tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54366632012-02-25T20:44:01.012-08:00nativearthlingsnapshots from Earthlindanoreply@blogger.comBlogger7221100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-32088251814435245932008-11-07T05:51:00.002-08:002008-11-07T06:01:16.386-08:00Mathematically—time is just another dimension.There is no past or future—just a line in the network of dimensions.8orangesnomadicfisheslindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-37594367799898422302008-09-25T21:45:00.002-07:002008-09-25T22:23:41.154-07:00The traffic tears past so loudly-such hurry at eleven at night.In the quiet before dawn this morningthe Great Horned Owloffered his deep, organ-pipe comment-then Barred Owl countered with his nine notesand they spoke back and forth-the reassuring repetition between two old friends.It was a long time since I'd heard their voices.The owls offered comfort, affirmed the strange orderliness of the lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-86984011258457380442008-09-25T03:03:00.001-07:002008-09-25T03:10:59.306-07:00Everything is possible. My first shintaido teacher told me so. Why not, he asked.I took him at his word and found myself in places and experiences I’d never heard of nor thought of.So now why can’t I, without formal training in physics or high-level math, figure out a theory for everything by educating myself; by cutting and pasting; by skateboarding the internet and my environment for clues? lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-31132878798457135002008-09-23T21:37:00.001-07:002008-09-23T21:46:32.157-07:00At 3:15 AM, someone's cell phone in Austin, Texas contacted me from within the rhythmic, sloshing wash cycle of a washing machine. I'm not kidding. It left a very long message.lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-60241372617555849592008-09-22T19:56:00.001-07:002008-09-22T20:07:25.719-07:008orangesnomadicfisheslindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-61290371264740603552008-01-29T17:55:00.000-08:002008-01-29T19:01:12.138-08:00I’ve received email from 3 friends who visit regularly. Seems we’ve lost touch here! The link out of nativearthling is to the upper right, or you can copy and paste this URL:http://nomadicfishes.blogspot.com/Meanwhile, here's a find from Jeanne. Maybe it’ll help along the way:)http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=epUk3T2Kfno&eurl=http://dailykos.com/I'm honored by your attention.Lindalindanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-64322806868652543262007-11-18T12:10:00.000-08:002007-11-18T12:47:14.602-08:00Something new under construction.I don’t know what it is yet (!) but will report back at a later date.Meanwhile, I’m so thankful for the people in my life. I’m so thankful for you.lindanoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-47851281498378782322007-11-18T06:55:00.000-08:002007-11-18T07:03:47.242-08:00The man was tall, dressed in camouflage, dead ducks clutched in his fist. The bodies were plump, the feathers thick and glowing. He and a partner had exited the pickup, were heading for the house. There was a quietness in their movement. The birds, so fresh the kill. It was only noon.A jolt, seeing both the still fluid beauty of the birds, the recency of their death.Perhaps the men will eat lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-59959964736414994222007-11-17T21:43:00.000-08:002007-11-17T22:23:17.332-08:00Keee!...Keee!... Keee! 7 AM, there he was, up in the high branches of a pecan tree, great freckled bird missing most of his tail feathers. Tail-less red-tail. I focused the binoculars. Though his head was facing north, I could see he was angling a glance my way.Hawks have so much carriage, so much attitude with their powerful heads and hooked beaks. They are not humble birds. I swear, this guylindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-38687455464520796542007-11-16T23:40:00.000-08:002007-11-17T17:55:58.267-08:00The sun was risingabove the treetops.As I circled the field this morningagain and again for warm-ups,the lawn transformed from green to white,the grasses coated with frost...they crunched beneath my feet.lindanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-86345296657595575942007-11-15T19:51:00.000-08:002007-11-15T19:52:19.347-08:00Pine needles catch sun’s white fire;Pale hawk follows white-haired man in field.lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-54740379155353664212007-11-14T16:25:00.000-08:002007-11-14T16:21:33.514-08:00Two travelers caught a ride from the airport. Three miles down, the vehicle sputtered; the driver coasted into grass on the side of the road. The car was out of gas.As this was BC (Before Cell phones), the driver started walking to the nearest gas station for fuel.One passenger, muttering furiously, slumped low in the back seat of the car to wait. The other passenger got out, breathed fresh airlindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-19773271705743418252007-11-13T13:54:00.000-08:002007-11-13T14:00:58.432-08:00Lotsa weird stuff