tag:dreamwidth.org,2013-05-12:2014669
Journey to Ixtlan
(are we there yet?)
kokopelle
2017-07-05T20:18:31Z
tag:dreamwidth.org,2013-05-12:2014669:749548
Poem - Your Youth
2017-07-05T20:18:31Z
2017-07-05T20:18:31Z
contemplative
public
0
The first line of "Your Youth" was prompted by a verse in the song "Call Yourself A Lover" by Profiles. The result is a mixed bag, but it does accurately speak to some of the emotions I’m feeling. <br /><br /><br />Your Youth<br /><br />You were just another face in all my days<br />one more to which I'll have to say goodbye<br />from the other side of the one-way veil<br />when my final end is met on the long march<br /><br />I've seen the young faces that give me hope<br />when those my age seem to deny the same<br />bitterness at what's been now lost to them<br />weighs on my heart while the saplings compensate<br /><br />with those my age would seem to be my fate<br />though my world may appear different<br />angst becomes the companion I can't shake<br />when self owned loss is a shared malady<br /><br />I've traveled on these roads far many miles<br />accumulated the dust heavy on my boots<br />now I long to lay down my heavy head<br />bidding your youth goodbye when I pass away.<br /><br />2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170705.<br /><br /><img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=kokopelle&ditemid=749548" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/> comments
tag:dreamwidth.org,2013-05-12:2014669:748093
Poem - Blue Video
2017-07-01T02:14:03Z
2017-07-01T02:14:03Z
contemplative
public
0
Blue Video is about the possible “adult” tapes, now perhaps in the public eye, that I made during my fabled career as a college stripper.<br /><br /><br />Blue Video<br /><br />Transgressions in the bloom of youth<br />caught on tape, blue video<br />hidden in the tombs of time<br />now come to light in my old age<br />actions meant to flip some cash<br />when flesh was bared to camera's eye<br />revealing all in survival's name<br />now intrudes on a present day.<br /><br />Yet there I am, in a smudged frame<br />Father Time has had his way<br />the newness of the internet<br />harbors sins of history<br />just as my body has borne term's brunt<br />echoes of the college are besmirched<br />the truth is told through the grain <br />then baby-faced, I was love's whore.<br /><br />No longer in the store's back room<br />behind the curtain meant to screen<br />innocence from the other side<br />life's desires for nudity<br />when data highways are the path<br />to the hubs where passions feed<br />it's no wonder that my feat<br />may be viewed in modern times.<br /><br />Now looking back, I wonder how<br />the choices made will reflect<br />on how the world considers me<br />a quarter century past my peak<br />I've walked away from that place<br />no longer captured for all to see<br />though predilections may still creep<br />I hold them close, now discreet.<br /><br />© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170630.<br /><br /><img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=kokopelle&ditemid=748093" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/> comments
tag:dreamwidth.org,2013-05-12:2014669:659532
Poem - Years Beckon
2016-09-02T01:56:51Z
2016-09-02T01:56:51Z
contemplative
public
0
Dancing has introduced me to many kinds of people. I am comfortable with people who once seemed distant. It was by no fault of their own, only that I did not have prior opportunities to put a human face to past strangers. The poem “Years Beckon” is dedicated to the incredible high school students I have the honor of knowing through social dancing.<br /> <br /><br />Years Beckon<br /><br />The years beckon in your face<br />promising growth beyond this day<br />acknowledging the present place<br />while hinting what lays beyond.<br />My eyes blur when I look<br />imagining visions in decades far<br />I’ll not be here to witness<br />the glory of the realized. <br /><br />Innocence is still resident<br />I'm reminded of my own<br />only fragments remain now<br />worn down by Father Time.<br />Photographs remind me of<br />times when I was the same<br />though not wise enough to live<br />and too ready to move beyond.<br /><br />Often partners moving to tunes<br />I am happy to share the floor<br />as the music pulls our strings<br />I admire you’ve found the dance.<br />Far too late I found the same<br />instead of now as I exclaim<br />fortune has move you to her wing<br />with late misfortune mine to blame. <br /><br />Common ground is found in life<br />each has struggles that relate<br />mirrors echo the new and old<br />as we speak of shared angst.<br />Friends and equals in a space<br />when dialogue is engaged<br />walls are dropped by mutual choice<br />when bridges extend to each.<br /><br />You’re more wise than this fool<br />in the ways that move your world<br />from these insights I may learn<br />about reality we both share.<br />Differences abound I’ll admit<br />you see the world in beginning steps<br />for me it is a bitter dusk<br />perhaps I’ll learn to adjust my life.<br /><br />© 2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160901.<br /><br /><img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=kokopelle&ditemid=659532" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/> comments
