I have been moved these last few months, by the death of a few people I was close to. With what I do and how much I am around death, it comes as no surprise that it makes me think of my own mortality, and how much I have or have not lived. It always forces me to ask questions of my existence in regards to what kind of person have I been so far, have I loved as much as I could, how have I been as a husband or dad, am I walking the walk with my faith, how much of me is protected and guarded yet, etc. I have all these questions rolling around in my head simply because death is final...there is no way to make any of those questions resolve once you are gone. It makes me wonder how those who are close to me may deal with life without me. Not that I am planning on going anywhere soon, but I wonder what life would be like without me.

That is not an arrogant question as if life depends on my own existence to make it legitimate or fulfilling, rather I am around people all the time who deal with life now that their loved one is gone. And what I see and experience with them is varied from massive grief, to relief, to lonliness to anger. Their lives are now filled with that void that needs to be filled in somwhow with time. Perhaps the more full a person lived, leaves all the bigger hole that needs to be filled. When one squeezes so much into the time span they live, there is only so much that can be replaced once they are gone. Life was enjoyable, meaningful, and movable with those we loved and were close to. Imagine what that life looks like now for those who are left. I thought about all this as I wrote my latest poem. It seems morbid or even as a final notation of my thoughts before life ends, but I wanted to ask these questions or place these thoughts in such a way that life can not be the same for me without them nor will it be the same without me. I guess I do not want those who are left without me, to have to answer those questions on their own without knowing that I posed those questions with the intent of answering them now, before there is no possible way of resolution. More later...

end the question
12.30.07

what would you do without me?
would you miss everything about me?
could you be happy without me?
who would replace the space of me?
could you take long walks without me?
would you eat alone without thinking of me?
could you sleep at night without me
listening to the rhythm of your breath?
wouldn’t you miss the touch of my hand
gently caressing your cheek?
could you wake up each morning knowing
that you wouldn’t hear my voice anymore?
would you be willing to laugh at
what made me funny and odd?
how many moments of boredom or apathy
would run through your mind without me?
would you remember the conversations
of anger and resentment,
frustrating the commitment we strongly made?
would you remember the moment
we felt one another the first time?
when would you look at old pictures
of you and i, or maybe me, or all of us?
would you grieve the moments unmade, unlived?
would you listen to music in the same way?
would you cry in the shower so as not to let
anyone know you have been crying?
how many places will you see knowing
that i was there without you or with you?
how many words will you repeat knowing
that those were the same words i used with you?
how much more love could i have squeezed out of me
to let you know that i cannot take you for granted?
how much more love would i have felt for you
had i not thought about myself?
how much more of a decent man could i have been
for you when you needed me to shut up and listen?
when would i have known that all it took
was to try harder in my commitment to you
and to the life, love, and faith that we shared?
would you regret anything about me?
would you be ashamed of anything that i said or did?
would you be able to forgive me?
what kind of parent would you be without me?
would my child remember my face, my voice, my faith?
would he grow up knowing that i lived to love him,
that he helped me be a better man and a better person?
would you call my parents and talk to them?
how often would you visit me?
would you stand in the sunlight
and try to feel my presence there?
when would you open your eyes from that moment?
would you be able to feel the ground beneath you?
if you drove away from there, would you
remember me even more than yesterday?
would you remember my eyes?
would you remember my face?
would you remember my heart?
now can you think of what you would do without me
while i am here, breathing and alive…waiting?
“Can you see me, feel me, become me?”

Here is my top ten list of CDs released this year, well at least I think they are pretty good. Thus the list of my opinion. These releases cover a few varied genres...mostly metal or progressive metal. I think these are the top ten as they are all CDs that I constantly listened to throughout the year...constant rotation in my playlist on the Ipod! Perhaps you will agree with me or not, but if you choose to disagree, please add your own choice...well, within reason of course! I mean, please do not try and pollute this list with some terrible country CD. That would be sacrilegious of course! Here goes:

10) Demon Hunter - Storm The Gates Of Hell












9 W.A.S.P. - Dominator












8) Poverty's No Crime - Save My Soul












7) Serenity - Words Untold & Dreams Unlived












6) Saga - 10,000 Days

5) Marillion - Somewhere Else












4) Porcupine Tree - Fear Of A Blank Planet












3) Neal Morse - Sola Scriptura

2) Threshold - Dead Reckoning












1) Dream Theater - Systematic Chaos

That Boy Could Sing! Part One...

