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Freedom to talk

12/25/2016

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Since losing my fear of people a year or two ago, I have a compulsion to talk. I guess it’s a result of 65 years of hiding inside myself. I don’t feel any need to do that anymore, and so I sure don’t want to. I feel like I’m finally joining society.

And yet I’m not. My new blabbing attitude, for instance, should fit right into social media. But it doesn’t. Facebook, for example, seems to be divided into two opposing camps, neither of which I can relate to. There are the angry insulters and there are those who will only smile. (Yes, I know I’m overly generalizing). The angry ones seem to want to hurt as many people as they can, and the others don’t want to hurt anyone. I’m with the others. I don’t want to hurt anyone either. And yet I can’t stop talking and it’s become obvious that when I do, no matter what I say, if the readership is potentially large enough I will hurt someone in some way.

So, I see why sensitive people don’t say anything, even when they don’t have the fear I’ve had all my life: They’ve spent all that time learning what not to say. Which is anything, if the crowd they’re talking to is big enough. Well, I’m a fairly quick learner. I’ve been learning that attitude myself lately. The trouble is, it’s destroying all my newfound freedom.

Now I see that the larger the crowd is that I talk with, the less freedom I have. In any large group, there will be people who will take offence at something. A small group would be ideal, say four or five sitting around a table in a café somewhere, but for that I would have to find friends who are just like me in their ideas, or who are all happy to talk endlessly about only one thing, which would bore me. So then it would seem that the most freedom would come in a conversation with only one person. That might be a person who is just like me in beliefs, but more likely someone who is willing to accept me for the somewhat strange person I am, and I them, in the intense give and take that is a true two-way street.

Which brings me to my conclusion from this year of experimenting. Since I do not want to stifle myself again, after having done it all my life, and since virtually any relatively free opening-up is likely to annoy someone, the only real alternative is to try to thicken my skin as quickly as possible, to deeply realize that it doesn’t matter how people see me. Well, that sounds easier than it is, especially for a formerly shy person. Because the basis of my shyness, as with anyone’s, is a lack of confidence. And it’s impossible to gain confidence overnight. Especially when I make social blunders far more often than I ever did before (from too much talk but not enough social experience to do it properly). Those blunders reinforce the lack of confidence, instead of helping rid me of it.

It’s a process. And I’m working through it.


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A little success

12/11/2016

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After each open-mic event, my sleeping is always shot to hell. It takes me days to get back to normal. It’s not from the anxiety of hosting, as it used to be, as that doesn’t bother me at all anymore. Rather, it’s a host of other little things: Did I say the right thing to this person, the wrong thing to that one, should I have spoken to another. I never know what to feel responsible for and what not to, as I’ve never done anything like this before, in my entire life. So, when the event is over and I go home, these little thoughts begin to add up and pile on top of each other and eventually the anxiety of them overwhelms me. I try to repress it and distract myself from it, but then it affects my sleep.

Last night I decided to try something different. Just before going to bed I dragged out an old, dust-covered binder that’s full of my old, old poems. I opened it at random, turned the pages slowly and carefully to keep sheets from falling out onto the floor, reading some, a stanza here and there, and remembered writing them. I was surprised how dark and hopeless I seemed in most of them, but also how beautiful, perfect even, the poems were to me back then, I guess because they were descriptions of my reality, externalizations of it, me pulling myself out of my cavern into the light. I was showing myself to myself, and, as negative as the views were, the beauty of them was that they were ME, not just the normal otherness of life. That process was exhilarating back then. But reading them now, I’m astounded how much I’ve changed.

Anyway, I found several pencilled attempts at one poem, all unsatisfactory and finally abandoned, which I thought my now somewhat-more-developed poetic abilities might be able to do something with. I puttered with it for a while till my mind began losing its elasticity and I went to bed. And in the morning, I woke from a very good sleep. I was surprised by that, and excited and happy. During that whole night, I had only awoken once, instead of every two hours as usual.

