Words of Wisdom, Musings,
Stories & Other Things

frission : a sizzling, sparkling synergy borne of mutual intent, talent, and vision







When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be.

~ Happiness is like a butterfly which, when pursued, is always beyond our grasp, but, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you.

---Lao Tzu




The person who says it cannot be done should not interrupt the person doing it.

--- Chinese Proverb




In our every deliberation, we must consider the impact of our decisions on the next seven generations.

--- From the Great Law of the Iroquois Confederacy




They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety.

--- Benjamin Franklin




When fascism comes to America, it will be wrapped in the flag and carrying the cross.

--- Sinclair Lewis




To announce that there must be no criticism of the president, or that we are to stand by the president right or wrong, is not only unpatriotic and servile, but is morally treasonable to the American public.

--- Theodore Roosevelt




We must guard against the acquisition of unwarranted influence, whether sought or unsought, by the military-industrial complex. The potential for the disastrous rise of misplaced power exists and will persist.

--- Dwight Eisenhower




The true danger is when liberty is nibbled away, for expedients, and by parts ... the only thing necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.

--- Edmund Burke




War is Peace. Slavery is Freedom. Ignorance is Strength.

--- Big Brother




A true community consists of individuals -- not mere species members, not couples -- respecting each others individuality and privacy, at the same time interacting with each other mentally and emotionally -- free spirits in free relation to each other -- and co-operating with each other to achieve common ends. Traditionalists say the basic unit of `society' is the family; `hippies' say the tribe; no one says the individual.

--- Valerie Solanas




Don't get set into one form, adapt it and build your own, and let it grow, be like water. Empty your mind, be formless, shapeless — like water. Now you put water in a cup, it becomes the cup; You put water into a bottle it becomes the bottle; You put it in a teapot it becomes the teapot. Water can flow or it can crash. Be water, my friend.

--- Bruce Lee



An Unexpected Friend



Once when hiking, I had an unexpected encounter with a friend. It was early Spring, and it was a long journey, of more than a hundred miles. The timetable for resupply had necessitated that many miles be covered each day. While the weather had been warm in the lowlands, snow still stood in the mountain tops, and frost covered my sleeping tarp each morning as I awoke with the dawn.

Days were not so bad, though the snow at times made the passage arduous. Still the wonder of nature surrounded me, and I was filled with the hope of the growing season after a long Winter that all living things were feeling. Green shoots pushed towards the light of day through the retreating fingers of snow from the grip of Old Man Winter. Deer and birds rejoiced as they foraged, and the trees were set to blossom with the joy of Spring.

After a sleet filled night, up cold on the mountain, I worked my way down to the valley according to plan. Cold with wet and groggy from lack of sleep, I fell into the rhythm of walking as I worked my way down a mountainside whose trees had been shattered and cracked and fallen with the violence of the cold. The path was obscured, because of the damage, and those trees remaining threatened hurt in heavy wind as the Sun rose through grey dawn to midday. Far below a ribbon of dancing light beckoned: the stream that I knew would lead me back to my path again.

Skirting amoung fallen wood, I made my way down, and down and down to the shimmering light, as the Sun began to peek from the low clouds that surrounded me. Finally its heat won, coupled with my lower elevation, and I found myself mud covered and steaming in its brilliance, though the wind still roared over head. Still I descended, ‘til at last I reached the freshet less than an arms length wide, but moving fast.

I followed the rushing water, still fresh with snow melt, until I could go no farther, the heat of noon teasing my exhausted form with the promise of warm sleep in its comforting light. Finding a dry rock at the foot of a tree, I laid my pack down with a sigh, and spread my sitting pad, and breathed a contented sigh at the much needed rest. The area was sheltered, a flat area on the dwindling hill, and the babbling brook took a bend there, flattening out the water. I fell into a deep sleep, listening to the snow melt gliding happily by me on its way to the sea.

I awoke sometime later with a start, hearing squabbling noise, realizing that I was not alone. A groundhog had emerged from his burrow, beneath a tree just opposite from me, and I realized that I was sleeping in his front yard, an uninvited guest. Still too tired to move, I asked for his forgiveness at the intrusion. This seemed to mollify him somewhat, and he went about his task of gathering fresh watercress from the stream, though still muttering under his breath and clucking at my intrusion into his realm. I watched his efforts, less than a yard away from me, and grew hungry for this fare too, filled with the exuberance of new growth.

He grew wary as I moved towards the water, crawling low as to not alarm him, drinking downstream to as a nod to his sovereignty. I sampled the cress, definitely a nose twister, the strong taste sending the vitality of the hard mountain into my blood. I took some more, bending to drink to wash it down with mouthfuls of the cold and clear melt as he watched me, with what seemed to be an inquisitive smile on his face. One more pinch of the cress, and a little more drink and I was sated, and washed my face, before returning to my seat, and absorbing the sun once more.

The groundhog grew less wary of me, and continued his rounds, tasting and testing the cress, checking on some wapatoo that grew near. Having his fill, he returned to his burrow with a mouth full of the cress for a later salad, and disappeared into the roots of the tree.

