Sol's Inner Vault

The sun behind the sail locks all coordinates for the heart's voyage. You're already unique in the universe. You've finally forgotten the future. You'll soon remember something you've never known. Expect the impossible while ignoring what is likely. First, face those fears with no name. Then, face that fear that names you. Names harness their random power. Who gave you those masks before you were anyone? When can you peel them off to begin again? Do you trust your own beguiling smile? Then, keep going in opposite directions, but tack to the most northern winds. You'll arrive at your destination out of breath, unbelievably tired. You'll remember: Gratitude is eternal.

At the risk of looking like the dropped burger patty on the grass, a few thoughts about how we Americans may celebrate this momentous day of independence.  Yes, it's about family, freedom, pride, picnics, and the fireworks. Yet, how many ponder or even recall how these rituals and joyous symbols still represent the chaos, uncertainty, and suffering of war? How the fireworks characterize "the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air." All the precious lives lost. My amazing mom, Rachel, never liked the shows we saw together as a family at the L.A. Coliseum, but I didn't know why until I asked. As a survivor of the Auschwitz death camp seventy-five years ago, the exploding fireworks and smoky drama only remind her of the fearful horror she experienced. Our gratitude for receiving the gift of life in America has been huge. Emigrating to liberty after tyranny and World War is a blessed voyage full of love, hope, and opportunity. Every year, so not forgotten, let&

So often, in so many ways, I'm reminded how two things can be true at once. A few days ago marked another anniversary of legendary writer Earnest Hemingway's suicide in 1961.  It is well-known how tortured his life had become his last decade, the illness and depression, the multiple shock treatment sessions, the alcohol. Finally, he could no longer write or even read, the two mainstays of his very existence, identity, and ability. But, my own empathy regarding Hemingway and his very sad decision is reluctantly blurred by the way he chose to exit this world. No, I don't mean by his gruesome manner of dying by gunshot.  I mean that he chose - however one is even able to 'choose' in such final moments of despondency and hopelessness - to end his life in the foyer of the home he shared with his wife. In his last act of brutish disregard for his long enduring spouse, Hemingway underscores the colossal, intrinsic selfishness of his character. Hardly a macho persona, but r

Commander-in-Chief cognitively compromised  they knew it and we  knew it too so now  swamp rats leave rapidly  in single file seeking fast  and new heroes while  not looking back at  the sinking ship of deceit  and subterfuge cargoes  of peddled lies become  anchors of doom.