I was cleaning my trusty steed tonight, and tucked into a crevice were these CDs. I forgot I had them. They are Campfires '92 and More Campfires '94 from Camp Metigoshe. I remember I had the tapes, but a friend of mine put them on CD for me. As I type this, I am listening to them right now. The summer of '93 when I was a counselor there along with Bram and quite a few others, we did this musical that our director wrote. During that summer, we went into a recording studio in Minot, and recorded these songs we were all singing that summer. You know, the classics! But, then we recorded these songs from the musical we were doing every week. There was a song called "Blessed to be a Blessing." I remember when we first learned it, Bram would take the high harmonies, and would just soar above everyone else. Well, I just heard that song for the first time in a long time, and wouldn't you know it, there's Bram's voice signing that high harmony! It's beautiful to actually hear his voice singing away like that.

Bram was so gifted when it came to singing. Our senior year in high school, we formed this acapella group - Me, Bram, Chris, and Frank. We actually did quite well. Although when I tried to name the group "Northern Lights," Bram was very vocal about his disdain for the name. I can't say it was a great name, but it was a name. We tried to sing songs by Glad, Accapella, Take 6 (that was unsuccessful, but we tried), and then whatever else Chris wanted us to try. I remember we sang for our church, we sang in Bismarck at some high school for a competition, and then I remember we sang at our own high school talent show. It was very cool, but then to sing with some talented guys made it seem easy.

Bram definitely had that gift of being able to hear that harmony without needing some kind of help. He could always find that middle pitch well, and then he would sing it flawless. When he and I would write music, he would always find that harmony from me, and because we both had voices that sounded alike, we would blend really well together. I miss that energy he had when it came to writing lyrics and then sitting down to actually chord things out. We wrote maybe six or seven songs together, and they were alright. One in particular, I can sing most of...our worship band a few years ago, warmed up with those chords from that song Bram and I wrote. I think it was called, "Love," and it was very, very influenced by a band called Lightning Seeds, which Bram and I were obsessed with. We played "Love" twice in public. Once at Kim Cook's sweet 16 party, and the other was at our high school talent show. I wish I had a recording of that song. I still remember singing that song for that talent show, and when we heard the applause, I looked down and saw Amber Peterson wiping the tears away. That was the power of Bram's voice...able to make the girls swoon. Well, at least, a few girls that I remember.

Anyway, I miss those days. They were all so unexpected...nothing happened out of routine or because we were bored (Que the Pet Shop Boys singing "Being Boring" here). We had fun, mostly got along, and had lots of memories made then. I remember being with our girlfriends at the time, at his house, pretending to watch movies. Course, we did not watch movies much with them. I just remember hoping and praying to God that Bram's Mom would not come down stairs and ruin the moment, er, uh, movie night! I remember sleeping on Bram's bed and he would literally take every damn cover on that bed, wrap himself into a cocoon of blankets, and leave me out in the cold. I eventually began to search out my own bedding at his house. I remember playing Nintendo with him...he was very competitive when it came to any game, especially Mario Bros. Those were good times. We both had moments of teenage jealousy or moments of frustration (mostly it was me who got frustrated about Bram, since he would always insist on just being himself...it would rarely, but at times, piss me off...because I wanted to be that way. He just did it better, and he would get away with it well. I then would slink off and not call him for a day or two. God I was so uptight then!). It was Bram who taught me how to sing, how to be sensitive, how to have somewhat of a care for what I wore, and he taught me how to smell good. He just gave me some kind of self-confidence, and reassurance that I am unique and individual. Giving me all that helped me get through some weird, bad times in high school. Hell, it all helped me get through high school.

Yeah, I am feeling nostalgic right now. I guess we all do at times. I just remember being around him were some of the best times of my life. It was then too, that we both vowed that if we were not married by the time we were thirty, we were going to move to Minneapolis, turn gay (how that's done by choice is beyond me, but we were willing to learn), own two cats, live in a big studio apartment, and eat rice and chicken three times a week. He was going to be an artist and I was going to write books. I remember that plan. What the hell were we thinking? I remember that he and I were convinced that we would not find anyone who would want to remotely put up with either of us, so we figured we would for each other. That was our way of looking at the possibilities of marital bliss... What did we know... 30 seemed like an eternity away. Now I wish I was 17 all over again now that I have reached 30 plus 3. More later...

