to the drop zone in Alabama, no time to rethink this paratrooper thing. Stand up, hook up, check equipment and stand in the door. The sun is rising and the sky is grey. We wait for the light to turn from red to green. The next moment the light changes and all you hear is "Go, Go, Go". As the wind slaps my face I look overhead to ensure my chute opened up. Next I look down to make sure my shiny boots are still on my feet. I pull on the left riser trying to turn my chute into the wind. 22 seconds later my old boots are covered with Alabama red clay. Damn, I am pissed.

Later that day I clean my boots and shine them back up. All in all it was a good day. I got my jump wings and my Dad's boots got to fly.

Yes, that was a good day.