This morning was crystal clear for me,
Go to the Y, go in the Y, sit at the table,
And drink coffee while writing.

I wore trail shoes, no compression shorts,
A heavy baseball cap, and an energy
Better suited for dangling modifiers than hill repeats.

Unfortunately, I made a travel miscalculation
Arriving at the Y before the morning runners had left,
I became a dutiful sheeple and headed out with them.

There was the usual banter,
The steepness of Sickle was the same,
All in all the run was great.

With plenty of time to kill before work
I committed to the computer for some writing,
When I got hit with a severe storm of questioning.

An older head than me began his morning inquisition,
He started with the front desk attendant,
Trying to figure out schedules from months before.

Then he turned to me,
Asking who invented mayonnaise, a coincidence
Maybe of the cosmic variety given my current motivational quote.

It goes something about Pittsburgh not smelling like mayo,
But I had no idea who invented to sandwich spread,
I answered, “No,” and buried my head behind the computer screen.

“How ‘bout dem geese?”

His question threw me off,
Geese? What geese? Where are the geese?
No, I’m not sure which ones are male or female.

He kept talking, I kept writing.
Eventually, I put the screen down,
His tales and wonder being more interesting than my writing.

I’m sure I’m better for listening,
My man is conversational every morning
With anyone who will listen. He needs to talk. I need to listen more.

Being able to let go of my ego,
That one nicknamed, “Peacock,” all those years ago
Could use a little selflessness more than every so often.

So on this day of the last run,
The karma gods, I know that’s not exactly right,
Reached into my soul and unlocked some more compassion.

By the way,
Male and female geese look alike, bigger equals male,
We looked it up…

Over in the corner rests lunch,
Water and a chocolate chip Cliff Bar.
Next to the buffet, a full power strip
Charges a phone and computer
While an ipod plays country tunes
With the gentle hum of an industrial
Pedastal fan blowing a coolness
Stirring a stack of folders and papers
In the other corner.

Ah, office life…

Rest for a moment
Words of war
Make wounds, not peace
Take time in your grief
For striking under a temper’s heat
Cannot soothe the coldness
Of an unnecessary death

Endure hardship
With honor and pride
Risk change with caution
Armored only with your values
To protect against the trouble and grief
That must be managed

Doubt.
Impatience.

Defend against them
Stay to true to what is right

Flip the switch philosophy

The broken down
End of year
Crawling to the finish line
Way of living
Replaced
By the resolutions
Commitments
Changes of habit

Instead, maybe
I’ll just use a dimmer switch instead
Giving just the right amount of light
To illuminate all I’m thankful for
Living the way I do is great
Wonderful family
Coolish job
Time to do whatever

What do I need to change for
What do any of us need to change for

Be nice to others
Done

I’ll stay away from end of year
Lists and recaps
Leaving those types of things
To people with better memories
Than mine

Besides, I like that moment
When I read something that happened
And go, “Oh yeah, remember that?”

I’ll stay away from forecasts for next year
The resolutions and promises
That I will surely walk away from
Without the least bit of guilt
For quitting

Besides, I like when I do something
That was totally unexpected
And go, “Damn, that was cool.”

“The world is what it is; men who are nothing, who allow themselves to become nothing, have no place in it.” A Bend in the River, V.S. Naipaul

Formidable actions require so little effort
When the focus is on simplicity,
On something.
A man can find a way
Without creating grandiose expectations
Of wealth and possessions.
For a man does best
When he knows who he is,
Someone.
Then the world has another part
Fitting purposefully into the earthly machine that
Wants nothing of lost souls.

The will to believe
Ought not be forced
Rather a will should
Just be

Neither granted
Nor dismissed
A will is a thread
Sewing a man to his faith

Final destinations unknown,
The virtuous one
Secure in knowing his will
Will send him to a good home

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