At least 50% of survival and success in life

occurs/can occur with simple organization and planning. This is a simple, but subtle point lost in the lives of myriad people.

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For Ron (1955-2015)

I don’t normally go to funerals except to m.c. or eulogize for those who have been family, special or otherwise close. Yesterday was an exception.

Ron, as everyone will tell you in that packed funeral home, was the nicest guy who had a smile for anyone and everyone. He was universally well-liked and always kept things light. He was also a boy from the North side who got to live out his musical dreams with his close childhood friend S. They travelled far to places like England where they visited all the Beatles shrines and Ron walked back and forth across Abbey Road several times, ecstatic to have lived out another of his many musical fantasies connected with the group who provided most of the music in the hour before the ceremony started yesterday. He also became friends with Gerry Marsden, the leader of the legendary Gerry and the Pacemakers who talked on the phone yesterday with S. before the funeral.

But Ron was also, as S. put it, a math rock star here in Alberta with many websites and much of his best work from his U of A and AB Ed days still and permanently online. S. spoke of going to a convention with Ron and as they passed through the crowd, people were turning to one another whispering “That’s Ron _______.” He was that highly respected for his knowledge and wisdom subject-matter.

He and I both respected each other for our subject matter expertise (mine was English) when we briefly were dept. heads at Scona under a weak, fascistic principal who drove both of us from our jobs–Ron from the school the next year. He was that sunny kind of guy, in a hurry and not wanting to waste his talents, efforts, and time working for someone inferior to him whom he did not respect and who did respect him. Years later he would often say to me, “Teachers don’t know how hard they work” and felt sympathy for those of us still in the trenches once he had moved further into impressive curricular development for teachers and students.

It was in those days when we first met that we got close, visiting each others’ homes and playing music for each other. Ron borrowed music from me and he more than reciprocated for me, giving up albums and many rare dubs. He was incredibly generous to those closest to him.

He and S. went on a final road trip in December and when S. said goodbye to him before Christmas, he was in his usual jovial high spirits, higher than usual with his new wife and adopted family. Ron had just turned 60, and I was surprised when I found this out because he had lived such a rich, full, happy life. Like myself, he had done so much and lived out his biggest dreams and several lives (like his cat Opus) before he turned 60.

So yesterday was not a day to feel sorry for him–only his family and friends who now palpably feel their massive loss as a new week dawns. Ron’s attitude to life and others was totally exemplary. He was a great, good man and a lot of fun to be around. I will miss not seeing him at concerts down the road and will remember him as a one-of-a-kind kindred spirit who netted so much of daily, ever-ticking life.

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Lastly

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“And in the end, the love you take/Is equal to the love you make.”–Paul McCartney

Icebergs–there is always
so much we cannot see
or know of one another
even of ourselves.

I would think those
with imagination, love,
faith, desire and perspective
likely knew me best.

In the time it took
to understand, accept,
love and appreciate,
they knew who I was.

So I probably gave back,
yes, the empathetic poet
and long-time lover
who loved most freedom.

That freeing of self and others, too
from this freezing limit and that
as we found our ways
with the grace and price of love.

And the power of words,
an articulate sharing of whatever
consciousness we lived
as those truths of our experience.

……………………………..

As close to a premature self-bestowed memorial poem as I care to get….

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And so lately

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I choose this island
and its freedom from false face.
I select a landfall apart
from the swell and tides of others.

I claim this lone strand
for the Dominion of Self.
Unattended by minions, I live
without the cant of congregations.

Self-governed, yet worthy
I shun the uncentered
fawners for lost pieces
in the shadows of Other.

I pick my comings and goings,
my music and arts.
I cull first flowers
and pitch the weeds of dependence.

My mind sharpens and sculpts itself
in monuments to glory and love
begging naught of another.

I go it alone, unafraid and unperplexed.
Respectful of this reign,
my hopes people this island.

I harvest the metaphors of life
with a timeless abandon
that knows no thought of Other.

Bygone, the grey deep moans,
now distant, unheard.

