Coming Home

I’ve come back to my hometown for Christmas in my 63rd year.

The stereo is playing Bing Crosby; nostalgia is sought for as some kind of assurance that everything will return the past for a short while, if only in the way we feel.

Some would quickly return to the safety of the days evoked by the music, feeling that there must be some refuge from the excruciating pain of the present and the inevitable horror waiting them in the future. Still, death, ‘the king of terrors’, waits patiently. We feel it in our bones, and see it in the faces around us framed with gray hair, wrinkles, pain relying on a timetable to take the daily, ever growing, allotment of pills.

The underlying unspoken thought is of who will be here next year for Christmas and who will be missing. It is a cultural imperative to be filled with angst over this. The thought of death in our culture is couched in language designed to fill us with fear.

As far as I can tell the reasons for fear resides in the way in which we understand ourselves as persons. I have the feeling, in fact I’m fairly convinced, this fear is the result of the misunderstanding of the nature of the human being and that the fear is unnecessary because it is based on a misunderstanding concerning what and who they are.

I’m sitting in PDX with 4 hours to wait, my mother born in 1907 on this date. I’m left to figure out what it means and it is difficult because the explanations handed down to me have not made any sense.

I have begun the 63rd year of my life in a different place than I began my first and subsequent 62 years. Every other year began and ended in the same place; Cayuga County New York. This year I am in Oregon waiting in Portland for flights to Atlanta, Cincinnati, and finally Syracuse. I’m returning to New York for the holidays. I no longer think of it as home.

______________________________________________________



Teenagers in the nearly empty terminal with time on their hands and energy to release ‘moon walk’ back and forth on the ‘people mover’. I watch from the perimeter wondering what I will find when I get to my destination.

What does it mean to be going home? What does home mean? Who are you? What am I? What does all this living business mean? These are the questions on my mind tonight as I watch people with colored lights in their eyes and in their memories passing me. I have an answer that that satisfies me, or perhaps I have simply found another way to approach the questions. Answers, I have found, continue to change.

Ordinarily people don’t ask these questions, they accept the answers and explanations given them because it provides an entire scenario ready to be believed. They have built a world from it.
_______________________________________________________


In Cincinnati two young couples stand in the main aisle directly in front of me. A long haired boy and girl and a boy in camouflage with a crew cut, his face adorned with a forced smile in an attempt to disguise his emotions. His arm is around a young heavyset girl as photographs are taken with cell phone cameras. None of the group appears old enough to buy a beer. The heavyset girl is unable to hide her sorrow and is finally overtaken by tears throwing her arms around the camouflaged boy while the other two continue to take pictures. When it’s time to board three leave together, the fourth, in camouflage, stays behind.

The boy in camouflage boards the same plane I do for Syracuse. As he passes my seat I see four letters on a strip over his pocket. They spell ‘Fink’. It is obvious to me he is going far away from home for Christmas. I can only imagine how he feels. I wonder if he knows he’s being used and that his life has only a very narrowly defined value in the minds and contexts of those who are sending him away from home for Christmas.

A fortyish woman in jeans, pretty but tired, with three teenagers in tow explains to them that they will be able to get on the plane as she hands each a snack and a ticket. They appear weary too, but not as weary as their mother.

_____________________________________________________

In New York my son meets me. He loves me and I see it in his eyes and feel it in my heart. My grandchildren hug me at my other son’s house. I marvel at how well they have been raised and how they are growing.

My sister’s family has partially arrived. Those from Australia on an around the world trip get here first. Her eldest daughter with her boyfriend have been stuck almost a week in Paris due to snow in Philadelphia. They arrive minus three pieces of luggage that are still in Luxembourg.

My brother’s family is continuing to arrive from Florida, Georgia, California, Maryland and New York. It appears that the offspring of my mother and father have produced 50 or so additional offspring and connecting nodes. Some I have never seen before. This is the way it is supposed to be; we expand, multiply and become diverse; strengthening the human race by diversity. In a hundred years we will have expanded even more having spent our strength and become memories to be recalled in conversations over photographs on Christmas Eve.



No one wants to talk about death even though it is in everyone’s thoughts as we look at those around us with wrinkles and pain who have become mere shadows of the images in our minds from years gone by. Most are waiting for Jesus to come and take them home. I suppose I am too if I can be allowed to understand it in my own way.