going on.A striped lizard keeps appearing, parading in front of me in the house. Red leaves from Nowhere litter my path. A single azalea bloom in November-and a new brood of Carolina wrens in the garage. Three wild strawberries in the grass.I found the 5 red leaves this morning under the oak where I practice. I looked and looked and found no source for red leaves, no source forlindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-73677157156539086952007-11-12T21:56:00.000-08:002007-11-12T22:04:59.319-08:00Ten little birds with red red beakslive in a cagein the reception roomof the nursing home;They twitterwelcome to every new residentwho arrives.lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-31821689357391375762007-11-11T21:44:00.000-08:002007-11-11T22:25:11.192-08:00Sunlight filtered through pine branches and an empty bird feeder.Because I practice martial arts in the morning, I have a friendship with dawning light. The sun’s position shifts day by day, creates pleats along the arc of a hand-held fan. The sun floats up from horizon to sky, strikes a new path in the yard.This morning everything was achingly beautiful. I felt weak, first day out after a lindanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-15604343220955803052007-11-10T20:19:00.000-08:002007-11-10T20:31:09.645-08:00I told someone this month about this poem-that it was by Theodore Roethke. So wrong! Here it is, by Gerard Manley Hopkins:Spring and Fall, to a Young Child Margaret, are you grievingOver Goldengrove unleaving?Leaves, like the things of man, youWith your fresh thoughts care for, can you?Ah! as the heart grows olderIt will come to such sights colderBy and by, nor spare a sighThough worlds of lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-19718368912464927192007-11-09T23:11:00.000-08:002007-11-09T23:20:14.527-08:00lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-52211306094776115052007-11-08T17:08:00.000-08:002007-11-08T17:13:10.717-08:00lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-7195384859828567452007-11-07T20:35:00.000-08:002007-11-07T20:38:38.772-08:0006 November 2005lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-1195868084744714082007-11-06T21:47:00.000-08:002007-11-06T22:23:40.483-08:00I returned again and againto the one red leafin a sea of brown.And, oh, a monarch’s wing-stained glassframed in speckled black-lay near the rosy leaf.And there, a cellophane wing of a dragonflyreflecting gray sunlightagainst green grass.(“head down, feet extended,these sociable birds delight in feeding aloft, and 20 or 30 of them wheeling overheadcan make dragonfly wings fall like confetti…as forlindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-47295571540492695932007-11-05T21:31:00.000-08:002007-11-05T21:36:18.937-08:00The Shintaido bokutoh or sword is intentionally designed to be a heavy, clunky chunk of wood so that you don't take sword work lightly. Unlike hands, or staff (boh), or walking stick (joh), the sword is by definition a weapon.The sword is a material paradox.A paradox on many scales:Heal/hurtDestruction/path clearingCripple/liberateIntimacy/distanceLight/darkDeath/lifeself/otherweighty/lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-80156549796832024532007-11-04T15:19:00.000-08:002007-11-04T15:25:49.828-08:00This popped up today on the Yahoo home page:...Currently 997 ancient oaks stand on the 450 acres known as the "beating heart of the forest," Banton said. About 450 are still living, and of those, 250 are good shape, while the other 200 are particularly vulnerable. The remainder are standing deadwood, still valuable to the forest because of the life they support.Each oak has its own management lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-68046793787159586342007-11-03T20:31:00.000-07:002007-11-03T21:33:13.609-07:00The truth isI’ve been running awayfrom writing about the trees-three tall graceful giants,the great broad oak-so braveall week standing therewithout their limbstodayworkers came with their chain sawsand mercifully finished the job.There are plenty of other trees-I know-and the road widening-36 years overdue!This week, I'd acknowledged the casualties,moved forward,focused on the living-such beautylindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-32383785236392268682007-11-02T18:00:00.000-07:002007-11-02T18:13:20.956-07:00I simply believe that there's a very organic, immeasureable consciousness of which we're a part...I believe this consciousness is so unimaginably calibrated in its sensitivity that not one leaf falls in the deepest of forests on the darkest of nights unnoticed.Now, given the immensity of this immeasureable power that I'm talking about, and given its pervasiveness through the universe (extending lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-83529294149481941282007-11-01T20:19:00.000-07:002007-11-01T20:37:03.434-07:00...or standing on the rocks by the sea and fishing with a piece of thread and a straight pin I'd bent into a hook. I did all those things, and it was fun, because on such an island poverty wasn't the