Friday, December 31, 2010

The Bell

The great miraculous bell of translucent ice is suspended in mid-air.

It rings to announce endings and beginnings. And it rings because there is fresh promise and wonder in the skies.

Its clear tones resound in the placid silence of the winter day, and echo long into the silver-blue serenity of night.

The bell can only be seen at the turning of the year, when the days wind down into nothing, and get ready to march out again.

When you hear the bell, you feel a tug at your heart.

It is your immortal inspiration.

Thursday, December 30, 2010

Annoying Optimist

People who are too optimistic seem annoying. This is an unfortunate misinterpretation of what an optimist really is.

An optimist is neither naive, nor blind to the facts, nor in denial of grim reality. An optimist believes in the optimal usage of all options available, no matter how limited. As such, an optimist always sees the big picture. How else to keep track of all that’s out there? An optimist is simply a proactive realist.

An idealist focuses only on the best aspects of all things (sometimes in detriment to reality); an optimist strives to find an effective solution. A pessimist sees limited or no choices in dark times; an optimist makes choices.

When bobbing for apples, an idealist endlessly reaches for the best apple, a pessimist settles for the first one within reach, while an optimist drains the barrel, fishes out all the apples and makes pie.

Annoying? Yes. But, oh-so tasty!

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

A Long Time Ago

A long time ago people believed that the world is flat and the moon is made of green cheese.

Some still do, to this day.

The man on the moon is looking down and laughing.


It is interesting that we call something good a “dream,” but being called a “dreamer” is somewhat of a putdown.

Without dreamers, no dream would ever be given reality, and we would live in a very small and shallow world.

If you are a secret dreamer, it’s your time to announce yourself.

Monday, December 27, 2010

The Stranger in the Rain

On the late afternoon streets, everyone hurries along, going about their own business.

Who is the person walking in front of you on the rain-drenched sidewalk?

He is covered with an umbrella, and all you can see is a dark coat and the shoes striking the puddles.

And yet this person is the hero of his own life story.

He is the love of someone’s life.

And what he can do may change the world.

Imagine being him for a moment.

And then continue on your own way.

Sunday, December 26, 2010

The Heartland

The heartland lies where the heart longs to be.

Sometimes it takes a lifetime to find the true place to plant it.

Saturday, December 25, 2010

Golden Reverie

Snowflakes swirl down gently in the deep blue haze beyond the window. The outside world is a dream.

Inside, the fireplace is brightly lit, and the Yule log crackles with orange and crimson sparks.

There’s a steaming mug in your hands, warming your fingers.

There’s a friend seated across from you in the cozy chair, warming your heart.

There is mystery unfolding.

Friday, December 24, 2010

The Wisest King

One true king knew when to step aside and give up the reins of power—to remove his crown and relinquish his kingdom—all for the sake of glimpsing, just once in a lifetime, the face of a holy child.

He was the Fourth to follow the Star.

His gift was a secret.

The rest of his journey is unknown.

Thursday, December 23, 2010

The Compass Rose

The compass rose is nothing but a star with an infinite number of rays pointing in all directions.

It is the one true and perfect symbol of the universe.

And it is the one most accurate symbol of you.

Spread your arms in an embrace, throw your head back, and prepare to receive and send coordinates of being. For, at last you know—you are the navigator, the captain, and the ship.

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

The Nutcracker

The nutcracker sits under the holiday tree, a guardian of childhood stories.

Feed him walnuts and he will crack open a tale . . .

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

A Reindeer Tale

Once upon a time, the Reindeer took a running leap and jumped over the Northern Lights.

But he jumped too low, and the long fur of his beautiful flowing tail got singed by the rainbow fires of the aurora.

To this day the reindeer has no tail to speak of. But he is too busy pulling the Important Sleigh to notice what is lost. And he certainly doesn’t complain.

What’s your excuse?

Monday, December 20, 2010

The Smile

Withhold a smile only when the smile can hurt someone.

Otherwise, let it bloom forth in a riot.

Sunday, December 19, 2010


Meditation is a mysterious method of self-restoration.