So what happened? Maybe the work on the poem was just a good distraction from my world of regrets. It might have stopped the circular thinking. Just as meditation might do. Friends have told me I should meditate before going to bed, and I’ve been working myself in that direction. And I do meditate when I’m actually in bed, to get myself to drop off to sleep. Maybe that’s all that this work on the poem amounted to. Or maybe the energy of creation itself moved my mind into a different realm. Having experienced many bouts of this in my life, I think there may be something to it. So, maybe this, or that, or both.

In any case, working on an old poem from back when I was virtually a different person was very interesting. In those days, I always assumed that when I got older I would be shrunken, somehow less in every way. The possibility was so dreadful I couldn’t think about it, especially because, when I was young and had my chance, I wasn’t developing at all. Yet now I seem so much lighter, both inside and out, than I was then. I remember Bob Dylan saying it to us, but I was never able to understand what he meant then, “Ah, but I was so much older then. I’m younger than that now.”


Facebook Likes:...7...Barbara Green, Cambridge N Calvin Keenan and 5 others
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Cambridge N Calvin Keenan Well stated , I feel like the darkness steaming out of the heat of the shell ... seeking relief for that soothing cool mist of morning ❤
Unlike · Reply · 1 · 11 December at 23:29

إبراهيم أشعياء عوض Nah, you're fine. I probably ought to have wandered up there and given you salaam, i appreciate that you can be reached in the public (semi-public) domain, when something really important comes up. We don't control outcomes, only the input. You just concentrate on being the best you can be. Give it your best, and the rest surely works out.
Unlike · Reply · 1 · 12 December at 10:57 · Edited

Stan Burfield replied · 1 Reply

Barbara Green Hey, fellow insomniac! Two thibngs I've heard recently, one of which I've tried and one which I intend to -- we can try it together and compare results, if you like. The first is breathing in a 4-7-8 patterns, only four or five times in a row to start, apparently never more than 8 times. The count doesn't have to be full seconds -- depends on your lung power and calmness. The second thing for insomniacs is to journal before bed so those circular thoughts may form a line and find an exit from your brain via your arms, fingers and keyboard -- or pen, if you're into that. I'm going to try that -- my tendency when stressed is to read or binge-watch something on Netflix, which of course means that when you go to bed and nothing is streaming into your brain, all those ignored anxieties come clamouring up for attention.
Unlike · Reply · 1 · 12 December at 14:20

Stan Burfield Let's see if I understand you correctly (and please tell me some reasoning behind this as well): You breathe really deeply, holding the first breath in for a count of 4, then holding the next two to counts of 7 and 8, then 4, then 7 and 8, etc, for 4 or 5 repetitions, and do this when trying to fall asleep? Is this to get to sleep? Or to help you stay asleep? And why would it work? Is there any evidence it does work? Interesting.... The other idea, to journal, about the day's events, and I guess your idea would be to write about what's made me anxious and to try to solve those things while writing? That's definitely something I'll try. I don't have trouble getting to sleep so much as staying asleep, The journaling may help with that, as it may reduce repressed anxieties, the kind of things that might keep large parts of my mind stirred up all night (since the repressed mind, the subconscious mind, and the dream mind are pretty much all the same thing).
Like · Reply · 12 December at 14:48

Barbara Green No, the breathing pattern goes like this: first, breathe out all the air you can. Then breathe in through your nose for a count of 4, hold for 7, breath out (in a swooshing sound) through your mouth for a count of 8, then repeat. It seems to put you in an altered, lightened state of mind, and interrupts the resonance cycle of the anxious thoughts.
Like · Reply · 12 December at 14:52

Stan Burfield oh, worth a try. By resonance cycle, you mean what I mean when I say vicious cycle? Are you saying there is an actual cycle like a wheel turning that turns at a certain speed per revolution?
Like · Reply · 12 December at 14:56

Stan Burfield I'm asking because of my obsession to understand everything.
Like · Reply · 12 December at 14:59 · Edited

Stan Burfield Also, which technique have you tried so far?
Like · Reply · 12 December at 15:07

Barbara Green Stan Burfield No worries. I'm borrowing the term from memory science ... the process of consolidating short-term into long-term memory sometimes involves repeating them in a resonance cycle -- like repeating a poem aloud over and over to memorize it. When we allow thoughts to run in circles over and over in our brain, we're basically doing the same thing -- laying down an establish neural path for them to keep running in.
Like · Reply · 12 December at 15:08