My admission, My rant, My "mea culpa," My life...

I am officially recovering from the Christmas insanity that occurred at church. Unlike last year, where the Sunday of Christmas eve, we also had two worship services in the morning, this year was a bit better. I got to preach this year at the 3 and 5, which was very cool. I did a first-person sermon through the eyes of a sheep, sitting on the outskirts of Bethlehem Christmas night. It actually worked really well. I was a bit spent though, after 3, and so the 5 sermon was still there, but not as catchy or maybe as humorous as the 3 was. But, it was still fun to do. Then, at the 10, my colleague and I offered a few reflections on why God is with us. That was very cool. That service just has a different tone. Very quiet, reflective, very soft. Yet, we were quite honest about living this life as God is with us, and that message is not always meant to be soft and fluffy. It was real, and honest.

Between the 5 and 10, I went home, scarfed down some lasagna and salad, with the cheesy bread, talked to our good friend Deb who was there, having come to the 3 worship. We opened gifts, and then I crashed. It was hard to get back up, put the church clothes back on, and do it all over. I just was about empty. You know, I was having this conversation with my colleague. His daughter asked him the other day, "Aren't you excited for Christmas?" To which he said, "Yeah, I guess." To which she said, "Why aren't you really excited?" "Well, it's difficult for me as a pastor to be excited about Christmas. See, it's our job as pastors to help others have an enjoyable, worshipful Christmas, and that can take a lot of you. It's difficult to enjoy it when you lead worship multiple times. It can be tiring." He said this to me, and it made sense. I am tired every year I go through this. Not like a "drowsy, hey I had one too many cocktails last night" kind of tired. But this is more like a "I am finally done with all of my college finals...time to crash" kind of tired! So, I spent most of yesterday just being a zombie. I am finally feeling alright today. I just cannot believe that Christmas as we know it, is over. Christmas just came very fast this year for some reason. I guess this fall has not been slow at all. Considering all the major life events this fall that have surrounded me, I can see why I have not been all that attentive to calendar nor have I wanted to. I found myself during worship this year, just sort of numb to the fact that I was there, leading worship along with my colleague, and I wasn't really feeling it. I have felt like I was giving God praise leading worship on other Christmas eves, but this year, I just did completely feel it. Does that make me a terrible pastor?

You know, it's different with this life...this job, this calling. Very few of us appreciate what it's really like, and those who are on the outside of what a pastor's life is really like, has no clue as to how it can really affect a person, their family, and their spirit. I am not saying that I can't stand what I do or that I am pitying myself. In fact, I love what I do. But, I wish that the entire church could stand in the pulpit, look out at four hundred faces, and be able to give a Christmas message from the heart, even though inside, that need to worship as well, is not being met. I feel the same way when Easter gets here too. I just want to worship, but it's not always fully possible when you are called to lead others into it with your heart, your attention, and your time. I asked a pastor friend of mine the other day, "Do you think people really appreciate what we're doing?" And he said, "Yeah most people do I think. But, there are always going to be those who will take us for granted. We give them what they expect, and that's what they want." I think of my friend who is a Roman Catholic priest who has such a good humor about his calling, and yet he is very realistic about how the church is in competition for people's time.

