The treasures in my evacuated personal well

Refugee.

The days of the refugee within our borders are with us. Evacuees. That also describes them. And it describes me. I have no home to go to.

I am not in a flood zone. And yet I am in another's home with no where to which I might return. This is a phase of my life which I did not plan. I saw it coming. I also watched it bear down on me with the force of a wall of mud. There is a difference - actually many differences. The prime difference I see is that I asked for this change in so many actions and words. I had no idea what was coming. And I still do not.

This morning I sit at the PC of some friends listening to BBC 6 giving you my current thoughts. Today- what day is this? Yesterday I could not remember the date. And I can't blame that on age. At 50, I am on the downslide of an unknown slope. But I am not without my faculties. They're just strewn about. My inner landscape looks a bit like New Orleans. Most everything is there. But you may have a time trying to make out anything familiar. And you may not be able to use anything familiar for awhile.

Gratitude. Let me tell you about gratitude. I will never appreciate what my friends have done for me in my time of rootlessness. They are treasures. And they are precious. Look around you and see your treasures. Even the view from your window(s) can be a treasure. That old adage "you don't miss your water till your well goes dry" is very true.

Today, take a drink from the pool of your treasures. And get ready for the day of the dry well. But don't push it away or pull it towards you. It will come soon enough.

Just drink.

Heroes come from Jersey, too

Patty Smith.

The name conjures intensity of expression. Reach into your guts, into your heart, into your pants..Well maybe not your pants. She has created a legacy of poetics which can only be reached through thorough examination of ones self and the requisite dragging of the felled beast within onto the killing floor of the arena.

The glory of "Gloria" ascends.

"G-l-o-r-i-a..."

Repeat at a faster and faster pace.
Gain a life.
Lose the life.
Regain the life lost.
Live the life regained.
Can you tell that I admire the survival and ascendance of Patty Smith?

She is not really heroic in a traditional sense. She has certainly thrown herslef into her life. She is no slacker. She goes on and on. Her reflection rebounds into expression. And she mitigates with humor. But she has flown low and taken no prisoners with supersonic flight of words and sheer viscera.

Beat on, oh Jersey Princess. Beat on till the words fall slowly as molasses from your mouth.

Thank you for taking flight. And for landing long enough to drop your load of spirit amongst us - the groundlings.