Barbara Green Stan Burfield The breathing one. I don't always do it to fall asleep -- it's good in tense situations, too, much as any deep breathing is. It gets you to inhabit your body for a couple of minutes and gives you a break from those thoughts, plus re-oxygenates you if you're the type, like me, who stops breathing and freezes when tense so as to become invisible, I guess.
Like · Reply · 12 December at 15:10

Stan Burfield I see, so where does the 4-7-8 idea come from?
Like · Reply · 12 December at 15:10

Barbara Green Stan Burfield I *think* it's yogic ... here's a video about it: https://youtu.be/gz4G31LGyog

Asleep in 60 seconds: 4-7-8 breathing technique…
YOUTUBE.COM
Like · Reply · Remove Preview · 12 December at 15:13

Stan Burfield Great. I'll watch the video. I have the same problem you do of stopping breathing. Linda's always looking at me typing and saying, "Breathe!" It seems like something I should try, not just for sleeping. (And speaking of sleeping, I have a mild case of sleep apnea, which means that when I sleep on my back I will quite often stop breathing. So I don't let myself sleep on my back. Which is one of my theories for why I keep waking up all night, so I can consciously roll over onto my other side.)
Like · Reply · 12 December at 15:17
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إبراهيم أشعياء عوض Lol in a word meditation?!
Unlike · Reply · 1 · 12 December at 14:22 · Edited

Barbara Green And I like the poem. I really like the "leathered over" image although it is bumping up a bit against the smooth and ridged shell of the conch . I like the "rousounding" description a lot, too, the the reaching for the flux, especially "that throws the colour". Could you contrast the flux -- which is aliveness and change, unpredictability, the contrast to the safe-but-dead world encased in a calcium shell, a bit more pointedly?
Like · Reply · 12 December at 14:23

Stan Burfield Good point. I'll have to think about it. I'm going to take it to our next workshop, and I'll bring your ideas. Thanks, Barb.
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September 23rd, 2016

9/23/2016

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​Out of a harsh thing, something great!

Picture
Yesterday I had a run of fatigue that was obviously caused by one of the pills I've just started taking for atrial fibrillation. Then this morning I woke early and couldn't get back to sleep, so I knew that, between the two sources of tiredness, I was in for another rough day, probably worse than yesterday.

Nevertheless, having just woken up, I didn't feel too bad yet, neither tired not anxious, so I quickly decided to do as much of my stress-inducing open mic work as I could, in one fell swoop, and get it over with before the fatigue and the anxiety of doing it caught up with me.

And I did: five things, including one that was tanglingly complicated and one that was major, all in about two hours. By then, even though the stress was noticeable, and the sleepiness was setting in, I felt free of all the bad jobs, and satisfied, and the rest of the day was mine. So obviously I had hit upon something and decided to do it this way in the future--stressful jobs first thing. Then, if nothing else, I would at least get my open mic work done, atrial fibrillation or not.

Another great idea followed from that. A couple weeks before, I had created my latest daily organisation chart, something I do occasionally to try to get myself a little more organised and productive, but which always proves to be a big failure. I just can never seem to get myself to plan my days and then actually follow the plans, doing one little thing at one time and another at another time. My latest chart had me working on 2,5 hours of poetry in the morning and 2,5 hours of novel writing in the afternoon, each preceded by and followed by open mic jobs. But even if my health problem hadn't injected itself, I know I wouldn't have been able to discipline myself enough anyway.

Now, after seeing that I had to do all my stressful jobs in the morning, to make sure I would do them at all, it occurred to me that I could simply assign the rest of the day to one major project, instead of chopping it up into robotic pieces, and tackle that one thing whenever I was up to it and for as long as it felt good. One project a day, no set hours. Wow, why didn't I think of that decades ago? (Well, because until I was retired, my one project had always been work, of course.)