***************************************************************************

“I sometimes think I inhabit my own country.”–Tennessee Williams

A major turning point in my life from about 1990 A.D.. A very strengthful detachment and repositioning of my life. And, looking back, far from a simple, mindless, conventional withdrawal or escape. A rebirth of significant personal consciousness and a new, truer identity as things turned out. I ‘remade’ myself in this single, signature poem and (re)confirmed my own autonomous self. And “the rest has made all the difference”, as Frost said.

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Proximity

Close to ‘It’ on many daze
that elusive feeling
of sublime contentment.
The satisfaction of
knowing who I am
and what might really matter.

Much was precarious
and misfire, missed opportunity.
Close calls amid
the moments of being.

And all the while becoming.
Restless. Process.
Like a cold mountain stream.
The predestined collective impression
of all who knew me
along my vertiginous edges.

Realizing late
the slow climb
and precipitousness
of love–
the eternal assay.

Never rueing though,
just enjoying the heights
after all,
what it meant
to be so close, periodically
dissolved into something
or someone else.

It is there you will
finally find me
when recalling what it meant
to be who I really was.

Then you, too,
might come close,
be proximate your self.
Mirror-like.
Essence.

…………………………………………………………….

Something resembling a summing-up in terms of many dreams. “It”–that elusive self-knowledge, ultimate truth, revelation, or epiphany. I’ve certainly reached stanza 1′s satisfaction with what self-knowledge and information about personal identity I have achieved. As well as a common sense awareness of things that do or don’t matter off the cuff.

Stanza 2–my list of misfires is a long one; everyone has such a list. I, fortunately, don’t have too many missed opportunities. The many moments of being have luckily counterbalanced the close calls.

Stanza 3–becoming, what is probably the most interesting part of dreams–how they change/d us. The Process definitely is a restless one and, as the poem, indicates, a lifelong process or quest. To a large extent, others’ opinions or views of oneself fall into a collected collective and they will be what they will be apart from anything one could do or affect–i.e., are “predestined”. “Vertiginous edges”–well, there have been many and this always has kept life interesting. (One thing I have lately realized is how much people generally ‘push the envelope’ in just about any activity you might care to name. Human nature?)

Stanza 4–I feel life has been a slow steady climb (for me anyway)–the hard-earned quality of process and self-knowledge. Love gets in this stanza as it should and perhaps must. “The eternal assay”–assay as in attempt.

Stanza 5–no, not much rueing given the heights, closeness, fullness, fruition, etc. The last two lines are adapted from a Willa Cather quote about the nature of greatness. Periodically was better than naught and worked in the long run.

Stanza 7–after reading this poem, you pretty much know who I am and was. As proximate as I got to various things discussed, maybe you did, too, vicariously, to me, and to a closer understanding of your quest, process and self. Your/The Essence of whoever/whatever.

1st published here Oct. 3, 2015

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Of Life as a Play: Performances and Roles

“All the world’s a stage,/And all the men and women merely players:/They have their exits and their entrances;/And one man in his time plays many parts.”–William Shakespeare, As You Like It

Shakespeare was right, of course, and many of his characters are very much conscious of the roles they themselves play whether it be Hamlet, Macbeth, Iago, Petruchio, or Prospero. It is no wonder that these and his other characters have remained thoroughly engaging, entertaining, and intriguing to millions globally through the centuries.

Regardless of how old one is once one enters adulthood, one can begin to realize the truth and relevance of Shakespeare`s statement and fundamental view about life as a play. We do, in fact, learn, play and acquire many roles through our childhoods and coming of age. We are constantly trying out new roles and giving performances in the many ways we act and behave.

As preschoolers, we are curious, trying out many things “to see how they work”, “to see what will happen, “to see how others will respond”. Thus, when children have crying fits, they may be attempting any or a combination of the above three goals. As they begin to develop a sense of self, they try out and play many roles and give many of their first performances. Identity, in even its earliest form of development and awareness, might be seen as an attempt of individuals to find themselves or the roles that want most to play or become.

