Cold Morning Walk

The essence now in that envelope
between night and dawn,
the eastern sky silent through pure white spectrum,
everywhere crystalline frost, its task to bejewel
fallen leaves and winter twigs,
and share itself with
me.

Now,
stillness—
deep silence,
until my soul opens up and
sees the all that is here
just, and only, now.
I need only
be.

Moving through the silence, only my
white breath moving, only my shoes
beating a faint cadence in this between time,
I become one with this world,
space where everything can be the future
if only I dream it, and move towards it.

—Neal Lemery 12/4/13

Being Thankful

“Let us remember that, as much has been given us, much will be expected from us, and that true homage comes from the heart as well as from the lips, and shows itself in deeds.” ~Theodore Roosevelt

Yes, the Thanksgiving dinner table will “groan” with an abundance of food, and a delightful gathering of family and friends, and rich conversation will mark the feast. We will pause to hear each of us express what we are thankful for in the past year, one of our favorite traditions.

And, in that telling of thanks, there will be a few tears, and a few laughs, and my heart will be filled with gratitude of what I have in my life. People new to our Thanksgiving table will remark about the goodness of speaking about what we are thankful for, and sharing that with others.

Yet, I try to express my thanks in more than words. As Theodore Roosevelt said, truly giving thanks is putting our gratitude into action, into our deeds.

This week, I sat with two of my young men in prison, each of them at a crossroads in their lives, each of them struggling to move ahead, to grow, and to steady themselves on their paths. Their particular challenges were different, but each of them steeled themselves, dug deep inside of their souls, drawing on their resilience and their growing self esteem, and moved ahead.

I marveled at their strength, and at their insight into their challenges and dilemmas. In the short time I’ve been privileged to be in their lives, I have seen them grow into healthy, strong men, gaining confidence and perspective on how far they’ve come, and what potentials they have to make it in the world.

I found myself giving thanks for the privilege of simply being present, as they worked on their problems, seeking solutions, weighing alternatives, and doing the gut work they each needed to do in order to move on. What each of them were working on, and what each of them accomplished was bloody, gut wrenching, soul challenging work.

There was old ugliness and pain, stuff all of us would probably want to find easier to ignore, and keep buried deep inside. Yet, they plunged in, dealing with the ugly past, the old patterns of thinking, and simply did the work. They tried out their new tools, and embraced the light they want to have in their lives, leaving behind the dark, sad past.

Their challenges, and their deep, thoughtful, soul changing work, brought tears to my eyes. Their stories of their childhoods, and their heart wounds, and search for love and acceptance in this world, tore at my heart. Yet, they accepted who they had been, and embraced who they are becoming. They are moving forward, with courage and with love for themselves, at last.

Being a witness, and a cheerleader at times, I was humbled by their perseverance, their determination to move forward. They faced change, and moved on. They faced uncertainty, and complex choices, yet each of them knew where he wanted to go, and what they wanted to accomplish for themselves.

I learn from them all of the time. They inspire me, they mentor me, in how to live a healthy, productive life. They teach me that one’s past is not necessarily the predictor of one’s future, that one can change and move away from disaster and bitterness, and into a life of sanity and unconditional love.

Outside the prison walls, our society faces challenging problems, and dilemmas that seem to defy solutions. And, soon enough, these young men will be leaving prison, and living their lives as free men. I am excited that they will soon be free, and will soon take an active part in our country’s life and culture. They are strong, capable, and determined men, men with brains and a healthy way of looking at life, and who they want to be. They will be rich, productive assets for the rest of us. They have much to teach each one of us.

I am thankful for them, for being able to be a small part of their lives, and, in a small way, help them move on and be strong, loving, and amazing young men.

—-Neal Lemery, 11/27/2013

Walking on Life’s Path

I don’t know it all. And, I never will.

But, in this journey of curiosity, inquiry, the anticipation of what may be around the corner, and the meeting of what I haven’t figured out yet, lies the excitement.

And, yes, I might even be wrong about what I think I know. I’m not perfect. I’m not a master of much of what goes on in the world, or what I think I know to figure out a problem. And, the more I work on the stuff that I think I’m pretty good at, even a master of, I keep finding out that there is more for me to learn, and even more problems and questions that come up, as I go about my tasks.

The learning curve still have a pretty good slope to it, keeping my journey as a healthy form of exercise, on all levels.