The follow-up question is, won't the medication-induced fatigue prevent work on that one project? I don't think so. I can take naps to revive myself. And/or meditate. Then there's stubbornness and determination. And anyway, creation always seems to produce its own energy out of thin air: So this will be an interesting experiment to see if that energy, which is always so weirdly unexpected, can overcome the fatigue of medication!

I'm already getting energy just from the unexpected creation of these life-changing ideas. I would never have expected that I could squeeze such good stuff out of what should be a big downer, having my first mini-stroke!
Photo: Me at 20. Time keeps doing its thing and I keep doing mine.



​
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Carol Reid You're onto something!
Unlike · Reply · 1 · 6 September at 19:59

Linda Eva Williams Sweet Stan, you work so hard at understanding. And still retain your sense of humour. By the way, what are you doing in this pic? I keep wanting to see a mic.
Unlike · Reply · 1 · 6 September at 20:53

Stan Burfield I think a relative was over and I was having a conversation. It was Christmas time.
Like · Reply · 6 September at 20:55

Linda Eva Williams You? Conversing??
Like · Reply · 6 September at 21:05

Stan Burfield Bizarre but true. I can even remember who it was with. A cousin from New Zealand.
Like · Reply · 6 September at 21:05


Larry Burfield You sure remind me of your sister in this photo.
Like · Reply · 7 September at 00:34

Stan Burfield Interesting. That never would have occurred to me.
Like · Reply · 7 September at 12:32



Karen Troxler Thanks for sharing, it might help other procrastinators, like moi!
Unlike · Reply · 1 · 7 September at 07:54
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What if...

8/27/2016

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In remembering an incident from your past, the kind that causes acute mental pain, anguish, regret, you remember it as a friend would hear it if you told the story to them. What if YOU could recall it that way? Learn to.

In this sense you could say there are two ways of looking at a bad memory--either through all that hurt it contains once again, or as a human story. The audience can only see it the second way, and maybe learning to see it through the eyes of others is a way out of the overwhelming personal horror of the memory. Maybe. This is reminiscent of the old idea of the writer who writes a perfect description of the most cherished memory of his life, only to find that he can no longer remember it, only his words of descri[tion.

In sum, maybe we need to do the opposite to holding our pain inside, to refusing to pollute others with its negativity. We need to struggle to put the horrific situation and the pain it caused into the best possible description and then tell it to someone, or write it down and post it on Facebook. That way, we have removed it from ourselves, from its secret hiding place inside, from where it continually infests our minds. We've turned it into a sculpture, something that anyone can look at, relate to, and learn from. Including ourselves. It is then just another interesting part of our lives.



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Well, the MRI is done. 

8/6/2016

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The technician said, "Are you claustrophobic?" "No." "Put these ear plugs in. It's quite loud." "Okay." "Try not to move your head." "Okay." She shoved pads down both sides of my head to hold it in place and lowered a face mask over me. I felt like a deep-sea diver. She gave me a squeeze ball to hold with my left hand and shouted in at me: "Just squeeze this anytime and it will all be stopped." As the bed, and my head, began sliding into that big mouth, she said, "It'll only take a minute." It took about five. I wasn't anxious, except that I didn't know HOW still I had to hold my head. Could I even swallow? So, in the middle of this overwhelming experience I closed my eyes and set myself the task of trying to figure that out. Working out the various factors. Thinking. It's so relaxing. Being myself, doing my thing. I drifted into another space; I was no longer there. Until she said something tinny on the microphone and the bed started moving out. No problem, except that I forgot where the change room was, and then how to get out of there.

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Medical Update, for those interested

8/5/2016

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Here’s what happened: On Monday I was doing my usual stair climb. I think I was on the ninth flight of stairs, out of ten. By #8 I had been puffing heavily. I always slow down when that happens, so as not to get a heart attack in the stairwell. But I guess I was still pushing it too hard. My right leg went partially numb. At the same time there was a strange kind of numb feeling in my head (inside my brain?).

The leg didn't go completely numb and I was able to get to the apartment and sit down. It lasted about three minutes. Luckily, I immediately recognized it as a mini-stroke, so looked it up on the internet. It said to get to the hospital without delay. I took a cab and was in a bed within half an hour of it happening. (They ushered me right in, past a huge room full of waiting people!)