It involves “shutting” out the outside world, and by that means sensing the universal “presence” which is, incidentally, absolute perfect peace.

It is basically an existential “time-out”—a way to “come up for a breath of air” out of the noisy clutter of the world.

But don’t be afraid, there is nothing arcane or supernatural or creepy about the notion of taking a time-out. Ball players do it. Kids do it, when prompted by their parents. Heck, even your computer does it (and sometimes not when you want it to).

So, why not you?

A meditation can be as simple as taking a series of easy breaths, and slowly, gently counting to ten in your mind.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Remembering the Dream

When you wake up from a dream you have only a few precious moments before the details of the dream begin to dissipate and the memory fades.

Not all dreams are significant or worth remembering.

But the ones that are . . . happen again.

So, wait for the dream to return. And never be afraid. Instead, consider it an opportunity to learn something profound and possibly wondrous about yourself.

Friday, December 17, 2010

Perfect Justice

Justice based purely on laws is about as accurate as a portrait created out of large low-resolution color pixels.

If you stand back far enough it looks good.

Come any closer and the glaring approximations overtake all semblance of the original.

Justice should be viewable under the microscope, not from a telescope.

And for that it needs to be based not on law but on truth.

Saturday, December 11, 2010

Invisible Tuxedo

What is it about wearing a tuxedo or that little black dress, that makes us feel confident, beautiful, splendid, even invincible?

We put on formal wear and suddenly we become extraordinary.

On the days when you feel low and invisible, why not try this on for size: imagine you are wearing a fantastic tailored tuxedo or a stunning formal gown.

And then proceed with your day.

Friday, December 10, 2010

Gingerbread Room

The Gingerbread House has four walls, a roof, a door, a window, and a chimney. It is decorated with many sweet culinary delights on the outside.

But on the inside there is nothing—only the bare gingerbread walls.

It is not a real house—not until you decide to add a Gingerbread Room.

That’s when the stories can move in.

They will stay in residence for as long as you abstain from taking the first gingerbread bite.

Thursday, December 09, 2010

Frost the Architect

Frost grows on the window glass, forming whorl patterns of lovely translucent geometry.

Breathe on the glass, and you give frost more ammunition.

Now it can build castles and cities and whole ice continents with your breath’s vapor.

In a few blinks you can almost see the winter fairies moving in . . .

But first, you hear the crackle of their wings.

Wednesday, December 08, 2010

Winter Fireworks

Colored lights blink on and off, racing across the green boughs. Their reflections dance across exquisite glass globes and splinter into shards against tinsel thread and garlands of metallic filaments that disappear underneath the other ornaments and finery.

Shadows follow, joyful, laughing sprites.

The tree is rich with potential wonder.

All it needs is a glance from you to come alive.

Tuesday, December 07, 2010

Faced with a Mountain

If you are faced with a mountain, you have several options.

You can climb it and cross to the other side.

You can go around it.

You can dig under it.

You can fly over it.

You can blow it up.

You can ignore it and pretend it’s not there.

You can turn around and go back the way you came.

Or you can stay on the mountain and make it your home.

Monday, December 06, 2010

The Hourglass

The sand in the hourglass runs from one compartment to the other, marking the passage of moments with something constant and tangible.

If you watch the flowing sand, you might see time itself riding the granules.

Contrary to popular opinion, time is not an old white-haired man, but a laughing child.

And time sings.

Sunday, December 05, 2010

Ice and Memory

Ice is most welcome in a cold drink on a hot day.

But in the heart of winter, you want a warm hot mug with your favorite soothing brew to keep the chill away.

When you don’t have anything warm at hand, even a memory can be a small substitute.

Remember a searing look of intimate eyes.

Receive the inner fire.

Saturday, December 04, 2010

Gift Giving

Gift giving is a true art.

1. You need to understand the person to whom you intend to give the gift.

2. You need to know what they truly want.

3. You must be able to give it to them.

Anything less is a symptom of varying degrees, on your part, of ignorance, distance, or insult.

But if you cannot afford the right gift, telling the person what you would do if you could, justifies everything—as you present that not-so-perfect substitute.

