Mark Is Musing

DINNER AND A MOVIE - Mark’s Musing Thursday Dec. 31, 2009

today’s Musing  written and published from south Calgary, near Fish Creek Park

 

Morning walk: -22C/-8F, overcast, calm, we ran to save some time – Gusta thought that was her cue to run faster than me…. not by much, but you get my point; I’m back, winded, breakfasting . . savoring last morning walk of the year.

 

It’s New year’s eve. Some people party (I’m doing dinner and a movie with a friend); some people party hearty, some drink it all in, some drown the old one(s) with melancholy, tears and alcohol.  Some people rent a stack of movies and pop the popcorn.

 

Summing up my year: like reviewing a movie; was it comedy or tragedy, drama, thriller, romance, documentary, chick-flick?  Did it leave a deep impression, change my life or just leave buttered popcorn stains on a favorite sweater? 

 

This year’s great moments, sad ones too; moments of great joy, moments of substantial learning, and – in between - too much filler, lost time spaces that seemed like fine activities at the time, routine, but so much of it lost from memory, it’s value questionable. Maybe Charlie Chaplin was right: ‘In the end, everything is a gag’.

 

2009 is over.  Did it have value, or just take up time, or hold lessons – setting stage for 2010?  Some of it, forgettable series of clock tics or like the metaphor rich silent film - Charlie Chaplin’s ‘The Little Tramp’, conveying so much meaning without a word?

 

I came across a T.S. Eliot quote that got me thinking about a movie (The Magus); of past dreams, past loves, past mistakes … and I wondered if a movie review made as much sense as year-end retrospectives.  I remember one line, more than the movie; it was one of Eliot’s: ‘We shall not cease from exploration and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started … and know the place for the first time’.  I was no student of Eliot, hadn’t read his work. This line was quoted by John Fowles in The French Lieutenant's Woman, not because I read it, but because it was quoted in a movie The Magus, spoken by Michael Caine as he passed that wisdom to Candace Bergen’s character.  I don’t recall her character’s name, I was only there to watch Candace Bergen. I looked it up.  She was Lily.

 

So, Caine (Nicholas Urfe), who’d met the magician Anthony Quinn (Maurice Conchis), said those words to Lily. I think it was him, or was it Conchis? Mostly I remember Lily’s awesome classic beauty, and those words; some memory of a gorgeous Greek Island. OK, you guessed it, I had huge thing for Candace Bergen back then (I was in my prime – 17 –- in 1968).

 

If my year was to be summed, it might be described as ‘full circle’ in terms of an emotional and creative roller-coaster; ups, downs, turns, speedy parts, slow parts – and an ending.  Is it happy?  Some parts.  Resolution of ‘not happy’ deposits me at this starting point of a new chapter, a going off point, a going forward place, as if intermission is over – time for the next segment of this movie.

 

Orson Welles said: ‘If you want a happy ending, that depends, of course, on where you stop your story.’   As this year ends, the story continues, one not for stopping - new year begins; and we shall not cease from exploration and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started … and know the place for the first time.

 

Fade to black - THE END

 

Mark Kolke

325,636

196.8

 

 

RESPONSES/COMMENTS ALWAYS WELCOME; send to musing@maxcomm.ca

 

 

 

December 30  Responses  

 

December 30 – UNTIL IT ARRIVES – My heart goes out to you both, Mark.  I remember someone saying to me: “I’ve done some research.  Menopause can last until you are 65.  I’m not sticking around that long.” – that was an end and a beginning too.  It was both the end of a 13 year relationship and the beginning of building and fulfilling some items on a ‘bucket list’.  Horribly painful, but being a moth flying into a flame wasn’t a choice. Death was, but those left behind would be hurt, would never understand, and although the courage to destroy oneself was there, the heart to hurt others was not.  The new path led to a rich platonic relationship, full of excitement. Then it led to a mortgage with only one name on it.  It led to Australia, where a choice was made not to remain there as someone’s spouse.  It led to Finland, Wales, almost every province across Canada and to someone who could see beyond and see what the other person could not.  No fault there. Each day, there’s another path and the bucket list grows.  Happiness is here, but it is also in Hawaii – I live here and dream of the other, sweet dreams without tears.  Opportunity is here, I will visit my dream often. JW – Calgary/Cochrane, AB

 

December 30 – UNTIL IT ARRIVES - My, my, Mark.  After reading the last paragraph of this musing, I am beginning to think that right before my eyes, you are turning into a real local, Maui boy!  Learning to 'hang loose' a little already.  Good.  The answer to the last question is: only in becoming little do we become great. It's about sheer faith, humility and absolute trust. Follow the dream, Mark, and you will find the reason for sleeping.  Step out and be not afraid, LP, Wailuku, HI

 

December 30 – UNTIL IT ARRIVES - Glad to see the techno challenge was resolved, and that you included my response. Onward dear friend!, SW, Coeur d'Alene, ID

UNTIL IT ARRIVES - Mark’s Musing Wednesday Dec. 30, 2009

today’s Musing  written and published from south Calgary, near Fish Creek Park

 

Morning walk: -16C/2F, light fluffy flakes falling, Gusta liked the lassie-look-alike she saw but I held my ground as she winched away; sound muffling affect of that light blanket is awesome . .

 

Energy flows from decisions – mundane ones too - consequences from each, momentum from step-step-step process. The street we live on or beach we walk – or day we attend a conference – alter course of our history, because we experience them, or because of what we will miss had we taken another route that day.

 

Seneca said: ‘Every new beginning come from some other beginning’s end.’

 

T.S. Eliot said it better, or more fully I think: ‘What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.’

 

Thanks – friends, for notes/calls to wish me well; some too to whack me/my words and deeds. Everyone with ‘a little knowledge of a situation is entitled to an opinion’ I suppose. Feedback, including negative, has been valuable for me to hear. Some has been helpful. Some not. That’s how these things work. 

 

This has been coming , like a train you see approaching from far off in the distance - it doesn't get larger/or smaller, it just gets closer, and closer . . until it arrives. Regret has no place in this equation – what we did or what we missed; each element, a product of some tiny little choice. 

 

That arrival, mixes melancholy and relief, clarity and confusion, hurts and hurting – brings action steps, many steps, little decisions – some meaningless, pivotal, profound - hard to pick which ones matter most when they are rapid. In the fullness of time, some will be still be just grains of sand, some will be pearls.

 

I’ve written often of paths and the gate, on the path, waiting to be opened, marking point of separation between new ideas and the past, between future dreams and past lessons. Recent days; choices to make, steps, more steps – some timid, some bold – along this path. Dealing with these choices, many mundane ones, like choosing which shower curtain to buy or doormat or cleanser, or renting the townhouse I toured last night, are mostly just steps .. in a series of many.  I think I’ll like it there. I think Gusta will too. It’s a place that will work – and for now that is what matters; experiences will happen there – ones that can happen anywhere, because the most important experiences happen where WE are.

 

2010, it appears, will be all new path. Along it, thousands of opportunities to practice impulse control, or not. As I explore path, ‘walk a beach’, chart a course - each profound experience; especially when I consider how softly and innocently it/he/she/they came into my life, reminds me to observe so many little things. They matter more than big things.

 

Much a-do, change, choice in front of me.  All important, or just ‘tings to be done?  Many fit a ‘will it be important a year (or ten) from now?’ rationale.  Most don’t matter - need to be made, tasks to be done, then items on the mental to-do list will be over; but, how do we know which little are ‘inconsequential little choices’ and which ones alter the course of history, or our little part of it?