For better or for worse we are a religious family. Most if not all have broken the restraints of the faith handed to them by their parents in order to forge a belief that makes sense to them. All our lives have changed and are changing. Thank God for that.

A man can only be home when he is at peace with himself. I am finally home despite the distance from the place of my birth.

My Journey: part 1

(Click on highlighted texts)




More and more 'pie in the sky bye and bye' has fewer and fewer charms for me when compared to the way the sun lights the grasses at the end of the day and how the breeze makes the grasses sway. I saw the rich colors out the window and had to stop and look.

Moments like this draw me out of myself to meditate on what is really there and to think of what it means. And while I am thinking, the sun sets, the colors leave and I am in the dark. But I have swallowed the seeds of illumination.


It is odd that I should feel the way I do because everyday I am closer to dying and being 'lost'. These are the 'ultimate' concepts impressed on me as a child and all through my adult life. (They are still being impressed on the minds of children in the care of Christian fundamentalists.)

But, shouldn't I cling to something' in this situation? Is the reaction I was taught appropriate to a situation like mine? I was taught that holding on to something; the future, the past, something other than this slippery mercurial moment that can't be held would make me safe.

Asking questions in the context of time elaborated on by Albert Einstein was the key that allowed the door to remain open for me. When reality resumed I realized I had been taught many 'well meaning' ideas, but that they were fundamentally incorrect in the way they were presented. They were not only incorrect, but harmful to me as a person.

The idea of despising the moment of God's providence was the way I learned to be unfaithful and ungrateful for the day by day sustenance Jesus said his 'Father' provides for all of creation. I learned to trust in another 'Father', one in the 'future' whose throne is on Wall Street. In that context Jesus' words are just foolishness.

But Jesus said this: Matthew 6.

"24 No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon.

25 Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?

26 Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?

27 Which of you by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature?"

Similar thoughts are here in Verse 16 of the Tao. Click on the 'Tao Te Ching'.

"Touch ultimate emptiness,
Hold steady and still.

All things work together:
I have watched them reverting,
And have seen how they flourish
And return again, each to his roots.

This, I say, is the stillness:
A retreat to one's roots;
Or better yet, return
To the will of God,
Which is, I say, to constancy.
The knowledge of constancy
I call enlightenment and say
That not to know it
Is blindness that works evil."

Jesus explained the providence of his 'Father' in the same way Lao Tzu described the providence of the 'mighty Way'. Everything keeps on keeping on. Food keeps growing, rain keeps falling, the sun keeps shining and we keep falling in love to keep the world from being uninhabited. According to Jesus and Lao Tzu that's what keeps things rolling.

The key to all this is to trust that the present moment will bring forth what is needed and that to meddle with it and try to pull more out than it wants to give up is somehow wrong; a denial of the 'Father', a misuse of the 'Way'.

From verse 29 of the Click here: Tao Te Ching'.


"As for those who would take the whole world
To tinker as they see fit,
I observe that they never succeed:
For the world is a sacred vessel
Not made to be altered by man.
The tinker will spoil it;
Usurpers will lose it."

Everything we try to hold onto to, to keep, to preserve, dies in our grip and becomes a corpse we carry with us. Hauling the past around is an unbearable burden. Hoping for a better day 'bye and bye' is the thief that breaks in and steals the treasure the 'king' bestows every passing moment inasmuch as it makes me want to ignore the providential divinity present in the moment. Holding on to the past or grasping for the future means we have turned our back on the ways and means of the Kingdom of God Jesus spoke of.

We as a society have done it and we've got the culture to prove it.


Below is a video I made involving moving away from my house on 'the hill' in New York to the north coast of Oregon. It will be a multi-part attempt to make sense of everything.

Moment by Moment

(Click on the photographs to enlarge them)

Early this morning there was a thunder storm with high wind gusts and torrential rain. It began abruptly. The winds blew part of the awning of the deck off. It was brief but violent. The amount of rain was incredible given the amount of time it rained.

I unplugged the computer, disconnected the internet cable and decided to write a poem about the squall on battery power. As I began to write I thought illustrating it with a video would be effective. The videos and still photographs below is what I came up with.