depressing, soul-destroying force that it can be under other conditions.But the special beauty of Cat Island wasn't just what we had; it was also what we didn't have...I was lucky...I didn't have tolindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-44580230992795663192007-10-31T20:19:00.000-07:002007-10-31T20:22:59.836-07:00Detached. Attached. It’s good to be both. Both at the same time.I had a reheated sweet potato and a cup of black coffee for breakfast.Halloweeen breakfast.The owls were talking again, just before dawn yesterday. Halloween's scary, happy.Both at the same time.lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-55407685655951225572007-10-29T21:47:00.000-07:002007-10-29T22:13:56.583-07:00Pigeon flaps one wing,traces circles in the dust.Breathe outand inoutand ingiveand getgive and getselflessselftwo strong wingsto fly...lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-50504559851452655032007-10-28T20:58:00.000-07:002007-10-28T21:02:30.287-07:00...knotty problems often prove to be gateways to scientific breakthroughs...the cleverest scientists are more attracted to vexing questions than to comforting answers.Timothy Ferris"Raising Heaven"National GeographicNovember 2007lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-55708222374669005392007-10-27T21:27:00.000-07:002007-10-27T21:33:36.343-07:00When we’re kids in the '60s, we buy candy called ‘atomic fireballs’. We’re given gray caps with the Confederate flag emblazoned above the brim. Our Catholic school basketball team is called the Rebels, even as we finally become integrated. Someone waves the big crossed Confederate flag at games.Today as I practiced yoga on the front porch, the noise of the cars was drowned by the noise of heavy lindanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-79941580042256144932007-10-26T19:51:00.000-07:002007-10-26T19:56:06.566-07:00Zurich19 Sept 2005I was listening to two owls last night. They sounded so close to my bedroom window. The deep voiced one, whoo whoo whoo, a great horned owl. The other, who-who-who-whoo whoo, higher pitched, a barred owl. I’ve heard them both here before, but not at once.These two talked at the same time, overlapping each other, then taking turns, maybe six calls to the minute. I listened. lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-25769746222210894252007-10-25T18:41:00.000-07:002007-10-25T18:48:40.268-07:00Zurich19 Sept 2005lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-16937333269392700922007-10-24T19:43:00.000-07:002007-10-24T20:50:25.605-07:00Each October in central Texas, starting around the 10th or so, I looked forward to the arrival of monarch butterflies migrating to Mexico. On a clear blue day, they’d appear from over the valley to the north, float high above us, and on toward the southern valley and horizon. So pretty, with such focused intention. Such a journey, and as best we can tell, unplanned, not thought about nor lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-58604170132251785142007-10-23T21:13:00.000-07:002007-10-23T21:25:28.946-07:00Black beans. I felt rich...lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-69018639210072344832007-10-22T06:09:00.000-07:002007-10-22T06:48:34.064-07:00A stranger whispers Stand by Mea hand’s width from my ear;Orion catchesshooting light, stars' weightless laughter;a plaintive mewling in the darka small dish now licked clean;the wind has shifted in the nightBenevolence passing near...lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-34107519329948309652007-10-20T07:42:00.000-07:002007-10-20T07:53:07.238-07:00'I can't stress enough the importance of having a trigger to start the downswing. A trigger provides a consistent way to ignite the sequence of movements and unlock the power stored in your right side...'Muscle memory allows everything...to flow naturally...'Unlike the pros, most amateurs start the downswing with their shoulders, arms or hands, producing an over-the-top move. By starting down lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-52950910753057545272007-10-19T22:59:00.000-07:002007-10-19T23:53:00.885-07:00My mother just chanted herself to sleep. Five hours after wishing desperately to fall asleep.Such a long day for her, ordering new sitters to get out of her house. And NEVER EVER come back. Fighting a sponge bath. Ordering us to get her grits. An egg. More juice NOW please. Just one egg. Jello. Jello please. Jello. Jello please. Jello. Can I have my hamburger now? Hamburger, PLEASE. My bed is lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-71562723665223215242007-10-18T10:32:00.000-07:002007-10-18T10:40:02.419-07:00'"This is about bringing ideas into the CSU and starting a discussion,"[Gabriele Pauli] told German television...after she had unleashed a waveof criticism from other politicians.Former foe Stoiber said she did not belong in the CSU and Europeanlawmaker Ingo Freidrich dismissed her views."She is diametrically contradicting our Christian, ethical values,"Freidrich said.Peter Ramsauer, head of the lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-80552245191435932152007-10-16T08:26:00.000-07:002007-10-16T08:31:30.007-07:00'Just for the record: The Buddhist term "dukkha," (Sanskrit) is typically translated as "suffering," but this doesn't do justice to the term, which would better be translated as "The Unbearable Lightness of Being"...'