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Surrounding September

The flies buzz around but they don't bother. They are part of the setting and sense of place. It's a a garage with a big swinging barn door, This coffee shop with a high ceiling. Dark green and dark gold appears as the Logo accents and the barn doors swing wide. Wooden beams serve as part of the support, The brick walls are painted white. The seating is communal as it should be, No more islands. Let's sit at the long table Together and sip coffee as it wafts, pushed by A September breeze rushing in through the barn doors. Finally you are settling in because place Matters more than I ever imagined compared to Others. Much more. We access the same place. But do we sense it similarly? The obvious answer should have been addressed Back in elementary school when you found yourself Gasping at sunsets, struck by vivid colors, felt sounds And never removed a childlike wonder about seeing Something for the first time and drawing it in your mind's eye. W
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TO BE EVERYWHERE IS TO BE NOWHERE (A GROWING TREE)

The man ambled out of the cafe to look at the tree up close, Someone was pouring water from a mop bucket at the tree roots. The man pouring the water stated how the decade old tree Had not been tended to carefully enough and manual watering Is required, though he wonders what the future of this tree Holds given an already wasted decade. The other trees in the same Right-of-way will need the same sort of adjusted care. The ambling man took all this information in and added to the conversation With a knowledge only capable by spending time on this block. An entire conversation unfolded about the history of the trees in the Right-of-way on a city block which has witnessed its share of Change in a decade, let alone decades. Knowing that there are people that know this much about the Trees in front of you, it’s hard not to sense the thing which Has kept you restless for months, years, maybe longer. By being everywhere you have finally found yourself nowhere at all. Even wh

Always There

You were there all along, Kept tucked away under layers, Preserved in damaged splendor Without defect other than naivety, Streams of idealistic thought Observing the Unseen within the seen, Hidden all this time while an Expedition in far country to find the lost Diverted focus from the closest possible Place to look, to seek, to find: Your chest. Within your chest. All along. Clear words pinned to your chest. Make up for what you will but there is No false sign when the heart leaps, A signal to the seeker there is much to Save from taking identity back. Swirling traps deflected and distorted, Preventing required efforts to Simply go where the trail marked a Return home for the chance to leave again, Knowing the distance created was your Own doing, wandering away from Sacred practices, rehearsed back to life just Prior to finding your archived heart.

A Self Restored /// A Voice Preserved

A person may lose their voice, they may lose their way, but they cannot lose themselves. They travel with them always. A funny thing happened on my way towards re:re:re-self discovery. I took a peak into this original blog of mine. With a caricature formed in my head regarding this blog (my own blog!) during an incredibly critical transitional period of my life over the past 2 years, I only took a peak at a couple blog entries now and then. Some of the absolute last ones posted on here. But no further. In the interim, for extremely specific reasons, I decided to launch an entirely different blog . It's too much to lay out here and is besides the point, but the new blog was rooted in describing how much my focus on several critical issues had changed and the need to play catch up on a radically different life I had formed. When I would think about blogging in general over the past 2 years, I of course laughed with a 'that's so 00's' sentiment. There are alread

of music, maps, and abandoned Homes

When your work has a face, a heart, a mind, a soul, then it is all worth doing.  After just completing a set of maps at work for a meeting of the minds, maps identifying vacant and dangerous homes surrounding select schools in the Detroit Public School system, the maps came alive. Working within the conceptual has its limits.  Maps are simply representations of the physical environment, and can be portrayed in many ways.  The hope of utilizing such data are important, one tells oneself, because it is for the children (at least in this case).  Or for the betterment of all so decisions are made with better data.  But what is this really for?  Who exactly are the ones walking home looking at abandoned buildings everyday?  Staring at dots reveal there are a lot of dots on a plain sheet of paper, minus the stories of those dodging the dots on a daily basis. Cafe Con Leche, Detroit, MI.  Elementary band performance. After finishing the maps I got to enjoy an afternoon at Cafe Con Lec

humble Pie

9 Jesus also told this parable to some who were confident that they were righteous and looked down on everyone else.  10 "Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector.  11 The Pharisee stood and prayed about himself like this: 'God, I thank you that I am not like other people: extortionists, unrighteous people, adulterers - or even like this tax collector.  12 I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of everything I get.'  13 The tax collector, however, stood far off and would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, 'God, be merciful to me, sinner that I am!'  14 I tell you that this man went down to his home justified rather than the Pharisee.  For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but he who humbles himself will be exalted."  -   Luke 18:9-14  The Parable of the Pharisee and Tax Collector.  From www.Internetmonk.com This is a parable that I find myself going back to constantly.  I am quotin

giving till it is Questioned

What happens when  I wait for things to happen, not much.  Nothing really happens.  But when I take what has been given me and run with it, things happen.  And this not of my doing, so that I would boast about it.  It is all given to me from God, and yet I squander much of what is going for me.  Christ is just too important to be taken advantage of.  I don't simply want His grace alone, I want to be able to run with that grace that has been given, with the peace that passes all understanding.  This is true witnessing of Christ, that what has been restored restores others.  That what has been given is shared.  Then, and only then, is someone curious as to where I got this grace from.