In a family, each person finds his or her own roles and range of roles through a similar process of scenes and interactions. Of course, in school, that sense of individual development continues to grow through contact with classmates and friends. As we age, we continue to try out new roles via classroom and hallways interaction, on stages, in gyms, on fields, and through academic performance. In school, we find those subjects that interest us or don`t, and move steadily through a series of various roles and performances toward those we most want to be or aspire to–the roles and performances in adult life which will be us and provide meaning, purpose, completion, fulfillment, and satisfaction, comfort or peace.

Relationships work much the same way as we “try out” various scenes, performances, and other “actors” to see what works and what doesn`t, again acquiring a better sense, usually, of what we are still missing or still want, desire, and need by way of interactions with others. Thus, in this way, a marriage might be viewed as a play choice, or a divorce a rejection of roles and performances.

In the process, as we age, the roles and performances pile up. Some of the latter are good and “are more us”, and some are bad or inauthentic, not the roles we choose or want to play. Likewise, some roles and performances work and others don`t. In the end, it is up to us, to choose the roles we most want to be and the performances we most want to give and with or for whom–which audiences. To know those roles and performances is, in the end, to know ourselves and to become the people or identities we most wish to be in the play that is life. Beyond that step, of course, remains the final step of personal attitude toward, acceptance of, choice of, and quality of both roles and performances.

“Life`s like a play; it`s not the length but the excellence of the acting that matters.”–Seneca

…………………………….

Life has often been described as a game which suggests play and how people like to play, often pretending, assuming roles, and performing. Children do it, parents do it, friends and family do it, workers and bosses do it, entertainers do it, adults do it, and so forth. It’s just something that happens and something which people do to alter or reconfigure reality, and often to adjust to reality or control and manage it and others.

We are all playing roles in the course of our days. Husbands and wives do it, parents and children, brothers and sisters, in-laws, neighbors, teachers and students, bosses and workers. As well, when we go out into public, we assume the roles of customers and clients while others act in the role of staff and employees waiting on or serving us. If we go to a library, a librarian or librarian technician, or a volunteer wait on us. Different places, businesses, and organizations call for different roles, and behaviours appropriate to and expected in such situations and dealings.

Each of us takes on and plays roles–fathers, mothers, counsellors, advisors, and so on. Often the roles are acquired, such as the role of parent. Or the roles are necessary in order to make a living. Being a breadwinner is a common role for many people in order to support many households. Along the way, we take on many roles and may, in fact, be playing several in a given day–for example, parent, employee, customer, volunteer. Some roles we will, undoubtedly like or prefer more than others. And some roles we will not be comfortable with; they are less ‘us’ or not ‘us’.

In the course of the day, too, we are involved in many scenes. A daily log of activities might include episodes in which we wake up, eat, get ready for work, have lunch with co-workers, make supper for the family, and play a game with family members. Each day plays out much like a play or a documentary film. At various key moments in life, we will enact larger moments such as birth, graduation, learning to drive, getting our first job, getting married or divorced, or experiencing a serious illness.

As individuals, we obviously look for the roles which suit us, which we dream of playing, and we look forward to experiencing scenes such as holidays, parties, and loving and being loved. Each person’s life then is a play or series of scenes with dialogue and action. We do our best with the lives, situations, and parts we have been given or end up playing. That is where the importance of attitude (mentioned in the above meditation) comes in. We will have choices; it is, as Seneca says, the “excellence” or quality of the acting which matters most in the long run.

1st published here Sept. 16/2015

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Process, Context, and Choice

Our lives and any moments or situations you care to name are simply a combination and interaction of three things: process, context, and choice. Life and its many episodes consisting of seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, and months is nothing more than a process, a long series of never-ending moments that unfold in a person’s life. We talk of life process whether we are describing a man, a pelican, a tree, or the ocean. Process can be applied as a concept to many things: the history of a nation, a procedure such as a medical operation, or a stage in one’s life such as adolescence.