 

Mark Kolke

325,860   

197.5

 

RESPONSES/COMMENTS ALWAYS WELCOME; send to musing@maxcomm.ca

 

 

 

December 29  Responses  

 

December 29 – THREE JARS –  I hope you find a quiet place. Love you, KT, Mexico City airport, between Puerto Vallarta and Huatulco

 

December 29 – THREE JARS - Three Jars. Well put. Bit different here, though. Yesterday's Jar? - Purge regularly as with any "storage" space in our life.  The most valuable "gems" of our past days lived will settle to the bottom and become even more valuable as time passes. Today's Jar? - Make sure its exploding by the end day!  We're never sure what experience of "today" will be passed on to "yesterday's jar" or just savored for the moment and tossed. The day's significance is difficult to assume if we truly live in the moment . The best stock-taking of the Today Jar's content is at bedtime........when blessings are counted. Tomorrow's  Jar? - Blissfully empty. Because I cannot grasp the idea of "imagination" as a solid. A pleasant void space that encompasses the idea of hopes, dreams and experiences not yet enjoyed. Just beginning to  blossom themselves into the morning when we awake to welcome them into  "Today's Jar".  LAR, " chillin' " in Wpg, MAN

 

December 29 – THREE JARS – My mother grew a plant when I was young.  She called it yesterday, today, tomorrow. Yesterday's flower was a very pale lilac.  Lovely.  Today's flower was medium purple.  Very nice.  Straight forward.  Tomorrow's flower was a vibrant, deep hued, luscious royal purple.  I thought of this plant when I read of your jars  (and thought of my mother who seemed quite fond of this unassuming botanical specimen which struggled to grow in our salty, sandy beach soil.)   The sweet, softness of yesterday as it fades in our memories, the reasonable, straightforward grasp we have on today, and my favorite, tomorrow, Kaunakakai, HI 

 

December 28 – HARD TO SEE – Just read yesterdays column... Sitting on the deck in Kihei reading your last couple of columns.  Trying to work out how I feel about your Dec 28 announcement. It is a  mixture of feelings, sadness, anticipation..... I can understand now  your love for Maui, but sorry to hear that the person you are with  can't share that with you. Good luck in your search, let's have a coffee when I return, SB, Calgary/Kihei, HI

 

December 28 – HARD TO SEE - Mark old friend,  I haven't read your musings in a few days due to concern after my father's heart attack. He's fine, thanks for asking. So, today’s words show clearly you have arrived at the inevitable. Hard to see? Not really. You've been traveling this path for quite some time, and the answer to your question on whether the path getting wider or clearer....I'd say both. You simply made a choice to not continue, knowing you would feel compromised. Not giving up your dream to accommodate another’s may seem selfish at the time, but in the end, being true to self is all we have to live an authentic life. A male friend years ago, shocked me by quoting a poem he memorized, after he had to make a huge life change, which was very stressful. It's by the Pulitzer prize winning poet Mary Oliver. (I may have sent this a year ago, but it is worth repeating.  The Journey: "One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began. Though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice--though the whole house began to tremble and you felt the old tug at your ankles. "Mend my life, each voice cried. But you didn't stop. You knew what you had to do, though the wind pried with its stiff fingers at the very foundations, thought their melancholy was terrible. It was already late enough, and a wild night, and the road full of fallen branches and stones. But little by little, as you left their voices behind, the stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds, and there was a new voice which you slowly recognized as your own, that kept you company as you strode deeper and deeper into the world, determined to do the only thing you could do---determined to save the only life you could save."  , SW, Coeur d'Alene, ID

THREE JARS - Mark’s Musing Tuesday Dec. 29, 2009

today’s Musing  written and published from south Calgary, near Fish Creek Park

 

Morning walk: -5C/22F, steady breeze continued from overnight but cooling off a bit; Gusta can’t quite figure out what I’ve got hanging from my ears (my new iPOD) as we took a new route this morning, for a change, the neighborhood sleeps . .

 

However a day goes, after some sleep, tomorrow DOES come.

 

Arriving each time we wake, we get to embrace each sunrise as a moment of joy. Or not.

 

I am responsible for my own happiness and that happiness mixes with exposure, emotions, aches. It pains in places not often known for hurting.  Rawness, not physical, can’t be soothed with cream or lotion, doesn’t go away when pressed against heat, or cold.  It just is.

 

I’m always storing things up in my mind, like three jars - labeled yesterday, today and tomorrow.  

 

Questions. What are the right questions to pose, to answer?  Armed with feeling, seeking - using ache path, in a hope to understand. Wondering produces, when least expected, profoundly enlightening experience.  It has in the past. I trust it will again. It might show up today, or tomorrow. And, once learned, will be stored in yesterday.

 

Knowing is important. Feeling is important. Which matters most? 

 

Wouldn’t it be great to use laws of physics to figure out people (and ourselves).

 

I’m fascinated the Newton figured out so much, as did Einstein, Hawking … to explain the universe to us, action/reaction of atoms, forces of gravity, energy, matter.

 

Actions/reactions, beginnings/endings, opinions and behaviors interest me, scare me; like walking a tightrope without a net; afraid of falling, but knowing I have to walk forward today, and tomorrow.

 

Yesterday . . where I store experience, mistakes, loss, pain, joy, successes and failures.

 

Today . . not a storage vessel.  It is workspace for filling, leisure time for doing, time for rest, home of hope and fear, where aches are felt and angst hangs out – all in preparation for tomorrow.

 

Tomorrow … where I keep what is to come, where my dreams live, my imagination flourishes, not so much about dreams coming true, but in anticipation for great newness, the openings that follow closures, new beginnings that follow the past, joys. I do expect them. They will show up. Some days it won’t feel that way. On those days I’ll remind myself that they do.

 

Each day, some piece of tomorrow’s dreams arrives in my today jar. Each night, everything in the today jar that’s not used up or burnt up, moves into the yesterday jar.

 

In the yesterday jar, the freshest memories and most recent events sit on top – they’ve not settled yet, not adapted to their new storage place, not yet covered and surrounded by more things, words, experiences, …. there will be more, soon, to comfort the rough parts, the sore parts, the paining parts.  That’s the way these things work.

 

Mark Kolke

325,884

197.3

 

 

RESPONSES/COMMENTS ALWAYS WELCOME; send to musing@maxcomm.ca

 

 

 

December 28  Responses  

 

December 28 – HARD TO SEE - I wish you peace as you travel your path. And I offer these words from John O'Donohue's blessing, "For Love in a Time of Conflict":". . . Now is the time . . . to be gracious, / To allow a kindness beyond thought and hurt,/ Reach out with sure hands / To take the chalice of your love, / And carry it carefully through this echoes waste/ Until this winter pilgrimage leads you/ Toward the gateway to spring.", MD, Arlington, VA

 

December 28 – HARD TO SEE - After getting your message (re: meeting cancellation) and now reading your post, I see.  I’m sorry this has come to pass – it too shall pass.  As LP in Wailuku wrote yesterday, drive an hour, until the clothes dry or Elvis leaves the building and settle into where you’re at. As in all things, this is just another part of the path ahead we cannot see until we get there. It’s easy to see the past from today’s viewpoint. Not so easy to see the road ahead. And yet, that too shall become clear as you get to it. Breathe and let the moment pass into the next. As you wrote, you are both good people. The goodness doesn’t change, regardless of your proximity to each other.  What changes is where you’re at.  Breathe my friend and call me when you’re ready, LG, Calgary, AB

 

December 28 – HARD TO SEE – Between flts in Pearson.  Today's column was full of respect for the relationship you shared; that honors who you were together. Was I the only one (beside PB) bothered by yesterday's column?  Will be boarding the next flt in a few minutes.  Travel has become work with all the rules and searches.  I feel as if someone owes me a pay cheque!, CB, Calgary/Cincinnati

 

HARD TO SEE - Mark’s Musing Monday Dec. 28, 2009

today’s Musing  written and published from south Calgary, near Fish Creek Park

 

Morning walk: -14C/6F, light clouds, Gusta sniffing hard, moving slow – until lap-dog with jogger in tow pulled us off course. Gym trip, seeing myself in many mirrors, middle-aged half-hearted workout wannabe; sight of many in worse shape, comforting, but given I work off more pounds in steam room than on treadmill, I shouldn’t talk.