A nurse took ten phials of blood; another did an ultrasound of the arteries in my neck that lead into my brain, into me. The next day I went back and they slid me through the big CT Scanner.

The doctor said they found a tiny enlargement in my cortex, in an area that indicated it was probably caused by a blood clot from my heart. The CT Scan wasn’t detailed enough to be sure, so tomorrow I will go in for an MRI scan. (Which I would love to watch on the screen. Not too many people’s minds ever get the opportunity to see themselves!) Then, a couple days later, I go for an echocardiogram, which is an ultrasound of my heart, I guess to look for the source of the blood clot, and maybe also to see if a heart attack might be imminent as well. They’ll also attach a monitor to my chest to watch my heart rhythms over 48 hours.

And all because of only three minute
s of numbness! Since then, nothing else has happened, thankfully. And the stroke doesn’t seem to have produced any side effects in me. So this is the best possible outcome: a very real occurrence that leaves no damage but nevertheless is loud enough to get me to change my lifestyle.

The doctor, a stroke specialist, gave me a sheaf of notes he had put together on how to prevent further strokes, which included a lot of vegetarian recipes. Essentially, he said, our meat and ice cream diets are the main causes of strokes--and heart attacks. Followed closely by lack of exercise and stress.

Well, I probably eat better than the average Canadian (loving fruit and vegetables and not caring much for meat), and probably even do better-than-average exercise-wise. That leaves stress.

So I’m making some big changes.

In terms of food, I’m aiming towards being a vegetarian, cutting fats and meats, but also, in the interests of health, cholesterol, sugar, and salt. As much as possible, anyway, without becoming a fanatic. I would have already been a vegetarian except that Linda is such a carnivore. But now, because of the big medical scare she had gone through just before I had my stroke (which caused me to worry so much about her that I had the stroke), she has totally changed her eating habits. Now she’s really getting into foods she has always avoided like the plague. So it will be a lot easier for me to change too.

(In case you are a believer in the health benefits of lots of protein and/or fats, the latest large-scale studies show that of the three diets—high protein, high carbohydrates, and high fats—only the high carbohydrate diet increases the life span of the people who live on it. Both of the others reduce the average life span. You can find the studies on the internet.)

In terms of exercise, I’m going to increase it, not decrease it, but not push the aerobics too hard. Keeping it to the pace of a brisk walk will be good for me and shouldn’t kill me.

In terms of stress, I have to make a lot of changes. Whether or not I keep organizing the open mic, I’m not sure of yet. I would like to see it carry on when I quit.

Until I quit, there are a lot of things I can do to reduce my stress load. For starters, I’ve been terrible at organizing myself and my usage of time. Doing it properly is largely a matter of continually writing in a calendar the things that have to be done, when they have to be finished, when started, and when each aspect of them should be worked on to get them done in time. And all this needs to be done two events in advance because the work on them overlaps. I’ve always tried (but never succeeded) to get myself to do this properly. Consequently, I’m always worrying about whether I’m missing things, or if I’m getting them done on time. That worry causes continuous stress, a stress that builds up over time. By the end of the season, I’m burnt out from it.

Another thing I’m going to stop doing is two things at once. Any two things, even simple things like having the TV on while I’m writing something on the computer. Or even having music on while I’m working. Or carrying on a conversation while I’m doing anything. Etc, etc. I’ve noticed that part of my brain suffers tremendous stress from continually trying to sort it all out. (I imagine it doesn’t work this way in extreme extroverts, who need a lot happening just to stay awake.)

I see Linda several times a day sitting out on the balcony meditating. During these times, I have to be careful not to disturb her, which is difficult when she’s there all alone in that beautiful balcony room she’s created, looking out over the green trees of the city, seemingly just waiting to have a good conversation. Instead, I watch and learn the value of meditation. And now, finally, I’m going to join her. After a lifetime of tiny attempts. Hopefully, meditating will stop the stress from building through the day.
​
Our lives are mostly composed of a steady stream of risks, along with a steady stream of attempts to minimize them. In other words, we live on hope. I’ve reached the point where the next failed risk will likely end my life. So from now on it has to be all or nothing.

