Archive for the ‘Chronicle’ Category
Authentic Joy
Lately, I have been thinking about the accuracy of memory, in particular, earliest memories. Many are augmented, or even supplanted by photographs we have from the past. I don’t actually remember some things that happened, I remember what it looked like from a picture I have repeatedly seen that depicts the moment.
I recently began tinkering with transferring some of our old home-videos from tape to a digital video file. I do remember this particular moment, but it would never be so genuinely presented if we hadn’t managed to capture the video of it. I’m so glad to have this to show my daughter, Elysa, the fun we had during the time before she can remember.
More Adventure
I understand if you find this hard to believe, because I can hardly believe it myself. This summer, Cyndie and I will be making our second trip to Portugal, returning to visit the Rowcliffe’s Forest Garden Estate. In the time that has passed since we were there last fall, the spring garden has received many new plantings. They have added a reflecting pool. Ian has given a home to a new kitten. And Doll has given birth to a foal they named Gretel.
I vividly recall the guttural emotion of Cyndie’s response when she first laid eyes on images of new born Gretel that Ian had posted for us to see. I think that was the first spark that initiated our plotting to get back to Portugal sooner, rather than later. Now, with the first phase of Cyndie’s Epona horse training under her belt, she is wildly inspired to return and be in proximity of the Rowcliffe’s herd of horses.
The only unknown left seemed to be my ability to get time off from work. Early this week, I was officially granted the time. I called Cyndie immediately to let her know, and she immediately purchased the plane tickets. Our dream is again becoming real.
There is such joy in just knowing we are going to go. Imagine how much fun it will be when we finally do.
Brainstorming Again
Why do I Brainstorm(s)?
One of the primary reasons is that Brainstorms uses Caucus. My affection for Caucus, and my interest in seeing it being well-used, is how I learned that Brainstorms existed. My early experience with Caucus conferencing was on a small scale. The number of participants was not large enough to maintain any momentum of active conversation.
I tried creating a few conferences for my own purposes using Caucus, but none of my efforts ultimately solved the problem of attracting a critical mass. Much as I loved the software, I had only ever witnessed it being under-used. When I questioned whether I would ever witness the platform being used to the fullest, I was pointed to Howard Rheingold’s Brainstorms, as an example.
There, I found a membership that included people from around the world. I was presented with more conversation than I could process. And, in a short amount of time, I realized Howard’s idea of raising the bar of civil, adult conversation was being lived out by an amazing collection of brilliant and creative minds.
On Brainstorms, I learn what is going on in other parts of the world, often, as it happens. I consider myself one of the people who read more than they post, and what I read causes me to think. I am inspired to think about my own opinions and consider other perspectives. Oftentimes, I contemplate whether I have my thoughts organized enough to post a contribution to the conversations. Whether I end up writing, or not, I have been led to consider my opinion.
My world has been expanded by my membership in Brainstorms. I have attended gatherings of members in Chicago and San Francisco. I have discovered a kindred spirit and true friend in Portugal, and traveled across the ocean to commune with him, in person. I have exercised my ability to communicate in writing and taken advantage of a vehicle for sharing my poetry, prose, and photographs.
Brainstorms is akin to having hundreds of pen-pals. Brainstorms gives me an invisible friend with multiple personalities who informs my real life and listens to what I have to say, day or night. Brainstorms can be habit forming, but if a habit is healthy…
I still believe there are a limited subset of people who align with whatever it is that makes conversing online in a community of people you don’t already know, attractive. It’s not for everybody. But I am forever grateful for the vehicle of the internet and Caucus software, and that there is a core group of other like-minded souls who continue to feed my passion to commune online at Howard’s amazing creation, Brainstorms.
Once Again
Just one more look at Sunday’s sunny pansies before the next spring snow storm rolls through tonight to paint everything white again for a few hours. The other day, as I picked out the shirt I was going to wear to work, I mentioned to Cyndie that I was going with my “spring” shirt, as I pulled out my flannel black & gray plaid number. It might look a lot like my winter shirt, but it is a versatile one that works just as well for a Minnesota spring. I’m going to be putting my chopper mittens back in the car before I head out to work today.