The thought inspiring the poem is that one moment leads inexorably to the next. The future and the past are connected by the present which makes the moment take on a great importance.

Also in my thoughts was the transitory nature of experience. It didn't rain all day. It changed from one moment to the next. First one thing was happening, then another thing. Both experiences even though different were organically connected by the preceding moment. This is the process of creating the future and it indicates to me the 'oneness' of experience, reality and time.

The video is below the text of the poem.


Moment by Moment


Thunder comes in a long continuous rumble
like the sound of an approaching freight train
but richer with a more melodious timbre,

lightning stabs at trees on the hilltop.
Rain and wind appear fierce, suddenly
suddenly ripping panels from the deck
and dropping them on the steps.

The next moment the wind is gone,
rain falls quietly having no memory
of the moment before.










Later today there was this:



















And sunshine. What do these moments say?




Poem and visual elements Copyright 2009 by David H. Roche

In The Temple of the Elk

A herd of a hundred or more elk came to graze in the pasture next to trailer park. Some left the confines of the pasture and ambled out onto the adjoining lawns. There are said to be three herds of elk in the area. Two of the bulls had racks of at least ten points and maybe twelve. There were several bulls with smaller racks.

It is impressive to see these elegant statuesque creatures. They go where they want to go. I was more impressed with their quiet animal spirit.

They noticed me and were aware of my movements with the camera so they kept an eye on me. I came within twenty to twenty-five feet of them with nothing between us but grass. They seem to be quite well adjusted to the infringement of noisy trouble makers like me and my kind into their primeval world.

I wasn't the only one to come and gaze at them. When the word was out that the herd had come to the pasture, occupants released themselves from their houses, computers and televisions and came to stand on the grass and watch with awestruck fascination.

Why can an event like this wrench us from our domestic routines to gaze in wonder at wild things that we have long parted company with? My personal feeling is that it is like getting a long distance phone call from the home we ran away from and for which there is an unrecognized need to return to.

I hope you enjoy the visuals and the poem.




Photographs, video and poem Copyright 2009 by David H.Roche

It's A Circle

I went to sunset beach at sunset. I found the sun just touching the rim of the ocean when I got there (an illusion, beautiful none the less)

I took the video and the photographs and when I came home and looked at them I wondered. Strangely what came to my mind were verses from the creation myth in Genesis:

In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.
And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.
And God said, Let there be light: and there was light.
And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness.
And God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And the evening and the morning were the first day.

It made me think; is life a circle or a line that terminates? So I let one track run over into the next to indicate the succession of days. Another thought came to me as well. Day and night light, and darkness are the same thing. They've been separated. Before the separation they were one.

Here's the video:



The Grateful Dead have always encouraged the taping and distribution of their concerts. So I don't think they'll mind me using this track.

Photos and videos mine, the music is by the Grateful Dead 'jammin' at the edge of magic'. the song is Dark Star (crashing).

Illumination In A Plastic Chair

What follows is a series of photographs taken of a plastic chair. The images in the video are of the same chair, but have been altered by photo imaging software. The still photographs are the product of time exposure. The purpose is not only to show that the ordinary things of life often have immense beauty if we look at them the right way. But more importantly they are not always what they seem to be. The later is something not often understood.

(click on the photographs for greater detail)










Photographs and everything else Copyright 2009 by David H. Roche

Giving Thanks To A Chicken

I was cooking a chicken, observing what was left of it's features and wrote this poem.

(Click on highlighted texts for photograph and video)

Looking at your dismembered body in the stew pot
I see the place your head had been
and think of your tortured soul.

Bread and wine have done nothing for me;
but your flesh gives me life.
I take it, but forgive me, I didn't know what I was doing.
Amen.



Text and photograph Copyright 2009 by David H. Roche, Videos from you tube.

Transience

Mountains disappear
behind a scrim of mist;
I am also disappearing
but no more or less
than mountains dissolved by rain.





Photograph and Poem Copyright 2009 By David H. Roche

The Transcendental Sensuality of the Orange

(click on the highlighted texts and photograph)



Ice cold from the fridge I hold you
and my hunger rises with my desire
as your perfumed flesh
opens to me

I have need for discipline
while I peel you
disclosing what I crave.

If I give in quickly
my haste will spoil the feast you offer.
Instead I linger, gazing,
anticipating your sweet juices.