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Yesterday I had a mini-stroke.

8/2/2016

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Picture
It was a warning. And now Linda and I have both had powerful shots across the bow, both in the last few days.

Just before my stroke, I was afraid Linda might have the worst cancer going, pancreatic. Luckily it turned out to be something else, we’re not sure what yet, but if it had been pancreatic cancer she wouldn’t have had more than a year to live.

In my case, I certainly didn’t think I was close to being stroke material. For a long time, my diet and exercise habits have been better than average. But I’ve ignored the big third factor, stress, at my peril. Actually, instead of reducing it in my retirement, I’ve dramatically increased my stress load by becoming a social organizer, not an easy job for a shy person. During the open mic’s first couple of years, my stress was often so high I worried about having a heart attack. But I got through that. And finally, during the last season, the fourth, I felt like I was coasting: I was much less shy, thanks to forcing myself out into the social world all that time, and I seemed to be less anxious in general. However, it looks like that kind of long-term stress builds itself into the body; it’s very telling that it was during this last week of worry about Linda that I had this mini-stroke.
​
Anyway, we’ve both survived, and now we’re seriously working on our lives, hoping to reverse these problems before it’s too late. And that is possible. People who survive their first heart attack or mini-strokes often live long healthy lives simply because they start off in a fresh new direction after hitting rock bottom.


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Linda and I are suddenly feeling enormous relief, especially Linda!

7/28/2016

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We just got back from the doctors, with the results from her ultrasound and blood tests. And NOTHING!!!

Most importantly, she has no pancreas problems, the worst possibility of all being pancreatic cancer, and death within a year. Not even pancreatitis. And no liver problems. And no kidney problems, which the symptoms all seemed to point to, assuming the pancreas weren't at fault. There were NO blood or ultrasound findings for any of these!

And yet she still has terrible, continual pain and burning, and has had for a long time now. So it has to be something. But whatever it is, it's not as serious as we were imagining. From here it's a process of elimination. The first possibility to eliminate is "nerve pain", from a damaged or squeezed nerve from the spine. Apparently, that could cause the same symptoms.

But in any case, now Linda can finally relax and stop worrying about her life. Walking downtown from the doctor's to indulge in her first normal meal since she's been on her extremely restrictive diet, she suddenly threw her arms up in the air and said, with a big smile, "I feel like a totally new woman!!", and, as it sank in, "Now you and I might have another twenty years together!"


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    Stan Burfield's Blog

    Organizer of London Open Mic Poetry. former support worker for people with autism and developmental disabilities.  former farm boy, former adventurer, former florist.
    The 2014 Ted Plantos Memorial Award

    Interview in Your Old South Magazine
    Interview: The "My Writing Process" Blog Tour

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    Going Out
    1. House Fly Dancing to Mozart

    Videos
    *Linda at the Christmas Craft Show
    *Our apartment
    *The  indigenous poetry event
    *Lake of Fear
    *The art of the slow talk
    *Our new Guerrilla Poetry series at the library
    *Stan discovers some treasure.

