Ying or Yang Choice

The mind is like a pool of water. When it becomes agitated it is difficult to see the bottom of the pool. But if you allow it settle, and clear, the depth of the answer you are looking for will appear.
 Your life may not of had such a happy beginning. However, that will not define who you are. It is only the path in life you choose, that in the end will define who you really are. Anything is possible with understanding. To understand ones destiny, is a road less traveled by many. Finding your way to let go of the past, knowing those thing no longer matter, that the only things that matter are the choices you make now, and  that in itself will lead you to the destiny, and peace you seek. 
By moving on with your life, by letting go of the past, you become a better person. A enlightened individual if you will. By knowing that what you do now matters more now than the past, and that the choice you make now, can not only effect your world, but that of others, and will help guide you to make the correct choice. 
To be Happy or Unhappy, Content or Uncontented  Positive or Negative, To being Peace or Destruction. The choice is yours alone to make. Life is like a pool of water. The pool is formed one drop at a time. So to is life, each action becomes a drop. Each drop becomes part of the pool, blending, and flowing with the rest. Each choice you make, whether good or not so good, becomes part of the pool of life. Always remember the pool you create called life, defines who you are and if you have peace or turmoil in your life. So choose wisely the drops of life in your pool that others may see, as the drops define your very soul.

The Last Leaf

I have often wondered throughout my life what it would be like to be the last leaf on the tree so to speak. Now in the Autumn of my years growing nearer, I come to realize that it is no fun to be the last. You have no one to talk to about the things you know about. Moreover no one cares, or can relate to what you are talking about. I come from a small town and most of the people I knew are long buried that includes some of my class mates in school.

A gas station owner George, strange man with the gift for gab, always had time to talk, and gave me the best financial advice as a boy. Freddy, he would say, If you ever want to have any money when you get older, pay yourself first. A dollar a day, and in twenty or thirty years you will be amazed at how much you will have. I wish I would have followed that advice. Then the older folks I mowed lawn for,like miss Crouch. Always made the best gooseberry pie with ice cream and black English tea. Or miss Carter, she lived about thirty feet away from the T.P. an W. tracks. Her husband used to work for them as a conductor, and she gave me his old railroad lantern one day, it may have been a bit rusty but it was a great lantern. the lantern had a handle on the back you could hang it from that also. the globe was about six inches tall and five inches across with a concave mirror in the back to shine even brighter. I took it fishing a lot.

And then miss Rosenboom. I will never forget her she could not speak much English. One Christmas her granddaughter wanted to go to church services. Joyce asked me to stay with her while she was gone. I never felt it right that she should miss out so I got a song book and sang Christmas songs to her. I'm not much of a singer but she enjoyed it. Then lets see, Abe Richart had the grocery store, Earhart the sheet metal, Belands the tavern, Leo Shibe the other grocery store, Jim Payton the restaurant, John and Robert Hoffmaster, the hardware store. I will never forget Herman the old guy with the glass eye who worked for bob and john,  William Bruniga Sir the Plymouth garage.

The town main street area was destroyed by a train wreak years and years ago on fathers day. Funny thing though, I remember the town like it was yesterday. I remember the smell of the smelt Fry's on Friday nights at Leo's. The dim street lights with a soft glow all their own bathing the town with a Erie light in the early morning fog. How the curbs were two feet tall, and a concrete ramp at one end of the block that gave you the best thrill riding your bike off of it into the air. The old Texaco station at the junction had a flowing well with the best tasting water and it made your soda sooo.. cold, you would get a brain freeze if you drank it to fast. The old wood floors would creak under foot, and were easy to walk on. Minors idle hour restaurant and bar. Now that place, I learned to shoot pool, and to read peoples actions. And lets not forget the old bank, It was fun to play in. The old T.P.W. depot was a fun place to play. I remember the over sized wooden office chair. The leather seat was torn with stuffing's hanging out, but it still sat comfortable. Sitting in the chair at the telegraphers post you could see both way's. When the train came blasting through, the echo between the elevator and depot was deafening to say the least, but the thrill of being so close to the train and still safe was awesome. Then their was the two grain elevators, and the big corn cribs. My best friend Tony Walker, and me climbed all over in them catching pigeon's. Pigeon's, now that is a story all by its self.

The old stock yards, that was always fun. Barn swallows were so many in that place, and so tame. You could climb the gates, and get within inches of the nest to watch them feed the babies. Back then, we had two of everything in that town for the most part. Two grocery, three restaurants, two bar, two hardware store, two sheet metal, two welding, four gas stations, Shell, Texaco, standard, Sinclair. A feed store, telephone switch board, and post office. And yes, it was a party line.

For the ones reading this, a party line was, every one in town was hooked up to a switch board operator who controlled all town calls. You had a certain ring like two shorts and a long and you answered. BUT... if you wanted to know what was going on in your block you waited till the other person picked up then listened in. I caught a good whipping if I made noise while mom was listening in on someone. Now times, most cordless phones can be picked up with a older scanner. Yes, my mother has a older scanner, and still listens.

The last leaf. I wonder.. I guess that means we have lived longer than most and remember the more simpler, and trusting times, before the world got so, Oh so , very crazy. Know what? I have knowledge and memory's of a lost world. When things get hectic, and others are lost, I can find comfort in the knowledge of the past remembering simple times and passing on what I have learned to my grandchildren. It just May be I am Not the last leaf after all. Passing on my knowledge to my grandchildren, will make them the last leaf on a fading tree of the past.

Regrets of Life

It seems just the other day my life started. Have you ever felt that way? Felt that time has some how slipped by you to the point you are now at. That you have missed the use of your life. A fact of life is you are born, you live, then pass. Most folks feel cheated, that time has passed so very quickly for them. In truth, that just was never the case.

