Strange To Be Me!

Author at Two

      Written from the subconscious Buddha Blues  even seems a bit strange to me. Only a few seconds ago brushing my teeth I thought about the strangeness of having an Unabridged Dictionary as a plot device. I recall, my mother had a large dictionary on the bookshelf in the living room.  I loved to pull the book off the shelf then lay on the floor in the middle of the living room flipping through the pages. Not unabridged her dictionary had wonderful illustrations of words on each margin which I enjoyed looking at before reading the meaning of the words. With that memory the fact that subconsciously an Unabridged dictionary became part of the book takes on an interesting significance.

    The working title for the book now subtitle Strange To Be Me also seems a bit strange. A person would think somebody entering their seventy-second year would be completely aware of who they are. Yet my spiritual journey continues to unfold. The picture of me at two surfaced while sorting through pictures getting ready to downsize and move. I don't remember anything from that age. When did I become conscious of being me? At what age did my first memories start to develop? When did my personality start to develop? Based on family stories I know we moved during my second year to the house I remember growing up in. The one that had my mother's book case with her large dictionary in it. When did those memories start? Who took the picture? Why am I laughing? 

    Francis the main character wakes up in a hospital, "the last place on earth he wants to be if still alive," not remembering who he is only aware  of his first name. Nor does he remember what brought him to the hospital. Those details unfold as the story develops. Has my life not been similar born to try to remember who I am. People appear to help or hinder Francis in his attempt to learn who he is and what brought him to the hospital. The same can be said for my development. 

    Buddha Blues contains a large number of characters. The process of writing the book still amazes me. With tongue in cheek I normally  wrote a short chapter each day. Typically when I sat down to write a new character arose from the subconscious to advance the plot. The Zen Master, Master Master first came to Francis's attention as he lay in his hospital bed waking up to the smell of burning rope. When Francis opened his eyes he saw Master Master sitting in a chair beside the bed smoking marijuana while appearing to be lost in meditation.  Immediately Francis informed him that smoking was verboten. Francis then had to prod Master Master into an awkward conversation to learn his particulars.  

    I'm still in the process of learning my "particulars" writing is a method to facilitate my journey.  One of the things learned along the way is the importance of other people in our lives.  The first published book, A Journey In The Human Dilemma, can be summed up as the difficulty in becoming a human being. There's sadness, sorrow, beauty, gratitude and even some joy in the poems. These poems still resonate with me. I've picked out three to share at years end. 

 

                                                                      Week Day Morning

                                                           After choruses of, 'Not oatmeal again,'

                                                                        And, 'Don't tell me,'

                                                               And, 'Dad she's making faces,'

                                                                    I tell the girls to go brush,

    Open the curtains a slice,

    Let one wedge of sunlight

    Propel my coffee cup shadow

    to the wall. Seated,

    I watch the light eyes of dust

    eddy down my breath into the crumbs.

    Finally, big Sis and little Wart,

    press me a kiss, push off for the bus.

    Long afterwards in their wake,

    The dust rises, winking up.

Walk to Paradise Garden

In the picture under a canopy of leaves, side by side,

hand in hand, a little boy and a little girl walk away

down a woodland lane.

In my mind, the two children are afraid and brave and trusting

as step by step together they move toward a distant, sunlit glen.

Some things are missing from the picture. There's no house 

to shelter them, no mortgage, no car to take them, no sex,

home box office, VCR, internet or cell phone.

All there is; is the simple, elegant expression of that which 

sustains the bond between a woman and a man.

Later, with a May sun warm on our backs,

we walk through lilac fragrant air,

holding hands, we're more than halfway there.

    Still waters run deep. Reading these poems wets my eyes, reminds me how lucky I am.  My daughters long grown now mothers raise their sons my grandsons as the newest generation. The second poem speaks to the simple act of taking each others hand and the friendship that can exist between the sexes.  My big sister Judith only a little older took me in tow early on encouraged me from the start. I feel lucky to have had and still have her sisterly love.  Maybe the two year old me in the picture is smiling and laughing with her.  

   Inside the card reads: Have a happy birthday. Why? Why not!

Signed ... Teee  Heee! Love J.

    Thanks Judith! And for all the wonderful art work. 

    The last poem is the last one in the book. A fitting way to end the year and this blog.

A Winter Observation

The winter sun is out today. Blue sky again with small scattered white clouds. Last night a hard freeze. On the ground, frozen leaves and grass sparkle with frost crystals. Bare trees stand patiently. Dried brown leaves that yet cling, move with each breeze. The treetops reach only so high, then the sky begins; but is there really any separation between the two. The trees grow into the sky at the point where limbs lose all stiffness, at the same time the sky reaches down to mingle, stiffen and become the ever branching limbs. Who can say where one ends and the other beings. 

Let the Journey continue....

 

    Thank you my friends for joining me on this journey. We help and encourage each other by the simple act of caring. May Peace and Serenity be yours and bring joy to your family at the start of the New Year. 

Ps: Watch for Chickens Crossing the Road, but don't stop to ask them why!

        Anthony G. Hendricks, author, poet, nature lover -- naturally;  Buddha Blues, just published with a great cover created by his Sister Judith; available at Amazon as print on demand or as an e book at Amazon or Kobo. With formatting help on cover and interior by Woven Red. Other books The Wasteland Revisited, a book length poem about the dystopia causing global warming; available as an e book at Amazon; A Journey In The Human Dilemma, collected poetry and prose; trade paper back only available through the author.