Anyway, this Christmas has been strange among all the others I have been privileged to lead worship for. Maybe this year has been strange. I just know that part of this gig as being pastor, is that I get to do things, see things, be a part of people's lives like nobody else. I see the darkness and the brightness of the human heart constantly. I get to be with people in the most horrible gut wrenching moments of loss, and I get to be with people in the most joyful, outpouring of tears moments of celebration. Then, I get to live in between those moments. Alot of good ministry is done in those moments. It's those moments of one on one prayers with a 95 year old, doing a rap with the third grade girls at the Christmas play, or giving communion to someone who has hours to live...those are the moments that nobody else experiences as I do. That's the richness of living this life acknowledging the spiritual and the temporal right in the front of me, in front of others. That's the beauty of living in the interlocking of God's kingdom with this one we call here and now. I get to be a part of how the kingdom looks like here. I get to help people bring the kingdom of God here so that it looks more like who God is and not who we are. I guess I forgot about all that this Christmas. Maybe for me, I know that the best parts of me and what I give to worship come not just on that one night, but the rest of the year. I worship with those people, in those moments, that I don't need a pulpit to lead from, or four hundred other faces to see. I worship God mostly...just Him and me. That's the most rewarding because it's honest. I cannot fake it when it's God and me, alone. God sees my heart. He knows what I am offering. Maybe that's why I am tired this Christmas. Because I offered all I had. How do I get that energy back to recharge my Spirit? I have the first two seasons of CSI: Miami to keep me occupied! Is there anyone cooler than David Caruso? More later...

We had our staff Christmas lunchoen today, thanks to my colleague who graciously took us out to one of our local Italian places. I love Madison, partly because of all the restaurant choices and variety. I mean, if I want Thai, I can have it. If I want some good ribs, I can have them. If I want to go to some place Italian, other than Olive Garden, I can go there. You get my point. Well, we went to Benvenutos, which is this local place, very good. Prices are way cheaper than OG, and I think the food is way better! This afternoon, I had the garlic shrimp fettucini. Now, I realized I should have thought about it before I ordered, but anything with the word "garlic" in it, should clue me in as to what I might be in for. So, I begin to chow down. Now, I like garlic in my food, but when the garlic is cut into some serious size chunks, I know that I will be chomping my Orbit "spearmint" gum to help people come near me closer than ten feet! It was very good, but then again, if I ever have a sudden craving for cooked, elephant garlic cloves, boy do I know where to go! You know, I am just so thankful to go to lunch like that with such a great church staff. They make this job enjoyable and fun. I am fortunate to work with some very great people. They are the ones who make me become better at what I do, and I am really grateful for their hard work. So, we all ate in celebration of making it through this year together as a team. But, they are all keeping their distance from me. I wonder why? More later...

Why I Am Lutheran!!!

Why I am Lutheran? These are the most widely known reasons...

I am Lutheran because my faith is dependent upon me getting something out of church each and every time I come once a week, knowing that my ears will hear a message of grace and forgiveness so that I can somehow feel better about myself for another week. Oh, and I keep hearing about this Jesus and how I should make him the Lord of my life, but I am content to live life just knowing he died for me.

I am Lutheran because I do not really want to hear the fine tension between law and gospel, even though I know what those terms mean.

I am Lutheran because like the Israelites had Abraham as their father and they rode his coat-tails on that identity, so too do I ride on the fact that I am a member of a church, maybe for fifty years, and that one church IS MY church, so therefore I own that church, and I have controlling interest as to how my money is spent, who gets to sit where, who I call for my pastor, taking notice of all the dirty spots on the narthex carpeting, and don't even get me started about how I feel about how my church has drums, guitar, and piano in church....that is just not right!

I am Lutheran because the only instrument that is qualified to accompany any and all singing as a solo or a congregation, is of course the organ, preferably 5 or more consoles with multiple pipes for an added sense of grandeur!

I am Lutheran because my church does not expect anything from me, and I can therefore blend into the crowd as I come in and out if its life.

I am Lutheran because my church does not teach the bible at all...well, ok, the pastor teaches me on Sunday, but that's about all the bible I need to get me through.

I am Lutheran because I can belong to a church, become a member, come to worship once a year, commune once a year, give as much as five bucks, and still receive the church newsletter, vote at the annual meeting, expect my pastor to visit me in the hospital (even though I have not called the church or told anyone to call the church to let them know I am there) whenever I am there, know my family and my kids, know my occupation, know that I am a good person and that I do not struggle with anything, and that I would raise hell if the church asked me for any of my time.

I am Lutheran because my parents were Lutheran. Their parents were Lutheran. Their parents were Lutheran. Their parents were Lutheran even before they left Norway (Sweden for you heathen!).

I am Lutheran because I know what delicious food tastes like, smells like, and looks like. I can describe to you in great details what lutefisk is, what German potato salad is, and just how many carrot shavings are allowable in orange or green jello! I use my fine culinary skills for every funeral the church has, and am disappointed when the pastors do not complement me and my co-workers for our developed skills of offering the cheapest of ham sandwiches and the richest of hotdishes...including one with green beans!

