Never Too Late

Construction's over

noreply@blogger.com (chehaw) — Sat, 14 Jun 2008 15:47:00 +0000

This blog now has a new address...

chehawstation.wordpress.com

Come over and sit for a spell...

Under construction

noreply@blogger.com (chehaw) — Sat, 14 Jun 2008 15:19:00 +0000

Changes are a-coming to the blog later today...

Promise

noreply@blogger.com (chehaw) — Sat, 14 Jun 2008 13:39:00 +0000

My job on this earth is to nurture, nourish and protect. If I ever
surpress anyone's humanity, may God help me.

I want to grow someone's humanity.

Namaste

Standard-bearer

noreply@blogger.com (chehaw) — Fri, 13 Jun 2008 22:41:00 +0000

Rest in peace, Tim Russert. And thank you.

A great drummer

noreply@blogger.com (chehaw) — Fri, 13 Jun 2008 13:52:00 +0000

I'm so happy that Brian Blade has another CD out. Perceptual was a fantastic piece of music, and I can't wait to hear this one.

The tao of driving--V

noreply@blogger.com (chehaw) — Fri, 13 Jun 2008 10:28:00 +0000

Cruise control

As I schlep up the turnpike this morning, I'll use my cruise control to keep a constant speed and save a little gas.

I can't treat life that way. I am actively involved in it.

Namaste.

Positive power

noreply@blogger.com (chehaw) — Fri, 13 Jun 2008 10:08:00 +0000

Positive focus, positive emotions. Namaste.

TFTDs

noreply@blogger.com (chehaw) — Fri, 13 Jun 2008 10:00:00 +0000

Writing, I think, is not apart from living. Writing is a kind of double living. The writer experiences everything twice. Once in reality and once in that mirror which waits always before or behind.

Catherine Drinker Bowen

We can never fully know.
I simply believe that some part of the human Self or Soul
is not subject to the laws of space and time.

Carl Jung

From beneath me arises the energy of the Earth, my home and my foundation.
From above me pours down the light of the Sun and the enchanting Moon.
To my right hand flows the strength to control and direct, the power of magic.
To my left hand comes the skill to divine and to heal, the source of blessing.
unknown

(hat tip)

Mirror, mirror--2

noreply@blogger.com (chehaw) — Fri, 13 Jun 2008 01:51:00 +0000

If water derives lucidity from stillness, how much more the faculties of the mind! The mind of the sage, being in repose, becomes the mirror of the universe, the speculum of all creation.

Chuang Tzu

I just finished shaving, and spent a long, long time peering into my eyes, my soul.

What did I find?

Happiness.

In what my soul has, what my soul receives, and what my soul is willing to and wants to give.

Which is itself.

There is a lot of nourishment, nurturing, growth willing to be given freely to the heart and soul of another.

I am always ready to pour it out.

Goodnight

Fulcrum

noreply@blogger.com (chehaw) — Fri, 13 Jun 2008 01:08:00 +0000

What is one of the things that I want?

I want to rest gently on the earth.

Yet move it resolutely.

Is that possible?

;-)

What I see

noreply@blogger.com (chehaw) — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 22:25:00 +0000

When I said earlier I think that someone special should write, I believe it. There are no projections, no tight grip. I simply see beautiful poetry in her.

You can't write well with a tight grip. Writing is a dance. The words in your heart call the tune, and you move with the rhythm.

Writing is life, and life is writing.

Tres simple.

noreply@blogger.com (chehaw) — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 19:16:00 +0000

Peace reigns in me.

Peace is what I long to give to the heart.

Namaste

This is cool...

noreply@blogger.com (chehaw) — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 18:09:00 +0000

There's a great website to help build your creative writing chops---oneword. The premise is simple. They give you a word, and you have 60 seconds to write about it. It forces you to not edit, but write.

Today's word is daisy. Look for chehaw's entry, which, frankly, is one of the better ones so far (Heather's is great.)

The power of the word

noreply@blogger.com (chehaw) — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 16:38:00 +0000

For someone like me, it is a very strange habit to write in a diary. Not only that I have never written before, but it strikes me that later I, nor anyone else, will care for the outpouring of a thirteen year old schoolgirl.

Yes, Anne Frank, we care about your outpouring.

I am trying to encourage someone close to write. I truly believe that she possesses the heart, the soul, the vision of a poet. Her words to me have power, beauty and grace, and I believe the world should see them.

I write a little everyday. What truly stirs in my heart. Even if those words seem mundane and repetitive.