Friday, December 03, 2010

Earth Mother Days

Some women seem so voluptuous in every sense, richly bountiful and fertile with generous gifts of plenty, sensual and confident in their female strength that they are called “earth mothers.”

That’s how some days feel—when they are bountiful and fertile with the power of our imagination.

Thursday, December 02, 2010


Respect the young and chastise your elders.

It’s about time the world was set aright.

Wednesday, December 01, 2010

The Speaking Trees

Listen to the trees as they sway in the wind.

Their leaves are telling secrets. Their bark sings songs of olden days as it grows around the trunks. And their roots give names to all things.

Their language has been lost.

But not the gestures.

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

The Fountain

Unlike a fountain that circulates the same water in an enclosed, perpetually recycling system, a human being circulates thoughts in an unlimited reservoir of self.

Don’t limit yourself to being a mere fountain when you contain an ocean.

Monday, November 29, 2010

The Road

The wide open road is the single most hopeful thing in the world.

Look straight ahead and see it disappear into a point at the horizon.

That point is the future.

Seeing it, your lungs swell with joyful breath and buoyancy, and your heart feels a sweet nostalgic tug forward.

The road is calling!

Sometimes, it is the road home.

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Museum Awe

Some people think that museums are boring places filled with old things that no one cares about.

Tell them this:

The next time you enter a museum, walk quietly with stilled breath and sacred awe.

A museum is a holy shrine to the achievements of the human race.

It is in fact the most mind-blowing place to be, because it contains the only human-made things that are truly immortal.

Friday, November 26, 2010

Super Us

Ever been a one-person marching band? These days many of us are.

The last several years of financial, emotional and motivational turmoil have been incredibly challenging and tough in so many ways, which of course makes it very difficult to be creative. And at such a time, being creative is the one thing we have to be.

Almost requires a person to be superhuman to do it all.

You know what? Many of us are. What we do every day in order to pursue our dreams and at the same time hang in there and keep a roof over our heads and food in our bellies, is amazing. At one time or another, most of us are fulltime laborers, professionals, homemakers, nurturers, teachers, healers, inventors, providers, creators of artistic beauty, urban jungle warriors, saviors of the universe and everything else—all crammed into one person.

This really is the age of the super being. No wonder media supernatural heroes are so blazing-hot right now.

The world requires it.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Your Best Friend

Your best friend is sitting on your lap purring, and at your feet wagging his tail.

Curled in a soft ball, your best friend lies on the windowsill, or perches on top of the stuffed chair, to be near you.

When you come home, your best friend greets you at the door, dancing with joy, and watching you with impossible attention.

When you cry, your best friend gets up and comes to you unconditionally, so that you can put your hands on the warmth and rest against the beloved fur.

Don’t ever forget.

Don’t ever abandon them.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010


The greatest treasures cannot be stolen because they cannot be re-sold.

They can only be given away.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010


Signs of all great things are written right before our eyes, in a near invisible code of strangeness, wonder, and beauty. Sometimes it’s a shape, at others, a color, or a sound, a single pure note. It is also a scent, or a brief feather touch.

We look upon the world every day and see something simple, ordinary and commonplace.

But occasionally, something takes our breath away.

That’s when we are given a glimmer of the true signs.

Today, watch closely.

Monday, November 22, 2010

Elemental Feast

The Snow Queen married the Rain King.

Their children are Hail and Storm.

Behold their Feast.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Love at First Sight

Falling in love at first sight is no different than picking out the prefect dress.

It can happen.

But you still don’t know for sure until you’ve taken it to the dressing room and tried it on in front of a mirror.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Author’s Secret

No book is ever truly finished—the author simply makes the conscious agonizing choice to stop fiddling with it . . .

. . . and then there’s this thing called a deadline.

For that matter, no book is ever truly begun—the author stares at the blank sheet, starts drawing stick figures and monstrous ducks on the corners . . .

. . . and then there’s this thing called a deadline.

Friday, November 19, 2010

As the Rain

Rain beats against the world outside in torrential streams of sky water.

It washes away everything.