This poem is inspired by the Song of Songs in the bible.

This poem is the product of David H. Roche. It is private property. You are allowed only to look at it and form your own conclusions.

Summer Rain

(Click on Photographs to enlarge them.)

Without warning wild winds and black scud
replaced serene blue sultry skies
violently thrashing the maple by the porch.












Icy rain stung, pelting the dry earth
before passing as quickly as it appeared
leaving a bouquet of pungent, funky, earthy scents
rising from the grassless dust



worn bare by Boo in summer vigils
waiting for rabbits to venture
from the hedgerow.


Photographs and text Copyright 2009 by David H. Roche

The Lake: a video reading of a short story

'The Lake' is a short story I wrote in 1987. I just learned how to use the web cam my son gave me so I tried it out. It worked the first time.

Form Without Form

(Click on highlighted text and photograph)



(title from verse 35 of the Tao Te Ching)

I’m not a follower or a leader.
I’m not a believer,
or a patriot paying with his blood
to play someone else’s game.

All explanations for life are false:
to see the sky,
hear the surf,
or peer into your eyes
is enough.

An Afternoon At Sunset Beach

(click on photographs to enlarge them)

One of the nice things about the beaches on the North Coast of Oregon is that it's difficult to find them crowded. Oh there's times when you'll find more people than you want to be with. But most times there's no trouble finding yourself by yourself and alone with your thoughts.



But you might want to bring someone.









I found this creature heading west. I assumed it is a caterpillar and have no idea what it thinks its doing.









I suppose it could be some sort of creature I have never seen before but it looks like a caterpillar to me. Anyhow I followed it for a long time and it kept right on headed toward the ocean.



It eventually turned back, or else I got tired of watching it. The tide was going out faster than it was moving and if its goal was the ocean I could see I didn't have the time to wait. I left it there with the sea gulls.

Canada Geese

(click on highlighted texts and photos)

I saw the familiar ‘V’ passing overhead
and heard their broken woodwind voices.
I’ve watched them in New York for most of 62 years.
Today they were in Oregon with me.

Their destination is the same as always,
and some will fall on the way.
They can’t know I am flying with them.

Some Thoughts I Got From A Common Slug

(Click on highlighted text and photo.)

I was on the way across the street to the duck pond when I saw this fantastically beautiful creature right in front of the garden gate. The morning sun was shining on him as
he was going about his business being a slug. Click the highlighted 'slug' for an Oregon Public Broadcasting video interview with the 'Slug Lady'.

The majority of people regard these creatures as pests. I believe this is indicative of a particular view promoted by western civilization based on a faulty starting place in the thinking process. Click here to find what I regard as the proper starting place to begin thinking about ourselves and our place in the universe.


My thoughts on the slug I found at my gate.

Here he and she is. He and she is the right designation because slugs are hermaphrodites. And he and she is going about his and her business doing slug stuff.

From a parochial human point of view that business involves destroying 'my garden'. Which is a very nearsighted view. This nearsightedness is an all to common human tendency. That concept is explored in the highlighted links above.

The conventional approach that exemplifies the traditional western philosophy of regarding oneself and ones environment is basically that of domination and subduing. Slash, burn, conquer and if deemed necessary destroy.

There is another way to consider the relationship humans have with the earth. It's described in this brief video.


Enjoy our slug today. The ducks across the street will find him tasty. Which is the way it should be. The coyotes in the hills often come and grab a duck at night. Which is the way it should be. Someday I'll be unable to walk out my gate; which is the way it should be.

Enjoy our slug today.

Reflections On Indra's Net

Reflections on Indra’s Net





(Click on highlighted text and photographs for greater detail.)




When I look down I know
there’s not much time left,

you’re wasting away in front of your bowl
while you look up into my eyes.













In my mind I hear you say: “I'm leaving.”
Stooping to pet your head

you purr and I say out loud:
“We’ve been together to long for me to let you go alone.”

It Has Nothing to Do With The Coffee

(Click on the photos.)


It Has Nothing to Do With The Coffee


You woke me.
All night the bench was hard
and I had to move to the scrub pines three times
when headlights shined down the prom.
The sun is warm now
and I don’t have to move no matter who comes.