 

What went wrong? Hard to see. Lots, little, nothing - depending on issue, viewpoint, viewer.  What went right?  Lots, but that isn’t the issue. Clearly seen, that gap appears wider than it did before. Did we each imagine a narrower gap or that spanning it would be easier? Perhaps.  Did we each expect the other to compromise or change? Obviously. 

 

Looking back, lots of things didn’t go wrong. They went right, went well, went happily. I can’t see them any other way. But, rosy hindsight doesn’t correct for truth or inevitability. 

 

Personification of dignity, grace, style, class and taste, she is kind, caring, generous and valued friend to all who know her. And to me. She’s loved me and cared for me in these unique ways for a long time.  And I for her in my ways. Two very nice people who care and cared for each other very much.

 

Compromise is hardest when it requires us to alter who we are, or path we want to travel in life.  Paths, very different paths, diverge …. words don’t fix things or alter paths that are laid in place. The challenge - wrest ourselves from a path – to travel the other’s path, or a third path we could invent. Recognizing we didn’t, is full of feelings, joys and hurts.

 

Space between - we would bridge in our mind - lifestyles, hopes, plans, dreams. No one at fault.  But, I own responsibility for pushing, for articulating my need to follow my path to point of breaking her.  She doesn’t deserve that. We are just two people, tired, weary of struggle -  waking up to reality. Our chosen paths are different.  Coming weeks will bring change. I’m looking for a new place to live. I’ve been invited to move on.

 

I’ve sown the seeds of this. What we face now - began a long time ago, we just didn't know it then.  It didn’t go horribly wrong, or off course.    A gap didn’t suddenly widen, it’s been there. All along, there were always two paths. We were on them when we met.  Two sets of expectations, two sets of assumptions. They’ve not changed much (the paths), but maybe the people traveling them have, our understanding of each other has too. 

 

Recognizing inevitability of paths, need to go in different directions, is difficult and painful adjustment to expectations. Whether that recognition comes into focus slowly as it has for me, or more quickly in recent months as it has for her, it still hurts; bringing with it second guessing and rear-view mirror stares, wondering ‘where did things go wrong?’.

 

Still, path-gap is substantial.  Hard to see, just now, if it got wider, or if it just got clearer.

 

Mark Kolke

325,908

197.1

 

 

RESPONSES/COMMENTS ALWAYS WELCOME; send to musing@maxcomm.ca

 

December 27  Responses  

 

December 27 – I’M DONE – I can relate in a BIG way about the need for quiet. I have a difficult time knowing what is fair to ask for especially since I live with a full blown project oriented doer! Honestly it drives me mad sometimes! My choice is to get up at 4:30am. I do get quiet time then. It's my choice. Now to do what I know I need to do for myself...anyway thank you for your thoughts today. Perhaps I am not as unreasonable in this area as I thought. Blessings, PT, Flagstaff, AZ

 

December 27 – I’M DONE – I spend a lot of time at the office. Nuf said, KK, Calgary, AB

 

December 27 – I’M DONE – Happy New Year Mark, enjoying your musings arriving on my Blackberry.  Have had lots to say, but only a wee keyboard to say it and lots of holiday distractions kept me away from that.  JW-Calgary/Cochrane

 

 

December 27 – I’M DONE – Face it Mark...you're irritated...with everything that is currently going on and with anything that could be remotely connected with everything that's going on.  I am sure that all of these sounds were here the last time they were on but you did not notice them as irritations then. Today you do.  You are in a state of wuziwuzi. You got yourself here...all by yourself.  Can't blame others or things for it.  You are the owner of all thought and emotion.  Get in your car and drive to a quiet place...an hour will do...or at least until the clothes are dry and Elvis has left the building.  I am sure that Canada has some serene places perfect for meditation...go there...and think of what triggered this, LP, Wailuku, HI

 

December 27 – I’M DONE – I'm not quite sure of the best approach to respond to what you have to offer today, but let me say this: I have spent the entire weekend doing a bunch of online work solving an unexpected particular medical problem that has just raised its head, but which is of some urgency. I would rather, like you, have been doing something else. May we all have a wonderful rest of the season, and a fresh start for the New Year, EG, Calgary, AB 

 

December 27 – I’M DONE – I'm now admiring Mark, thanks for posting this!, Las Vegas, NV

 

December 27 – I’M DONE – Your column says it all. When I am overfilled with stress, anxiety, worry, uncertainty..... every little thing becomes so huge.... doesn't matter that I am aware of my irritableness.... doesn't matter that I know I am not calm, cool, collected... I am so full I can't or won't control it. At those moments it just matters that the phone rings, the grandson is foolish, the bills are unending, the kitchen won't clean itself, the dog is hard headed, the weeds are growing too fast. For me, getting to the boiling over point often settles me right back down again...if I'm lucky, EC, Chicago, IL

I’M DONE - Mark’s Musing Sunday Dec. 27, 2009

today’s Musing  written and published from south Calgary, near Fish Creek Park

 

Morning walk: -11C/11F, mostly clear and calm, spandex clad joggers, dogs in tow, got Gusta’s attention – she nearly de-socketed my arm. The gym this morning was full of fellow over-turkeyed types in search of waistlines . .

 

May you have a happy, and quiet, Sunday afternoon. It’s quiet here now. Not sure if it will last. I’m looking over my shoulder, nobody there, hoping it lasts long enough to publish this column.

 

I like quiet once in a while.  OK, I like it routinely. It is important to my well being, my effectiveness at much of what I do. I can’t write well without it.

 

I don’t ask much … or often; not that I don’t get lots. I do. Santa’s stocking flowed over with many nice things, I live a genteel life in a pleasant place cared for rather well by most high standards. But, some days, I’m ready to crack.

 

Today I was about to go postal on appliances. Gimme a gun.

 

It began:

 

Is this because of the season? Or was it coffee I was given mid-evening ‘to keep me awake’, (which it did till 2:30AM)?  That gathering, 2^nd last (I think) in holiday events series.; I won’t need any Chinese food for a while (good, but I ate too much); sodium and MSG levels on overload.

 

I ask for quiet, in reasonable chunks.  Peace, quiet, concentration time.  Not a lot.  I don’t beg often.  I’ll be on my knees soon, or locked up – not sure which.

 

Not because I have been on noise, conversation and Christmas music overload for many days. Not because I am a writer who can only concentrate and think, to be effective, when not constantly interrupted.  Does anyone understand that?  I planned/expected a quiet day; peace and quiet to write this column (and people wonder why I normally get up so early in the morning!), of paper shuffling,  writing and starting ‘load music on my iPOD process’ – perfect, if quiet and privacy were available.