Quick Change
The nice thing about spring snow is that it doesn’t last long. Saturday was cloudy and snowy, Sunday turned out sunny and nice.
Ian, Cyndie spoke about thinking of you while she was transplanting some pansies she bought from a garden store. I finally got out on the back deck in the warm sun and returned to my long-dormant bracelet sculpting project. As the chilly breeze was moving across my ankles, I thought about the high heat you have described in Portugal already. We are a long way from that. But we will soon be able to work on the landscape around our house.
We can’t get started on planting much yet as our forecast for the coming week calls for low temperatures overnight near or below freezing. Cold morning temperatures like that are enough to keep me from wanting to start riding my bicycle to work yet. Luckily, I’m prepared to return to exercising my ankle with morning indoor futsal matches starting today.
That isn’t really a quick change, but at least it is change in the desired direction.
Ahhh, Spring
Spring in Minnesota does often look like this. Yesterday morning we awoke to the much more monochromatic vista of snow, instead of the bursting colors of spring.
I find it interesting to witness what it does to people’s psyche. I’m not sure if it is that they fail to understand the inevitability of such weather or just allow themselves to be bluffed that snow is done when the first days of sun and 70° finally arrive.
I do admit, that even I have caught myself wanting to remove the chopper mittens and window scraper from my car on those hot, sunny spring days that cause so many people to think snow is done and gone. Full disclosure: I took the mittens out… but, left the scraper in.
It’s not so bad if you mentally prepare yourself for the inevitable weather back-slide that briefly interrupts what we perceive as truly defining spring. Spring snow is incredibly beautiful. Depending on your perspective, I guess.
Explain the incredible beauty to the worm…
Memory Party
It’s like a high school reunion, only different. Every year around this time, a group of people who once worked at the same company gather at a pub to check out where the world has taken everyone and to revisit a range of memories. I left that company over 12 years ago after 18 good years of employment. I met some of the smartest people I have ever worked with during those years and I experienced valuable friendships. It is very rewarding to again be able to see some of the people from that time in my life.
I find it puzzling that my memory comes up so absolutely blank on a person that I recognize; someone who I know I had a fair amount of interaction with, and especially for someone I particularly remember liking. I wonder if it had anything to do with the name not being unusual. Last night, it was Jeff, from the Software department. I needed to ask, as embarrassing as that can be, but then we were able to relive some fun, shared recollections of a project we worked together on.
I found myself telling the story of recently cutting off my dreadlocks, and sharing details of Cyndie’s and my adventure of traveling to Portugal to work with Ian and his family at their Forest Garden Estate. I fear that my stories, which are so darn much fun for me to relive, probably go on a little bit longer than my audience really cares to hear. Kind of like my writing sometimes, I suppose. At least here, you have the ability to skim over segments of my excessive verbosity. In person, people have to resort to excusing themselves to use the restroom or needing to go get another beer at the bar.
My memory got some good exercise last night, which is just what I needed. It’s the only exercise I’ve had since I sprained my ankle. It also was the kind of party that provides a real energizing afterglow; also something I needed to help break the sense of exhaustion that the long, hard days in the trenches of the day-job have been dishing out lately.
Speaking of which, even though it’s Saturday, back in the trenches is just where you’ll find me today. Workin’ another Saturday.
My memory tells me there was a time I had weekends off. Ah, those were the good ol’ days.
What Routine?
I have taken a break from playing soccer for over a week and a half to give my sprained ankle time to heal. Yesterday, I noticed the ankle was feeling mostly pain-free and decided it should be ready to do a little running and kicking again.