It’s a beautiful day
though I did wish I could have
the remainder of the coffee you
threw in the trashcan next to me
while you were speaking into your phone
to someone in Portland about being on vacation
and how ‘they’ could go fuck themselves.

I didn’t feel bad for you even after a pause
when you said: “I’ll be there this afternoon god damn it.”
It has nothing to do with the coffee,
I can get their cans.

What Are You Waiting For?

(Click on the highlighted texts.)


What Are You Waiting For?


Death,
I can hear your footsteps on the porch.
Don’t bother to knock,
come right in.

Believing Is Seeing

(Click on highlighted links for more information.)
Hawkweed, dandelions and slugs provide a look into the nature of how we understand what is happening around us.

Basically we see what we believe should be the normal state of affairs. We determine normality through a variety of information inputs which we have agreed within ourselves or in concert with others to be the way things should be. That becomes what we expect to see.

Imagine that you live in an area where you might come upon a poisonous snake in the road. In the moonlight you see something stretched across the path. Your immediate thought is of a snake and you react as if it were a snake. Your blood pressure rises, you feel a surge of fear immediately, and your mental state completely changes as your heart rate accelerates and your face warms up. Then you realize it is a rope. I saw a dog turn into a stump in just this way recently.

Even though there was no snake, you reacted as if there were a snake. It was a genuine response because you were convinced by being prepared to see a snake so one appeared and scared the crap out of you. But now you know the snake did not exist anywhere but in your mind. The snake was something you created. It was an illusion just like the dog I saw that turned into a stump.

The people in this area are living under the illusion that Hawkweed is actually Dandelion. I know better than that. I've determined it by examination. I know why they call Hawkweed Dandelion. The plants are vaguely similar in appearance, and the people looking at them do not look close enough. They have agreed together that these plants are Dandelions. However I know for certain they are Hawkweed because I have taken the time to examine them. There's an application of this to democracy as well. And here is is a slug feasting on the bottom parts of a hawk weed plant . This shows you the way he and she became a duck.


I started thinking about the insistence of the locals here on demanding that Hawkweed be called Dandelion. Their authority is that they grouped together on the basis of collective ignorance in order to enforce the idea that Hawkweed is actually Dandelion. But if anyone of them had been required to look closely at the two plants they would recognize the differences fairly soon. But collective opinions are very powerful.

The video below will explain in more detail than I have related regarding the reason we experience the things we experience.

Invocation: Ceremony by the Sea

This is at the end of a short road named 'Sunset Beach Lane' in Warrenton Oregon. There are many roads like this along the coastal highway that offer mouth dropping surprises if you go down them.

(Click on photograph to see what I mean)



Sunset Beach Lane is only about a mile long. There are a series of very large rolling sand dunes between the highway and the ocean. As you see it cuts through the first dune and opens out onto the beach. Vehicles are allowed out on the beach.

At the entrance to the beach there are tracks in the dry sand that give the illusion of safe passage but can, under the right circumstances, bog a 4WD drive down and get it stuck if it doesn't keep moving.

To say there are ruts would be misleading. It appears that there are ruts. But a rut implies a stable structure such as frozen mud or snow would produce, which in turn leaves a stable area for the path of the tires. The walls of these tracks in the sand are continually sliding in on top of themselves and what appears at a distance to be a stable track is actually fluid sand.

As I was walking in I watched a 4WD coming out. I remarked to myself that he was not moving fast enough and sure enough he slowed even more due to the resistance and lack of stability of the sand, and then it was all over. The wheels begin to dig in and rather quickly it just stopped. It was like watching a cheetah in the final stages of pursuing a gazelle in the sense that it was a forgone conclusion that the 4WD didn't stand a chance. I helped push him out. He could not have gotten going again without being pushed.

Being stuck in sand is different from being stuck in snow. The snow can be moved out of the way, but the sand will continue to simply fill in so that the tires are always on a bed of unstable sand. I didn't take the Saturn out there. Some have had the experience of losing their cars to the tide.

This is a nice place to spend the day digging clams, meditating etc. But many people come here for the sunsets to have some beers and party almost every night when it is clear in the summer. It's hardly ever crowded. This is a beach as untamed as it could possibly be. There's nothing commercial to interfere with what the ocean offers up.

