Monday, March 16, 2009

Disruptive change

These are times of disruptive change. The world around us disintegrates, dissolves, evaporates. Banking, the car industry, journalism.

How did it come to this? Evolution is supposed to be gradual, not overnight. This is hard. How do we work through it? How do we emerge victorious?

Reading the Tao, I realize the duality of all things. There is no winning...not without losing. And winning and losing are judgments that are meaningless. How do we know when we have won? Lost?

I watched a lame movie over this dredfully cold, wet and dreary weekend. A pretty bad Nicholas Cage movie called "Family Man." But I learned something from it. We think we are winning, that we have won when we are happy. But what if there were an alternate reality where the opposite of our experience were true and we were happy with that? What if we don't know what's best for us.

I know that. I know that incredibly well. I have no idea what is best for me. The universe might know. I hope to god, the universe knows (notice the distinction between god and universe. What the hell is that? But there is a distinction. God is ... well god. HE passes judgment. HE decides whether I am worthy. The universe is ... everything. It's all good. Hmmmmmm.)

So, back to journalism, because the banking industry, the car industry, the housing industry...none of them are my world the way journalism is my world. And it is changing. And we can't control it. And it's hard to form a framework for what it is going to be. We all like definable boundaries, a box of sorts. to put things in.

This is a formless, shapeless blob. You can call it a cloud if you like...but I don't think it's that pretty. I think it's an oilslick.

And I'm not sure we can we clean it up before it destroys all the wildlife and pollutes the world.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

In the stream

There was a time in my life when I would gush words, sentences and paragraphs, certain in my heart that I had something to say that others would want to read.

The older I get, the less I feel that way. I always thought the opposite. After I had lived a bit, I thought, after I had traveled, experienced success and loss, then I really would have things to say that would be worthwhile. I would have some wisdom to impart.

What a joke.

If I had only known that the older you get the less wise you feel, I would have spouted ad infinitum. Oh, that's right, I did...only it was on paper, paper that's stuffed in boxes in closets and attics. The days before blogs and Web sites and FB.

I have shit to say. And I should say it. I just have to silence the editor in my head. I could be one of those bloggers on the edge, but it probably won't happen until I retire. I live my life in fear. One day I will be free. And then watch out world. I will be a voice that will be heard.

Monday, February 9, 2009

Good news

That's what we all need -- a couple million doses of good news.

I mean, at every turn there's another story of ruin and destruction. Things are dire, dire dire, according to the world around us.

Are we being programed? Is our constant diet of bad news making the news bad?

According to "A Course in Miracles," the definition of a miracle is a shift in perception. Now you may believe it's all a bunch of hooey, "The Course in Miracles" and other New Age blather. Any religion for that matter. But the thought behind that definition is totally true: You believe what you perceive. What's true for you is only your perception.

And to change how you feel, choose to see things differently.

If we all started doing that would the economy suddenly start turning around. I mean, really, what is behind all this now? Sure, Wall Street had a meltdown. But don't tell me there's not plenty of abundance out there, sitting there, losing steam. It needs to get out, move around, get a little sunshine. Hide it away in the shadows, clutch it close and you choke it off -- it withers and fades.

We need to believe again. We need to focus on all the good around us. We need to get on with our lives and put everyone back to work. There are people with great credit and stable financial futures who want to buy stuff and can't because the banks have lost their faith in us.

They need to believe again, too.

Let's focus on what we DO have, not what we don't. Let's focus on what's RIGHT, not wrong. Let's shift our perception so that we see joy again.

Let's make miracles.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

Thoughts on a winter day


I saw that on a vanity plate today. I briefly thought about chasing the driver into the Harris Teeter parking lot just so I could say, "Hey, I get it."

At least I think I get it. Since it's a line from an Eddie Izzard routine -- Cake or Death? -- and I am an avid Izzardite.

But what if the driver took it as just a commentary on dieting.

Alas, I'll never know. Afraid of looking like a total psycho, I drove on into the beautiful 71 degree day. Can you believe it? February 8 and 71 degrees. It's just enough to give you a terrible case of Spring Fever, but we all know spring is really still weeks away.

I mean, the circus hasn't even come to town.

It tends to snow here every time the circus comes to town. Well, not last year, or the year before that, but I researched it once and found an amazing frequency of the two events happening simultaneously. One year, it snowed so much the roads were closed and people were trapped in the Scope arena and forced to subsist on popcorn, hotdogs and flat soda. They ran completely out of food.

And last year, March was frigid, cold and gray throughout. It didn't get really warm until nearly May. So, that's why I'm heading south to Florida in a couple of weeks and to Vegas in March.

With some respite in the sunshine, we can make it through the cold.

Saturday, February 7, 2009

In the beginning

The hardest part of any endeavor seems to be the starting. Once the launch has occurred, movement is inevitable. Where it carries you after that is anyone's guess, but you certainly won't get very far with anything until you begin.

This is my beginning.

It is sure to be a rambling, bumbling mess at first, but I'm OK with that. It often takes me a while to find my way in things. I'm not much for mapping out detailed game plans. I prefer to operate on vague guidelines, nebulous ideas, and let things swirl around me until a clear path emerges. Inside the eddy, unexpected patterns arise, unanticipated connections, and things begin to gel, often in serendipitous ways that are far more interesting and delightful than anything I could have planned.

It's the journey that matters. That's where the thrill of discovery, the recognition of creativity, the birth of something new occurs.

And when you finally's time to begin again.