Category Archives: Uncategorized

7% Battery and Far Too Many Things

Someday we will have better batteries for laptops, or maybe coffee shop tables that charge them through contact (while giving us only minor skin cancer on our forearms).

6%, stop being self-referential Mike. Things to do today, church to attend, in one manner or the next. I weep and cheer for this world, and that makes no sense but it is where I am, I can assure whoever asks. When I was young, I had enough breaks and love and support and safety, and I thought the world was basically Good.

5%, as I grew older, I started to see that I was an edge case, and while there were many of us, there might have been many more who had different experiences and maybe did not see the Good as easily, and could not touch it, being prevented. The TV was telling me this was so, though my parents kept me from seeing images of the very worst of what we could do to each other. I thought the world was basically Good, but flawed – and then, as I watched more TV, and then the Internet, I saw complexity, and saw the flaws were everywhere, and entangled with the Good I still knew to be there.

4%, and I begin to make mistakes in my adult life – the usual kind, like acts of Good not taken, work not considered seriously enough, friends not kept in touch with, pets not pampered (they are a direct channel to our own empathy), insects not given a second chance, animals framed in boxes for entire lifetimes for their meat and hide and extra bits, and I began to wonder if the Good was just a story, and even if so, was there still a value in a Good story. I had by then read Life of Pi, and so began to consider things I hadn’t before reading that, like what happens after one reads anything, or hears anything, or sees anything new.

3%, and my adult mistakes and missteps led me to the steps of the local church, where I had always at least found the Story of Good to be hiding – past all of the Terrible that had become attached to its symbols – and I had to admit, I could not save myself, much less the world. The place is too messed up, and we’re all careening off in our own directions, looking for some reason to keep on careening. I felt determined to see the experiment of my life progress to its next stage, and through to some other thing.

I am leaving so much detail without, because of the limits of time and energy (and my tea is getting cool).

2%, and I’m nearly here, I’ve had my own kind of Very Hard, though not all remotely like Yours. A friend recently reminded me I’m allowed to feel that, no matter what Good I’ve been given to hang on to. My week has been unlike any other, and I’ve been to the edge of what I might call a bit loopy, but hopeful, but full of regret and worry that I won’t be able to be just some part of the light that will help guide others back to where they were headed when there was only Good to see.

1%, and this is for you, typos and all – tired, but true.


tiny tired typing @ the dawn of day

To me this morning and somewhat too early though never too late was given then shaped something thusly and such:


Come to believing

Unfaltered receiving

A hope goes misplaced

While forgoing the grace

Unpause in this yearning

Our listen-and-learning

Your plans into pieces

They fall into place


I am here, to be clear, speaking solely to myself (though of course in public, for open sharing reasons; see recent and more distant elsewheres), having struggled a lot lately with finding and fixing upon hope, like a compass, to get me through my todays and then on to better tomorrows. If it all sounds ever a bit preachy then I think that has something more to do with word association and less to do with intention.

(That last bit i think is the sound of a Canadian pulling up from an almost-apology at the last minute – or else a highly obfuscated apology; see other recent elsewheres for an unsatisfying account of this phenomenon)

I have been attending lately to spiritual teachings that resonate with me personally at this time and place, though those books are, I am led to believe, meant as a means and not as an end – the end as always is finding how best to live in harmony with the rest of life on planet Earth (and maybe someday soon, some places beyond, where we may be bound to go, and of course of those things I can’t rightly know). There are I think many means to that same end, just as we have many languaged words to mean the same things.

May you find your own kind compass in your own early dawn, and I hope to travel with and meet you, along the way and in the end.


craftsperson / criminal

Human beings mess up literally everything – we are, after all, pretty damned messed up. Ask anybody – they’ll tell you.

It makes one wonder if it’s wise or worthwhile to write anything down at all, really – and if only some things, then who gets to say which is what, and why? A hammer is a tool, and so is a sentence, and so are the structures and stories you can craft with either or both.

So be cautious where you swing those things- the best of intentions can still lead to un-mendable impressions.

