on counter, flowers

In the room someone is sleeping.

It is prelude sleep.

Husband arrives.

Doesn't want her to suffer.

in prison we talk of this

What are we doing here?

Each one of us -- what are we doing here?

All of us as a whole, what are we doing here?

Not what brought us here, or brings us here, not the causes or conditions of our arrival -- but the actual and decipherable, visible and calculable, ordinary and contemplative saying of the results of our mulling of the question, what are we doing here?

What am I, what are you, what are we, doing here?

As with all depths and dark places, we wander into and wander through this question -- as the question of this, arriving at us, now and now always and only now.

Here. This. Now.

What?

at nursing home we talk of this

Spring
     By Jack Gilbert

I call it exile, or being relegated

I call it the provinces.

And all the time it is my heart.

My imperfect heart which prefers

this distance from people. Prefers

the half-meetings which cannot lead

to intimacy. Provisional friendships

that are interrupted near the beginning.

A pleasure in not communicating.

And inside, no despair or longing.

A taste for solitude. The knowledge

that love preserves freedom in always

failing. An exile by nature. Where,

indeed, would I ever be a citizen?

do we

I hear the chaplain at the prison say to the new correction officer recruits moving from outer lobby to hallway and security center to pick up their radios and other equipment, “be safe, be alert, and be servants.”

Inside, I meet with three inmates and program coordinator for the duration of the morning talking about the next phase of their Code of the Warrior groups they’ve been holding over the past year.

The antidote to needless violence is an awakened sense of honor, duty, and responsible relationality.

There’s a lot to think about.

Grossman illuminates some of the methods that have been adopted over the years to help troops achieve emotional distance from their enemies. Troops have been drilled to fire on human-shaped targets but not to think about the act of killing itself. The focus has been placed on the mechanics of aiming and firing and responding quickly to changing scenarios. Troops have been taught to “neutralize targets” as efficiently as possible and the word “kill” has been carefully avoided. 

Livingstone Smith points out that modern civilian society seems to support this approach and itself fails to confront the reality that waging war involves authorizing the intentional killing of other human beings:

[W]e (contemporary Americans) go to great lengths to avoid acknowledging the simple and obvious truth that war is all about killing people. Read the newspapers and listen to the speeches of our politicians. Young men and women are called to “serve their country” by going to war. When they’re killed, we’re told that they “gave their life for their country” (a foolish idea: soldiers’ lives are taken, not given). But how often do you hear young people asked to go to war to kill people for their country?15

In other words, we persuade people to kill on our behalf by describing the actions of war, where possible, in terms that sound wholesome, moral, and inspiring; and where this is not possible we use neutral objectifying terms that cloak the emotional impact of these actions. A positive impact of this is to emphasize the warrior virtues, such as loyalty, discipline, honor, courage, and sacrifice (which are all very real and necessary), yet a more unfortunate consequence is that this language downplays the negative effects of war on those who kill. It is a cruel bait-and-switch, made worse by the lack of sustained support for veterans who are living with those effects. As novelist C.S. Harris laments: “We don’t take good care of the men we ask to risk their lives and health for us, do we? We use them, and then when they’re no longer of value, we toss them away.”16 

(--from, “Dehumanizing the Enemy: The Intersection of Neuroethics and Military Ethics”  By Shannon E. French and Anthony I. Jack)

I wondered aloud whether the responses to the question asked to everyone associated with the prison, “What are we doing here?” would surprise us. Whether inmates, case workers, correction officers, teachers, administration, volunteers -- what would the various responses be?

Perhaps it would be said: “We’re here to create community. To ensure the health and well-being of each of us. To help one another to see more clearly, with greater light and purpose and compassion. We are here for one another -- for the good of each and all.”

the loneliness of someone who feels there's something to teach

I read about a man who killed himself near a river in Wyoming.

He was in pain, homeless, and interested in spirituality.

It is hard when someone believes something. Anything.

You start thinking there's things you gotta do. Or don't do.

I'm sad he felt there was no other way out.

I’d have preferred he'd found no-other way through.

There were coordinates sent for someone to find his body and his truck.

mashugana

Storm, storm, storm.

Fire, fire, fire.

WASHINGTON — Climate change denials amid catastrophic hurricanes are a reminder that humans are not a particularly smart species, Pope Francis said Sunday while flying over areas in the Caribbean decimated by Hurricane Irma. 

“Man is stupid,” he said, referencing a passage in the Old Testament, according to the The New York Times and The Associated Press. “When you don’t want to see, you don’t see.” 

A correspondent for Crux Now had a slightly different translation of the pontiff’s comments: “Man is a stupid and hard-headed being who doesn’t see.” 

The pope — who has sparred with President Donald Trump on several issues, including climate change — also urged the climate skeptics of the world to consult with a scientist. 

“Those who deny climate change need to go to scientists and ask them,” Francis said, according to Crux. He said the scientific community has been “clear and precise” in linking human activities to the ongoing crisis and that “each [person] has a moral responsibility, bigger or smaller.” Climate change is a “serious matter over which we cannot make jokes,” he said. 

(--from huffington post, 11sept2017).  

Drought, drought, drought.

Melt, melt, melt.

[Voice over]: Did you hear the one about the cab driver in mid-town Manhattan who picked up a fare who looked like Donald Trump on 5th avenue? (Heh heh.) Turns out it wasn't Trump. Anyway, the cabbie took him to Sardi's and dropped him off at 10:45 pm. The guy gets out of the cab, turns to the cabbie, and says: 

"Do I look like a fool? I know you think I look like Trump. You better not make any jokes about me. I’ll sue, I swear.”

Stupid, huh? 

Whattya gonna do? It's a crazy world! The cabbie went back to Qatar the next week. 

He’d had enough with the American mashugana. 

Desert, desert, desert! 

a conception of circumstance

Prayer is the practice of presence.

If you wish to include the notion of God in this descriptive, do so.

Still, practicing presence is prayer. No object, no subject, mere presence adding nothing.

To become a person of prayer enter the place of presence, between us, with open heart, open mind.

With nothing other than this realization.

9/11

it’s time

(shudder)

16 years later

it’s time

(re-membering)

standing in rain

hurricanes come

and go

as we

come and go

with no

fanfare

or

any fear

we’ll explode

destruction

on everything

silly tv people

standing in rain

noses dripping

back to you

in studio