Tuesday, January 31, 2006

HE & SHE: The Power & the Patina

Just a thought on a slip of paper I'd jotted down a while back and am finally committing to world wide consideration:

The United States: nation offering merely a patina of social services on top of a heaping PLATTER of RED MEAT -- insider DEALS for PROFIT, POWER and IMPERIALIST, MILITARY MADNESS.

And another thought, until now unrelated, which comes to mind as I type the above: I recently had lunch with an old friend, and as usual, we got to talking about women and their current roles in our lives (women have so many more roles in a man's life than do all of his male friends, acquaintances, co-workers and strangers combined). And it came to me that, as a single guy, sort of eligible but not really looking, really sticking pretty well to my new "monk mode," that I had a new criteria to add to my list of things I'd look for in an SO, significant other, partner, kindred spirit... Not only does she need to have (preferably - nothing is absolute) never been married and never seriously wanted children. Not only does she need to be liberal and distinctly unconventional in a stylishly bohemian sort of way. Not only does she need to be rather fit, outdoorsy, and worldly. Not only does she need to be not only attractive AND alluring - feminine AND confident. She need to not be a capitalist. I could probably "date" a capitalist, but beyond that, I'm just not sure I could really "be with" an honest to Brand Name American capitalist.

Monday, January 30, 2006

Thoreau on Oprah

Kind of wonder, in this Age of Dr. Phil, what we might think of a old-fashioned guy like Henry David Thoreau if he were to be a guest on Oprah. She'd probably love to get him on the show, just to see if she could get him to grin from behind that oh so 19th century looking beard of his, with a glint in his seemingly eternally melancholy eyes, a crinkle in his crow's feet, sitting stiffly, then leaning in just a bit to appreciate a kudo or point Ms. O was making - was that in his honor? Or at his expense?

I used to think I'd graduate to not only being a writer (any dabbler can be a "writer") but to being an actual AUTHOR, an author indeed of such books as Oprah would take a keen interest and hungrily wish to promote and recommend to her flock of MILLIONS, steering the country ever so deftly toward little changes, at least considering some soul shreds left in this country, that some of us want to be kind and otherwise virtuous and do the right thing.

There'd be Henry, sitting there in his dusty coat, rather sheepish, reluctant, even reticent, but then we think of him as shy. Maybe, like Phil, he'd graduate from the fringes and HAVE HIS OWN SHOW.

Friday, January 27, 2006

Getting Back to Blogging

Taking their time, not the time of others, even monks dabble in writing things down, deep things and lofty things they feel floundering and flourishing in the seemingly private parade of their passions.

Monks, even a secular monk like me, to some, might seem like private people. But there is a difference between private and non-aggressive. Americans often mistake the two. They think that if you know what you're talking about - and even if you don't - you just go on telling it your way, to your friends, to your co-workers, to everybody watching TV if you can. Give it to 'em straight. Tell 'em how it is.

Meanwhile, the monk way seems so old-fashioned, more quietly and patiently composing one's thoughts, sometimes even before blurting them out. What a concept.

Some of you who have followed my travails here (and in life) know that I let the blog ball drop back in late October. I didn't keep up what had become my usual, downright faithful five posts a week, Monday through Friday. Now, the days are getting longer. The sunlight is getting into my fingertips, and I'm feeling the urge again. And so I am going back through notes and the calendar, and I'll get to those days, piecemeal, and most of the days in the weeks to come, I have a feeling.

It is like exercise for the shut ins, the house bound, those with cabin fever, those dejected, those lazy slobs after the holidays, packing the pounds, those with serious depression, even merely the blues. Exercise that gets the heart-rate up charges the endorphins, and it's gold for just about anybody's bloodstream. No wonder exercise, simple exertion in most any form, can be such a body builder and mood booster, too.

Writing is to the mind what swimming or cycling cutting firewood or running or repairing things or even doing the laundry is to the body. The body and the mind are in this together, and they - meaning IT, the human person, body and mind - need excercise. Writing is an excellent form of exercise because, like calethenics and sports, it organizes the endeavor and lines up what needs to be done - moving about and thinking near and far.

Monday, January 02, 2006

I'll be BACK

Yes, I live, I breathe, I just don't/haven't typed much during a month long sabbatical.

Look here soon for fill in posts and up dates with VIEWS you can USE.