-Eva ThaddeusFrom a comment in a blog called Retying Knots:http://mt.shintaido.org/archives/000044.htmllindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-69855235691941151882007-10-15T01:19:00.000-07:002007-10-15T01:34:05.865-07:00There's a difference between imagining light and awareness of light. See like a painter or photographer...see like a child...lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-39329796578571989562007-10-13T21:15:00.000-07:002007-10-13T21:20:49.775-07:00lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-34933935337620752162007-10-12T21:52:00.001-07:002007-10-12T21:56:19.059-07:00Is to teach a sweater added, or a layer removed?lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-52668545002485138842007-10-11T21:02:00.000-07:002007-10-11T21:13:33.260-07:00A gecko here in Louisiana on the first of this month. Not as transparent as the ones near Austin, but you get the idea. Above with flash, below without.lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-17642844593229814832007-10-10T14:37:00.000-07:002007-10-10T16:00:57.371-07:00I did leave in the darkness and find a friend. Many friends, a few splendid bruises, and a lotta lotta love. It’s good when you’re in a big tangle to find a temporary sub for your responsibilities and seek respite and perspective and maybe even fun for a few days. It can be good for everyone involved.Things may not change on the home front, but you will…lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-34133828783914299102007-10-09T10:06:00.000-07:002007-10-09T10:12:20.275-07:00with uncertain gaitshe comes this wayred rose on white snowshe walks awaylindanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-77202968332178251872007-10-04T23:39:00.000-07:002007-10-04T23:42:05.483-07:00"Reach out in the darkness, and you may find a friend..."lindanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-51473218773738829722007-10-03T22:44:00.000-07:002007-10-03T22:50:31.466-07:00A hamburger fetchedhold the onions;My fathersteadfast and loyal.lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-77432673324054824962007-10-02T21:11:00.000-07:002007-10-02T21:59:58.440-07:00I said to myself this afternoon, I need a sign. I don’t want any cutesy, vague signs that’ll leave me still in doubt. I need to know this time I’m doing right. I need a clear indication, go or no go.The universe was kind to me. I mean the universe is already good-humored overall. The day after I wrote about Leo Kottke, including his 6- and 12- string guitar album, out came the only live lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-28461176982896990762007-10-01T20:58:00.000-07:002007-10-01T21:22:29.577-07:00One song’ssoaring openness:I’m typing the litany of 70 happinesses-the danceof 70 cranes-the scent of 70 oranges-(Rufus Wainwright the magic key)an unusual miraclethis hot hot shirt-ah, the strange radar of love from afar- R U happythe spam mail asksmaybeI’m alivelindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-1409977212975264692007-09-30T19:32:00.000-07:002007-09-30T19:43:32.283-07:00God bless the man on the crowded buswho let the four-year-old girlin patent leather shoescurl up against his vest-his gold-link watch chain in her hand-and sleep in the sanctuary of his arm.lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-44274357398465936172007-09-29T19:34:00.000-07:002007-09-29T19:44:41.222-07:00from the San Francisco boarding house:lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-25798793163395746532007-09-28T04:53:00.000-07:002007-09-28T04:55:49.450-07:00To be a canvas fishCaught in the beakOf an Audubon craneNever to swimNever to be swallowedlindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-36346938916282970882007-09-27T22:13:00.000-07:002007-09-27T22:34:08.010-07:00According to an article today by Miwa Suzuki, researchers in Japan have developed the transparent frog. Advantages to this see-through thin-skinned amphibian include:Fewer needs for classroom dissections; students can see the working organs within the living frog.Medical researchers may be able to observe effects of their interventions as they occur-and follow any subsequent events. For examplelindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-70374072524686136482007-09-26T19:01:00.000-07:002007-09-26T19:17:29.964-07:00I take the last swallow of a glass of merlot, and notice a small maroon bump on the inside of the glass. Looks like an insect—but surely it's just a bit of cork. I look more closely, see a small, compact mass with a couple of bent legs. Ew. A dead fruit fly. Drowned in wine—perhaps not such a bad way to go.The waiter shows up to take up payment for the meal, and I bring his attention to the lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-36722617713952909802007-09-26T14:34:00.000-07:002007-09-26T14:50:41.262-07:00This time, to follow the intelligent and nicest person in the room would have led to more suffering. It was the abrasive person who told the truth. It was the abrasive person who showed the way.Still, it’s good to hear discussion, to know different perspectives have been aired and considered by all those at the table. It's good to know we all sat with the enigma of finding an ethical path…lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-17429841007221052612007-09-25T21:49:00.000-07:002007-09-25T21:54:40.281-07:00Moon is full,yet dark nightfollows long long day.My mirror is empty.lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-26625550797609760062007-09-24T20:40:00.000-07:002007-09-25T03:16:30.925-07:00I don’t know why a reptile falling on my head would give me a sense of optimism, but it did. I mean really, how many people can say that happened to them today?On the north side of the yard along the fence lined by trees, I felt something fall in my hair. I thought it was a stick, but as I brushed it off, it felt odd and it felt odd because it was alive. A black snake or lizard, I couldn’t telllindanoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-30701682250913500072007-09-23T18:27:00.000-07:002007-09-23T18:37:29.244-07:00It's the equinox...lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-14105273914133501612007-09-22T21:36:00.000-07:002007-09-22T21:42:15.032-07:00She hands two-dollar bills to strangers, to people she admires, to people who could use a boost. She has sent five at a time to my mother to distribute. She instructed my mother to give me one when she heard I was driving every which way this summer to visit sons, relatives, friends and to do a Shintaido eval. ‘Tell her not to spend it but to keep it in her purse at all times.’ A very tiny lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-57951852950192002792007-09-21T21:03:00.000-07:002007-09-21T22:18:48.888-07:00I deliberated at some length yesterday about interfering with a spider focused on building a web stretched low across the driveway. Within hours her labor would be for naught when the first car drove through. Her life likely also would be for naught. Should I break the shining support threads of her web, or mind my own business?Little spiders were in the mushrooms and grasses with webs like lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-63745362502790412742007-09-20T21:17:00.000-07:002007-09-20T21:45:27.313-07:00In Jena, a kid asked the principal if it was okay if he went under the tree. This could have been an entry point for the school's self-examination about polarization. Instead, kids were threatened by nooses. Another kid was beaten. Other kids charged with murder. The school building was burned. The tree was cut down.I want to know the kid who noted the dividing line and quietly walked under lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-49365728682070655272007-09-19T19:50:00.001-07:002007-09-19T19:54:27.971-07:00Perhaps the most profound lesson I absorbed from my first Shintaido teacher two years ago was to run toward. I had always run away…lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-33928283626567981292007-09-18T13:28:00.000-07:002007-09-18T13:39:09.569-07:00It’s an honor to prepare the dojo—or practice space—before a Shintaido class. Your feet traverse every square inch of a small world we agree to use with sincerity in hope of becoming more aware both within and outside the class.Your mind is given time to let go of family, work, car, illness concerns. Your body focuses on grass and sticks, or litter or dust, or folding chairs that are in the way.lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-78427222635894244852007-09-16T06:12:00.001-07:002007-09-16T06:34:53.428-07:00Good news.Researchers at Tokyo University have come up with ways to breed endangered fish using more plentiful species to generate sperm and eggs of the endangered species.They implant sperm-growing cells of endangered fish into the newly hatched sterile common fish. The fish grow to produce sperm--and sometimes eggs--of the endangered species which then can be used successfully for breeding.'Inlindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-91706675922915619312007-09-15T21:48:00.000-07:002007-09-15T22:08:40.903-07:00You walk awayfor just a spellYou feel the suffering of those you loveYou don’t forget the frightened faceof illness of painyou can’t fix...The nurse callsWhere were you?We need youa leaf rocked slowlyto the groundYou walked awayFor just a spelllindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-10192070915938623712007-09-14T21:59:00.000-07:002007-09-14T22:27:13.831-07:00The man was sitting alone in the kind of place where no one sits alone, noisy on Fridays because over half the community is Catholic and on Fridays you eat seafood, and this was Nimbeaux’s, a Cajun seafood restaurant and it’s always slow and packed on Fridays. His silence impressed me which is rather ridiculous since, sitting