tag:dreamwidth.org,2013-05-12:2014669:653382
POem - I Found
2016-08-09T01:47:58Z
2016-08-09T01:47:58Z
contemplative
public
0
I wrote “I Found” in belated celebration of Friendship Day. I am blessed with terrific friends half my age or less. The social dance scene pulls together a wide range of people. In my friends I find a lot of inspiration to retain my humanity in the face of life’s trials.<br /><br /><br />I Found<br /><br />In your face I found beauty<br />by turn of mouth, orb of eye<br />by tint of skin, by all things good<br />brought to form for God's delight.<br /><br />In your smile I found joy<br />full of cheer of the youth<br />or the glee of the senior bent<br />in every age bliss retrieved.<br /><br />In your humor I did laugh<br />so often at myself<br />with kind wit we reviewed<br />jocularity shared by two.<br /><br />In your presence I was moved<br />with the trials you sustained<br />on your path to this place<br />sharing where you used to be.<br /><br />In your pain I was grieved<br />the angels cried as did I<br />you survived in the end<br />misery topped by bravery.<br /><br />In your humanity I found myself<br />now remembered in your gaze<br />mirror to who I could be<br />could I return this fave?<br /><br />© 2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160808<br /><br /><img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=kokopelle&ditemid=653382" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/> comments
tag:dreamwidth.org,2013-05-12:2014669:634667
Poem - The Year 22
2016-06-03T02:04:40Z
2016-06-03T02:04:40Z
contemplative
public
0
There are some years that are hallmarks to your life's progression. I heard a friend talking about the year 22, one year beyond official adulthood with many more to go (one hopes!). I remember that time, dimly, and now I am better for the years that have passed since then.<br /><br /><br />The Year 22<br /><br />Please take me back<br />to the year 22<br />when I was young<br />and not so old<br />when I knew some things<br />with miles yet to go.<br /><br />Turn back the days<br />to that magical year<br />the hundreds of months<br />each with four weeks<br />the dozens of seasons<br />marked by turning of trees.<br /><br />Make me so fresh<br />out of youth's arms<br />eager to love<br />wondering how it all works<br />new to adulthood<br />with so much to learn.<br /><br />In the year 22<br />I live in my heart<br />the years stayed in place<br />while I play my part<br />as the person moved forward<br />to this here and now<br />just as eager to learn<br />as my counter was young.<br /><br />© 2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160602.<br /><br /><img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=kokopelle&ditemid=634667" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/> comments
tag:dreamwidth.org,2013-05-12:2014669:624311
Poem - Reaping the Rows
2016-04-27T01:24:33Z
2016-04-27T01:24:33Z
contemplative
public
0
The poem “Reaping the Rows” is a metaphorical exploration of aging and struggle.<br /><br /><br />Reaping the Rows<br /><br />I've sowed the rows since my youth,<br />now I look back to the sunrise.<br />The crops were gathered plentiful,<br />but would I chose to redo it?<br /><br />The soil was tilled by elder ones,<br />love was a main component.<br />I see this now at this late time<br />though I was blind in past moments.<br /><br />Into this loam I cast my lot,<br />above my head the clouds gathered.<br />I cast the seeds with fear embraced<br />by self-doubt of worthiness.<br /><br />The crop grew strewn with the weeds<br />though the yield did prospered.<br />Years passed as bounties came<br />yet there were signs of danger.<br /><br />Brambles grow when ignored,<br />in time the thorns consumed<br />sacred parts most embrace<br />as the sanity did wither.<br /> <br />The fields I share are diverse<br />shared with other farmers.<br />They wish the best for my soul<br />though I am too trapped to see it.<br /><br />Now enwrapped in twisted vines<br />among the treasures of living<br />I wonder if I would plant again<br />if my mind would be better.<br /><br />© 2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160426.<br /><br /><img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=kokopelle&ditemid=624311" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/> comments
tag:dreamwidth.org,2013-05-12:2014669:601088
Poem - Flowers Near At Hand
2016-02-01T03:41:54Z
2016-02-01T03:41:54Z
contemplative
public
0