I am Lutheran because I along with my cohorts, own every inch of the church's kitchen! I know how many forks, knives, coffee cups, saucers, trays, and Nescos are behind the cabinet doors. I can describe verbatim, the operating instructions for the Hobart dishwasher, although I am not willing to actually run it, because that would take away from my hosting duties! I of course, am also very offended when intruders decide to use the kitchen and leave anything out, ignoring its rightful place of existence. I am Lutheran because my kitchen is as sacred as the sanctuary itself!

I am Lutheran because I rely on other people to do the difficult work of actually serving the church. I do this because I do not have the time, I feel I am not all that competent to do whatever it is, and that I may have actually done my time in the past to serve the church. I choose now to willingly stand on the sidelines even though I along with my other Lutheran friends, have not decided to give up and let go of the reins so that the younger generations below us can do things maybe even better. I am Lutheran because I do not want to participate, but I love to control the church.

I am Lutheran because I feel I need communion once a week. And that communion needs to be at every service just in case I feel I need to come to the second service, because I overslept from last night's Lawrence Welk marathon. I need to receive communion on my knees up front around the altar, because it makes me seem more humble if I am seen that way. And don't even get me started about the whole intinction thing. Nothing but communion as a drive-through option!

I am Lutheran because I want my kids to come to confirmation when they feel like it. I will of course expect my pastor to understand that sports are what keeps my child happy, so as long as they want to do it, and they are good at it, my pastor needs to understand then why we cannot come to worship on Sunday or Saturday, because we are always out of town for games, meets, tournaments, matches, semi-finals, or finals! And I expect my pastor to compromise his expectations for my child because we are a church of grace...doesn't everyone get confirmed? I also need my pastor to understand that my child needs to leave early on Wednesdays before confirmation gets done because he/she needs to go to practice. And I do not think it's right that my child do sermon notes, worship participation things like acolyting, ushering, etc., and that my child should be allowed to not come to Sunday School...I mean, come on, that was over after their third grade year!!! I am Lutheran because I want my child to be confirmed even though I have no intention to fulfill the promises I made on behalf of my child the day he/she was baptized!

I am Lutheran because I was baptized Lutheran, went to Lutheran sunday school, went to Lutheran confirmation, left church after confirmation, went to a Lutheran college, came back to the Lutheran church to be married there, had my kids baptized Lutheran, they did all the things I did when I was their age in the Lutheran church, and of course, I will have my funeral in a Lutheran church. I mean isn't that the point of life anyway...to make to heaven because I was such a good Lutheran...er, person?

I am Lutheran because that's all I know, all I have ever known, and all I ever will know!

More later...

I Miss My Friend Bram! Two months, and I still cannot quite believe that everything really happened. I still feel as if I have not been awakened from this horrible nightmare in losing my friend. God, I wish he was around so I could maybe have one more smoke with him, one more drink with him, and tell him I love him one more time.

I love this song by Porcupine Tree! It's called "Lazarus." The beauty in this song for me, is that this song is sad and happy at the same time. I definitely learned very early with Bram how to enjoy music that had both of these qualities, and to be inspired by the tension of both happy and sad. Definitely a beautiful song. I hope you enjoy it. More later...

Allow me to tell you my newfound realization! I AM TIRED OF SNOW! I am glad that I have a snow blower to clear out my driveway and of course the damn mess that the plow leaves at the bottom of the driveway. Actually, that's the worst part. It piles up and is like twice the thickness of the snow that originally fell on the driveway and adjacent sidewalk. Pisses me off! Now, the entrance at the bottom of my driveway is at least half of the regular width of my driveway because of the said plow issues. So, when you drive into the driveway, you actually have to maneuver into the garage carefully, as well as backing out. That's interesting too. Anyone backing up may suffer the wrath of the piled snow at the bottom of my driveway, as one might happen to back up into said pile of snow guarding my house as if they are pillars of deservable death and retribution. Oh yeah, you know you have too much snow at the corners of your driveway piled up, that you can barely see the mailbox from under all of it! I wish I was eight again when I would make use of piles such as those and tunnel into them to make snow forts, or igloos depending on my mood. I made some very cool forts that way, but I had no one as my enemy to defend it against. Well, my newborn sister was around but she had a hard time just holding her head up, much less making snow balls to pelt her brother with so as to defeat him and claim victory for the fort!

