Normally I would post photos on my photo blog. But I need to do some work on the site, and these  were just a quick bit of snapping as allowed by the dog. But if you like these pictures, you might like some of the others than I have posted over there. The link goes specifically to my nature photos. Enjoy!

The post A Bit of Beauty first appeared on thrumyeyes.

The post Hydra first appeared on thrumyeyes.

Windows are the eyes of the soul.

Think about it. We can see into the soul through the eyes. Similarly, the soul can see out, again through the eyes. That is exactly how a window works. This has symbolic significance, but can also be translated directly into practical example. Since today I am being driven by the letter W in my Z to A challenge, I am choosing to show an appreciation for windows and the roles they play in our lives. My creativity takes many forms other than writing, so today’s post has a more visual bent. Enjoy!

Windows allow us to appreciate the world while at the same time protecting us from the potential dangers. They come in all shapes and sizes. Through them we can share beautiful moments, or maybe learn a little history. They can allow us to portray our curiosity or longings, while at the same time keeping us in our safe zones. They can help lighten the dark; and provide comfort when needed. They are essentially a gateway to the land of What-if, and sometimes we may even be able to pass through them to visit in person. Many of us take such things for granted, so today I ask those who visit to step back and appreciate something that is both simple and profound. This is how we truly learn what life has to offer!

All these photos are mine. If you enjoy them, and would like to see more, please visit my photo part of my website. My choices for camera subjects are as varied as my writing!

The post Windows (an ode) first appeared on thrumyeyes.

Why is it frequently the same people having those conflicting thoughts?

Why do (again often the same) people find blaming lack of prayer in schools is a valid explanation, but lack of societal responsibility is not?

Why do people scream that their rights are being violated because someone wants to ensure a dangerous tool only gets in the hands of those who will use it responsibly, yet our right to vote … incidentally the whole reason the constitution was written in the first place … gets violated all the time with out anyone flinching?

Why do I need to REGISTER to actually use my primary right of voting, yet it is perfectly reasonable to not have to register to have use of a device that kills?

Why is it ok to be a hateful bastard when MY religion says it is, but if YOUR religion says so you are terrorists?

Why is it ok to use woman’s breasts to SELL things, but it s not ok to use them to … say … feed a baby (the reason they exist in the first place)?

Why is it so acceptable to pick and choose which aspects of the bible, koran, constitution, etc we choose to follow?

Who is it we fear so much that we need to constantly defend ourselves? And if it is our own government, how can we call ourselves patriotic if we want to take down our government?

Why don’t people use their own heads, and actually THINK about what they are saying, instead of allowing those with personal agenda’s and LOTS of money TELL us how to think?

Why do we think new laws will fix anything, when the only people who OBEY the laws are the ones who don’t need them? Why do we find it reasonable that the only answer to violence is more violence?

Why is it US and THEM?

Seriously. Why?

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The post I have a few questions … first appeared on thrumyeyes.

This was Bob Tilley.

Bob was maybe the best teacher I ever had, yet ironically I never sat in one of his classrooms. I can without any doubt say that I would not be the man I am if not for the experiences I shared with him. Among many other things, I learned self-confidence, fortitude, and the value of a dry sense of humor. I also learned the art of patience … and when to leave patience behind.

Whenever things get tough for me, I find myself thinking “It’s just over the next ridge,” or “It’s just around the next bend.” I will even say this to others who may be struggling, usually resulting in an odd look. He was a man who knew how to bring out our best efforts, often with nothing more than a bit of humor. But if a stern lesson was required, he knew how to give it as well.

I am a very now oriented person, so don’t really have many memories of my youth that really stand out. Yet the ones that do; the ones that are permanently engraved, almost all revolve around the times I spent with him: memories of tear bringing laughter; memories of limit pushing effort; memories of peaceful tranquility … in short memories of living life to the fullest.

Bob was, and frankly still is, a force of nature. He touched the lives of so many people, and I challenge any one of them to prove that they are not a better person for it. He will live on in many a memory, even though his next adventure is now beyond our reach. I envision him stepping into a well packed ethereal canoe, guided by Al Cornelius, and together they paddle around the next bend, to destinations unknown. Thank you Bob Tilley, for being the man you were and for helping me be the man I am. Your legacy will live on!

The post Just over the next ridge first appeared on thrumyeyes.