This is noteworthy because the Pacific speaks profoundly with great understatement as it simply continues its unending chant. For those who listen it offers a purely primal encounter at this part of the universe. Take a look. (Click on highlighted text.) Stop and listen to the still small voice within your 'self'.

An Update on the Industry of the Ant

(Click on highlighted text for additional information)

The writer of the book of Proverbs in the Old Testament made a comment on the virtue of the ants habits and encouraged his son with the example of being industrious for his own well being. Proverbs 6:







6 Go to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise:

7 Which having no guide, overseer, or ruler,

8 Provideth her meat in the summer, and gathereth her food in the harvest.

9 How long wilt thou sleep, O sluggard? when wilt thou arise out of thy sleep?

The father is urging his son to take command of himself. 'no guide, overseer, or ruler'. She does it by 'herself'.

But she eventually dies and then all the hectic labor she has been engaged in becomes ingredients for the recycling center.

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That was Solomon's view and Jesus comments on it in Matthew 6:

24 No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon.

25 Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?

26 Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?

27 Which of you by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature?

28 And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin:

29 And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.

30 Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to day is, and to morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?

31 Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed?

32(For after all these things do the Gentiles seek:) for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things.

33 But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.

34 Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.

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Just what is Jesus saying here? Is Solomon wrong for encouraging industriousness and accumulation for the future? Is there another,better, way to relate to being here now? How does it fit in with this?

Mind Expansion: learning to see what IS

(click on highlighted text for further information)

Think of this as an aid for meditation; as a springboard for your thoughts. Try to imagine what it means if this information is correct. If this makes sense to you after you take in the information you have the necessary tools to put this information to work in transforming the knowledge you have of who and what you are as a person. When you do, for your purposes, a new world replete with perceptions consistent with that world begins to develop.

CLICK HERE FOR THE BEGINNING.

Fantastic trip

Uploaded on authorSTREAM by manfrombiology | Upload your own presentation

Imagine the real nature of matter being intimately associated with consciousness. Imagine yourself not only being here, but being an actual constituent working element of what is being expressed now. Imagine being able to conceive of yourself as intimately associated and involved with the inner nature of life itself by virtue of having co-existed eternally with it. The sense of separateness, fear and estrangement felt by failure to recognize this fundamental facet of experience has vanished. The feeling is like you walked into the parlor of your childhood home after many years and everyone was there just like it used to be.


Amit Goswami, Ph.D. is at the center of a scientific revolution. There is a new way of evaluating ourselves and it is becoming increasingly clear that the current perception we have of ourselves has just about played out its usefulness. Enjoy.

Part 1:



Part 2:




Part 3:

I Love To Watch Her Strut

LIFE





There's always the chance of breaking through.

Breakfast on the Beach

(click photographs for detail)



There's so many things I see and say: 'I think I understand'.






Like this breakfast:



















...on it goes.

Retirement Pieing

(Click highlighted texts)

Last Thursday morning the 26th of March I got pied as part of a going away tradition in the place I used to work at. Its a strange concept, getting used to not working. I have lots to do here to get ready and I have to begin today. After breakfast.



I don't know how the pie-ing tradition came into being. Other stores in the chain do not celebrate leaving the job in such a way, and in the store I was working only the night crew department does. And if you've been there a while and then leave you get pied at some point in you last night.

Don't trust anyone that night.

For My Steps Alone

(click on highlighted text for photographs.)

This has been my last winter on the hill here and I am enjoying the annual return of spring in a way I could not enjoy it before because I am leaving. I plan to return here to this place that has been home to me since 12/26/1973. But I doubt it will ever be home to me again. When I return I will come for the memories: they will teach me the truth of the present.



The song of the red winged black bird is a defining marker of the change of seasons. 'Purple-dee' they sing at sunrise. My ex told me the words of their song.

The following has happened in the last few days. The warm weather has coaxed entities from the soil. The blossom below is a flower from a root that my ex wife decades ago, planted with her hands and which we enjoyed together for a time. That experience has passed with the continuing seasons. I still enjoy the flowers without her.

I found these in the yard. daffodils and tulips. They still have something to say.

The crocus blossoms were barely there yesterday. (click to enlarge them)


They arrive every year right on schedule when the winter goes through its changes.

What do you make of that?