alone, most men would be silent. But his stillness, the absence of lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-91128879467458245532007-09-13T03:23:00.000-07:002007-09-13T03:40:48.172-07:00fork offers peaches to trembling lipsrain fallstender and forgivinglindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-17475984141477363782007-09-12T21:08:00.000-07:002007-09-12T21:35:00.689-07:00I apologize. This blog is not very honest.I have this sort of interior goal, that what I write, even if at times dark, should be at core optimistic, uplifting. That someone who follows this blog could come to read and reasonably expect to leave feeling: Hm. Maybe there's hope.Oh, I'd like to be like that, and for that to be my truth.But I was just skimming bits of a novel whose first draft I lindanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-41417683827671386282007-09-11T18:24:00.000-07:002007-09-11T18:31:14.095-07:00Of course if your data’s wrong or warped, the answer won’t be right no matter how logical the process.And say when you were young, a cake was baking in the oven, the aroma of vanilla permeating the room. And then a tornado blew in, wreaking noisy hellish havoc in your yard and neighborhood.Perhaps every time in the future when you smell vanilla-especially when you’re not aware of it-your stomach lindanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-34085314346743326842007-09-10T21:06:00.000-07:002007-09-10T21:25:33.794-07:00Intuition may be a form of leap-frog, where, like in chess or in soccer, we have played the game so often that we no longer need to calculate every little step.Another aspect of intuition may be the logical processing of data of which we are unaware. For example, our noses pick up familiar scents while we’re chatting with a friend. The subtle smells, and small visual and auditory cues, are lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-78411491233391600782007-09-09T20:44:00.000-07:002007-09-09T21:10:16.430-07:00Linear thought will get you there, but synchronicity or a good metaphor will take you right to the core...Then there's the dream, the poem, the painting, the intuition, a soulful guitar solo...You can walk, or Beam me up, Scotty!I understand the great mathmaticians make the intuitive leap first in a flare of inspiration, then put in the hours or years of grunt work to prove logically what they lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-58801979901756675822007-09-07T10:01:00.000-07:002007-09-07T10:04:12.038-07:00There's promise in every phase, richness in every challenge, beauty in decay...lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-24134028719107792212007-09-05T21:34:00.000-07:002007-09-05T21:47:05.049-07:00Finally without recoursewe bring our illness to room 500first door on the rightthe ice chips and red jellocanned peaches and needles taped to bruised arms,tubes and mechanical beds, and the little squares (metallic paper envelopesthat held antiseptic wipes)float to the floorconfetti and IV drip cocktailstestify to the irony of body.we breathe inantibacterials and meatball stew on rice.shall we lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-84272297945811824432007-09-03T22:52:00.000-07:002007-09-03T22:55:55.894-07:001 August 2007Utah?Cedar Mountainslindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-44916538256885302232007-09-01T22:51:00.000-07:002007-09-01T22:56:43.158-07:00'to everythingthere is a seasonand a time to every purpose under heaven...'Ecclesiasteslindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-18010875713116155062007-08-31T23:19:00.000-07:002007-08-31T23:49:11.460-07:00And so we knowphases of Lovetrace a path like the moon,not always full and glowingbut a red-hued gibbousor silver arc-the moon can hide in sun’s bright lightor in earth’s umbra-in constant motionit glides through phaseswith perfect timing-a slow-spinning dancerdressed in light and shadow-that wanes to a spangled threadand disappears-we trust Love is there in the darklindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-27752559627290809492007-08-30T21:34:00.000-07:002007-08-30T21:43:35.740-07:00I’m eating a bowl of cereal. I wonder where the blueberries and grapes ripened, whose hands picked them. I wonder about the texture and moisture and scent of the earth. I wonder about where the stalks of oat and wheat blew in what wind under what sun. I'm eating sun transformed into food.lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-25610700835111081662007-08-29T23:14:00.000-07:002007-08-29T23:31:04.145-07:00It's been a long, long day for everyone in our household. But even challenging days have their moments.There is one Mississippi Kite remaining. Its company is a pleasure. A couple mornings back, it cried out again and again, as though hoping one of its companions would show up. I thought it would catch up with the others in the colony; they're migrating I presume. But the loner was here again lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-30452677339525968282007-08-28T20:41:00.000-07:002007-08-28T22:21:52.455-07:00It’s a photo with a glacial mountain, white clouds against blue sky, a few deep purple flowers, and a cairn in the shadow of another peak. Cairns are human-constructed stacks of stones that may mark a trail, or a grave, or the apex of a mountain. In some places, hikers are expected to carry a stone with them to add to the cairns, a sort of ongoing repair system since the elements tend to break lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-69114989943742554822007-08-27T21:09:00.000-07:002007-08-27T21:13:58.627-07:00The old doctor retires. The new doctors’ offices say, one by one, ‘Sorry. We’re not accepting new Medicare patients at this time.’I ask, ‘What if we pay for the visits?’