 

Why can’t I have some?  I’ve worked hard all year. I’ve been a good lad.  I’ve been socially appropriate throughout the holiday season. I’ve done most of my chores in a mostly timely fashion.  I don’t want a lot.  I’d like some quit.  This morning, supposedly my quiet ‘leave me alone’ day isn’t getting off to a great start; if it’s not the washing machine, it’s the dryer, or someone feeding a cat or spilling coffee or talking so loud on the phone the conversation migrates. Wait, there’s more.

 

Surely, I must be overtired, unreasonable, picky, and have a stick up my butt about something else (I do); surely others would not get annoyed by these things.  I must be such an unreasonable person, dare I complain?  To whom?  Isn’t that an argument starter (opposite of peaceful and quiet).  Alternatives include double homicide, moving, headphones, or to make competing loud noises.

 

C’mon Mark, you’re being unreasonable.  Sit down, talk about it. I went to the space next door, where PB was ‘cleaning up’; I explained my dilemma. She said ‘you’re not happy’. True, but that’s a different discussion. She answered with a two hour period this afternoon when peace would be available, she’ll be out, so will Sara.

 

I didn’t ask if she could take the washer, the dryer, the robo-vacuum and all her phones with her.  That might be too much to ask. 

 

Getting ticked over minor disturbances of concentration, say 10+ in any 30 minute period, is a justifiable defense for homicide in some countries, isn’t it?  Little things are no doubt symptoms of bigger ticks.  Yes, but c’mon, is a few minutes of silence too much to ask?

 

The dogs and cats seem to understand the concept, they’ve not troubled me at all today.

 

So why doesn’t this house get it?  I’m begging y’all, for just a few minutes of quiet.  I’m on the verge of buying silencing head- phones or a double-barreled shotgun, and I’m feeling like the shotgun is going to be my weapon of choice. Appliances be warned.

 

I tried turning my music on, and then up, to the highest level - way beyond what I could stand - just to make the point . . but no person or appliance was listening, in fact the damn dryer drowned out my music. 

 

I turned it off.  It was too noisy. I went to the bathroom; surely I could read in quiet privacy there …. but the robo-vac was above me, cleaning the kitchen floor for the second time in two days.  I finished my business. Went back to my desk. The rob-vac was now in the living room above me, cleaning those carpets for the second time in two days.

 

It’s the appliances and the two legged critters who press their buttons.  Washers, dryers, robo-vacuum cleaners, phone (people have to talk louder when the machines are going) conversations wafting down, trips to load the washer, load the dryer, feed the cat, pet the dog, take my coffee, spill said coffee, move things around . . etc., repeat, repeat, repeat, to the point I can’t savor the two minutes of relative calm (only the sound of washer + dryer) going . . because I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.  The hoof-beats (actually feet of lightweight people thinking they are moving around silently).  I tried . .

 

Ahh . . the dryer stopped.   … but then the washing machine went to rinse cycle.  Then it beeped, like a forklift ready to back up, again.  Then it stopped. Gurgles, starts again. Now it’s whirring up to jet engine take-off speed.

 

Wait … a moment of silence. Can it be?  Has silence arrived?  How long will it last?

 

I went over to check the lights/buttons . . everything seemed to be off; then the dam thing beeped at me – the signal to say, ‘I’m done!’

 

Then the furnace fan kicked in.  It’s winter. I best get over it.  Or, maybe next Christmas, I’ll ask for a set of those Bose silencing head-phones.

 

Meanwhile, does anyone have a number for 1-800 shotgun …?

 

Finally, I’m done.

 

Mark Kolke

325,932

198.7

 

 

RESPONSES/COMMENTS ALWAYS WELCOME; send to musing@maxcomm.ca

 

 

December 26  Responses  

 

December 26 – SUM OF OUR CHOICES – Thank you Mark for sharing your writings with us, I feel like we are friends. Merry Christmas to you from Sedona, AZ, PT

 

December 26 – SUM OF OUR CHOICES - Best Wishes, Mark, For holiday season time with your family and friends.  For 2010, I wish you all the "magic" spirit that is needed to keep you writing from the soul through the next year.  And the next. And the next. etc., LAR, Winnipeg, MAN

 

December 25 – Hallelujah for WE all – And may I add, May 2010 be the year when people truly learn that addiction is a disease and that addicts need treatment, compassion and understanding and  not punishment. May we all strive to be more tolerant and may our hearts be filled with understanding, SM, Palm Bay, FL. 

SUM OF OUR CHOICES - Mark’s Musing Saturday Dec. 26, 2009

today’s Musing  written and published from south Calgary, near Fish Creek Park

 

Morning walk: -13C/8F, clear, morning sun quietly lit the alley path by the school; Gusta appreciated the change of pace, and place, to sniff fresh tracks and trash cans in day light – as though she could see the world through a fresh lens.

 

Full day yesterday; gift opening pandemonium, breakfast/brunch pandemonium, dinner slightly subdued; food, food, food. Another gathering this evening, mostly same folks, same conversations, different location, different food. Oh joy, more food.

 

Thanks for greetings yesterday: to MD, the k.d. lang’s cover version IS markedly better than Cohen’s (who knew?); to CB, thanks, welcome back; to FO, you stun me with your words.

 

This day, for putting things away, cleaning up, trying on new socks and clipping toenails, pulling off tags and bagging trash. For munching chocolate, oranges and picking at leftovers. Day after Christmas (in Britain and Canada) is Boxing Day, named for days of old when old  friends visited old friends at each other’s old houses, bringing boxes of gifts (since replaced by re-gifting).  For many this tradition has evolved to ‘visit mall for first crack at après-Christmas sales, and bring those boxes home’, or for exchanging gifts, because some of our choices just don’t work out.

 

Listening to Susan Boyle’s version of ‘I Dreamed A Dream’ (from Les Miserables), always gets blood pumping – imagining student revolutionaries, giving all to achieve it.

 

Kahlil Gibran wrote: “We choose our joys and sorrows long before we experience them.” He meant, I think, the result was determined long ago, when a choice was made?  Hmmm??

 

Though I know I’ve done it my share of times, I cannot, today, imagine compromising to achieve a dream; navigating, yes, but not compromising.

 

Often we coast, compromise, getting-on or along, abdicating responsibility to make choice, to own the results; and then, to tote up the sum of our choices (yikes). Perhaps I’ll pause - I’ll tote them up in a few more years. 

 

Richard Bach summed up this wrestle well: “Some choices we live not only once but a thousand times over, remembering them for the rest of our lives.”

 

These are the choices we need: hard ones because they remind us who we are and what we’ve come through; choices we must remember, the regret ones, so we’ll guard against making those mistakes again; best ones . . ones, once made, we celebrate as the best things we’ve done.  We all have some of these choices

 

And, we’ll go right on making new mistakes, new choices, new successes. And I’ll write.  I write, as I do most days. To keep from going mad.

 

Lull between storms of activity; lull of quiet reflections, of a life worth living.  Everyone needs an outlet, some work-out or to kick something; some vent, some scream or drink or do destructive messy things.  Some work frenetically at mindless escapes.

 

I write.

 

Silent contradictions of mankind cannot be solved – we can only work out some of those for ourselves; sometimes, when I am wise or incalculably fortunate, I write something of value to someone – and sometimes, many times, the lone someone is me. 

