Be Free and at Peace

The old man was asked, "How can I be at peace and free in this world?"
The old man answered, "When an object moves, does space move, too?"
"I see objects move."
"Do you see space move?"
"No."
"Be as space, and as space, what is there is not you. Be free and at peace."

Among The Trees

Kit was 11 at the time, and it was just before Dad's 60th birthday. We'd not been back long from Sunday service, when Dad asked Kit if he'd like to come for a walk with him through the woods bordering the lake. Kit said, 'Sure!' Dad smiled at us both and said, 'Well, bring the dog, too!' as he walked down the front steps.

When they returned, Kit talked about the frog he and Dad almost caught with their own hands, and about the small snake that slithered off the path as they approached the road back home.

Then, in a hushed voice, Kit added, 'You know Mom, I asked granddad, 'Why do you spend more time among the trees than you do among people?' And he said, 'Because they're firmly rooted and grow straight up to heaven.' Mom, What did he mean by that?'
. . . . .

Thinking Outside the Box

His chatter was increasingly annoying, and her patience was eroding fast. When Fred congratulated himself for 'thinking outside the box', she winced, and snapped, 'The only people that need to think outside the box are blockheads.'
. . . . .

Serving Time

Space doesn't exist in time, time exists in space.
The servant is the owner and host of the household.

the ruler and the saw

If you can't measure the wood, it doesn't matter how sharp the saw.

PostScript The tyranny of the ruler can put the saw to bad use; the tyranny of the saw can do a very bad job.

statement of powers

I was asked 'What is the difference between a government and a state?' I replied, 'By compact, a government serves and is answerable to me. In a state, I am its chattel, born into political ownership, and must do what it demands.'

pull out the weeds

A relationship is a garden mutually owned. If one or both finds weeds sprouting, it doesn't mean that the garden be abandoned and joint ownership dissolved. Help the garden which mutually benefits. Get down and pull out the weeds.

experience speaks

After being introduced by Professor Guerrero, the old journalist casually leaned back against the chalkboard with arms crossed and looked over the class of students like a hawk looking for prey. One student began to shift in his chair, two began to cough, then another.

Thinking to himself, "Son los míos", he stood up straight, took three steps forward, and spoke in a voice as strong as Stentor's, "Journalism isn't an art, and it isn't a science. It's a triumph."

The old journalist paused, reviewed the looks of astonishment with satisfaction, then proceeded at a more natural volume, "To any who think journalism is as easy as reading and paper the cost of good writing, I say this, journalism is quite simply chipping away at nothing and coming up with something that keeps the reader glued until the last period, and makes him glad he was. Now you do it."
. . . . .

Buford’s Letter to the Editor

Dear Editor,

I think the wellbein’ of any upright person is made from the sweat of the brow an' the time to enjoy life to boot. Look at me. I work hard at Sam’s warehouse from 6 in the mornin’, then play checkers with Jethro after work, follow' by'a watermelon seed spittin' contest for a pack of gum with Billy-Bob, then play the ocarina to my sweetheart Lilly, follow' by suppin' with ma an' pa, then go on this ol' hand-me-down ‘puter to scratch my head an' think of somethin' to do with it, then so tuckered out I go to bed an' sleep it all off. Y'all do the same, I reckon. Excep' play the ocarina to my sweetheart Lilly, acourse.

Then lately, I get to thinkin’ bout politics. These politicians, they promise alot, an’ make ya feel like ya rootin’ for a football team in the playoffs, but I know government ain’t a sport an' it sure ain't a legal business so the money for all these ideas would have to be comin’ from outa the wallets of folks like me an' my neighbors. Then I get steamin’.

Now there’s talk they want to take care bout folks’ health. I didn’t see that care after a storm came in an’ blowed granny’s house down like the big bad wolf. They can put a few men on the moon with the help of some of granny’s hard earned wages but won't help her with some wood and a few men to fix an ol’ house. Somethin' strangely unbalanced about politicians.

What does granny get instead? After church, gets to watch well paid politicians on Sunday morning TV at Martha’s trailer sassing each other with polite impoliteness an' some lookin’ to granny like they havin’ sissy fits.

I think I’d rather be free an' die young than to have Washington politicians take more of my life's labor in cash an’ manage my life at 'no cost' till the day I die. I don’t like their deal. They all made a mess of everything else they manage, anyway.

So, horsefeathers. I ain't their huckleberry.

Sincerely,
Buford

In Defense of Intelligence

You don't pull the apple tree out by its roots for critical examination to decide if you'll eat its fruit.

Rubrics of Happiness

I was asked, 'What can ensure my happiness?' I replied, 'Eliminate surprise; do not under-estimate the bad. Eliminate disappointment; do not over-estimate the good.'

Baka Kaže

[an impression written immediately after traveling to Slavonski Brod to visit a friend's 93 year old baka whose family life, to express it gently, was a disappointment to her. She died in October, four weeks later.]

Simplicity ~
in it no comfort,
none to find
in me its renown.

Stillness ~
in it no comfort,
so many to crush its door,
and then comes a light so dark.

Ah, but yet death's dawn,
its darkness so radient, calm and peaceful.