‘That’s against the law. We have to pay a four thousand dollar fine for each Medicare patient who pays us.’‘There’s breaking the law, then there’s the issue of the ethics of turning away elderly in need of care.’Silence.The lindanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-25750937692123974992007-08-26T20:08:00.000-07:002007-08-26T20:14:22.476-07:00San Francisco27 July 2007lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-47240845959783843642007-08-25T19:28:00.000-07:002007-08-25T20:32:50.039-07:00its two-note call pierces the airagain and againi jump out of bedand race to the porchthere it perchesoverseeratop the pine snagone last Mississipi kiteits fierce forma dark silhouetteagainst the morning sunits plaintive cryslashesthe weighted airand againinsists on being heardand againshriek-marksmy heartlindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-38994406628033022442007-08-24T21:20:00.000-07:002007-08-25T05:15:11.108-07:0027 July 2007San Franciscolindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-86823985043744438192007-08-23T15:43:00.000-07:002007-08-23T15:48:19.447-07:00Her backso narrow, so curved,so knotted beneath your fingersthat must gently search for where it hurts;her words cannot explain.You hope tocomfort, to returnsome share of the Touchher hands have givena thousand and a thousand patientsacross her lifetime…lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-46761313896452301902007-08-22T21:59:00.000-07:002007-08-22T22:09:42.516-07:00I try to writewhat stands out in light3-D in a 2-D worlda hologramwithin a dreamsometimes there's too muchthe same stara part of six constellationsor a constellationwith too many starsI tryto writeto scoop the starsinto my sieveonly to findan empty netand pages of escaping fisheslindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-31958875329579779682007-08-20T20:54:00.000-07:002007-08-20T21:11:50.078-07:00To seek happiness is not a selfish act, but a generous act. You feel better, and your joy touches those around you, softens trauma, transforms the mundane. It spreads like light at dawn. Who knows. To be happy may be the way to change the world. Happy people don't start wars.lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-27912057409148601842007-08-19T21:19:00.000-07:002007-08-19T21:24:25.861-07:00The sun rises later and later.I aim forward.In a green grass sea of a million and nineonly one bladereflects sun’s light-a water dropleton fire.I follow.Now, one leaf along the fence line dangles and beckons;grass blades catch lighttwo here, three there.I’m on my way…lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-21725927253901114212007-08-18T10:15:00.000-07:002007-08-18T10:33:52.540-07:00'The sight of the birds in the wild amazed early travelers: "My gun remained idle in my hand as I was too astonished to shoot," admitted naturalist Rene Lesson, who visited New Guinea in 1824 and brought back the first eyewitness account. "It was like a meteor whose body, cutting through the air, leaves a long trail of light." Their names bespeak the wonder they inspired: superb bird, lindanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-78246798098297948682007-08-17T20:35:00.000-07:002007-08-17T20:36:55.563-07:00Today, a nurse who owns a medical supply store let us have a wheelchair for my mother for a few hours. He didn’t want me to sign papers releasing him from liability. He didn’t want ID or credit card. He didn’t want my name. He didn’t want money. He showed me how to open it, to lock the wheels. The wheelchair was brand new, black metal and nylon, with plastic wrap still covering the brake lindanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-68432005004004714262007-08-16T20:32:00.000-07:002007-08-16T21:17:41.933-07:00About to fold it, put it away, I look at the map. I look at the long, long yellow line, highlighting the route. Wow! I did that. That’s a pretty big deal.And it’s no big deal.When you’re in the car day to day, it’s just putting the foot to the pedal—or the cruise control on—and stopping for gas when the tank runs low. Truckers do it all the time. Back and forth across the continent. No. No biglindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-61123022248026619132007-08-15T18:33:00.000-07:002007-08-15T18:57:55.495-07:00I like these. I stole them from Rob Brezsny.