Thanksgiving Day 2006

Most of the time, when I think of thanksgiving days I usually remember the first one on my own living in Jersey. I was broke and lonely as usual and I begged Shiloh to let me crash his dinner at his father’s house. He obliged me; but I think that his father was none too happy about it.

But generally that is the first one I think about…when I say, Wow, its Thanksgiving Day… There are plenty others… especially one of my first trips up here and we had Slim Jims and pork rinds as we romped through parks and trails hiking all day...

Thanksgiving has generally been a good day. Maybe one or two uncomfortable days…and some I wish I could do over…but most of the time…know what I mean?

I think I remember the Thanksgiving I had at Shiloh’s first because it was one of those times when the spirit of the day filled me up more than the food. I knew I was intruding but it was one of those days I couldn’t be alone, not at that time. It was the beginning of me being tested, getting my character together…I was young…and I had nobody but Shiloh on my side and everything up to that point had gone against me…luck had seriously run out.

Do you remember those good old days’s Shiloh?

Its Thanksgiving morning right about 7 am, normally I’m at work doing my thing. This has been an upside down year, yes it has. Every year we are tested and asked to prove who we are… most years I thought that I won most of my battles, now that criteria has changed. I no longer feel that winning means being right, I think that it means making things right.

Generally when we come to that conclusion we have been on the losing side too often I hope that isn’t the case now… I just want it to mean something more than winning…I want something to result from it.

I could line up thousands of reasons for everything I have ever done, couldn’t you? Justify the world’s end…

we are a proud nation…we say…we are a proud people…we say…so proud we are never wrong…so proud we can not look at our actions and realize that we hurt people by the things we might say and or do…our place in the world is far too important to deal with such petty ideas such as the consequence of our actions…we emulate that as a public in our personal lives.

I am filled by both grief for my mistakes and their consequences and for the friends and family that are not sharing my life anymore and thankful for the wonderful life I am having, one that if I found that kid from Jersey and told him what it would be like, he’d tell me I was crazy. He’d say it wouldn’t happen.

What I always ask for is Hope and what I try to work to is Grace.

We talk a fair game but don’t play that card enough. In a world so filled with hate and prejudice about our friends, our families and what we see around us…with thankfulness comes forgiveness. I hope in my world I am forgiven…I hope I have shown the grace to forgive…

So ~ Happy Thanksgiving!!! I hope I get a chance to talk to everyone today…and I hope Tampa Bay beats Dallas…in their Thanksgiving Day debut.

My love goes out to everyone…even my enemies…Godspeed!!!

Songbirds

Lately…I’ve been talking about inspiration…sometimes searching for inspiration…and becoming surprised when I allow myself to become indulging.

It has been long and bitter; my arguments with inspiration. I went full tilt for nearly fifteen years pouring over the philosophy I was attempting to put together.

And then all of a sudden I slammed on the breaks. Circumstances in my life polarized my instincts. I wanted it to be that way. I wanted nothing to do with it. I defected… as I was noted for saying at that time.

It was piercing… when the hammer fell.

I’ve enjoyed the sabbatical. I’ve still had to fight several battles but I think that what I have accomplished is more than I ever did previously. I have something more for myself then when I first started.

I’m speaking in generalities… but what is important is that I have never completely allowed myself to stop. I’ve been working on a collection of poetry for a few years now…I hope to finish it sooner rather than later.

I’ve picked up politics as a philosophy over the years because it is a common language that one way or another, most people can speak. Even the vendors in Mexico will tell you ‘no hurry, the oppressors are up ahead’.

I have written about God, existentialism, communitarianism… and learning what is most important about our selves, what we have discussed with ourselves when we close our eyes to sleep.

But what am I to write about now? What are the next chapters to be? What will I see when I look out of Dostoevsky’s window? More importantly what do I want to see?

I’ve quit smoking, quit drinking to excess and most of my mixed up ways have migrated to a more conservative, domesticated measure.

I expect to outlive my adversaries… I’ve looked into the old lady’s eye.

In the midst of all of this I have found my many fallacies to not be as romantic as I once thought them to be. I have even at times traded in my ‘without self image’ routine to that of the town crier.

I’ve run across an old song recently… old songs are the apex for me… old songs you say… old songs as in the reference of what they once meant and can mean today. Actually I have run across several old songs. Songs that I ignored, some I simply over looked and some I used for poor measure.

Songs more than ever… walk up silently… slay me and move on. Song more than ever take me back to my idealistic youth. To sitting at the bayou late at night in my solitude wondering how it all might ever change and if I was going to have the courage to make it happen.

I’ve rarely seen real courage performed in front of me in everyday life.

I’ve watched family trample family, friends lie to friends, and co-workers turn their back on the actions of spiteful co-workers. We have seen our own public’s shameful behavior over racism, terrorism and many other worlds of ethically challenging endeavors.

What I find telling…

When I pick up my pen to correct my grammar or ask if you will understand my iconoclasms… I will ask where are your songbirds? Where is all of our inspiration? Where is all of our courage? Why do we wait so long to stand up?

I’m going to promise to myself that I will maintain that intrinsic path and share it with the world.

Let me promise to myself that solitude is not the worst of all punishments but the instrument of the trade.

And that instead of ignoring the passion of my interests; I’m going to explore them more… and all those things I’m afraid of…I’m going to inch closer to attempting them or actually accomplishing them.

I have done penance for my youthful indiscretions and am going to allow myself some emancipation. …

Let’s start seeing about all that potential…and all that I saw in that old lady’s eye.