I notice that the way I stop journalling is not by stopping, but by dwindling off; letting the frequency fade.
The only time I kept somwhat steadily to my journal was the three years I spent exploring my spiri9tuality.  Of course, I haven’t finished.  I never will. 

I consciously stop myself, spending my time on “the 10,000 things.”  I rationalize that I can’t separate the ONE from the 10,000…unlike George Carlin who separated the 7 from the 100,000.  We will miss him – though he believed in the 7, not the ONE – Now he knows.

Hard to distinguish intention from vision, goal, mission,…  All of these words have a role in propelling us to the future…and sometimes I think the difference is in my mood.  What it looks like today is that my intention is motivating me to stop this and start that, to get on with it.

My intention is to focus on my income potential… so this looks like indulgence – It’s taken a while to babysit with Camron, cook and eat breakfast and break away from today’s book.  So I’m behind.  Have to pass over my email and get going.  Money distracts me and I have to undistract.  Always helps to restate my commitments-bringing joy and satisfaction to people’s lives – in harmony with Earth; environmental sustainability, social justice and spiritual fulfillment to all.

I have to ask what I intend with this.  I no longer write every day; I’ll have to get a WIFI, so I’ve fallen short of that intention.  And I have to confess that I don’t even know why I do this… some peculiar form of stubborn.  I think I’ll stop

Our youngest, Ariel, gave birth yesterday shortly after 4AM to a lovely boy, un-named as of this writing…a natural childbirth.  She will be home tomorrow.  She had to fill out all sorts of forms because she won’t allow any vaccinations.

He is my 8th, and likely last grandchild.  I’ve been very laid back about him, but as I write various friends I realize how excited I really am.  There’s something in that – how sharing with others reveals you to yourself.

So in this year so far, our youngest daughter Ariel has given birth, Sunny, our oldest - because of Aliya’s love – is moving to a house of her own.  I tell you, her yard is the yard of a million dollar home and the home is in Hamilton, near an excellent school.  And my now next older grandson is almost 8 months old – He talks with me all the time.

When you have family like that, nothing else matter.  We are blessed One More Time.  I am secure in my commitments – to a sustainable planet, to social justice and to spiritual fulfillment.

Memorial Day has always ben considered the unofficial start of summer.  But can that be May 27 pr is it still June 1.  I get confused.  Are the pools open?

Anyhow, it’s back to work.  I’ve been really lazy these last few days – even ignoring this.  I’ve had my fill of old war movies and basketball.  PBS had an airing of Truman, starring Harry Truman, not Jim Carrey.  His maturation was extraordinary… particularly when you realize that the A-bomb was only the first of his critical decisions and he has grown large in history.  … larger when you contrast him with (shudder) Bush.

I’m still not back.  That’s clear.

It’s too nice

and I don’t trust it
i’ve become a cynic

I just walked Camron
just around the block
I sweat; it’s pretty
it’s pretty and nice
and I don’t trust it
i’ve become a cynic

I remember longing
for days like this
hearing music on the street
rolling Camron to the beat
walking slow
seeing summer coam around
it’s really nice
and I don’t trust it
Like George Bush saying something right
and turning day into a long night
I don’t trust it
i’ve become a cynic,
afraid of beauty
afraid of this one’s
new tomorrow
afraid of beauty
sowing sorrow

knowing that i’m silly
not embracing what is, what’s now;
the devil take tomorrow
I can deal with sorrow
when it comes
why bother with it now
why bother with it now
why bother with it now

This is about contradiction.  There’s no work.  There’s no school.  It’s a perfect day; temperature 80+, cloudless sky, just the right breeze.  And it’s memorial day.  Be happy.  Remember the dead, the brave, the sacrificed.  Watch war memories on television with the windows open.

How do we be on a day like this?

Here’s how I am.  Happy, playing with happy grandchildren, being outside.  Praying the war will end — everywhere, praying for us to build our future, not destroy it — saying what I want, writing poems.  Being grateful for what we have, for what works, for today.

Going for a walk.

As soon as the sun shines, I take Camron for a walk – he loves it; so do I.

The one area where my memory is non-existent is in the names of  pieces if music.  This doesn’t bother me with pop tunes – I just don’t care. But when classical pieces that I know well tickle my mind and my mind  comes up empty, I get annoyed.  I don’t make it mean anything, I just get annoyed.  Is this The Planets? or is it the Fountains of Rome?  and why do I give a shit?

I’m at 6s and 7s today… start of a long weekend and I haven’t spent enough week.  Do you get like that?

Group Coaching is an interesting phenomenon,,, a lot like a jazz combo – one riff comes after another and flies above it.  The rhythym of the group creates a certain tension that facilitates the solos.  Sounds strange, I know, but the things that are said are often unpredictable.

Last night we dealt with each person’s goals.  I saw that the way we normally treat a goal is similar to the way we usually deal with a project – in some sense like a straight line.  Here’s the starting point – then this step, that step, and on until this milestone is reached, then that and so on.  That’s not even what happens with project plans.  We lose sight of “Man plans, God laughs.”  When plans are fixed, we often scramble to deal with frequent emergencies, shifts in outside factors, oversights, etc.  They often seem to rely on one or two people who somehow deal with the breakdowns and move forward regardless.

Goals rarely start with a well-defined plan; the plan -if any – is usually incomplete or non-existent.  There’s often floundering around, searching for a useful direction.  I use the prairie dog metaphor — constantly sicking your head out and scanning the horizon to see what’s next.  Course correction is constant; ‘next’ is often more valuable than ‘forward.’  Too many people are discouraged by an apparent blunder.  Blunders teach.

Anyhow – ’nuff said.  I’ve begun to listen … Our hierarchy is often urgent – important and, if we’re good – commitments.  The trouble is we confuse contexts.  Commitments are paradigmical; urgent – even important are in a different domain.  When I coach, I put that in the domain of my commitments.  For me it’s all interconnected with a sustainable world, spiritual fulfillment and social justice.  And it’s all in the domain of living a joyous and satisfying life, in harmony with earth

I haven’t been up to getting moving – It’s 3PM and I’m starting.  email takes too effing long; even just deleting…

I am working at separation — separating the work I do for tomorrow and the work I do for today.  It’s difficult because in my mind tomorrow always has precedence.  But today is earning a living.  Today has the virtue of immediacy, the call of urgency.  Tomorrow has the virtue of pleasure, the call of importance.

It seems we are all caught by the pull of urgency and the call of importance.

And between Scylla and Charybidis is commitment… my commitment to a sustainable tomorrow – without it there ain’t me, us or it… the commitment to spiritual fulfillment that makes it all worthwhile, that gives it meaning beyond facts….the commitment to social justice becayuse it’s not just you and me and never has been… and we forget that.