Life can be a tormented mix of triumphs, failures, joys, and agonies. I attended a dance during which I met all of these. The dances I did were near ecstatic. Debilitating self-doubt removed from me from the free-form dancing. I felt distant from some people I very much wanted to connect with, and I had a delightful one-on-one encounter that was not expected. A truly mixed bag, positive on balance. The majority of the pain is connected to my inability / unwillingness to reach out to people. The rest is perhaps due to differences in age / social status / generations. Both of these are too much at times.<br /><br /><br />Flowers Near At Hand<br /><br />Loneliness is the place,<br />part of God's greatest plan<br />for learning the consequence<br />of looking for another soul.<br />False trails are the start<br />when a life is measured wrong.<br />Survival is the detriment<br />to happiness in life's heartbeat.<br /><br />Is it enough to be well known,<br />links of a life expressed<br />through artifacts of achievement<br />forgotten in swell of time?<br />Dust passes from the colors,<br />the clock's iron will imposed.<br />True life is beyond the gulf<br />that lays between our lives.<br /><br />How do I become immune<br />to the pain of discovery,<br />losing parts of myself,<br />when I don't know what I seek?<br />To stumble becomes the norm,<br />moving beyond what could be.<br />Turning back is incomplete<br />when life to death is the path.<br /><br />Glimpses of serenity<br />just beyond my hesitant grasp,<br />I'm too slow to grab the joy<br />when you appear in my life.<br />Do I seek what I could be<br />in the shade of fading day?<br />The night will come at the last<br />while I dream of flowers near at hand.<br /><br />© 2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160131.<br /><br /><img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=kokopelle&ditemid=601088" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/> comments
tag:dreamwidth.org,2013-05-12:2014669:591553
Poem - The Same
2015-12-25T04:23:40Z
2015-12-25T13:43:14Z
contemplative
public
0
I saw “Star Wars: The Force Awakens”. Part of the draw of the movie is that some of the original actors are in this move. The accompanying actors are about the same age as their seniors, back in the 70s. This inspired me to write the poem “The Same”.<br /><br /><br />The Same<br />Poem for Day 357 – 20151224<br /><br />See the bloom of youth,<br />come around again,<br />with the same beauty<br />seen so many times.<br /><br />People came before,<br />old when I was young,<br />they all had their time<br />shining in the sun.<br /><br />Now I am the same,<br />echo of the past.<br />The wheel has turned<br />and now I look back.<br /><br />Just a memory,<br />oh so long ago<br />when I was the same<br />age you are today.<br /><br />© 2015, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.<br /><br /><img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=kokopelle&ditemid=591553" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/> comments
tag:dreamwidth.org,2013-05-12:2014669:581251
Poem - Younger Life
2015-11-16T03:43:00Z
2015-11-16T03:43:00Z
contemplative
public
0
I find myself surrounded by the beauty of youth. I also find incredible joy in seeing young(er) people participating in social dancing. Their embracing this life fulfilling activity is a wondrous thing, and at a young(er) age, this can only bode well for their futures. I am in the seniors of this group, perhaps showing that even the old(er) can be young at heart. I don't know, but the poem “Younger Life” is an examination of my life amongst the young(er) people of the world, and the lessons they teach me.<br /><br /><br />Younger Life<br />Bonus Poem for Day 318 – 20151115<br /><br />Remind me of my younger life,<br />occasions met now passed along,<br />the time that slipped on by<br />while I was too busy living life.<br />Now I am gray in the span of years,<br />experienced in the loss of heart,<br />broken down by grinding pain,<br />and wishing for another chance.<br /><br />I'm sure I was your age,<br />logic dictates it should have been,<br />but somehow I missed inherent joy,<br />possibilities of youth's loving ways.<br />My memories drift from happiness,<br />instead dwelling on the difficult.<br />I am sure that fate brought my way<br />the opportunities of these younger ones.<br /><br />The sadness encroached on the sides,<br />adulting brought to forefront,<br />aging me beyond wheel's turns<br />when I should have rose above.<br />I thought I was worthless then,<br />not worthy to enjoy the fruits therein,<br />dead inside while the bloom of youth<br />was wasted on the beliefs of doom.<br /><br />The beauty was present all around,<br />as much as now, but closer at hand.<br />How could I have been so blind<br />when I was young and could not see?<br />Shyness tied my heart in chains,<br />held back my tongue so I could not talk,<br />held back my words of passion’s breath<br />when we had the years to sally forth.<br /><br />You remind me of my younger life,<br />yet in this place I find some hope.<br />The younger life is a frame of mind,<br />with time relative to all mankind.<br />I can focus on the here and now,<br />see my youth in the place I live.<br />In that way I will realize<br />that youthful ways are mine to have.<br /><br />© 2015, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.<br /><br /><img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=kokopelle&ditemid=581251" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/> comments
tag:dreamwidth.org,2013-05-12:2014669:572403
Poem - Hills of My Youth
2015-10-13T09:02:01Z
2015-10-13T09:02:01Z