Context is simply the situation one finds oneself in whether one is a child in a day-care centre, a career woman encountering a “glass ceiling” in the work world, or a group of oppressed people within a repressive political regime. Context can be personal, social, political, religious, medical (as in the case of having an illness or condition), and so forth. Context is what we, as individuals, are presented with at any given moment, what we find ourselves in. Sometimes the context is familiar, as in waking up in the morning and making our breakfast. Sometimes it is unfamiliar or unstructured, as in when a concert-goer finds himself being pushed to the front of the stage by an enthusiastic crowd. All contexts frequently require response and choice, especially in the face of obstacles or crisis.

Confronted with the never-ending flow of our days and process, and the fact of similarly morphing contexts, we have but one way to respond—via choice. Some Existentialists suggested that the important thing in life was the fact of personal choice. Victor Frankl, the Austrian psychiatrist who wrote movingly of World War II concentration camp experiences, said much the same thing about those personal choices we will into being, especially in contexts of conflict and crisis.

To a large extent, our choices finally define us, whether they are ‘good’ or ‘bad.’ If you want to understand others, consider their choices and decisions. What do they choose to do? How have they chosen to live their lives? What other choices might they make or have made? And what, then, of our own choices? How and why do we choose as we do? What do those choices say about us, our values, and beliefs, and the unique individuals we all are? Understanding our choices can move us forward in our lives. As novelist George Eliot once said, “The strongest principle of growth lies in human choice.”

……………………………………………………………

Context is an element we often have to consider to avoid making snap judgements or judging on appearance alone. Choice is something people don’t realize they can have, even in very limited or limiting situations. Frankl writes of how choices of attitudes benefiting the inner lives of prisoners of concentration camps made it possible for prisoners to endure their suffering and to survive. They made positive choices rather than letting themselves fall easy victims to the awful and horrifying contexts they were in.

Our lives can be viewed as a long process made up of various smaller processes–events and episodes, some unfolding in minutes, others in hours or days, still others in months or years. We can all learn from process, especially once we accept it is the way life unfolds, not just for humans, but animals, plants, societies, nations, and history. If life is basically a common process of lifelong learning, one has to assume that growth can be a real possibility, something that can inform and direct our lives forward, step by step.

Once you become aware that choices matter and that you can choose much of how you live or view your life, then the possibility of what Maslow called self-actualization becomes a real possibility. Put another way, you can make or create your life. Attitude is a key factor in whatever process or context you may find yourself. In that sense, indeed, whether you view the proverbial glass as half-full or half-empty will affect how you manage or deal with problems, crises, and change. As I stated in an earlier selection “The Living Poem”, “you make it up.” In Hamlet’s words, “there is nothing good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” (There is something implicit in his comment also about the role of imagination in both thinking and attitude.)

(1st published here Sept. 2/2012)

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Presence and Non-presence

Simply put, someone or something either is or isn’t. He, she, or it exists and has being or doesn’t. You’ll recall that life starts and ends that way in the form of presence or non-presence. In school, students were either present or absent (that is, not-present). A feeling went with that. One either felt like one was there (in class) or wasn’t (as we or someone else noted an empty desk). In some cases, we were the ones who were not present–at home with the mumps, skipping class, and so forth.

But with the experience of being absent from the group at school came another impression and that was that presence was a subjective state and that one could still experience presence and the presence of absent others and other situations even when in a changed scene or setting. Presence was potentially something one felt, imagined, and experienced all on one’s own.

As well, presence was not just something experienced in relation to environments. One could be thought of as a presence within a family, experiencing the presence of parents and siblings. Or one was aware of the presence of animals via owning a pet or visiting a zoo. Perhaps one experienced the presence of nature, as in the morning when stepping out into the freshness of morning air or when travelling to a memorable place such as the mountains or seaside. Poet William Blake said this best, perhaps: “To see a world in a grain of sand,/ And a heaven in a wild flower,/ Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,/ And eternity in an hour.” To know presence, then, is to connect and possibly transcend.