You know, I wish I was like the guy across the street from us who works for a construction company somewhere in Madison. He just brings home a Bobcat from work, and clears out his drive that way. And he is done in 3.8 seconds flat! Plus it's damn cool to clear out the driveway with something that resembles a miniature tank...sort of and without the big gun on top. It's also days like today that I am happy that I have my trusty steed to blow through town in, as the village of Oregon definitely is not all that quick on the draw clearing out any of the side streets. I needed the four wheel drive to actually push through the driveway to get into church and then later, into my own driveway (as I type this, the village plows still have not come down our street to make a path...and we have a cop who lives down the street...you'd think he might have some pull). Oh well, this is of course, what I get living in suburbia as I do. I like it here, even when it resembles Antarctica or the North Dakota of my youth when snow would be at least eight feet high...and that was in June! More later...

I am not really enjoying church too much lately. Namely because I feel like I see things right now, for what they are. I may have been too eager to see things with blinders on. I think after Bram's death, I just realize that I do not have time to play these fucking games in church about who gets to decide what color the ornaments should be on the sanctuary Christmas tree! I am feeling some pressure from the top down to do something that I frankly feel, I am not all that qualified to do (begin a small group ministry in a traditional Lutheran church setting!). So that's making me nuts, and it makes me feel as if those I answer to have not been listening to me, as I have said that very thing before. They knew that before they called me, I was not at all experienced to do this one thing. Now, I am being told that we need to have some sort of plan in place. Well, I know that the team I working on is more than capable of actually articulating that plan, but they are not ready to do that. I told this to the top down, and they are convinced it is a leadership issue. No shit! If I have never done this thing I am being asked to do, it will take some time to actually learn how I am to be a leader in actually articulating this plan. Maybe it's just me, but I feel too much pressure to put out something, that could equal that of a half-baked turd!

Frankly, this church does not deserve that. I want to be able to do my best, and offer the best kinds of things I can. To present something half-cocked is not going to do any good as it will not foster longevity. Small group ministry in a traditional Lutheran church may look good on paper, but when it comes to actually putting the ideas down, and following through on them, no one is qualified or experienced at all to even think about the best beginning point. I am not the type of person to do something without taking the time to learn about it. For fuck sake, I have been trying to work with this team since last April, and I am being told that the top down needs to be informed of our progress...bite me! Leave me and my team alone to do what we need to do without your damn opinions. Actually, I am thinking lately, that I may be mismatched to actually do this. But, I just keep trying to plug along. To be honest, since Bram's death, I have not been all that plugged into this group of mine, and it shows. I was ready to go somewhere before Bram's death with this group, but now I see things more clearly. At least, that we are not where we though we were, where I thought we were.

I love the idea of having a small group ministry in church, but it is not all enjoyable when you are the guy to have to design it, group it, plan it, report it, and then execute it. I am so not a detail guy. I hate details. I can see big pictures, but then to focus them is not all that good for me. Details are hard for me to prioritize and then do them that way. I get so lost in the details, worrying about getting them all done, instead of worrying about one at a time. Sometimes I wish I had OCD! DAMMIT! Anyway, I am done with my woe-is-me confession. But, you know I need to vent here. God knows that the top down does not take my concerns all that well. I am feeling that there are glimpses here of my former church. And that is not a good thing people. God, maybe it's me. Maybe I am the problem. I have these daydreams about getting out of the whole ministry thing altogether. The pressure that comes with this job sometimes, is not worth it. Life is too short for me to be stressed out about small group ministry. Too many other concerns are important first, but the top down believes that small group ministry will somehow be the savior of us all. That this ministry will somehow fix these concerns. Bullshit! I am not convinced it will.