Time is time! The thing that matters is what you do with the time you have. You can waste it away, or you can live it to the fullest. Simple, right? Well.... yes and no. The real question is what you want from life. Some must always seek a challenge, while others are content with sitting back and letting life happen. Still, others are never satisfied. The only regret I have, is that I could not spend more time with my family and other's in need of help.

Still all in all I have had my fun, and lived the best I can. I provided for my family and helped others the best that I could. I guess that says a lot for my life. Still... I wish I could do more.

I was thinking the other day about time and how we as humans perceive time itself. A old saying goes like this. Yesterday is the past, Tomorrow is the future. But,today is a gift that is why it is called the present. I thought to myself and decided this.

I am not going to dwell on the past or worry about the future. The past is gone and can not be changed and the future doesn't exist. All we ever have is in front of us right now this very instant, and it is always now. So we should be content and at peace with that.

Regrets? No.just a lot of wonderful memories. After all, isn't that what we end up with when all is said and done? As we take our last breath all we can take with us is our life's memories. Sweet or Bitter, that is all we can take with us. As for me... I choose to remember the Sweet.

The Voice

Many years ago in the gray early morning hours, I found myself past the pleasure's of drinking the night away. I was in need of a rest as the dew settled on the fresh green carpet of grass, My new found friend and I had gotten very drunk that night. As we sat and conversed, with my head felling like it was about to explode we were interrupted.
I heard a sound. A sound so sweet and and gentle. A sound so alluring and gentle, I was completely mesmerized by it. My pounding head started to ease, and I was caught in its soft tender web of rhythm. A musical melody you ask? No, such a sound can not be produced by a mere instrument. I was in panic, and loosing control of my very will. In my altered state of consciousness, the sound blended my very thoughts. It was so sweet, so soft, that i started to envision myself at peace. I tried to fight the overwhelming draw,but in the end I was consumed by it. As I turned to face this compelling sound I found what was producing the sound was even more enchanting.

It was about five foot tall, and covered with a dark heavy blue cloth, to shield it from the morning chill. A ivory colored top was exposed as a hood fell back, then, a long soft entanglement of bright copper red hair flowed down her shoulders to almost her waist. A young woman standing on her fathers porch, looking with concern at her brother and I. She asked if I would like something to eat, and I replied yes, yes I would, thank you. Would you like some coffee, she asked. No thank you. I would take some tea if you have it though. Great she said, I like tea also.
As she busied herself cooking and making the tea, I watched her with great interest. she was three years younger than me, with a nice figure from what I could see. She was full Irish, you could see that in her freckled face, and bright red hair. As she served me breakfast, we sat and talked. After we had eaten,she offered me the couch to rest on till I felt better. I excepted with many thanks.

When I awoke several hours later, I looked over to find her curled up in a large chair across the room watching me so I would not fall of the couch. We talked some more, then I left , with the promise I would be back to see her again. Little did I know that this was the start of many adventures we would have together.
We have been married thirty eight years now. And that young girl with the fire red hair is older now. Her fire red hair has turned to amber. We have both grown older, but I still see that young girl on her fathers porch calling to me. A perfect vision for the rest of my life. It is rather funny in a way. Thirty eight years later, when I look at her, I still see that fiery red headed girl. If I am very lucky it will be the last thing I see when I close my eyes for the last time.

Heros Lost

When I was a kid I had many hero's. My dad, the lone ranger,sky king,the old man on the poster saying I want you,JFK, Mr.king, yes I was a 60's kid. We needed hero's then, to help us see the good we could do as individuals. A hero then could make us want to change the world for the better, and we knew we could if we just tried. We could sing to the wind, and knew in our hearts we would someday fly to the stars. All we had to do was dream, and be bold enough to take up the torch. To dream the dream of greatness, and act on that dream, that alone, that, was all we needed.

But someplace along the line, we lost our way. We became lost when our hero's were shot and killed,their mission in life cut short. We forgot what they were saying to us. Our dreams turned into fog. Our minds numb, we lost all our hero's. Forgetting what they taught us, we stumbled blindly in the darkness of our own making.

The world now is the same no matter where you go. War, poverty, famine,hate. city's filled with smog, cars bumper to bumper, gray Sky's, acid rain, a bleak picture indeed. Is it any wonder we grasp for straws? That, we become so hungry for what we lost that we try to create a hero. We see ourselves in comic book hero's.

Are their any real hero's left, or are we just chasing ghosts in the hollow shell of our minds. Can we turn a blind eye to the aging winds that sigh through the trees? Do we dare to forget all who have fallen in the name of freedom, only to rise again, and again, till their last breath slips slowly from life. Why is it so hard to find a hero without want? The song of freedom is strong in everyone. How to be a hero is in us all. Carry the old persons heavy sack, return the purse sitting on the park bench, hold the door for someone. Who knows what a change you can make. To that person you are a hero. A child and her mother came out of a store the other day, the child carrying a helium balloon. The wind tore the balloon loose from the child, and the child was crying. The woman must have thought I was crazy, I told her to wait a minute and I would go get her another one. I was amazed she waited, but she did. As I approached the van the little girl stopped crying and started to smile. I tied the balloon around her wrist then said their you go . The woman wanted to pay me for the balloon, and I said her smile is payment enough. With that left. I felt on top of the world doing that simple thing for that child. After all, being a hero to someone is supposed to feel good. All we need to do is remember. Hero's live forever in our minds. All we need do is to remember to try to help the other person. After all, isn't that what our hero's did? Changing the world one person at a time. We just forgot how. Maybe some day, we will remember. Before it is to late for us all.