A Dream of Tug of War

 

One of my nighttime dreams that stands as an inspiration for levels of consideration and care.  

Yes, last night I dreamed of a tug of war

Between our dearly departed dog and me

Seemed so real, nothing less, nothing more

Just a visit from our dear Hennessy

I questioned what she wanted with this boy

I didn’t know what she would bring

At last, she brought to me a toy

It was a fluffy, chewy, funny type thing

We lost our girl in 2021, you see

It was so deeply painful to the core

And now I’m left with just a dream

A dream of tug of war

She was the one who started the game

She pulled, and then shook from side to side

Of course, I played along just the same

No other option really but to oblige

She was always the one to offer up the prop

It was just her way to have me included

She had to have both her mom and pop

She was never one to have any fun excluded

She’d invite me on walks no matter the weather 

She’d stand there planted, and stare at me

The whole pack had to be walking together

That was the way of Hennessy 

So the tug of war, was it really a fight

Or just a way to have some fun?

Was someone supposed to feel a slight

Or had play time just begun?

Surely, this was now a time to connect 

To find that game we could play together 

Full of mutual joy and mutual respect 

How I wish it could last forever 

But one dream ends and another begins 

What is one to do when a goodbye is in the cards

Who cares who loses and who wins

Isn’t life and all its losses already too hard 

For life is never what it really seems

Let us play the games and not be sore 

Even though sadly, I’m left with just a dream

A dream of tug of war

The Valentine of Mine

Written on Valentine's Day 2023 for my wife Jennifer.

The Valentine of mine 

In the world that is sublime

Full of rhythm, meter, and rhyme

Singing bowls echo as to remind 

I cordially bow at this time 

To you, the Valentine of mine 

 

The Valentine so true

Even when we don’t know what to do 

Searching for ways to forever start anew

Searching for unlimited vistas and views

Searching for highest versions of me and you

Yes you, the Valentine so true

 

The Valentine on high

Whose spirit will explore ways to fly

Having experienced so many reasons to cry

Hearing the sweet whispers of spirit’s reply 

The ultimate truth of unity will never lie 

Her, the Valentine on high

The Valentine of light

Erasing all versions of wrong and right  

Returning pure perception to our sight

Through any tumultuous times, we hold on tight   

I endeavor to face any foes in gallant fight 

For you, the Valentine of light

 

The Valentine so kind

Rekindling a heart, soul and mind 

Polishing my rough edges to shine 

A gift given from the invisible, eternal divine 

A gift for both of us to find 

A gift of you, the Valentine of mine 

The Valentine of mine 

 

On the Floor of the San Jose International Airport

San Jose International Airport, Southwest Airlines, Gate 12 about 100 feet beyond the Chick-fil-A, near the window, on the floor, 9:30 pm pst. 

On Zoom with the wife.  

Yes, we accomplished our goal. 

Keeping the commitment to participate in the 30-day Core Challenge with Calvin of Alo Moves yoga. 

Yeah, we were on Day 29, so how could we let a bit of inconvenience get in our way? 

Maybe the real challenge is overcoming obstacles towards our goals, moreso than any physical exertion. 

In either case, completed and successful! 

What's next?

She'll Be In Our Arms Regardless

 

In texting with my niece Grace, we were trying to get clear on the best days and times to set up a Zoom call so we could connect. She and her husband Cody moved to Indiana a couple years ago, along with their Abigail Faith. On December 6, the family welcomed Allison. There needed to be a game-plan so we could all be on the same screen at once. Grace came up with the most poetic phrase. I grabbed it. 

 

As we planned out a long-distance video call

We wanted to make sure we could see everyone 

We didn’t want to miss out an anyone at all

But naps come to those who are routinely under one

Yes, dear Allison only two months, would need to come along

We’d have Grace, her husband Cody, and little Abigail in tow

Leaving anyone out would simply be so wrong

Family connections are forever, for those you really know

For these are timeless moments that we’ll always want to keep

Great niece Allison is innocent, pure, small, and harmless

She will be there, whether wide awake, fidgety, or asleep 

Says Grace, “She will be in our arms … regardless”

She will be in her arms regardless the time and the day 

She will be there if she yawns, naps or cries

She will be there most likely with nothing much to say

But with a sweetness whose limit is the infinite skies 

For babies, kids and children of God are simply made this way 

At core, we shimmer and shine in a surrendered state, defenseless

Just like Allison, we’ve been blessed by the Divine this and every day 

Grace says, “She will be in our arms … regardless”

Now I imagine there is another type of world 

One that does not recall the miracle of love 

Forgetting the innocence of the little boy and girl 

Never looking towards a high heaven above 

It is filled with heartache, rage, guilt, and sorrow

Darkened by despair, deceit, and disconnection 

Tragic is the manifestation from enmity and ego 

Awaiting the depth of release that comes from reflection

Wandering around in the forest of folly, the grand delusion

There we are lost; it is sad, separate, and senseless

But underneath the layers, we can find the true solution 

Yes … says Grace, “She will be in our arms … regardless”

So, rest assured lonely travelers, you can discover the path

From the eternal ocean, all drops of water shall reside  

Fishers of men, the line has been surely cast 

No longer can your illumination be set aside 

You are invited, with an everlasting invitation, to the timeless call 

To a haven elevated, heart-filled, humble, priceless

No one will ever, ever, ever be missing at all 

For Grace reflects the truth: “She will be in our arms … regardless”

The Sweetest of Dreams

Yesterday I received a call from my 100-year-old aunt, Amy.