I've given up the idea that the natural world represents a stupid, mindless, machine like process working to an inevitable result as the knowledge of western science has lead us to believe. I am certain there is a creative intelligence motivating this planet and the rest of what is. I call it God. I refuse to define it. I refuse to play politics with the notion or make a religion out of it.

Check this out.

Meditate on this.



Text and video of sunrise along with still photographs Copyright 2009 by David H. Roche

Zen

The wild geese
announced themselves, waking me

with broken reed notes …
Zen masters honking bop at sunrise

having flown through the night
with directions gathered from every aspect of the cosmos.



I am a shadow on the same screen;
leaving no trail, but going on.

---------------------------------------------

Images of the swan constellation and the other obviously not original material are the product or property of those attributed at the source link.

The remaining text video and photograph are by me, Hermeneutic etc, Copyright 2009 by David H. Roche

Today and Tomorrow

(Click on highlighted text for photographs.)

The woodpile is smaller than yesterday
and today is colder.

Even so, the fire burns
and the house is warm;

I do not hope.
Hope is for the unbelieving.

I know death is a hoax:
When does the universe take
without giving back?

Text and photographs Copyright 2009 by David H. Roche

Redneck Tales: The Redneck As Sports Narrator

"The ring necked pheasant is
one of the world's most beautiful birds.
The striking multi-colored vest has
lead it to be called
the peacock of North America.




The name comes from
the bright white ring
around his throat.
It is especially eye catching in the sunshine
against the contrasting plumage."

The redneck spoke
and his boots crunched
on the bird's neck as he bent
to remove his arrow.

I suppose he subscribes
to Hustler too.

Photograph,video and text Copyright 2009 by David H. Roche

I Saw God Today

The first of the three Gatti - Ward fights was the best. The other two were simply money makers for HBO. The first was an honest all out brawl that lived up to the pre-fight hype. The 9th round represents everything good about boxing and the human spirit. (Click on highlighted segments for videos.)

The look on Gatti's face after the left hook to the liver early on in the 9th round says it's over. The spirit in his heart says it isn't. He got up at the count of 9 and a half.

Gatti up to this point in his career was noted for having the shit beaten out of him, fighting with both eyes swollen shut and coming back to score a knock out. His handlers, most likely for pecuniary reasons, took control of him and changed his style. It prolonged his career and earned him a lot of money. This is representative of turning boxing into a politically correct sport where the human spirit takes a back seat. Promoters have different agendas.

Boxing has from its inception, at least in the fighters heart, been about the human spirit. Men fighting with their ears almost torn off and dangling, men climbing back into the ring, men not giving up. If you are a real human, man or woman, you're a 9 and a half count human and you get up.

God is manifested in the human face.



I saw God today.
Both of him in an 18
square foot ring.

Gatti - Ward 1.
He died and was

resurrected in
Round 9. Both
of him.

I knelt.
and worshiped.

Text © David H. Roche 2009

Dancing With The Moon

We’ve always been leaving
or arriving,
flotsam on the tides
of a great sea:



our ‘selves’ like
driftwood,
and broken shells;
bits of things once whole
now fragments collecting on an unimaginable shore …
you and I under the spell of moonlight
called to dance the only dance there is.

Text, Photographs and Video: Copyright 2009 by David H. Roche

Tides

The tide is the evidence of being connected to everything else.

The implications of this are immense.

The tide is the dance of the earth, moon and sun. (Click on photographs to enlarge them)

On the beach At Lincoln City 11/09/05




The heaving and rolling
is constant.

The Pacific:
a Zen masters Koan.

A smile in the gray dawn at the recognition
that the universe both sings
and dances.

The tide is a returning and a continuing. The photos that follow are a representation of that eternal notion. Nothing leaves but that it returns. The tide is continually recycling the contents of the ocean and depositing them on the shore. It is a metaphor that speaks of something.



























































































Having come from somewhere near Idaho in ages that have no history attached to them this monolith, Haystack Rock at Cannon Beach Oregon, stands as a representative of change and the tremendous forces associated with life on earth. Eventually it will be smooth sand and no consciousness will have noticed it occurring.





This is the reality we must accommodate ourselves to because it is the only reality. That being said, I believe there is more here than meets the eye. Something is going on.

What a wonderful mystery.


Text and photographs Copyright 2009 by David H. Roche