As I sip my mocha … hot chocolate and coffee mixed, I am talking to my neighbor about stealing pens, while thinking about the reason there is no whip cream in my coffee is the kitchen staff keeps doing whippets. Yep, that is how my mind is working lately. Meanwhile in the back my anger is stirring over the thoughts that carried me in the walk over, thoughts about the selfishness of those in power, and how juvenile they actually are. Thoughts about greed and logic and the drive of so many to remove humanity from humans. Thoughts on what I can do and doubts that I can do anything. Thoughts, thoughts, and more thoughts.

I am having a foodgasm right now. Dream Gyrl taught me this. I never really learned to appreciate flavors until she showed me her shear pleasure in eating. I tried it out, and combining the focus and the random access to food … food has a whole new meaning to me now. She hooked me on caffeine too come to think of it.

I used to have the delusion (misconception?) that I sought happiness. It is becoming more and more evident that is the wrong goal … at least for me. We are all a soup of chemicals, which, among other things, come out in the form of emotions. They are necessary components of who we are, no more ignorable that an organ or a limb. Yet so many of us fear them or try to hide them. Or we go to the other extreme and let them control us. It is how we deal with this chemical cocktail that ultimately determines the quality (and maybe even purpose) of our lives. This is the realization I came to as I experimented with external chemicals; playing the game that I have denied myself; riding the wave of the rebel; fighting the “man” in spirit. As I made the choice that day to live or die, I realized what I truly am seeking. Happiness plays a role … yes, but it is just a part of the puzzle … not the goal in itself. I honestly believe that because so many of us seek this to the extreme, we throw the scales of humanity off balance, which ultimately creates our current teetering on the edge.

My realization is hard to put into words, which to me adds to the truth of it. The more profound the truth, the less capable words are to describe it.

I am stuck by one major limitation (though for this flawed human limitations abound). I am trying to confine the infinite in a box … which simply can’t be done. I am trying to squish four plus dimensions into three, which is no different then trying to draw a cube on a piece of paper. Close, but limited by the perceptions and imagination of the perceiver. But maybe I can portray a glimmer, enough to spark an idea; ignite a flame. We shall see.

I am interrupted by the law of three. A segue, yet also intimately related to the previous thought. But both will pause for the side salad before me.

Salad for the body done, back to the ephemeral salad. Human perception and thought is binary, a function of our design? Or a choice we make? We understand best with opposites. Single poles confuse us, leave us searching for more. Trinary and above, we break it down to binary, and thus conflict often begins. This applies to all interactions with our own reality, but gets more complicated the more complicated the other side is. In planetary physics, gravitational interactions between TWO objects are pretty easy to predict. Add a third and BAM! The fun starts. Incidentally, gravity is one of those uni-polar ideas that confounds us. Another prime example: human relations. One to one, we actually do pretty well. Things only get complicated when the plus one comes in … the law of threes.

Back to pre-salad thoughts. Are they still bouncing around? Find the middle ground between opposites, we achieve balance. Balance feels good, all is as it should be. Stability on the fulcrum. But that is just with the two … what about other sets of two? Or add the law of three. Two in balance, three knocks the balance off, so we need to find four to restore the balance. And on around the circle. Add a third dimension. Add a fourth. Keep adding. A complicated reality with the balance constantly shifting, keeping our sense of rightness(?) off. So we seek something to bring it back. How off is it? The choices we make will show that. But if we choose too far in the “wrong” direction, the balance is still off, just in another way.

Life is the continuous struggle to regain balance.

Happiness is just one of the poles. Necessary, but not the end in itself, because too much focus on happiness actually keeps the balance off. THIS is my realization. This is my drive now. I don’t seek happiness. I seek balance.

I think I have arrived where I need to be for the moment. The thoughts still whirl, but right now they are whirling coherently, electrons around a nucleus. Where will this take me? Only time will tell. And since time is basically a function of choice and perception, this will take me everywhere, nowhere, wherever I WANT it to. This is what I seek in life. And for THIS moment at least, I have found it.

The post What stealing pens while eating a salad taught me … first appeared on thrumyeyes.

The horror of the day is the burning alive of a soldier by the demons of the year. I know this sentence is ripe with sarcasm and seemingly a little lacking in compassion, but that is by intent. I have said it before, and I am saying it again. Terrorism is NOT caused by “terrorists”, though they might be the initial trigger. It is caused by our own reaction to what they do, especially in this day and age of instant information sharing. ISIS is a band of cowards with big sticks, and the main reason they carry such weight in the world is plain and simply because we LET them. They are nothing more than rabid animals. I am not saying that they are not dangerous. Nor am I am saying that they are not to be feared. But by having the news of their latest exploit repeated every five minutes; by sharing and re-sharing the video of them in action; by responding with any number of negative emotions … WE are the ones actually spreading their “message”. A rabid animal kills someone, it was most likely a painful death. We mourn the death, and remove the animal. We don’t post it all over the internet and make it huge news.