May our forgiveness do the same.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

The Queen of Flowers

The rose is the queen of flowers.

She is an amazing blossom that embodies beauty, elegance, and love. And pride—don’t forget the thorns. No other flower carries so much complexity, meaning, and impact through the ages.

What is this something about the regal rose that gives it such potent magic?

Look closely at the rose and answer for yourself.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Sense of Security

A sense of security is a precious state of mind—labor-intensive to achieve and precarious to sustain.

So many of us work hard for most of our lives just for a glimmer of it.

Security comes in so many flavors—personal, financial, emotional, spiritual, intellectual.

Never take your sense of security for granted.

Be a security guard for all.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Well Groomed

The next time you visit the cosmetics counter, browse those rows of powders and creams, and are overwhelmed with a million shades of lipstick, blush, foundation, and eyeliner—consider the cat.

All it needs to stay well groomed is its own saliva.

Monday, November 15, 2010

The Entrance

The still surface of a lake is a membrane separating the worlds of air and water.

It is a hair-thin sliver, as fine as a breath, the thickness of a blink, a single molecule of difference . . .

Along this edge lies the entrance to Faerie.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Some Puzzles

Not every puzzle is intended to be solved.

Some are in place to test your limits.

Others are, in fact, not puzzles at all . . .

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Smooth Polished Rock

A wise person is like a smoothly polished rock: it takes time to become either.

Friday, November 12, 2010

Coliseum of the Surreal

The poets huddle together in the corner like football players.

And the ball players are out before an audience, performing modern poetry in motion.

You sit watching, with your thumb ready to signal victory or defeat.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Reaching for Everything

When you reach for the stars, you are reaching for the farthest thing out there.

When you reach deep into yourself, it is the same thing, but in the opposite direction.

If you reach in both directions, you will have spanned the universe.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

The Fern and the Cactus

The cactus thrives in the desert while the fern thrives in the wetland.

The fool will try to plant them in the same flowerbox.

The florist will sigh and add a wall divider and proper soil to both sides.

The grandparent will move the flowerbox halfway out of the sun.

The child will turn it around properly so that the fern is in the shade, and not the cactus.

The moral of the story?

Kids are smart.

Tuesday, November 09, 2010

Tornado and Earthquake

A tornado of thought is unleashed after each new insight.

This in turn results in an earthquake of assumptions.

These are natural disasters that re-shape the spirit.

Monday, November 08, 2010

Love Potion

Once upon a time, a young man obtained a magic love potion and gave it to the young woman he loved.

The next day she left him.

Don’t worry about either one of them.

Sunday, November 07, 2010

The Hat of Inspiration

When you need a bit of inspiration, put on a hat.

And now imagine what it would be like to wear this hat every day. Imagine how the hat might change you, if you had to wear it always and could never take it off.

Now take off the hat.

Aren't you glad you can?

Saturday, November 06, 2010

Tough Times

When tough times come, it is particularly important to offset them with much gentle softness.

Be a pillow.

Friday, November 05, 2010

Motion Sensors

We are all glorified motion sensors.

Some things only become visible to us when they undergo change.

We take for granted all the constant, fixed things, and eventually stop paying any attention to them. At the same time we observe and obsess over small, fast-moving, ephemeral things of little value.

The trick to rediscovering constants is to stop and focus on the greater panorama around us. While everything else flits abut, the important things remain in place.

Their stillness appears as reverse motion to our perspective, as relativity resets our motion sensors. It reboots us, allowing us once again to perceive.

And now that we do see, suddenly we realize that those still things are not so motionless after all. They are simply gliding with slow individualistic grace against the backdrop of the immense universe.

And it takes a more sensitive motion instrument to track this.

Thursday, November 04, 2010

The Point of Light

The star is a tiny point of light in the deep that is the night heavens. Its distant neighbors are more distant than the farthest thing on earth we know.

The star is surrounded by an infinite number of other stars in a stream of light that is the galaxy.

The galaxy is a point of light and its closest neighbors are other galaxies in a cluster.

The galactic cluster is a point of light forming a sea of membranes and strings wound and coiled inward and outward.