 

As often, I fail. Communication failure doesn’t mean we’re failures, it simply means we’ve not got our message across to the party(s) we’ve communicated with in such a way that we know they got the message we were sending, and that they’ve confirmed in some form of acknowledgment. Then we know - message was clearly, unambiguously and effectively conveyed.

 

Two things happen, in my experience, a lot of the time when communication doesn’t work, we’ve sent a message which is not clear and then we get concerned when someone doesn’t get it.  The converse, when someone is sending us a message, do we get it?  This is not some trick in communication-speak, it is real, every day, it is what we do when we have – as the late Strother Martin delivered so classically in the movie Cool Hand Luke: ‘what we’ve got here, is a failure to communicate’.  Clearly, it is clear, is it not?  If so, why do we get it wrong, why do we fail to understand one another? Or, is the message clear but the acceptance unwilling?

 

The message is clear, isn’t it?  The one we sent.  The one we received.  Sent.  Received.  Sent.  Received. Over, and over.

 

There are times I want to be in the thick of heavy conversation, effectively communicating ideas and feelings – and there are times my only wish is to be curled up on a couch on porch, watching stars twinkle, living my dream, dreaming my life stress-less-ly.  Can I do both?

 

My hero, Don Quixote’s author, Cervantes, said ‘I know who I am and how I may be, if I choose.’

 

I choose.

 

Mark Kolke

325,956

197.4

 

RESPONSES/COMMENTS ALWAYS WELCOME; send to musing@maxcomm.ca

 

 

 

December 25  Responses  

 

December 24 – Hallelujah for WE all – Merry Christmas, Mark.  I've followed Musings each morning here and an aware that you seem to have arrived at a very good place.  I am so happy for you... Will be back in Calgary about midnight tonight. Wishing us all happiness to all of us in the year ahead, CB, Calgary/ Cincinnati , OH

 

December 24 – Hallelujah for WE all - Wonderful post, Mark. Isn't the Cohen version of Hallelujah grand? When k.d. lang sings it, I listen over and over.

To your list I would add:

Anyone who has lost someone this year to any illness, disease, accident, or other tragedy. There are so many, too many, of us in this category.

Anyone imprisoned, by law or not. Prisons are too full of those who took a wrong path or took the right path but were jailed for their advocacies, or were enslaved through no fault of their own.
Anyone who has been "disappeared" and never found, MD, Arlington, VA

 

December 24 – Hallelujah for WE all - This morning I  read your words again of that day and again fat warm tears fall down my face, filled with life's sweet joy of love and loss. It was not her tears which moved me, it was your understanding of the universal her and of me, the individual. It was how well you knew me and we haven't even met, FO, Kaunakakai, HI

 

Hallelujah for WE all - Mark’s Musing Friday Dec. 25, 2009

today’s Musing  written and published from south Calgary, near Fish Creek Park

 

Morning walk: -14C/6F, clear, Gusta and I ran the alley …. lots of lights indicate wrapping paper is being ripped in many houses; I’m taking her (and her hair to which some small children are allergic) over to my dad’s for the morning so she will miss the ‘soon to descend upon us’ flock of folks (PB’s family) for Christmas morning ritual.

 

Merry Christmas, everyone, and Hallelujah - [Hallelujah, is a Hebrew word, exclamation used chiefly in songs of praise, expression of gratitude or adoration]

 

“I heard the bells on Christmas Day, their old familiar carols play, and wild and sweet the word repeat of peace on earth, good-will to men!” – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

 

When I transcribed this I miss-typed it as ‘peach on earth’ . . I liked that idea.

 

Notion or some fairy tale; long ago, far away – inexorably drawn - they saw more than a babe, a ready present for the world. It caught on. Has yet to catch everyone; so many don’t celebrate Christmas, but no other group, religious or otherwise, unites so many in spirit, to throw such a party that children of all ages can’t wait to get out of bed.  No magic potion, perfection wrapped under tree or stuffed in stocking – an occasion when being loved means far less than having someone to give yours to.  For celebrating, laughing, saying we want the world to be all it can be, just for WE all, day of gratitude, or adoration. 

 

Important, I believe, to pause for those who aren’t having that kind of day. I made a list, checked it twice, not naughty or nice; easily glossed over, oft forgot, we laugh and play while they don’t. Let me know who I missed. Amid celebration, jubilation, children, laugher and love – our focus today – with safety and warmth in our homes, I'll think of you today - all day; you are the reasons we all can have joy in our lives; unexpected treat Santa brought you early this year, for us to benefit from every day, just for WE all:

 

Anyone anywhere whose turn it is to work today.

Anyone at home – tucked in bed – feeling ill, feeling sad or feeling blue.

Anyone alone today – their solitude - imposed or chosen, awes me.

Doctors, nurses and staff at hospitals – tending, mending – births, deaths, injuries.

First nation’s peoples – on reservations and off – they live among us, but not with us.

First responders – fire, ambulance, police, city staff - standing by.

Homeless people – some hopeless too – sad, alone, set aside.

Men and women - fighting for our country, for some country, somewhere - in harms way.

Persons with disabilities – from slight to profound, complex – undervalued, under utilized.

 

Merry Christmas, peace and good-will to you all, and to them; I give you this very non sectarian and very Canadian song HALLELUJAH by Leonard Cohen; for WE all, I give you my adoration and praise. May all you’ve dreamed and wished for come true. 

 

I remember writing on October 24; a beach walk on Maui, I saw a sight worth noting that moved me. Among other things that day, I wrote: “We each know what we want, so we think, an understanding of what brings us joy, fears, tears; we each know what makes us happy, what leaves us feeling sad or empty - what makes us let our emotions flow.  Any day, any of us could be standing there, flowing tears and nobody would know why.  Most would walk by, not a care, unable to react - they have their own tears to  cry. Understanding what we want (you, me, us), and how we go about getting it, is something that interests me both in terms of understanding others - and in understanding myself. To be here, and to be without inspiration, is something I cannot imagine; to be here and to be without joy is hard to imagine.  I imagine, for me at least and maybe too for that woman on the beach today - to look out to sea, to see life, to see ourselves, to stand on a beach bathed in tears is probably more about joy than pain, more about open heart than open mind. What I need is found here. I know it.”

 

Revelations, however they come – on a beach or on a cold winter’s night – bring change,  bring joy, focus our vision and renew our purpose – for all of this, I say HALLELUJAH.