contemplative
public
0
The poem “Hills of my Youth” is an allegory of aging. The sights of youth are still seen, but the traveler has moved beyond.<br /><br /><br />Hills of My Youth<br />Poem for Day 285 – 20151013<br /><br />There was a time I was amongst <br /> the lovely hills of my youth.<br />They lay spread out in my vision,<br />rolling to the horizon's edge.<br />Beauty incarnate in majesty,<br />satyr's realm amongst the barrows.<br />Mounts of delight, knolls of bliss,<br />the path ran through them all.<br /><br />The wheel turned, I moved on,<br />the journeyer betrayed by age.<br />Satyrs may romp but not I<br />on the road to points distant lay.<br />Now I see them from afar,<br />separated by the deep chasm.<br />The gap not of my doing,<br />but there nonetheless by time's hand.<br /><br />Respect asked, dues given hence.<br />My path lays not in the altitudes,<br />nor in the clefts near in my youth,<br />these have passed out of reach.<br />Long trail back to the mountains,<br />a journey I may never take.<br />The hillocks are in my past,<br />the hills of my youth removed by time.<br /><br />© 2015, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.<br /><br /><img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=kokopelle&ditemid=572403" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/> comments
tag:dreamwidth.org,2013-05-12:2014669:540240
Poem - Journey's End
2015-06-27T14:08:16Z
2015-06-27T14:58:25Z
contemplative
public
0
Two events inspired me in my poem with the theme of “smile”. The first is the ruling on same-sex marriage by the Supreme Court. An online article stated that the acceptance of same-sex marriage is driven by higher margins among the young. I saw another article that stated the Millennials outnumbered Boomers. One of my favorite songs is “I’m Counting on You” by Chris De Burgh. Like Chris, I believe that the upcoming generations are our best hope against the state of the world today. <br /><br /><br />Journey's End<br />Poem for Day 178 – 20150627<br /><br />You see the smile on this face,<br />on this one twice your age.<br />Before I rest I now know<br />the world is held in good hands.<br />The nightmare is fading now<br />as I ready myself to sleep.<br />A new day dawns on the land<br />as my journey's end draws near.<br /><br />Power games of the oldsters,<br />toxic contingencies of despair,<br />entrenched in dusty dogmas,<br />hanging onto what once was.<br />This was to be my legacy,<br />my generation’s gift to you.<br />With thanks you rejected it,<br />putting aside the barbed branch.<br /><br />Poisoned fruit unplanted,<br />field left fallow for new growth.<br />You've rebuked the offering,<br />choosing to plant other crops.<br />The bloodied walls are torn down,<br />their protections no longer desired.<br />Gates opened to paths all may walk,<br />through gardens once blindly sacrosanct.<br /><br />Now it is time for me to join<br />the elders passing from this world.<br />We've had our time, pass the stage,<br />and move the world along this day.<br />When I lay down my head,<br />to sleep long after this life,<br />you'll see me smile to myself<br />as my journey's end draws near.<br /><br />© 2015, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.<br /><br /><img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=kokopelle&ditemid=540240" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/> comments
tag:dreamwidth.org,2013-05-12:2014669:531294
Poem - Bloom of Youth
2015-06-06T01:58:17Z
2015-06-06T01:58:17Z
sad
public
0
I am moving into the last trimester of my life. I am challenged to accept the dusk of my mortality. This is done begrudgely. I accept less, and I’m enraged more, when I see my young(er) friends struggling with health issues. While nothing is guaranteed in life, it is anticipated that we get a fair shake. The poem “Bloom of Youth” is a look at the emotions stirred when illness, disability, and infirmity strike those too young for these visitors. It is dedicated to a struggling friend.<br /><br /><br />Bloom of Youth<br />Poem for Day 156 – 20150605<br /><br />Bloom of youth taken, <br />denied to those of promise.<br />Cruel tyrant of health,<br />what have you done?<br />Disability, infirmity,<br />release the thralls,<br />prisoners all,<br />from your icy grip.<br /><br />They deserve to walk<br />the fields of green<br />in fair recompense<br />for their tender age.<br />No fields for these,<br />those shackled and bound.<br />Healers' best attempts<br />offer only glimpses afar<br /><br />Rail at the ogre,<br />illness most foul,<br />for deeds evil,<br />and compassion vacant.<br />Dissuade the Reaper,<br />arrival foreseen.<br />Plead for reprieve<br />from the unwanted guide.<br /><br />Could you stay my friend,<br />a light outshining mine.<br />The world needs you here,<br />and I would miss you so.<br />Bloom of youth taken,<br />little given in return.<br />Cruel tyrant of health,<br />be kind to this one.<br /><br />© 2015. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved<br /><br /><img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=kokopelle&ditemid=531294" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/> comments