I write because I have the energy to do it. I write because this is the roadmap to my heart and soul. I have so much bubbling and stirring in me. My words may never carry the impact the words of Anne Frank had, and that's ok.

As long as my words breathe fresh air.

(hat tip)

Be prepared

noreply@blogger.com (chehaw) — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 14:30:00 +0000

I'm an Eagle Scout, and I'm proud of these guys, too.

noreply@blogger.com (chehaw) — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 09:57:00 +0000

First breath of the morning
Stirs the soul from slumber

Dreams of the night
Feed the dreams of the day

The dawn's early light
Caresses the soul

Bringing nourishment
To all it touches

More mountains

noreply@blogger.com (chehaw) — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 01:57:00 +0000

I'm happy to be climbing the mountains I have climbed.

I'm happy to have more mountains to climb.

Namaste.

So...

noreply@blogger.com (chehaw) — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 01:20:00 +0000

If I hate all the things below, what do I love?

Me. In all the best ways possible.

As T.O. says, I love me some me!

The world. Yeah, it kicks me it in the butt. But I kick back.

And...entities that are here, and not here...

Let's be clear...

noreply@blogger.com (chehaw) — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 00:55:00 +0000

Yes, I can be reticent. Maybe a tad ego-centric.

But, God Almighty. I hate, hate articles like this.

I hate being sold short. I hate being put in a cubbyhole I don't belong in.

I hate being knee-capped like that.

I'm not scared of my wounds, or my faults, or my idiosyncrasies at all.

They, plus all my goodness ;-), make chehaw, chehaw.

No matter how boring or passionless he may seem. ;-)

Oh really, now...

noreply@blogger.com (chehaw) — Wed, 11 Jun 2008 17:40:00 +0000

"Men don't start boring," Maeve Pollard believes, "they end up boring."

Really? Hmmm...

Amen to that

noreply@blogger.com (chehaw) — Wed, 11 Jun 2008 17:36:00 +0000

Or, standing on the shoulders of giants

I was reading my hometown paper and on the front page was the story of a remarkable woman. It ended this way...

"God has been merciful to me." "I still feel like I'm 14!"

I hope when I turn 105, like she did on June 1, I still feel that way.

Even though I've 36, I have felt younger--a smarter 29 or 30 as it were. And with the changes in me over the the past 15 months, and with the journey my heart is going through now, I believe it will stay that way.

The woman in the story is remarkable, the soul of resilience. Her father was a slave. She couldn't go to school, instead being home-taught. Yet, she worked for the State Department in Washington for 11 years.

She overcame a lot. I have no excuses.

Thank you.

noreply@blogger.com (chehaw) — Wed, 11 Jun 2008 10:08:00 +0000

There is a warmth enveloping my soul this morning, wrapping around me
like a cocoon. My wish this morning is to give that feeling, that
warmth, to the soul of a woman.

Namaste

TFTD

noreply@blogger.com (chehaw) — Wed, 11 Jun 2008 09:55:00 +0000

For the Warrior of Light, there is no such thing as an impossible love.
(Manual of the Warrior of Light)

The thunder rolls

noreply@blogger.com (chehaw) — Wed, 11 Jun 2008 00:39:00 +0000

Nights like this would scare the hell out of me as a kid.

The sky here went from peacefully cloudy to menacing in 40 minutes. A bad thunderstorm is approaching. The wind has strengthened, bringing change and cool air to ease the heat of the past few days. The trees rustle and sway, the horizon brightens with flashes of brilliant light.

When I was little, I was scared to death of thunderstorms. The lightning and the thunder frightened me. The closer the thunder came, the jumpier I got. Once, I was looking out the window when lightning struck nearby. I jumped for my life and ran back into the living room.

My second greatest fear was a storm was dealing with it at night. My greatest fear was being alone in one.

Like right now.

But I learned more about storms, and weather, and what scared me fascinated me. Instead of running away and hiding, I discovered. I discovered these things that tower overhead. And I discovered myself.

The sound of the rain against the pavement, the scent of the air, the sight of lightning filling, the rolling thunder chasing the wind---you can't imagine the beauty it brings to my soul.

Namaste

Silent energy

noreply@blogger.com (chehaw) — Tue, 10 Jun 2008 21:08:00 +0000

It's incredible.

I have a stupendous amount of energy for someone special, yet I can't put that energy where I want.

So. What do I do with it?

It flows here. Instead of me burying it, hiding it in a closet, bottling it up.

I let it roam and play. Breathe the fresh air of life.

My focus isn't on what I have, but what I can give.

Namaste.