Often, being able to ask the question is often more important than thinking I have the answer. I usually don’t have the answer, at least the right answer. Even if the answer was right a while ago, it has a good chance of not being right now, anyway. And, “right” and “correct” are relative, anyway.

But, I have a lot of questions, and more than enough enigmas, quandaries, and paradoxes to keep me moving forward, looking for the answers. Somedays, I just discover I have more questions.

Simply having the questions is becoming increasingly comfortable. I’m full of questions. I keep finding more questions, and revising, rewriting the questions. Questions give me structure, and give me direction.

I’ve always needed direction. I’ve been around long enough that I can see the cycles, the patterns of life, and society, and being able to navigate through it al, with some sense of purpose and structure. I can get easily lost if I don’t have focus, and a path to try to follow.

“If you do not change direction, you may end up where you are headed.” —Lao Tzu.

When I figure out I’m going in the wrong direction, I summon my courage, dust off my list of questions, and take a new path. I “work my hard” and change directions, heading on a new path. And, when I look back, I can see where I’ve stumbled, and where I’ve danced, and I usually figure out that my choices were good ones.

I’m loaded with questions, and I’m on my path, my meandering path. My job is to keep track of where I’m headed, and to not get so caught up in myself that I start thinking I know it all, that I have all the answers. If I’m curious and not afraid to look at the compass once in a while, life keeps on being an exciting, and rewarding adventure.

—Neal Lemery, 11/23/2013

Rockaway Beach sunset, 11/19/2013

November Storm

Quiet now,
so quiet I can almost imagine
the sheets of rain beating on the roof,
running down the windows, while I make tea
and feel its heat in my hands, the rest of me
buried under my blanket in my chair,
drying mouse hunter snoring in my lap.

The house will shake with yet another gust,
the roar and whistling of wind streaking by
not long from its marathon above the ocean
from the tropics or Alaska, or wherever this storm was born.

The lights will flicker with the bigger gusts and maybe go out,
leaving us with the lone candle on the coffee table,
before I light Grandma’s “coal oil lamp”
and get out the cribbage board.

Perhaps then we will make sandwiches by candlelight,
sipping the soup I’d made before the storm began,
and deal another hand, laughing and talking—
the storm slamming against the house,
garbage can lid and the last of the leaves
sailing by,
in the deep black of the soaking wet
night.

Later on, under the added blanket,
I will wake to a long gust, whistling around the house
yet more rain coming sideways, only
the lightning showing me the neighbor’s house,
thunder joining the wind in chorus of the night long song.

After dawn, air still, rain down to a drizzle,
the rumble of the furnace, and the refrigerator,
means I can make the coffee,
the cribbage board there on the table, ready for the next deal.

—Neal Lemery, 11/18/13

First Cup

First morning cup, brewing before dawn,
the son packing up his bag, ready to go
back to his Sunday job, to school—
more tests this week, only a month left
his first term in a real college.

His face lights up, his words all about campus
and classes, and the brainy discussions and lessons—
him fitting in, getting into his groove, finding his way,
living his dream we talked about so often.

Finding his path, in so many ways, now
footsteps steady on university sidewalks,
exploring the library, coffee with new found friends,
conversations rich with ideas and challenges.

We talk, me reaching to offer a tidbit of advice, of support
before he gets back at it, this new life of his,
me, wanting to be fatherly, yet not wanting to push,
me, proud of his sure steps, his confidence, all of his success.

Him, now fully a man, both feet firm on his chosen path,
him, moving forward, not knowing where he will travel
yet, happy with the idea of his journey, his idea
of who he is, and who he is becoming, at last.

Dad work now nearly done, this son has found himself,
his wings strong, finding the updrafts,
soaring, towards the sun
of his newfound happiness.

First cup now drained, he fills his car mug with his second,
heading towards the door, and turns back
hugging, one last time, and then
he is gone, down the road, moving on with his life.

The house, quiet now, without his voice, without
him playing the guitar, his singing in the shower,
his eyes twinkling as he speaks of his new life,
he goes down the road, leaving me with
a second cup and wet face.

Neal Lemery 11/10/2013

A Courageous Dilemma

We often think heroes are the folks somewhere else, the people on the front page or on the TV news, people who have done something amazing. They’re the people meeting the President, getting a medal.

But, we have heroes here, right in my town. And, sometimes, I get to be a witness to some amazing acts of courage and determination to just do the right thing.