I looked at the entrance to his home and saw that there was a flat rock, similar to the one that I was sitting on, in front of his home. Around it I saw scattered the remains of nuts: a nice dining room table for a fella, that made me smile. I hoped that he would come back out, as I suddenly felt lonely in the valley there, wondering what thoughts were inside his head. I reached in my pocket for my mix of nuts and dried fruit, and placed some on his table, calling for my shy companion to come out and join me. I could see his eyes after a short while, reflecting in the dark. I ate some of the mix, and he boldly came out to join me. Again I apologized for the intrusion.

He sat on his haunches, as I laid back against my pack, and we shared a moment in the sun together. It seemed that our minds melded with our surroundings in the simple enjoyment of the perfection of the moment, in the comfort of the warming Sun. We ate of the same fare, and this was a further connection, and he, like me, did enjoy those dried apricots. Two bachelors enjoying a meal. He retreated after several minutes of sharing like this, with the remainder of the food that I had offered tucked by his jaw.

I thought this to be the end of our meeting, and began to gather the strength to resume my walk once more. But the groundhog had in mind a parting gift. Several moments after he had disappeared into the recesses of his den, he returned, bearing a nice sized hickory nut, ready for cracking, in his hands. For the slightest moment he hesitated, before placing it on his table, before retreating slightly into the roots of his tree. I thanked him for the food, knowing his sacrifice, our eyes locked in commonality, the warmth of a smile passing between us.

I gathered his offering, slipping it into my pocket for later use. There I found more of my trail mix. This time I hesitated, though not from need, but from want of not insulting his gesture. But I figured that he might enjoy the rare treat of some more apricots, so slipped out three more and placed them on his table in return. It seemed as though he was pleased.

With that I arose and gathered my pack, and thanked my friend once again for the hospitality. I slipped the weight onto my back, and adjusted the straps, leaning on my walking stick as I did so. Turning, I began to walk away, though I bent down to gather a bit more of the watercress as I passed it. I called back my farewells and appreciations, and continued on down the stream to find my path.

On cold Winter nights I am reminded of this time, a tale to be told around a warm fire late on. I think of the kindness of strangers, and the ties that bind us all in the web of life. I know that by best of chances my friend has no doubt passed. But I think of his descendents living there as they have for millennia, burrowed under the snow, sleeping, waiting for the coming of Spring, like me.

Feelin' Special



Like fevered remembrance come dreams. Traveling, airy, big. The planet rolls beneath the sun; big and cold at night. They squirm across the surface, soaking in the raw power, crystalizing, solarized.

Troubles seem very important. Miniscule thought in midst of great change ... tiny zap of power. We all talk strings of in formation to pass the time. Ideas having fun, getting together. Is it warm?

The calming effect of the big view, openess, tranquility. Always striving for it, looking in everything. Reason for living: reason for being.

Driving, driving through cities, countryside. Ending up at our destination. House of friends. Time passing slow, we learn each other. Sometimes bad underlying current, nagging suspicion undercurrent masked by little games. But they all like each other.

They go to other places. Searching together for that perfect moment. Live it together. Realizing good through bad. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Blending of reality. Am I asleep or am I awake? How to change both through television. An increase, information barrage. A clean feeling, baroque in nature. Fractalic in nature.

Burning slow, conservation of energy; looking for balance; laziness a concern. Swirling, decaying, mass of life death conglomeration. Growing older change time. All living for the open feeling, when everything just right in fevered passage of time. Brainstem floodgates fully open, just relax and let it flow. Look at your life in its full amoebic pattern. Learning, thinking, doing, life. We are nothing but time worms doing the big daddy bone dance.

Shake your jelly; feel the fluid roll. Eyes pulsing in time, fluttering wildly over everything, trying to absorb. Minimalist thinking a blind sham, an illusion. All minimal work still baroque. Just use you microscope. Or look at the minimal buildings and highways of the western world from a mile up. Search for the truth to dispell illusion, fantasy. Do you think that we are all safe here on this place? Think again friend. It can end for any and all of us at any moment. The blink of an eye and all life is past, fallen to supernova blast ripping through space at the speed of light. There can be no warning for this mishap. At least not by the traditional means. Nuclear weapons, war in general, the injustices of minor power stuggles, short term thinking just increases the odds against us. But life is suprisingly tenacious...

A carpenter nailed to a cross is adored by millions. Truth is a joke, Christ smirks. "Hey, isn't that the son of god?" a swarthy Roman said, jabbing his elbow into a companion's ribs. Chia pets grow in seconds on TV. We sit on magic every time that we take a shit. Commuting to work a miracle ignored. Only one person, Him, son of God? We think not, me pretty. But that is an old idea. What is ahead?

A vast society of flesh and metal, humming in unison, fluid with blood and oil. Sweat in the heat of the electric night. Dust under the collar, blown down canyons of lime and sand and steel. Work will set you free. Love the greasygrime for a time.

Sanatized television. Cool, medium, controlled people, faces wax smooth, smile. Come with us, they lure with their siren song. The ship of self among the reef known as the capitalistic urge. Fantastic control.....

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