Trackless

frozen flat

lake white

snow walking

nowhere footprints

only lead here

Without Justification (v.2)

Rather than diagnosing
this morning and
heartfully prescribing
in pragmatic prose,

a way through
the current crisis,
I sip tea and
practice being
irresponsible.

The dark masters
gather and grumble
at my indolence,
but I courageously
resist their muttered
insults and seductions.

I have grown weary
in steadfast pursuit
of their fickle approval—
as if freedom could happen
at some other time.

Every action creates
the life I lead—
a continued quest
for self-earned grace or
some wilder enterprise
of unknown provenance.

So again this morning
I practice resistance
to the ancient gods
of Self accomplishment
and vow to leap
wholeheartedly into
just this one life
without justification.

Looking For The Truth

The impeachment trial of our former President is going in the Senate chamber of the Capital building. A little over a month ago, these same halls were filled with angry insurrectionist doing their best to prevent Congress from carrying out its democratic duty. Mike Pence was being hurried down back stairs while armed individuals were calling for his death by hanging just a few hundred yards away. Nancy Pelosi and other members of Congress were hiding in fear before they too were ushered to safety just before the doors to the chamber were breached. Now the Senate is deliberating to determine whether the former President should be convicted of inciting this insurrection.

Given the past unwillingness of the Republican Senators to challenge Trump, the final outcome of the trial will most likely be acquittal. But history is being written through the exposure of email and video footage of the events leading up to and including the armed assault on the Capital building. We, as a people, are trying to get to the truth of what happened.

The Senate is being asked to look at the events that happened from several different perspectives. The Democratic House Managers of the impeachment are presenting many perspectives showing Trump in the worst possible light. Then his lawyers will have the opportunity to present the same evidence in the best possible light.

This is a time-honored practice in societies that value truth and justice. It sounds like it should be simple and that after looking at all the evidence from a variety of angles, the ‘truth’ should be obvious. But ‘reality’ is not as straightforward as it seems. Eyewitnesses are notoriously unreliable and many a trial ends with doubt and continuing differences of opinion.

Polls are showing that most Democrats think Trump is guilty of the charges and that most Republicans think that he was just exercising his right to be inflammatory and politically incorrect. But lives were lost and the government of the United States was directly attacked, with nearly catastrophic outcomes. This is not a small matter and the issues of how much was planned and who was involved in that planning are of central importance.

One of the key issues of this impeachment trial is the degree to which someone, in this case a sitting President, can be held accountable for their words. While our country takes great pride in our ‘so-called’ freedom of speech, in fact, we have always recognized that some speech should not and cannot be allowed. You can be sent to prison for being involved in plotting a crime. You can be fined thousands or millions of dollars for willfully telling lies that damage another person’s reputation or income.

News outlets and public figures have always been liable for the impact of false words they may speak. Part of the way out of our current state of polarization may be to begin to hold virtual platforms accountable to some modicum of truthfulness as well. The righteous anger of the insurrectionists was clearly fueled by lies that were told and repeated leading up to January 6. That you can be held accountable for the truthfulness of your statements and for inciting others to violence seems a fairly reasonable position.

The stories we tell about how we got where we are are part of how we create the future we move into. I hope that the Senate proceedings may allow us all to see more clearly into the events leading to the storming of the Capital and might allow us to recognize the value of a shared truth and the power of our words.

Soft Distractions

Snow fell through the day
in the smallest possible flakes
as if there was an inexhaustible
endowment of beauty available.

I accomplished little but
did manage to notice how
the evening’s meager accumulation
required the falling of a whole day.

In the end, I quickly pushed
it all aside to keep steps clear
and paths free for the necessary
busyness known as daily life.

Dreaming of Lucky Shots

I dreamt I was playing golf in the snow at a friend’s wedding. We were in the rugged mountains of north Wales with piles of bare rock instead of sand traps. I realized these were unusual conditions and asked my friend to take a picture of me making a put. I felt bad asking him to take a photo of me since it was his wedding, but he was happy to oblige. But when he took the photo, he took it looking back at the lodge where the reception was being held rather than against the picturesque rocks. I decided not to say anything.

My first shot was quite poor but my second shot was superb and landed me near what appeared to be the hole. I asked my friends where the hole was. They didn’t know either but said that I should since I was the one making up this game of snow golf. We decided it must be the small furrow nearby. For some reason, I got to pick my ball up and drop it wherever I wanted. It seemed unfair to put it too close to the cup, but I put it close enough that I had a reasonable shot through the uneven snow.

My friends were amazed at how skillful I was in my playing of snow=golf. I explained to them that I was sometimes very, very lucky, but that the luck came and went with such frequency that I never made bets on my playing.

Once, in real life, I was invited to participate in a rodeo in Costa Rica. Really. I mean, I was already there at a resort and it was after the real cowboys had put on the real show, but still, I was invited. The resort was in the rain forest and had been a cattle ranch in a previous incarnation. I was there with a mindfulness program while there the other group was practicing some wild kind of horseback riding and sensuality. I never quite figured out what they were doing, but they loved to ride horses fast and I got into the action to ride with them a few times.

When I asked their leader (a self-styled sensualist who never seemed to wear a shirt) how to ride, he said to feel my energy sinking down through the horse’s hoof’s into the ground and to call on the body-wisdom of my ancestors who rode bareback across the great plains—to trust that the horse and I were part of the same knowing. With that one riding lesson, I began galloping across open fields and even taking small jumps with the others. And, sometimes indeed, I did feel the energy of the horse and the earth and the wind as part of me.

At the end of the week, the local cowboys put on a small rodeo for the forty of us at the resort. These guys grew up on horses and were as comfortable riding as I am sitting on the couch writing these words. One of the contests at the end was to gallop across the arena at full speed and spear a small brass ring (about size of a quarter) from where it was clipped to a wire running across the ring. They tried it several times to no avail and then asked if any audience members wanted to try.

My enthusiasm got the better of my judgment and I went down into the ring with a few other guests. I waited while a couple others mounted up tried unsuccessfully to get the ring. Then it was my turn. The horses, by this time, were quite excited. All the racing around and the excitement of the riders was absorbed by these amazing creatures who love to run. The horse was practically prancing as I mounted. It was willing to wait for only a moment and then took off across the dirt ring.

I remember thinking ‘I hope I don’t fall off’ – mostly because I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of everyone, but thinking back, serious injury would have been much worse. I held my small stick up in the general direction of the ring so as not to appear as fearful or out of my league as I really was. When the horse stopped on the other side of the arena, I found, to my amazement, the ring was on the small stick in my hand. Everyone cheered and hooted at my demonstration of skill. I proudly took it over to the owner of the resort and he gave me a couple bills that he was handing out to the cowboys for their antics.

At breakfast the next day, several people were quite impressed and attributed my success to a combination of horsemanship and Zen. I maintained, and still do, that it was all luck.