Most of us know, though, that presence is often or mostly transitory and ephemeral. And it is dependent ultimately on the presence of whichever people you choose to consider, including yourself. One day someone is there, another he or she is not, and connections and entire worlds are suddenly, conspicuously absent, vanished, or blotted out by absence, death or memory losses. There is great value, meaning, and purpose in the simple fact of lived, shared, and experienced presence, a fact often only fully known, understood, missed, and appreciated belatedly. As Joni Mitchell once put it, “you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.”

……………………………………………………………………………………………..

No connection is possible without others, without presence. Wherever each of us is, our presence is capable of being experienced by others.

But do e-mails, text messages and social media network sites do justice to presence? (For one thing, they significantly omit the physical human voice which is our main, unique, expressive, identifying self.) Are they as good, strong, or personal as a phone call or a Skype communication (the latter with the extra advantage of mediated visual presence)? When it comes down to it, would you rather talk to someone via mediated electronic forms or spend time face-to-face with the presence of the same live in-person human being? What does live in-person presence give us that other mediated communications can’t?

(1st published Aug. 30/2015)

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The Ascension

(prose poem version)

It was time now for love’s new song. His salvation lay far beyond her imagined graces. It was time now to give thanks, to burn all mementos. He would sing of her praises beyond their conclusion. It was time at last for a song beyond seasons. A song beyond the knives and ashes of particular loves. A song beyond death, unwitholding and dazzling in its hopeful affects. In solitude once more, they withstand the changes in tides and reason, begin again the pas de deux of dream and spirit, resplendent like the dancing waves, strength unto strength. May this, their lost joy illumine forever some blessed isle or quiet hill. The spirit of forgotten seeds shall whisper now. Hear it speaking to the many–”Cast aside thy lowliness and be magnificent once more. Though their shadows be gone, their vision remains like remembered touch or stained glass moment. Life, breath and firmament shall make anew the greenness that hath faded from their fields. Gather unto thee another and sing glad the praises of the love-fallen saints. Come now to know this way, this bliss, this peace, this sacrifice, this touch, this wonder, this undying faith, this goodness, this heart and exaltation, this henceforth and forevermore, this beauty and its beholding, this spring promise and new awakening, this imagination and most humble blessing, this beatitude and prayer, this grace and glory, as it was in the beginning, in this world without end…”

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Nordicity: A Nordic Index

(after Glenn Gould’s The Idea of North)
dedicated to Dean McKenzie

(We have administered these vast territories of North in an almost continuing state of mind…)

High latitude
vast flatness of poles
wind a whitewash
breathing lungs
stone-cold

(I have an enormous compulsion to look upon the polar seas and I find that this is growing apace each year, so that I really want to get it out of my system somehow…)

Cold enlarges consciousness
an inner feeling: hinterlands
We are stirred & sharpened
made precise, altered–
a mental nordicity

(The North is almost everything beyond the comfortable and familiar, everything frozen and dark, treeless and windswept…)

Arctic night
blizzard bone
drift of pelt & parka
polar values
break the ice in rime
evoke an introversion
like isotherms

(When men live in the North their values change…)

permafrost/permavision
cold Judas chill
solitude
& idea-flakes

(They live a lifetime and die when they emerge. They become citizens of a different country–that tapestry of tundra and taiga…)

blue-planed spirit
frozen subsoil
keen surface
cutting/nipping
uninhabited
vanishing point

(There was something spiritual about it, elements of magic having to do with the magnetic pole…)

brush-blade pointillism
breath & breathe
vision elemental
inland seas
frozen sonata

(Something really does happen to people up here…)

ice age cold snap
cold storage
icefields
pro-found snow-bound

(It cares so little and sort of diminished you…)

pack-ice growlers
overhang design
spirit gathers hoarfrost
terminal moraine

(It looks so odd and cold you wouldn’t want to live there…)

chilblain shiver
raw polar night
boreal abstract
a treeline sensibility
gather & evoke
this nordic index.

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