    Photo Albums
    *2 hours in one of Linda's days
    *How'd she get in there? 
    *Before the leaves
    *Pensive in winter mist.
    *New Year's Day, 2017.
    *Linda's Christmas decorations 
    *Linda and her Christmas display
    *Linda made whole wheat scones.
    *Seeing Linda off
    ​
    *Linda in first day of snow. ​
    *Balcony finished?
    *Linda relaxing
    *We'll see...
    ​*Linda and I in the Rose Garden. 
    *Listening to the leaves popping open. It sounds like rain, or crickets.
    *Fred, my father
    *​A perfect day to stroll in the woods. 
    ​
    Short Blurbs
    *Voting Booth
    *Screaming and shouting
    *New diary plan
    *That's just weird
    *It happens like this...
    *Kevin Heslop as an actor!
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    *Paterson: great movie about a poet 
    *I learned from Thomas Moore...
    *Linda' skills are blooming
    *Here's how my day began...
    *...or we don't.
    *An actual woman to a man...
    *On this Valentines Day... ​
    *How little I've changed!
    *A sunny dream, with no fear.
    *Little mistakes....
    *A label for the essence of something
    *​Dream of a typed poem
    *Here's what I want:
    *I like her quirks.
    *A little success
    *The course of history...
    *From "The Cat's Table" by Ondaatje
    *Happy to be a citizen again
    *I THINK IT’S LIKE THIS.
    *I'm so lucky.
    *After rollercoastering, I'm excited!!!
    *Old photos
    *Fire!
    *A memory that keeps returning.
    *What is TRUMP''S AUTHORITARIANISM all about?
    *Practising morality on Halloween
    *Hanging on to an ethic
    *LOOK OUT!!
    *Out of a harsh thing...
    *Mr. Moon comes rolling in.
    *What if...
    *Will I and the Open Mic both survive?
    *I'm now a published poet! Finally.
    *Well, the MRI is done. 
    *Yeah!!! I'm finally a published poet!
    *Medical Update, for those interested
    *Yesterday I had a mini-stroke.
    *We being ourselves.
    *Enormous relief
    *Orange-oatmeal cookies!
    *To put London Open Mic behind me
    ​
    *She sings!
    *Worried
    *While walking home from the store with cherries...
    *Science
    *Standing Still
    *Hey, get a job!
    ​
    *Linda and I are learning to trust.
    *Linda is away visiting relatives. 
    *"We halted and so knew that the quiet night was full of sounds..."
    ​
    *"We halted and so knew that the quiet night was full of sounds..."
    ​
    *Diet and health/longevity
    *Edward Hopper: Woman in Train Compartment
    *A pea and a bean in a pod
    ​*Colt!
    ​*Don't get it off your chest.
    ​*In a world that is neither Heaven nor Hell, hope drives everything.
    *Roy is 80
    *What is going on with these incredible coincidences I keep having?
    *My world of coincidences
    *Is that rumble a distant train or the city?
    *Revelations are everywhere.
    *Knowing you
    *Despite...
    ​
    *The sound of love
    ​
    *Our smile for the day
    *Hurricanes Carla and Esther
    ​*Time Warp!

    *The Pow Wow
    *The Polar Sea
    *Other people
    *Moccasin Bells
    * Stories from my life
    *Je  suis Charlie Hebdo, mais....
    *Life at a fire lookout tower
    *Dominoes
    *Grinch
    *This was my dad in 1965
    *Blue

    Personal Essays
    *Here’s my inch, for what it’s worth
    *Freedom to talk
    *I wonder
    ​*Will I and the Open Mic both survive?
    *Medical Update, for those interested
    *Fred, my father
    *THIS  IS  GETTING  TOO  WEIRD:  the nearly-impossible coincidences are rolling in en masse now.
    *After four seasons, I'm flying!
    ​
    *True North
    ​
    *Back to work on poetry, finally!!
    ​
    *Maybe it's time to see a psychiatrist.
    *66: My best birthday ever.
    *Out of darkness..
    *Hacker attack. Oh man...
    *Jean Vanier, what is this thing he's discovered?
    *Jean Vanier and L'Arche
    *But then again...
    *A Most Useful Invention
    *Building my next beater.
    *My dreams are full of people now.
    *Dear Diary: Relax. Take your boots off. 
    *Those big pictures
    *An UnSilent Night
    *Urban Legends
    *Familiar
    *I  had a glass of Landon Cabernet last night
    *The Less-educated Imagination
    *Listen, I'll tell you something that's really got me worried
    *Can't get enough


    Poems
    *The universe as a poem
    *If you don't know
    *A meander through Euston Park 
    *The Picard Card
    *To Open the Morning
    * We'll see...
    *1st published poem: On a Crate 
    *We decide
    *Standing Still
    *DRINK
    *Oblivious
    *Some Other Place
    *Tinnitus
    *It seems you just have to be still
    *In the Night
    *When I was young
    *Not for inspiration
    *Oh
    *Concerning our Glorious Future: (2nd prize winner at 2014 Poetry London Contest)
    *Yes I heard Ginsberg read once he said prepare for death
    *Amazement
    *Getting used to it
    *And now the news
    *Heart Shaped


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