 

Mark Kolke

325,980

195.2

 

 

 

 

 

RESPONSES/COMMENTS ALWAYS WELCOME; send to musing@maxcomm.ca

 

 

December 24  Responses  

 

December 24 – DEAR SANTA – Mark thanks for taking time with this piece. I think your Christmas wishes will come true, and the world is at a better place, I hope, when we are becoming who we are meant to be.  Peace. Regards, KC, Calgary, AB

 

December 24 – DEAR SANTA - Powerful post today Mark. Well worth the wait!  I believe we are best to create a world of abundance around us – only then can we share without fear, or regret, or hesitation. When we are feeling fulfilled, like the gate is open and we can come and go at will, then we are creating a world that reflects our beauty – and thus, creating a world of beauty for everyone to share. May your Christmas be merry and bright. May the New Year be filled with gates opening up onto unexpected horizons waiting to be explored, LG, Calgary, AB

 

December 24 – DEAR SANTA - A masterpiece today! I especially like your letter to Santa. Also, I do not believe in selflessness except in situations where you must risk your life to help someone survive. Ayn Rand develops the idea of rational self-interest very well, where if you thereby produce something useful to mankind (and this is one of the things that is meant by rational) you are living to your highest potential, and will be rewarded. The wiser members of the herd understand this, EG, Calgary, AB

 

December 24 – DEAR SANTA - Your "raison d’etre" is before you...just after the milk and cookies.  The heart of a man describes who he "IS", Your "gate" describes a movement away from the familiar and safe into the unknown. It requires trust.  It requires you to have enough of it to step out of the boat and walk on water.  It requires that first step, LP, Wailuku, HI

 

December 24 – DEAR SANTA - May all your wishes, for yourself and for others, come true. I think Santa "gets it". Merry Christmas. Much success in the New Year. MD, Arlington, VA USA

 

December 24 – DEAR SANTA –  "some days if I know the answer, I wonder if I've misunderstood the question" … great, great thought, line, words.  I hope you get what you've asked for this Christmas, this year too. (your  Santa list looks an awful lot like mine). very thoughtful column. When doing good for ourselves is good (eventually) for others, then our wishes coming true is a fabulous gift.  As you said, pain and discomfort, can be paths towards growth and greater happiness.  They always have been for me, (yet I still fight to avoid pain and discomfort when possible), FO, Kaunakakai, HI

DEAR SANTA - Mark’s Musing Thursday Dec. 24, 2009

today’s Musing  written and published from south Calgary, near Fish Creek Park

 

Morning walk: -20C/-4F, cold, wind chill, clear, prediction of warmer days ahead, city moving at half-speed, few people working (or planning to) today; Gusta chasing rabbit candy as she loped down the alley route, packing snow into her webbing, dragging her snout and coat in the whiteness – little traffic, or noise, rabbits and magpies witness but don’t scatter, they see we are wise and knowing, they make a path for us to travel without impediment or delay.

 

I took more time with today’s column because I felt it needed more time. I think it is one of the most important statements of where I am at that I’ve articulated in a while, and it is represents my hopefulness for all my readers, friends and family at Christmas time, but also, and firstly, for myself.  I got up early, wrote most of this piece after I got back from the gym (virtually empty this morning), warming up, caffeine loading  - before taking Gusta out, then finished it (sometimes no amount of polishing seems enough . . sometimes the most important step of all is to ‘hit send’), and here it is:

 

“The truth is that our finest moments are most likely to occur when we are feeling deeply uncomfortable, unhappy, or unfulfilled. For it is only in such moments, propelled by our discomfort, that we are likely to step out of our ruts and start searching for different ways or truer answers.” .. M. Scott Peck

 

Truer answers?  Not black, or white, not true or untrue?  Truer.

 

 Sounds like shades of gray and dark gray to me.  Maybe it should be shades of white and bright white, but for now it seems more gray. So, what is life?   Why is it good?   Which is better; to manage/maximize success or to weather the storm of pain or failure?  The answers are not next to the crossword solution on Page F9, nor are they blowin’ in the wind.  Some days, I wonder, if I feel I know the answer, maybe that means I’ve misunderstood the question.

 

Feeling good is good. Doing for someone we care about is good.   Taking care of our needs, and needs of others, is worthy work.  Playing fair, having fun, living well, loving well, dreaming well, wishing well …. these are good things.  So too is struggling against a challenge, overcoming an adversary, struggling to break free/out of restraints on our spirit. 

 

I read news stories – perhaps it’s the time of year – recounting examples of how great adversity has been overcome or coped with by people enduring unimaginable events …. as I flip through a newspaper that, at the same time, chronicles success, excess and largesse as meritorious while shilling – with half-off sales and politic/media-speak.  Compared to the challenges of others, my wish-list seems petty, small, selfish, unreasonable in its demands (requests) …. but they are no less real for me.

 

I’ve been pondering this time, not as year-end review or next-year forecast, but as though I am standing at a gate.   Right in front of me, no latch on it, just a creaky hinge – perhaps to make noise as I go through it – fair warning to all and notice to me that this is a pivotal moment; this is going forward, no going back. Going forward, no regret. Going forward . . .

 

But what?  Does going through this gate have to be painful?  Anguished?  Hurtful to me, or to anyone?  In theory, it shouldn’t.  In reality, I’m not so sure.  Much thought has been dedicated to this issue lately.  Maybe, if reduced to simple components, simple decisions, simple steps, sequential steps, stepping through this gate will be easier. Step. Another step. Then another.

 

An ordinary sort of gate; leading up to it, a path I’ve traveled for 58 largely content and fulfilled years (this favorable view is not truth … but it sounds nice, doesn’t it?); so much time wasted, used up, tossed aside or squandered (youth IS wasted on the young), issues, people and projects which, in retrospect neither warranted the time, the effort or the best of me (though I question whether I gave the ‘best’ of me to much of it…but I digress).

 

At this gate, the path on the other side leads somewhere; I believe it is a future path. It too will be littered with things that don’t work, time squandered – but I think much less will be wasted.  Not because experience makes me a better choice-maker (though it should) but because there is a greater sense of purpose on that path, because I better understand my raison d'être – a phrase we’ve borrowed from the French – which means "reason for being"; in English, it suggests a rationalization - "the claimed reason for the existence of something or someone".

 

~~~~

 

DEAR SANTA/calling out to the universe/to the north pole, to Maui, to Calgary . . and all points in between:  what I want for Christmas is to walk through that gate, to step boldly and confidently into the path on the other side; what I want is to walk in sunshine, rise and sleep under a starry sky, be warm, be well, live in paradise, have difficult and worthy things to do, to write something important every day; I want pleasures of the flesh and of the mind, I want to work hard and eat well, I want to live and love with integrity, I want to give and get all that I want and, as those doctors swear, ‘do no harm’ in the process.  Santa, I’ll give you all the milk and cookies in the world if you’ll grant my wishes. I don’t think I’m a bad little boy for having this Christmas list that is so ‘me’ focused.  I really do want things for others too.  I want to help someone. I want to be useful to someone. I want to see someone else feel good because of what I’ve done. I expect to make mistakes, but not regrets - to find ways, but not excuses, to hold on, but not hold back. I want to be ready, whether or not I am always able, to give time and effort. I want someone else’s hurts, dreams, wishes and wants made better and fulfilled by my actions. I care about the poor, the homeless, the bereaved, the lost, the forgotten, OK? .. So, can my wishes be not just about me, but about someone else too? 

 

~~~~

 

Life is what we make it.  When we do something worthy of our talents and capabilities that benefits someone other than ourselves, I believe that is good.  I’m not selfless. I’m not.  So much of Dear Santa ‘wishes list’ is about ourselves (sorry if I’ve lumped all of you in with me, but I think I’m not the only one interested in ME or WE) wanting what makes us feel good, pleases us, pleasures us, is good, feels good . . therefore, it must be good. Right?

 

It would be so nice, I suppose, at this time of year especially, to claim motivation for doing things is for the benefit of some poor unfortunate person or group, for society, or for the world.  But it’s not. Most of my motivation is entirely self-serving.  By that, I don’t mean ‘greed is good’, but rather …. doing well by ourselves and those we care about is OK, has merit.  Wishing for what we want, because we want it and belief these things and actions will bring us pleasure, or do some good (for others, the world etc.), that our ‘feeling so great about what we are doing, and how we are doing it’ has merit and that some might rub off on others, help others, inspire others.  Or just to bask in it, feeling ‘these gifts make me feel fantastically improbably fortunate and luckier than all others on the planet’ ..