I guess the other day, I really began to think about what I would do if I threw in the towel and left ministry permanently. I look out from the pulpit and I see tired, unresponsive faces, who are in church for something...I am not sure what. When people are asked to step up and take care of their church, they do not. I hate that. I am discouraged by seeing too many faces in church to just be there, and do nothing else. I figure at times, why try if people are already checked out? Defeatist? Me? Maybe. But, I have seen this before. Hours and care go into things to make ministry better in a church, and people by their disinterest, show that they are not interested in changing their life in the church. I am glad Jesus loves them. Because sometimes I do not have the strength to do it. Thank God Jesus is Jesus, and I am not. I like it that way! More later...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY COLLIN!

My wife and I are the proud parents of a three year old as of today. My boy turned the big "03" at about 1:25 this afternoon. I cannot believe I have a three year old. I have a friend who recently told me that he is the father of a teenager, who happens to go to the same junior high where this friend of mine and I met when we were that very age. I think without saying it to each other, we both felt old; like time had just been nothing but a blur. The next thing I know, my son will be 18, graduating high school, and going off to college or whatever else he wants to do. I have just a difficult time understanding where the last three years went. I am not sure how I am going to adjust to my son getting older, going off to school, making friends, trying to fit in, trying school activities, maybe having his first crush or having his heart broken.

These are all things I am not looking forward to, mainly because they will prove to me that my son is aging, getting older, and somehow I am too. I worry about him even now at day care. Maybe that's because I want to protect him from all the damn shallow evils of what other kids are capable of. I know I cannot do that, but I want to. I have this thing I do at night after my wife and son have gone to bed before me. I usually walk into his room and look at his face, which is illuminated by the Thomas the Tank Engine nightlight. I lean down and kiss his head, and tell him I love him. I stand and look at him one last time, as if that is going to be the last time I ever see his face. I remember that moment, because that's the image I want in my head as I fall asleep. I am so happy to be the father of a three year old, magnificent boy who is growing so fast...all I want to do is slow my life down long enough to watch him grow up before I miss it. Happy Birthday Collin! Love ya, buddy! More later...

This is my latest poem. I guess I was thinking about how we really are separated from one another and as we live in our own tight bubble of coroporate productivity or self-aggrandizing delusions of how we are well off and superior to others who have little, I started to think about the separation of people. Yet, in that separation, people become addicted to their own little corner of mediocrity. Their lives are a series of things they have done before...nothing comes as a challenge to believe in a greater driving force to live. For me, this does us no good if we are to leave this place more connected and nurtured than we found it. It's strange...my mind works very fast when I write, so the ideas come in a second...funny how this idea has stayed with me for a while.

eyes apart
11.30.07

all things around me are vacantly alone…
the blank stares from people beside me
leave me staring into what they look at.
i question the distance they must feel inside.
silence between everyone is contagious…
their splintering souls need love or time.
but it’s the mystery of the body within
that drives misery from the hiding places.
emerging with closed hands and cold skin,
humanity crawls to view the world in motion.
the noise of words drown out silence…
peace stands in-between the weak and ignored.
once again, the emptiness is vacant
of any instant connection of brand new trust.
validation of the soul is in the background…
i see thousands with hands held out for touch,
and yet they are pushed further back
into waiting for the pace of the world to notice.
they are their own blessing to each other
as no one else gets off the spinning
and teetering of the global ignorance of denial.
to save and feed, to love and to protect…
it seems the menu has a hidden expense
busy souls are already indebted to.
the space around their hearts into their
consciences might as well be a million miles.
an attitude of superiority suppresses
any shred of reply in compassion or decency.
humanity is in exile…away from suffering,
away from indifference, away from necessity.
realization of indecision lies dead and buried
by the realists who want their own needs first.
breaking the bread and drinking the wine
become rehearsed movements meaning nothing...
and so they quietly stare into the blank spaces
ahead of them, going into the moments of time.
they stare into the constant rotation of day and night,
of love and sex, of faith and doubt,
of jobs and pets, of school and luxury,
of sickness and gifts, of age and death.
unable to breathe freely from their hope,
they choke out the sunlight’s warmth from
the coldness that had been their life.
i see the blank faces stare at what they see,
and i begin to feel what separates them from me.
it is the distance of dread in a world of need.
the distance of high walls and far away emotion.
to be able to do nothing in a world that asks,
is taking its needs and executing their dreams of innocence.
and so i am left with this distance in my sight…i ask:
“when is it going to be alright for us all to stare at each other?”