When I sat for a short while last night, upon finishing a late dinner, after a very long and taxing day at work, I was overwhelmed with exhaustion. I could hardly keep my eyes open. So, my ankle feels ready to go, but the rest of me is too fatigued to give it the support it needs, especially in a return effort from injury. I elected to sleep the extra two hours and wait until Monday to start playing again.
It is amazing how much effort it takes to maintain the routine of staying fit. A little hitch in the program and it can be like climbing mountains to get back to my pre-injury regimen.
Meanwhile, each day that I delay beginning my cycling season, makes me feel more anxious about getting that passion re-started. Sometimes I wonder if I will remember how to ride a bike. I’m hoping it’s been more a function of the weather than my body’s readiness. A nice, calm, warm sunny day will do wonders for my motivation. It will be really helpful if that occurs on a Saturday or Sunday, too. The day-job is consuming a lot of the daylight hours, and most of my energy, lately.
I think I’ll just go back to remembering when I was a boy, and the oodles of free time I enjoyed, riding my bike for hours and hours of care-free fun. Wasn’t that a healthy routine? Too bad thinking about it doesn’t do anything to strengthen my legs and harden my butt to the pressure of that saddle.
I’m clinging to the wisdom that, once over that initial mountain, it is all smooth, pleasant sailing.
What routine? That routine!
Cyndie’s Home!
And you didn’t even realize she was gone. Even though she travels often for work, this last week and a half away from home seemed like a long absence to me. It included a spell where she was off the communication grid, unreachable through all our usual electronic means. Cyndie spent a week in Arizona studying for an apprenticeship in Epona Equestrian therapy techniques. Last night she shared amazing stories of energy interactions with horses. I am awed by her intuitive abilities, and pleased to hear about her connections achieved with the horses and the new friendships she made with other people studying at the ranch during the week.
Her tales consumed my attention and left me short of conjuring up any other writing of my own. I don’t know if I can do her stories justice, but I’ll take a crack at one to give you a taste of what I heard.
Here is a picture of one of the horses she worked with in Arizona. Coincidentally, this horse is named, Cindy. Does it show that the horse is 35-years-old? During an exercise of meeting the herd, Cyndie was instructed to approach the horses at the door of their stable and non-verbally connect with them to gain information about the horse or about herself. The horses had fly-screens on their heads at the time, which covered their eyes from view. After human-Cyndie conveyed her thoughts to horse-Cindy, non-verbally asking if there was anything else to know, Cyndie felt a very clear headache across her forehead and a pain in her eye.
After each person shared the information gathered from their initial meetings, the trainer responded with details about each horse. It just so happens that horse-Cindy had recently banged her head into a door and had a swollen eye.
What a treat it is to have Cyndie home!
More Remembering
Continuing on a theme I started yesterday, I am enjoying remembering being a little boy. Also, I like inspiring my siblings’ memories with snapshots from our past. In honor of the start of baseball season, I dug up this little gem.
I think I was being groomed early on to be a Twins fan. Don’t I just look extraordinarily excited for the season to be underway? My family will remember that spot as the stairs leading up to the center circle of the driveway on the farm. They will also probably recall that my apparent glee of that moment was likely short lived, and I would have found something to brood about soon after.
I loved playtime of my youth. And what a playground we had on that farm. Riding my tricycle on that long driveway. Digging in the dirt of the center circle to play with my toy trucks. Going on adventures down to the chestnut tree or the old tennis court. The chicken coop that had been turned into a clubhouse. The barns. The back yard where we had worn out our own ‘home plate’ into the grass.
I guess I’ll reveal, I’ve been working on the old slide show of the farm that I set to music, converting it from video tape to a digital file I can manipulate and post, and it has contributed to my recent reliving of the past. Maybe someday in the near future I will be able to trigger more memories with a revised version of the farm slide show that can be seen online. It all depends on my ability to hurdle a few technological obstacles that lie in the path toward my goal. I’m not feeling as spry as I once was with these kinds of projects, and my much more new-tech savvy son no longer lives at home, so the odds of succeeding in a timely fashion right now are low.