My own great hope is in evolution (and quickly, please – have you seen the news lately, or worse yet, lived it?). God would agree, I think – evolution is Very Good, and She’s been asking for ours all along. It’s within our nature to have the will (He put it all there, after all), but will we change and save our Nature soon enough?

It feels at times like it must be a photo-finish – and could it be any other way, given all the terrible and beautiful things we know to be true about Us?

tiny tired typing @ the dead of night

I woke up with all the uncertainties I am accustomed to and now with new ones laid atop them like these extra entangled blankets I do not need and my most expensive phones fake keyboard thinking punctuation belongs squirrelled away like a secondary concern and so I press the one two three key so I can properly finish a thought with a hidden secret dot.

Even though I have already been writing – painfully, with my two, too-fat thumbs and second-class symbols buried in somebody else’s idea of where all the tiny tools of type should now go, and assisted by an artificially opinionated auto-corrective editor (with infinite patience, for all of my correctable failings, at least) and in spite of intermittent interruptions from notifications from apps which I did not wish at all opened at this most ungodly hour – WordPress tells me to Start Writing.

Well dammit, I’ve already done that. Or I thought I did. I now fear that all this time I haven’t been writing at all, and here’s one more blanket for you and you’re welcome.

There is now no blood left in my thumbs; they are cramped and crooked and they are sending their pain on down the road to my wrists and then beyond and now everywhere. My eyes strain to see my own things in stark contrast. Everything everywhere in the black mirror seems dire, but there’s still a small smiley (but where I wish a comma was) in the lower left, urging me on, or else laughing at a joke I cannot see myself, but written on my forehead for only it alone. Look at the tired man, thumb-typing – isn’t that grand?

Why am I up, even, at all? What’s going on in the world that needed my attention right now? Why would I even bother to want to write about… oh, right, forgot again that I can’t stop talking to myself in public, even when I’m in private, and the writing isn’t worth the typing not worth the trouble as my fingers double full over.

This all gets fairly old with time, and I never do feel quite finished and found until I Press Publish—-

Read What I Read About Reading to Write

I’m in a tangle with my next angle, and so this page will now direct you to another page.

Please wait…

Wil Wheaton blogs about all the things – like mental health and getting through life and dealing with issues from his growing-up days. He’s also a gamer (FTW!), and is honest and open about the stuff he goes through on the road to There-From-Here, and for those and other reasons (in no necessary order), I am happy he’s around:

In the above episode, Wil talks about that need to read, in order to better write, the value of walking, in order to better live, and then other words thrown in between.

Enjoy, have a wonderful day!


You don't know what you don't know until you know you don't know it

I recently wrote this and then retracted it, and kept thinking I should un-retract it, and now I am doing just that, and nothing else.

Sometimes the worries of work keep me up late at night, sometimes the passion for it gets me up early in the morning. Work-life balance in my instances tends to manifest in sleep patterns, and hardly surprisingly. I probably dream about coding and failure and success as well, though I have a hard time remembering dreams, so I’m mostly guessing.

If lives are like rollercoasters, mine has been one of the water park variety; not overly scary, often unnecessarily relaxing in fact, more than occasionally a bit chilly, but not something that would give a person nightmares.

How lucky that is, I do not think I am even able to properly comprehend. How much this influences my outlook on what Life is and what it might be for, I can only guess.

I think Existence must have a million-billion eyes. No two occupy quite the same socket. What’s the Big Mind make of all of that light and darkness, and the contrast between them that parts the world into shapes, patterns, forms, and meaning? Too, too early in the day, and in any case I can never-ever really say.

If the Truth is Out There and all around us, then we must stand back-to-back in the great face of it all, connected as a larger, living thing that has only yet learned to shamble and shift about, still at war with its own self and senses – not yet fully moving muscles, unaware of our entirely vast edges, unused to the power inert but awakening within the whole.

What kind of kindly and monstrously beautiful beast might we someday soon become, when we All get borne together from each and every lonely One?