(1) "Only when he no longer knows what he is doing does the painter do good things." - Edgar Degas. (2) "Sell your cleverness and buy bewilderment." – Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks. (3) "All of us are crazy good in one way or another." - Yiddish saying. (4) "You are either losing your mind -- or gaining your soul." - Julia Cameron.lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-87070500485664208932007-08-14T18:00:00.000-07:002007-08-14T18:14:07.876-07:00When we had gerbils, we’d talk about hooking up their exercise wheel to generate electricity. They spun so fast, their feet a blur, they ran with intensity! We had to acknowledge that with the enormous costs of feeding Jet and Pepper and cleaning their cage, it might not be the most economical nor feasible source of energy.On a short leg east on I-10 from Kerrville to San Antonio, I drove lindanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-83300108581125581002007-08-13T18:34:00.000-07:002007-08-13T19:39:01.159-07:00Sometimes you feel inadequate to the cause. You listen to conversations about drones that fire missiles without humans at the controls. About submarines that aim at targets 50 miles away. You’re out of your league. There’s so much you don’t know about these things that continue to be developed and deployed. You mention perhaps humans should have an ethic that you do not kill anyone you can’tlindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-11853709736240550282007-08-12T04:12:00.000-07:002007-08-12T04:43:56.325-07:00What was most enormous about this trip was love.Even with all of the barriers I've welded in place.Across the country, wherever I landed: sons, very dear friends, teachers and their families, co-students, the wife of my former husband, people on buses and behind counters, people far away who popped up now and again via internet, a wise and funny aunt.It is possible, even in the more difficult lindanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-36688659545284337042007-08-11T22:25:00.000-07:002007-08-11T22:31:07.437-07:00I spent much of today writing.Transcribed narcissistic jottings from the backs of envelopes and paper bags written one-handed at 70 miles per hour cross-country on an ice chest in the passenger seat.Two weekends ago, I became an advanced student of Shintaido. Which basically means you abruptly learn in a truly loving way how little you know. Not only how little you know about Shintaido, but how lindanoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-6885236444679369212007-08-10T19:51:00.000-07:002007-08-10T19:55:10.081-07:00We found a stack of copies of Desiderata at the dentist's office the other day...Desiderata by Max Ehrmann c. 1920Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant, they too have their story. lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-2014036292999945572007-08-05T23:09:00.000-07:002007-08-05T23:17:51.363-07:00Squirrels will hang for an hour, draped along a branch like a limp dishcloth. Cats are notorious for their naps. Turtles bask in the sun, one behind the other on a half-submerged log. The busy ant will pause in hold in underground tunnels, doing absolutely nothing. Even God is reported to have taken a day off. Humans need no reason. Rest is good. Rest.lindanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-49963555148563645442007-08-05T07:58:00.000-07:002007-08-05T08:23:22.660-07:00On the way to visit a friend in Cheyenne, I saw a pasture of camels. I passed a field of sunflowers, all nodding their heads east.After supper last night back in Fort Collins, I went for a walk. Perhaps I'd end up in town. As soon as I stepped into the parking lot and looked around, though, I knew I wanted to head toward the mountains. I walked to the street called Horsetooth and aimed west. lindanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-75866276288346669602007-08-03T21:32:00.000-07:002007-08-03T22:21:05.784-07:00There is a Shintaido meditation workshop focused on oceans taking place this weekend at beautiful Whidbey Island in Washington State. Part of the attention is on plastic wastes and their destructiveness to ocean health and the well-being of people, ocean creatures and plants. In honor of the intent of the meditation, these last few days, I’ve tried to stop acquiring new plastic materials. Here lindanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-10290249696901606742007-08-03T14:23:00.000-07:002007-08-03T14:33:42.654-07:0008-02-078:11 PMHaven’t been in a thunderstorm like this before. One great blast after another, each one setting off a car alarm. Beep beep beep until the owner turns it off and the lightning turns it on again.08-03-073:08 PMThe storm last night here in Fort Collins was enormous. Lightning strikes with nearly no pause in between. Flying sheets of rain. The roof where my son worked was leaking. lindanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5436663.post-63814187823269114372007-07-30T23:10:00.000-07:002007-07-30T23:43:08.926-07:00chimes sing flowers glow in radiant lighteight humans shape peace this nightlindanoreply@blogger.com1