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I've been writing reminders when I'm in good moods to brighten by darker moods later in the day. I just read the one I left this morning:

Life is beautiful. Seeing it played out in younger generations, like a succession of seasons, brings everything back into perspective. 

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"...And they, since they
Were not the one dead, turned to their affairs."

That line at the end of Frost's poem has always haunted me. It seems so calloused, yet so very true. As deaths notch up each day, I continue to walk in good health.  It always returns to me on the date of disasters, today an obvious example. 
Death catches me in a bind. How ( Read more... )

One of my dad's favorite songs. I played it on the piano for him on Friday.

A Most Peculiar Man

 Back from Oxford a completely different person, but nothing has changed ( Read more... )

I love how songs can have special meanings for us. Normal tunes become embroiled in some event or person, and we can't divide the two.

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One must accept that all life is full of suffering, the Buddha's first step towards enlightenment. Of all the philosophy and religion I've learned, this seems the most true. It's the most realistic. The grittiest, the most-in-your-face, and the most relevant.

A few days ago my mom had complications with her eye surgery. Powerless to help, I watched ( Read more... )

As I listened to the Volga Boatman this morning checking e-mail, a recurring thought recurred once again. Why do we like certain things and not others ( Read more... )