She is the sweetest thing.

A couple thoughts come to mind when that phone rings and I see her number. One is “Uhh, no matter what is going on - ANSWER IT!” The other is “I bet this is about one of her recent dreams.” We like to share our dreams we have about our family members, especially those who have passed on. And as she consistently reminds me, everyone from her childhood has indeed passed on. One of them includes her brother … my father.

Yesterday after answering the phone, she went straight to the point. Yes, she had a dream. This one wasn’t about my dad, but rather it was about HER dad.

She reminded me that she and her father did not have a good relationship. In fact, she grew up with the thought, “Why does my father not like me?”

Oh, she had a couple theories. One was that she wasn’t as good of a golfer as her sister. Another was that her birth marked the end of the supplemental income that her mother would bring in. Whatever the case, she had a lifetime of discord and distance with her dad.

Ever since 1973, the year my grandfather passed, since Amy was 49 years old, she said she carried this pain and resentment. She said, “I was never mean, but I’ve always been mad.”

Well, I guess it’s lucky that time is a construct of the mind and can be molded in malleable ways ... especially in those etheric realms. For it would be 51 years later, within this Thursday morning dream that her father would return to her.

Amy and her father were both on a golf course, interestingly enough.

He approached and simply looked at her and said, “I am sorry for the way that I treated you.” He then gave his daughter a long and loving hug.

Hearing of this moving dream, I asked Amy how she felt. “Relief! I don’t have to be mad at him anymore.”

She said it with a smile.

And I imagine she said it with a heart healed through the everlasting eternal love that does exist between family members, soul tribes, and in this case a father and a daughter.

With Apologies

“One of the very worst uses of time is to do something very well that need not to be done at all.” 
        ― Brian Tracy

Today I was on the phone with a dear friend. And our conversation led to her saying a phrase I don’t routinely hear in a day. “I had to repent.” Wow. The result of our conversation opened my eyes and opened my heart.

We were talking about her desire to create some short videos for an organization, project, and cause of which we both support. We talked about how people’s short attention span has led to the popularity of brief 10 – 30 second clips on such sites as TikTok.

As we talked, she recalled the time where she was attracted to one short clip, which led to her watching a series of related clips. You know the ole “If you liked this one, we suggest watching this one, and this one … and this one…” You get the idea.

Well, she recalled how a 1-minute timeout turned into one entire hour of being glued to the worldwide webspace.

Her response to this experience?

“I had to repent.”

I thought that was a bit of an odd statement. Repent? What the hell was she watching?

Knowing her, it was of course something pretty benign, maybe even silly.

She then said the magic phrase that hit me deep in my gut and heart. She told me, “I had to say out loud, 'I am sorry Lord for wasting your time.'”

Oh my.

It wasn’t about just wasting time. It wasn’t just about using her OWN time unwisely. But it was about using unwisely the time that God had gifted her on that day. This woman values time in a very elevated way - as a gift from the highest.

She holds time spent not just for her and what she can get out of life, but what she can give to others in the most precious way.

Sure, there is time for fun in life. And yet, if we are aiming towards a higher purpose, each moment can be consciously spent. The gift that this woman gave to me this day was the awareness that my time can be held precious as well.

Thank you God.

Goodbye Beautiful

Upon the passing of a dear friend Lisa Kalison, a celebration-of-life service brought forth her husband Attila Tota, who delivered the most exquisite and transparent delivery of love. One memory stood out to me, as did the last words of a particular story. It sounded so poetic. 

She would not let you leave the house so fast

No, that just would not do

An emotion and an experience that was meant to last

A kiss from you to her … and her to you 

She’d appeal to you as you took your leave

In a ritual so precious, so rich, so full

A chance to give, a chance to receive 

After each kiss: “Goodbye handsome” … “Goodbye beautiful”

 

Such a custom came from a soul so pure

Not a demand, really, at all

She just wanted to make 100 percent sure

From the front door porch, she would call 
You would of course grant her this wish

And return to her in a graceful deed 

A kiss neither of you would want to miss

Fulfilling the sentiments of a sacred need

A gesture bringing closer the energy, the life 

Mind to mind, lips to lips, eye to eye

The dance of unity, a husband and wife

A parting farewell, a beautiful goodbye

 

Now, since time has passed, and we have all lost our friend

The rituals turn to something more surreal 

Signaling neither the beginning, nor even the end 

We embrace a timeless world so real

We’ve had to deal with the parting and the pain 

Allowing grief and sadness to have its say

An experience for you, we could never really name

Providing a path for the truth, the life and the way 

Seeing the curtain come down one last time 

For souls recognizing that which remains full

Reminding us of a reality beyond the borderline

In an everlasting kiss: “Goodbye handsome” … “Goodbye beautiful”