Why should we treat these other rabid animals any differently?

The military man died a very horrible death. Yes. He was also a military man. War means death. Quite often painfully and horribly. That is what anyone who joins the military is ultimately signing up for. The job description includes being willing to die for your country … which most likely will be a very unpleasant experience. Even his manner of death was not completely unheard of considering he was a pilot. Planes crash. Planes burn. He could have died that way under other circumstances. So frankly I find no more horror in it than ANY death from war.

I say again, the people of ISIS are basically nothing more than cowards. They hide behind masks, hide behind weapons, hide behind their own version of god, and feel strong because they can easily slaughter a restrained, severely outnumbered man who basically cannot defend himself.

And we give them the notoriety they crave simply because we actually WATCH the video they made of it.

I firmly believe the best way to combat the psychology of terrorism is to basically IGNORE it. I am not saying ignore the incident and the perpetrators. Take the rabid animals out. But ignore their intent, which is to become a threat to the world by INTENTIONALLY being rabid. They are like spoiled children throwing a tantrum. You pay attention to them, and they will just keep acting up. Ignore them, and then when they realize that they aren’t going to get anywhere, teach them the lesson they need.

If the voices of hatred can so strongly alter the current of world action, causing fear and anger and return hatred … imagine the power of voices that speak with compassion instead. Why are we so reluctant to hear THOSE words; so reluctant to let them spread HEALING instead of hatred and fear? Maybe because they are too often lone voices, voices that may speak wisdom but don’t have the strength of numbers. But on February 20th, a thousand such voices are prepared to share their words of compassion; their words of sharing, love and goodness; all at the same time. The messages will each be unique in form, but ultimately with the same intent. Their ARE alternatives to hatred and fear. And frankly they really have much more power … if we only have the courage to USE them. One voice can reach tens, hundreds, thousands … there is no limit really in this day and age. Fear and hatred only have as much power as we give it. Imagine a thousand voices sharing the power of LOVE.

Do you have the courage to hear those voices?

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The post The voice(s) of compassion – #1000Speak first appeared on thrumyeyes.

Live a good life or not (what defines good anyway?); live the BEST life we are capable of living whether by our own choice or not … that is really all we can hope to achieve. So the question really becomes, “Which choices will allow me to be the best me I can be?” It is truly ironic how difficult many of us find such decisions; how many of us will then question if we have made the right choices or not. Some of us question so much that we practically paralyze ourselves, or worse yet abdicate our own right to choose and simply let others decide for us. That way is ultimately self-destructive, for we will not create the life WE want, but end up letting others define us.

Much of my creativity stems directly from these questions. Sometimes I am content with my own answers, sometimes I am not, and try to choose again. But either way, I have lived my life refusing to let others make those choices for me, which has often been a rough road. This is actually a family trait.

That segue was a hard one, but I finally arrived at it. For the real reason I am babbling here is to brag about and promote my sister, who has often struggled with her own path in similar ways. She has finally come to a choice not to give in to her inner demons, not to let self-doubt and lack of faith in her own choices stop her from recognizing the her own power, as a mom, as an academic, as a theater professional, and as a writer and creator. Today she has officially PUBLISHED a novel (even if it is not the first she has WRITTEN). It is a book that delves into the very questions I raised here, opening up avenues of thought that many may never have explored. Beyond that, it is simple entertaining and a good read. So if you are looking for a great book to read, or a great gift to share (or better yet both), buy a copy or three today! Get it at Amazon (available for Kindle too). Get it at Barnes and Noble. Get it at Kobo. Or better yet encourage your favorite book store or library to stock it. Introducing …

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The post The P.O.W.ER of the mind first appeared on thrumyeyes.