 

Please Santa … consider my request.

 

Mark Kolke

326,004

195.3

 

 

RESPONSES/COMMENTS ALWAYS WELCOME; send to musing@maxcomm.ca

 

 

December 23  Responses  

 

December 23 – SHE ALWAYS HAS UP-TIME FOR ME – Amen mister!  Loved your closing paragraph to Gusta.  We have two 8 month old puppies and although they may sometimes frustrate us, 99.999% of the time they do nothing but bring us joy, laughter and unconditional love.  Sans any technology we have connected with them in a way that only another animal lover could relate to.  Best wishes to you and your entire family (humans and animals alike) for a cool yule and a Happy New Year, MW, Calgary, AB

 

December 23 – SHE ALWAYS HAS UP-TIME FOR ME – I am so impressed with your love & attention you give Gusta, she's a very luck girl to have you in her life.  Have a very Merry Christmas with your family & extended family.  All the best in 2010. Dogs are one of my most favorite "people".  Even though I've never met Gusta give her a big hug from me., MC, Rural Alberta 

 

December 23 – SHE ALWAYS HAS UP-TIME FOR ME – Delightful post today, Mark. The homage to Gusta is touching, the way I feel about my "boys", the Westies Jack and Seamus. They are my re-booter. So much better to be linked-in with them, though I do enjoy the touch of my human honey. It's a daily joy to read your columns. Merry Christmas!, MD, Arlington, VA

 

December 23 – SHE ALWAYS HAS UP-TIME FOR ME-  Best Wishes, Mark, For holiday season time with your family and friends.  For 2010, I wish you all the "magic" spirit that is needed to keep you writing from the soul through the next year. And the next. And the next. etc., LAR, Winnipeg, Man.

 

December 23 – SHE ALWAYS HAS UP-TIME FOR ME-  It sounds cliched I know, but we were supposed to be "set free" by technology. We have been enslaved. The "friends' we accumulate on social networks are not  friends. They emphasize the unfortunate truth: we are really lonely. We crave the touch of something real - like your Gusta - and instead we get ersatz friendship  Just to see what would happen, I joined Facebook. I regularly get emails from people wanting to be my "friend." I have no idea who they are. Worse, they have no idea who I am. An entire generation held in thrall by their Ipods and Blackberries and IPhones are either hot-wired to music uninterrupted by reality, or hooked on a tiny screen with it's small shred of communication. No matter how often we text message, we are still alone. Facebook notwithstanding, we are prisoners. No one smells the roses anymore. They don't even know that there are roses, LS, Toronto, ON

SHE ALWAYS HAS UP-TIME FOR ME - Mark’s Musing Wednesday Dec. 23, 2009

today’s Musing  written and published from south Calgary, near Fish Creek Park

 

Morning walk: -21C/-6F, a late walk (see story below), a few clouds, fresh snow to clog Gusta’s paws …. and just enough wind chill to make me rush back once her business was done.

 

Alone time, down time, quiet time, are so important when it is our choice.  When it is someone else’s choice, or an equipment malfunction – that’s a different matter. Most days, whether we are near or far from one another, we need to rely on technology to make connections complete; oh joy .. I’m connected, to so many people. So many websites. So many services. I start and end my day, connected.  Like thousands of connected finger tips … just in my circle … and millions, soon billions, worldwide who connect to their world, work, friends, lovers, business, banking, shopping and shipping – all with a click. This is great.

 

When it works.

 

People, when they are together, don’t need technology to connect.  We need other skills for that.  We touch. We talk. We call each other by name.  We kill rodents. We paint things. We rake and shovel things.  We shake hands. We hug in airports.  We walk dogs. We go to bed together. We wake up together. We work together. We laugh and play together. We have things in common. We don’t need technology, much, for those things.

 

Reliance on technology; we all do it, blissfully unaffected, until our one little machine, item, software or tool doesn’t work the way we expected. Waking up without the lights, or heat, or water working …. things that hardly every happen would be just as challenging and more significant. We take them all for granted. 

 

All was not lost.  TV works, phone (the one I was on hold with) was working; all three fed from one supplier’s line. Its called bundling.  A good deal for the customer, unless there is an outage, then I risk losing service on all three. (memories of so many lectures from Warren about the wisdom of redundancy ring in my mind). Modem lights, all green except for flashing yellow one (supposed to be flashing). I tried ‘Diagnose Connection Problems’ function on my computer. Checking connectivity.  None.  Rebooted, again, again, again. I dug out help desk number.  Forty minutes later, still with music on hold (rather good actually) interrupted by ‘busy serving other customers’ recorded script; my call would be answered, in the order in which it is received. Sure.

 

I made coffee.

 

Was I subject to an outage?  How would I know; or having some other problem on a very busy ‘help desk’ day?  Holding for the next available service representative, how long can it take – to tell someone the system is down? They’ll get to me eventually, won’t they?  Or at least play an informative recording at the next interruption of this great orchestra I’m listening to.  Then, again ‘Please remain on the line. Your call will be answered in the order in which it was received.’  And again. And again. I tried opening a browser, just in case service had been restored while I’ve been on hold.  Nope.

 

Time to walk the dog, read the paper, make some breakfast.  But, if I leave the phone ‘just listening’ and come back later, will I still be ‘on hold’?

 

Coffee is great. Hot.  Perfect for this crazy-makin’ exercise.  Just the other day, I was thinking, smugly – on hearing Blackberry users had disruptions/outages – that problems with my email recently were minor; I remember thinking, just yesterday, ‘wow . . it’s been such a long time since my service provider has been down’ ….

 

Music interrupted again, another recording; are those recordings coming more frequently now?  Does that mean anything?

 

I wondered, at any moment, how many people on the planet are ‘on hold’ – calling 1-800 numbers to find out where the missing ‘4 inch heavy duty London style pointing trowel w/archaeology holster’ has gone or other seasonal questions … just how many people are on hold like me? Does the world have enough coffee for this every day?

 

And, I needed to walk the dog.  What should I do?  I could put down the headset, leaving the line open.  I tried opening a browser window, again, no luck.  At this point, though a non-believer, I’ll take luck.  None.

 

Hold it .. I then got a DIFFERENT recorded message, being transferred to ‘internet support department’ .. ‘please hold’; it was ringing, then a nice young fellow explained there have been outages affecting most of southern Alberta this morning, that the problem would be solved soon.  I opened a browser, and there it was - internet – I checked email; I checked the weather.  I checked my websites.  Oh joy .. I’m connected.

 

Now I could walk Gusta.  I checked the online weather service. Brrr.

 

It seems there is no technology on a dog; no wires, chips, dongles to connect, no software interface. She doesn’t have to be re-booted or have a browser window opened, she doesn’t need connection time or to measure the quality of her attention in baud, bit or byte.  Just romping, playing in the snow – keeping her master from going crazy - wagging her tail (her entire body actually), like a monster furry sausage with a hinge in the middle. She’s happy to see me, any time of day. She’s never down, she always has up-time for me.

 

Gusta, you don't drive me crazy like my computer glitches, but, being crazy about you, I can only imagine that not being with you would make me the worst kind of crazy. I'm crazy about you . . in the most soft, stable and sane way I know. I love you . . without hesitation or reservation and know that love is returned the same way.  I am daily amazed by you, by your heart, by your caring for me and your easy way of being . . so much to learn from you beyond being happy without a technology requirement.