The strings and membranes recede into a point of light that is but one in a shower of the sparks hitting the grate of your fireplace.

You blink.

Wednesday, November 03, 2010

Sugar and Salt

Neither sugar nor salt tastes particularly good by itself. Each is at its best when used to season other things.

Love is the same way.

Use it to “season” people.

Tuesday, November 02, 2010

The Master of the Garden

The master of the garden is the one who waters it, trims the branches, plants the seeds, and pulls the weeds.

If you merely stroll through the garden, you are but an acolyte.

Monday, November 01, 2010

In the Plains

In the plains the grass grows tall, since there is no one to cut it.

There is no one to water it either.

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Darkness and Radiance

The autumn wind blows numbing cold and twilight paints the evening indigo.

The orange carved pumpkin sits on the windowsill, grinning like the moon’s strange cousin, and its teeth are flames.

Don’t be afraid.

You carry our own heat inside you, and it is stronger than anything.

In the closing darkness, radiate the sunflower-golden warmth and put the Jack-o’-Lantern to shame . . .

Saturday, October 30, 2010


Fascination can lead us into really strange places.

Some are marvelous, some are dangerous, some are fascinating in themselves.

Fascination is one of the many faces of inspiration. It is the first glimmer of the great shining golden hoard just around the corner . . .

Just be prepared to find fool’s gold most of the time.

Friday, October 29, 2010

Mobile Riches

It's easier for a rich man to ride that camel through the eye of a needle directly into the Kingdom of Heaven, than for some of us to give up our cell phone.

Thursday, October 28, 2010


Never look directly at the sun.

Instead, look at the sunflower.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Exception to the Rules

To every rule there is an exception—and an idiot ready to demonstrate it.

Don't be the one!

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Vegetable Secret

No one hates vegetables.

Instead, everyone hates to eat boringly prepared, bland, sterile, flavorless, washed-out, unseasoned food.

The vegetables are crying out to you:

“Spice me up! Pour interesting sauce over me! Mate me with compatible flavors! Put me in worthy recipes! Treat me as a worthy main course, not an afterthought side dish! Oh, and enough with that dull horrid steaming already!”

Listen to the vegetables.

Then, prepare to be amazed.

Monday, October 25, 2010

Urban Unicorn

The unicorn flickers in and out of your field of vision. It is white, or possibly steel.

Watch from the corner of your eye as it soars past the cars and the landmarks, as the streets unfold and the buildings tower.

The unicorn cannot fly.

But it moves faster than you can imagine, creating the illusion.

No one else can see it but you. And even you may not see it again, unless you feel the same moment of perfect clarity that allowed you to remember everything—to hum the perfect song and pronounce the unicorn's true name.

And discover yours.

Sunday, October 24, 2010

The Best Things

The best things—both material and intangible—in life are earned.

But occasionally certain unexpected good things come to us as a rare and precious gift, almost out of the blue.

How does that work?

To find out, give a small heartfelt gift to someone, today.

Saturday, October 23, 2010


There’s a difference between playing and playing games.

The former is an act of joy, the latter—an act.

Friday, October 22, 2010

Regardless of Season

If you feed the birds and squirrels regardless of season, if you set out a dish for the possums and the raccoons when the weather intensifies, you are the secret master of the world.

Don’t tell anyone how it works. They may only figure it out for themselves.

Thursday, October 21, 2010


Maps are things of magic.

You look at the world flattened into two dimensions on paper, and yet imagine it in infinite layers, directions, and transparencies.

What is a map of a human being?

The palm of your hand.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Good Book

Whenever your read a good book, somewhere in the world a door opens to allow in more light.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Far Seeing

Sunlight shimmers upon the waters like broken shards of a mirror.

Squint and look out across the ocean at the horizon.

You are seeing the future and the past, rolled into one.

Somewhere, thousands of years ago, another stood in your place, and looked and saw the same horizon.

Monday, October 18, 2010

The First Tree

The first tree grew in a forest of grass and lesser shrubs.

At first it was like all the rest. And then it kept growing, rising to tower over the other vegetation.

At some point it knew it was tall and different and strong.