‘Twas the night after Thanksgiving, when all through the land,
Rabid creatures were stirring, the time for shopping was at hand;
The lines began building outside the stores,
In hopes that shoppers would be first through the doors;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While parents began proving they were wrong in their heads,
And Mama in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled in to put up with this crap-
When there at the door there arose such a clatter,
The crowd sprang forward, it’s a wonder it didn’t shatter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore my new jacket in the mad dash.
The street lights on the breast of the dirty brown snow,
Gave the lustre of greed to the people below;
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a growling daddy, in full combat gear,
And a little old lady, so vicious and quick,
I knew in a moment it was going to get sick.
More rapid than eagles the shoppers they came,
And they whistled, and shouted, I was called a bad name:
“Now! !@#$, now! !@#$, now! Out of my way you Vixen,
“On! !@#$, on! !@#$, on! Trips ’em and kicks ’em;
“To the front of the line! Let’s invade the mall!
“Now cash away! cash away! cash away all!”
As dry leaves before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the check out the cursers they flew,
With the hands full of stuff – and many thingies too:
And then in a twinkling, I did see the proof
With my prancing and pawing I was a real goof.
As I cleared my head, and was turning around,
Down the hordes continuously came with a bound:
We had dressed a nice turkey, from its head to its foot,
And fully devoured it like fresh taken loot;
It truly dawned on me as I looked back,
That of true understanding we have lost the knack:
My eyes – how they teared! my dimples not so merry,
How the real meaning did we so bury?
We were supposed to be thankful for what we already know,
Yet here we were fighting for more cash to blow;
Snarling and snapping, baring our teeth,
The human soul deserves a mourning wreath.
The holiday is much more than just stuffing our belly
And watching various things on the old telly:
The crowd, mostly chubby and plump, should be ashamed of itself,
And I felt like crying when I saw in them myself;
A opening of my eye and a shake of my head
Soon gave me to know we had something to dread.
If we did not change this attitude that does not work,
And stop each one of us, acting like a jerk.
Be thankful for what we have, stop seeking more,
Why do we act like maniacs at the silly store?
Wealth is not in having all sorts of things and stuff,
It’s about accepting that we really HAVE enough.
Remember what’s important, like loving one another,
And treating others as if a sister or a brother.
Before our true priorities slide out of sight,
Remember that Black is the color of night.

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The post An ode to Black Friday first appeared on thrumyeyes.

I am definitely guilty of that.

The past is past. Even if there were moments that we wish we could live over, it is NOT possible. I am not even talking scientifically speaking. If it WERE possible to travel back time, and relive a moment, it would still be our future … CHANGED … self reliving the moment. Either that or locking ourselves into one moment … effectively STOPPING time. So we either live forward, or stop time entirely. Take the metaphysics out and it is simply this … we cannot go back. The future holds similar problems. For no matter how much we might want things to be a certain way, or even plan for it, we will never truly know what future moments hold until we actually experience those moments. And since those moments are created by what is happening in THIS moment, the simple act of visiting the future could change how that future plays out.

If the past paragraph required a bit too much thought, let me simplify with something I say often … the only moment that we TRULY live … the only moment that we can have any true influence over … is NOW. Yet as much as I say this, even BELIEVE it, I all to often fail to LIVE that way. Looking back, my new view of my past is that those moments that I called adventures were just the periods of my life when I actually lived IN the moment, and those moments I call stagnation were the periods I forgot to; those periods where I lost myself in time.

Sadly, I seem to get lost in time more often as I experience more of life.

This is ultimately what the newest part of my adventure, the one that starts in three weeks, is about. I seek to strip away the layers of experience and “knowledge” that have sullied my naiveté. I seek to scrape off the stigma of a life bombarded with the spiritual pollution that modern society is choking the air with, and return myself to the blank slate of a new-born child. And once I find that deeply buried child, I seek to start a fresh work of art, one that I can be proud of; one that maybe will shine for others as well. It is not just my intent to challenge myself. It is not just my intent to have a unique experience that many cannot even imagine. It is my intent to shed the me that has lost its way, and replace it with a me of wonder, similar to the one that arrived on this plane once before. I am no longer compatible with humanity, and I keep blaming it on humanity. Since I seem to have no effect on a world I have lost respect for, maybe that world is not really the problem. Maybe I need to take off the dirty filter that encases me so I can see the world fresh again. THAT is ultimately what I seek.

As a result of this part of my journey, instead of spreading myself out in pieces through the several thousand blogs and other means of expression I seem to have gathered, I am going to focus on the journal of my rebirth … A Tail of a Trail. This means that activity on this (and my other blogs) will slow to a near standstill for the next 6+ months. For those who actually enjoy my wordplay, or have any interest in the newest part of MY adventure, you can see the blog below, or better yet feel free to follow it directly. For those who are not interested, I look forward to introducing the new me to you come next fall. In the mean time, I hope your adventure remains interesting as well!

The post A fresh canvas first appeared on thrumyeyes.