 

Mark Kolke

326,028

196.4

 

 

RESPONSES/COMMENTS ALWAYS WELCOME; send to musing@maxcomm.ca

 

December 22  Responses  

 

December 22 – ONE BY ONE, DAYS INCH BY – Thanks for including the pictures of your children and father…those will be the most precious memories of this Christmas by far!  SR, Calgary, AB

 

December 22 – ONE BY ONE, DAYS INCH BY – re: Photo in today's musings - The only image I ever had of you in my head was the photo on your website with arms crossed.  That image never jived with the person who could open his soul daily to allow others to pick and choose what we needed at that time on our journeys - miles and miles away.  I never look at the package a person is wrapped in , cause the "wrapping paper" sags, stretches or bunches up over the years.  Somehow the photo today has moved back into synch with the image I want to "see" when I think of the "body" in Calgary allowing the rest of us to share his words while he "explains himself". (Its the "open-ness" in the eyes.)  Few people can allow themselves to do what you do daily and as always, I appreciate the ideas you toss out for thought.  The next act in the play.....the next page turned in the story.  Today I have the time to be able to read your words shortly after they are written, not days later like usual as I try to catch up with the important things in my life. ( Even though I know that  the important things in Life, are not Things.) Thats because I packed up my desk yesterday from a 5 year period in my journey and will start Feb 1 sharing my days with a group of 20+ engineers and technologists who I will be "Managing".  I don't think of it as "managing"......I think of it as sharing, learning together.  Walking on the same route for part of Journey through Life.  Thank God for online communication that allows souls to collide in the universe when in the real world existence, the bodies would most likely never be occupying the same room, LAR, Winnipeg, Man

 

December 22 – ONE BY ONE, DAYS INCH BY - With Christmas so close, I'm sure that you're as crazy as I am with shopping, traffic gridlock, and getting ready for the holidays. I hope you get a chance to take a step back, relax for a few days, and enjoy all that the holidays have to offer. Please extend my best wishes to your family, and I hope you have an amazing 2010.  Happy holidays!, JC, Edmonton, AB

ONE BY ONE, DAYS INCH BY - Mark’s Musing Tuesday Dec. 22, 2009

today’s Musing  written and published from south Calgary, near Fish Creek Park

 

Morning walk: -14C/6F, light fresh snow, a soft blanket to comfort everyone and everything is coated in this layer of winter … Gusta rumbled down the alley just to keep the rabbits honest, this air in nostrils invigorates .. so much that I actually enjoyed shoveling the driveway.

 

Arthur Miller and Bertolt Brecht need not wake up, David Mamet need not worry that I’ll infringe on his market . . but I have a play in my head.  It is not obscure, it can be found; not hidden in these lines, it is here in plain sight, right here for you, message for you to see, with eyes wide open; you can see it can’t you?

 

Explaining ‘why’ of it. Looking at life, imagining future – turning each page to what happens next; gobbling this thriller, racing through speed-learning characters, to follow them experiencing twists and leaping obstacles, someone hurts, someone laughs, someone coughs in the 2^nd row, a chair shuffles at the back – we are all looking for mind-affecting experience through this suspension of the suspension of our disbelief to arrive at a real place, a real feeling, there we stand, at the happy spot, THE END.

 

The next act in this play, I’ll savor early in the new year – some drama, eyes wide open; remind myself the timing has nothing to do with my impatient desire to get on with a life that can be all that any of us imagine. Imagine. Imagine it.  Soon.

 

I’m working on my acceptance of this reality.  Characters in life or story, flawed – normal flawed – nothing to frighten, not predictable; split screen play, perhaps three acts, bouncing back, and forth, between two scenes (a pool deck somewhere warm, my desk here close the coffee pot); sign posts and music interrupt story to unsettle the audience …. alter flow, facilitate idea collisions, uncomfort, ecstasy – this play unfolds before our eyes.

 

Days inch, by, one by one, step, another step, imagination wanders to what it might be like without ‘this play’ in my life.  I cannot imagine the darkness of the canyon I would know without this. This is my life now. It changed.  I was watching, with eyes wide open. It changed, in front of me while I was watching. I’m no observer. I’m the writer, producer, director, stage manager … and I’m standing out there on the stage, alone, but knowing there will be other players to grace the stage because I write the play.  But do we ever write our own play?  Do we need co-authors?  Could we create anything this good alone, without them?  Ideas need work, collaboration, need to be chopped and sliced, then run through the grinder . . .

 

Curtain up.

 

Explaining why of it, with eyes wide open - I write, from far distance, to draw you close – closer – up close to be seen, each other’s mirror, in the next lane, on the ramp or coming to visit.  Truth and reality mix, on tongue, flavors, this brew of uncertain strength; but with eyes wide open, we look out each day, at little beyond distance that separates.

 

Not everything in life is ever exactly the way I want it, especially right now; I have hope this illogical, improbable irrational train of thought will be an on-time arrival; every day wrestling with facts, determinations of things I cannot control (so often they look like ones I can), get in the way, clearly seeing ones I can change is fuzzier late in the day. Overnight always brings fresh words to describe the un-describable; but words can’t describe what eyes feel, what my ears can see. If knees can jerk or a heart can feel, why can’t my fingertips believe, they’ll touch my future, my dream, my love of life?

 

I had a great ‘catch up’ lunch with MK yesterday; somewhere between second helpings, smoked salmon and key lime pie, past routine pleasantries, industry gossip/news and name-dropping - we moved paths; where blocks are laid, foundation of friendship, where ideas are shared and feeling exposed. Men, in our society, aren’t accustomed to doing this – it feels strange but healthy.  Like many things, we learn easy stuff slowly; but for the tougher stuff, we learn best when there is no comfort zone, no safety net, no rules, all risks.

 

Explaining myself – you probably have these challenges – to anyone other than myself, is like talking to someone I’ve never met, someone far away, someone far and away the best friend one could ever want; sometimes a stranger on the next golf cart, or a voice in wilderness in the middle of nowhere, calling out from over there.

 

Scene change, sunrise reveals colors beyond description. 

 

Looking at my life, pages turn slowly, this impossible improbability on one hand, predictable calm on opposite page; story line is mine, we make it up as the story moves along – what will happen next, which characters slide through this story, which ones stay for life?  Scene changes don’t change integral nature of characters, but, like the weather, are always subject to change at the whim of the writers.

 

Intermission.

 

This is the best thing I’ve written today.  Day just beginning here; there will be more of this day before it moves again to silent night … there will be so much more.

 

Mark Kolke

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RESPONSES/COMMENTS ALWAYS WELCOME; send to musing@maxcomm.ca

 

 

December 21  Responses  

 

December 21 – EDGE OF EXCEPTIONAL – I have a big family and I can’t wait for Friday.  We will laugh and laugh some more at the blatant truths we will say to each other.  Then we will play Guesstures, the men against the women.  I will leave with no voice, due to the games and laughter, exhausted and full.  I love family, KH, Stuart, FL

 

December 21 – EDGE OF EXCEPTIONAL – Where are the photos?, SH, New York, NY   ….. Thanks so much for sharing!

 

December 21 – EDGE OF EXCEPTIONAL – Your musings was warm and wonderful. I believe you are right, we judge decisions and actions less on their intrinsic merit than on how everything looks in the rear view mirror.  I wonder what the view will be?, EC, Chicago, IL