A friend of mine is facing a serious dilemma. Their work, and their values and morals, and what is truly in their best interest are now at loggerheads. Life isn’t working out the way they want it, and there’s a lot of conflict, a lot of strife.

And, it’s becoming clear that the right thing to do is make some big changes, and to move on. That means giving up some things that are near and dear to their heart. Yet, they aren’t able to fully live their morals and values the way things are now.

They are at the crossroads, and the road is muddy, and there are a lot of questions, and not as many answers.

My friend has wrestled with all of this, and keeps coming back to thinking they need to live their morals and values, and be true to themselves, to honor their core values. And, when they’ve looked at their dilemma in that way, the choices become clear, and the path ahead opens up, and they can move forward.

They’re unstuck, now, and they’ve figured it out. Do the right thing, be true to their values, and find the courage to move ahead, to embrace change. Once they’ve come around to living life according to their beliefs, the choices are a lot easier, a lot clearer.

This conflict hasn’t been easy. There’s been a lot of sleepless nights, a lot of conversation over coffee with friends, a lot of wandering in the desert of uncertainty and doubt. And, in that darkness, they’ve found their stars again, and they’ve refocused on their beliefs and morals. Their compass has found True North again, and they are ready to make their move.

I’ve helped, just a bit, in that journey. I’ve listened, and put my judging and second guessing to the side. My role as friend in all this has been to listen, and to repeat back to them what they are saying, so they can hear their own words, their own values, through another voice.

My friend has figured it out. I don’t need to decide for them, and I don’t need to analyze the dilemma through my own values and beliefs. I just need to let them hear what they are saying, and let they say and hear their own advice, their own solution to their dilemmas.

I’d want that for me, when it’s my turn in the box of paradox, dilemma, and conflict. Someone to hold up that mirror, and let me see myself for what I am, and for what I believe in, and want to achieve. We all need that person in our lives to give us permission to get out the compass, and find our True North.

My friend is moving on, taking steps now in the direction they’ve chosen, and feeling pretty happy about it. They aren’t expecting to get a medal from the President, but they deserve one, for being courageous and for doing the right thing.

Neal Lemery 11/5/2013

Paying It Forward, Mike

I came, to say good bye, and to say thanks
for your friendship, for your goodness, your decency
in how you lived, in how you treated others
in need of your advice, your passion,
those in need of justice—
a fair shake, you called it.

Words were spoken in the church about you,
in front of a thousand of your closest friends,
yet you had already left, taking your trumpet,
your laugh, and your good heart,
leaving us to wonder who we could now turn to
when we needed a friend, when we needed wisdom,
and a bit of justice.

I drove back home, along the river road you took,
that last morning, on your way to log with your family,
on the home place, where you were always with God,
the place that restored you, made you who you are.

I remembered your good advice, your courage in doing what was right
even though politics and money said different—
I remembered the logger back at the church,
stifling a tear, as he turned to leave, heading back to the woods,
remembering what you did for him, remembering
the man you were, remembering
you treated him decently, honorably.

We spoke then, on that river road, my tears—
I felt you close, and you knew then
what you meant to me, what our
friendship really was.

An hour later, I stop for ice cream at the drive through,
the man ahead of me, a working man, his truck
filled with his tools, at the end of a long, sweaty day;
He pays it forward, telling the clerk he’s buying my ice cream,
just because its a good thing to do.

You, then, take my ice cream money, and hand it to the clerk
paying it forward, to the family in the car behind me,
making a difference, letting me know
you are still around.
—Neal Lemery 10/2013

Random Acts of Kindness

It’s Random Act of Kindness and Pay It Forward Day today! I stopped at the DQ drive through, and the waitress sweetly told me my ice cream cone had been paid for by the guy ahead of me. So, I handed my money over, to pay for the treats ordered by the folks behind me.
What a change in outlook for the day. It was much needed as I was coming back from the funeral of a good, charitable, and kindly friend, Mike Dooney. His spirit lives on.

Interminable

Let’s come to order
and decide not to decide.
Discussion and agenda give Dali’s clock face
even more reason to slump towards the floor, frozen
moving Process to a standstill
discussing what we can’t change,
and acting on what we decided months ago;
facilitator transforming into an
oxymoron
of efficiency,
and the paint on the windows looking out on freedom
never dries.
My soul ran away three items ago,
never looking back,
so much not a part of
The Group.
Jung’s collective unconscious fully cemented now in the collective swamp
of
meeting.