tag:dreamwidth.org,2013-05-12:2014669:505458
Poem - Letter to the Old
2015-03-11T01:01:00Z
2015-03-11T01:01:00Z
contemplative
public
0
I am coming up on age 50, a half of a century. I am truly blessed to interact with adults half my age or younger. They have a vitality that inspires me. They are also have the future. Chris de Burgh wrote the song "I'm Counting On You". It is song by a father to his daughter. It has bone chilling lyrics like "My generation is losing its way, we don't know what we're leaving for you". My generation has an incredible amount of baggage. I am seeing a fresh broom in the upcoming generations. I also wonder about the world that will be theirs when they are my age. The poem “Letter to the Old” speaks to the value and nature of youth relative to older generations. <br /><br /><br />Letter to the Old<br />Poem for Day 069 – 20150310<br /><br />Age is not wasted on the young.<br />It is their fertile ground<br />to grow and blossom<br />if the world does not interfere.<br />Damned be you if damage you do<br />to those who are in your care.<br />Do not pass your brokenness<br />to a generation yet to bloom.<br /><br />So much potential yet untapped,<br />mistake not the delayed progress.<br />There is much yet to come,<br />look to the future as it unwinds.<br />Until then do your best<br />to guide them with light hand.<br />Be warned of your influenced limited,<br />of youth's immunity to your grace.<br /><br />Your knowledge is void,<br />suspect from the start.<br />Stained by your mistakes<br />and blurred with your age.<br />Edges sharp with youth<br />not yet numbed with age.<br />They speak their mind<br />with words you've forgotten.<br /><br />Life seen through new eyes<br />lessons yet to be learned,<br />mistakes to be made,<br />and wisdom to be earned.<br />Perhaps they will best your hand,<br />one can only hope for this blessing.<br />The youth will own the world <br />when the rest of us have passed.<br /><br />© 2015. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved<br /><br /><img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=kokopelle&ditemid=505458" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/> comments
tag:dreamwidth.org,2013-05-12:2014669:487619
Poem - Spectral Friend
2015-01-11T20:45:06Z
2015-01-11T20:45:06Z
contemplative
public
0
I am discovering one of life's inside jokes. A large number of my friends are adults half my age. They are vibrant, lovely, and mature beyond their years. They remind me of my past and the people I knew when I was that age. The poem “Spectral Friend” is about the ghosts of memory that I encounter, and their lesson to me, when I interact with my wonderful younger friends.<br /><br /><br />Spectral Friend<br />Poem for Day 011 - 20150111<br /><br />We were all younger,<br />those many years ago.<br />You were so beautiful<br />with the blush of youth.<br /><br />I see the same glow <br />in persons half my age,<br />your face hides behind theirs<br />as visions echo from the past.<br /><br />They are half my age,<br />mentally you are the same,<br />ageless in the corridors<br />of my mocking mind.<br /><br />Is it really you I see,<br />or do I long for remedy<br />to years slow march<br />from there to my maturity?<br /><br />That is it, my spectral friend,<br />beautiful ghost of memory past.<br />We were all younger,<br />those many years ago.<br /><br />© 2015. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.<br /><br /><img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=kokopelle&ditemid=487619" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/> comments
tag:dreamwidth.org,2013-05-12:2014669:418439
The Inspiration of Youth
2014-05-11T19:14:26Z
2014-05-11T19:14:26Z
public
0
One of the relative facts of life is that a person picks up baggage, both good and bad. The good baggage can comes in form of long-term relationships, be they family, friends or organizations. Another form of good baggage can a general sense of how the world works. Some people call this wisdom. Other people say it is “been there, done that”. The last category of good baggage is all the neat trinkets / things people pick up along the way. Look, shiny! However, with the good comes the bad too!<br /><br />The bad baggage shows up in doubts, scars of both the mental and physical varieties, aches and pains, the less good long-term relationships, and the less good physical things following us like an iron ball. This baggage can show up at any age, and it accumulates as time goes on. Like the mule following the same path to the field, the baggage can become embedded just as the mule plods a furrow into the ground. Believe me, it really bears down on a person, with a crushing weight that saddens the soul.<br /><br />This topic could end on a melancholy tone, but that is not my intent. I instead want to praise the thing that heartens my soul and soothes my aches. This thing is the example of youth, and specifically the promise of new beginnings and possibilities. My feelings on this topic can be summed up in Chris de Burgh's song “<a href="http://www.metrolyrics.com/im-counting-on-you-lyrics-chris-de-burgh.html">I'm Counting on You</a>” on the album “<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Getaway_%28album%29">The Getaway</a>”. The song is framed from a father singing to his daughter, but I feel it is completely applicable to an older generation speaking to a young generation. Some lyrics include:<br /><br /> But where are the heroes, where are the dreams that I had<br /> When I was young?