The tree, new and self-aware, defined and named itself.

So must you.

Sunday, October 17, 2010

The Pyramid

The pyramid shape is said to hold many secrets and amazing properties.

One of them is a sense of wonder.

Saturday, October 16, 2010

The City

In a haze of fog and smog the city shapes itself in the distance, angular skyscrapers marking the skyline with dreary man-made geometry.

But with evening, golden lights appear in windows, winking into existence like fireflies, until the city is a jewel of infinite blinking eyes.

This is what takes place inside us at the moment of insight.

Friday, October 15, 2010

October Moon

Something wonderful happens to the moon in October. First it grows plump and yellow, transforming into a juicy peach, then into a bright orange pumpkin—great and fat and ripe like the last harvest.

The full moon floats in the cooling sky that has lost the last of its bright summer blue, and can only display the indigo and silver grays.

The season of depth has arrived.

Time to turn inward.

Thursday, October 14, 2010


One of the most difficult things in life is losing a home for which you’ve worked all your life.

There are no words.

The heart bleeds.

Then you pick up the objects that mean home to you. And you pack them up, and you uproot yourself and your loved ones.

And you go to plant your heart in a new spot of earth. Good thing the world is a big wondrous place.

And every inch of it is home.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

The Invention

A very long time ago, when the world was plain, a brilliant scientist invented a wonderful mysterious device. When touched, it inspired you.

People from everywhere came to touch the device—and were inspired to create problems, solve all masterpieces, heal the hungry and feed the sick. Others were inspired to invent even more amazing inventions. Soon, the world filled with technological wonders.

Because so many people touched it, the device eventually wore down and stopped working. And when the oceans rose to swallow land and rearrange the continents, everything that was left of the inspired civilization sank to the bottom.

But the memory of inspiration remains to this day. It’s why so many of us unconsciously reach out to touch the things of the world, and why we reach out for each other.

There’s something to be invented.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010


Every year, the sun goes on a honeymoon to warmer climes—or is it that it brings the warmth with it, transforming the places it visits?

We, meanwhile, are left to bask in the residue of its loving glow.

It is just barely enough.

But love always returns the following year.

Monday, October 11, 2010


A great ancient poet was blind.

A great classical composer was deaf.

Many of us are dumb.

What have we to show for it?

Sunday, October 10, 2010

Broken Vase

A fine glass vase goes from treasure to trash, the moment it is broken.

Fortunately, something else happens to you and me.

Pick up your pieces.

Then, help me gather mine.

Saturday, October 09, 2010

Message in a Klein Bottle

An infinitely self-replicating yet unending pattern suggests something about the flow of our lives.

Truth is inside-out.

Friday, October 08, 2010


Freedom is not a license to act but a license to exercise free choices in any given situation.

It is not a “free-for-all” but a “free-to-choose.”

Always use tact, subtlety, mercy, compassion—in other words, your best judgment—to interpret your final choice wisely.

Because everyone else is making the same difficult choices as you are.

Freedom is a thing shared.

Thursday, October 07, 2010

The Weight of the World

The weight of the world is a trifle, if we all put our two fingers under it and try to lift together.

Tuesday, October 05, 2010

Hold the Moon in Your Hand

Who says you cannot hold the moon in your hand?

Tonight when the stars come out and the moon rises in the velvet sky, look outside your window, then raise your hand and position your fingers around the disk of light.

There you go . . .

That was easy!

Sunday, October 03, 2010

From the Potbellied Jar

Find an ancient potbellied jar buried in the sand. Rub its sides to clear the dust, and uncork it, to release a genie.

When the genie offers you three wishes, tell him you will think on it. Meanwhile, ask the genie about his own life in those thousands of years gone by—stories of the ancient sunlit times, and the days of legend.

As the genie settles next to you, you listen. And the two of you sip tea and share secrets, while the years again pass by.

When your first gray hairs appear, tell the genie you no longer need three wishes granted, only one. And then, spend the remaining days of your lifetime deciding on that one wish.

In the end, you thank the genie. And with your last and only wish you set him free.

He did grant you, after all, exactly what was unasked.