<br /> Am I hoping in vain, just to think she could change anything?<br /> Well I'm counting on you<br /><br /> I'm counting on you<br /> To bring that sweet gentleness to your world and all that you do <br /> My generation is losing its way, we don't know what we're leaving for you<br /> So may there be millions who feel like you do, oh my love<br /><br />This sends shivers up my spine! Such hope and beauty, and this is what I see every time I socialize with the young people in my life. The melancholy induced by my baggage is dissolved in the face of the reminder of possibilities. I am still alive, my interests and abilities are still growing, and in those respects my life are as fresh as the beautiful people around me graduating from their present stations in life and moving into a whole new realm of possibilities. <br /><br />The inspiration of youth reminds me that I am as young as I choose to be. I am young at heart, but blessed be, my baggage is heavy. It drops away, and the twenty-five years associated with it, when I dance. Moreover, as sad as it is that my dear contra friends are graduating and moving on, they remind me that I have the same option to graduate to new things in life. Thank you for the young because they remind us that our baggage is not life. Instead, life is about the continuing possibilities.<br /><br /><img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=kokopelle&ditemid=418439" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/> comments
tag:dreamwidth.org,2013-05-12:2014669:377157
Grace Hopper, Youth and Change - a 107 year celebration.
2013-12-09T16:33:47Z
2013-12-09T16:33:47Z
contemplative
public
0
The only constant is change... or that is the way things should be. We old(er) people get stuck in wanting things to remain the same, and it is up to the youth to drag us forward. I was inspired to think this by seeing a quote attributed to <a href="http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Grace_Hopper">Grace Hopper's </a>commencement speech to the Trinity College class of 1987, which was excerpted in TIME.<br /><br /><div style="margin-left: 40px">There’s always been change, there always will be change . . . It’s to our young people that I look for the new ideas. No computer is ever going to ask a new, reasonable question. It takes trained people to do that. And if we’re going to move toward those things we’d like to have, we must have the young people to ask the new, reasonable questions. A ship in port is safe; but that is not what ships are built for. And I want every one of you to be good ships and sail out and do the new things and move us toward the future. <br /><br /> </div>What are us old(er) people to do in the face of this challenge? Easy... think young, act young, and cultivate change. The latter will help ensure the two formers!<br /><br /><img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=kokopelle&ditemid=377157" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/> comments
tag:dreamwidth.org,2013-05-12:2014669:367744
The Challenge of Faith and Trust
2013-11-03T04:50:51Z
2013-11-03T04:50:51Z
confused
public
0
A recent event got me thinking about faith and trust. Some back ground is kept purposely vague to protect the parties! <br /><br />Nearly twenty years ago I met a wonderful young lady and we had a series of adventures over a number of years. While the events flirted with the edge of intimacy, the relationship was platonic and has remained such to this day. We are still tremendous friends even though we are separated by great distances and very rarely see each other in person. <br /><br />This is where the faith and trust part comes in. Twenty years ago one adventure was quite adventurous. Years later my friend's current husband found about this event. It has caused difficulties between them. He does not believe him when she says that our relationship was not platonic. He insists something must have happened. She says no, but he says it can't be. It leaves me scratching my head that he cannot believe his mate, the person he has pledged to spend the rest of his life with. They have children and she is committed to the relationship, but he does not seem to have faith that she will remain his if she continues to see me as a friend. <br /><br />I bit of intuition revealed that my friend's husband may have had events in his life that cause inherent insecurities, ones that originate years prior to meeting my friend. I suspect this does not bode well for this matter being sorted out, but love can lead to faith and trust and I hope this for them!<br /><br />What do you think? Am I missing something here?<br /><br /><img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=kokopelle&ditemid=367744" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/> comments