Articles
Bad Shoes
I can’t seem to find shoes that fit right. I still go to the store and try them on, and they feel fine, but then I start wearing them and they just don’t feel great.
I realize I need a few things to get it right. It needs to be the 1970s. I need to go to a department store, and a stranger has to use one of these jammies to measure my feet:
Then my mother has to press the tip of the shoe. Listen, I get that she was making sure there was some space for me to grow into them, but this process always worked. So, with these three simple and very realistic steps, I’ll be back in good shoes in no time.
UConn Hoops
We went to the first game of the season last night. I feel so fortunate to have UConn sports in my life. It connects me to my wife, family and so many friends. The communal feeling of being a fan is so valuable to me. I treasure moments, like being in an airport wearing some gear and a stranger says, “Go Huskies!”
I love seeing the unknown
I was fascinated to see this hydrant before it was installed.
I have never thought about what was under the ground. Never pondered how it worked, the way it connected to water, the depth of what was hidden.
I didn’t realize I was curious about all of this before all the answers were right in front of me. It just reminded me that almost everything is fascinating, even if only in small ways.
Old Friend
This was an hour ago. I was alerted by Anna barking. He stood their calmly, not placid, eyeing Anna with concern but not fright.
He stood still as I took pictures, took the time just to look at him. The intelligence in his eyes reminded me of wisdom, an idea supported by the white shading his brown coat.
My Story 1: “The Missing Antler” He lost the antler but won the fight.
My Feelings: Blessed. Fortunate. Aligned. Humbled.
My Story 2: “Grey Mein” Age withers but does not defeat.
My Fantasy: Spirit of an old god. Patron of flight and fight. Master of camouflage.
My Feelings 2: Fear that if I step out of line this kind of thing won’t happen to me anymore.
My Belief: Be an animal.
I called him “Old Friend” maybe 6 times. The last was when he finally ran. I said it and he stopped and looked back at me. I said “Goodbye, Old Friend.”
You Got This
I started noticing these painted stones on hikes during the pandemic. The messages were always encouraging, sometimes heartwarming, sometimes funny. I loved the sense I got of the person behind them: empathic, positive, artistic and creative.
Though it is only a painted stone, for a moment I felt connected to someone else, a person who wished me well, just as I did them. This is an important feeling to have, and these stones genuinely helped me on my way.
I’m happy someone is still painting them. We still need these messages of hope and solace.
1/2 a year!
I’m not going to say I’m on a fitness journey because my belly. But I have emphasized getting 13000 steps daily for 6 months. Not only is this keeping me somewhat fit, it is also practice at consistency.
I feel like being consisted has often been a weakness. My Fitbit streak helps me prove to myself that I can keep it up.
I think this is directly responsible for my streak here. Just like I won’t stop until I get my steps, I feel like it’s necessary to post, even if it’s just a picture.
Hunting Hawk
I posted before about seeing wild animals frequently, and how special and spiritual the experience is. Yesterday, on my way home, I saw a Red-Tailed Hawk scoop up a squirrel and fly with it into the trees. Not only was this a spectacular natural experience, but it also inspired some personal thinking.
I’m not sure I always believe a natural experience is a sign, but it the better story. So what could this be a sign of? My book Tao of Thoreau has really been selling lately. Perhaps it is a sign that I am capturing an audience? Or maybe not, since that squirrel would represent my readers, and I don’t want them to be eaten. Maybe it means the book is “killing” them?
Certainly, it could be a bad sign. I suppose I could be the squirrel, in the clutches of a predator. But I don’t like that story, so I think I’ll stick with the first one.
Afraid of the Dim
I’ve always thoughts dimness was more frightening than darkness.
I’ve had dreams throughout my life where the only light is a dim, dusty gray. I was always frightened in these dreams. Objects were just on the edge of visible, and took on a strange character, as if the gray light changed their natures into something foul, perhaps evil.
Continue readingNotes on infinity
I don’t know if this is going to be a poem or article. Maybe both. I’m trying to grasp the infinite abundance of our world, our universe.
Count the pine needles
I thought of that line as I walked through the woods, looking at the yellow blanket of pine needles on the trail and under the trees. Imagine trying to count them. It made me think about the line where measurements blur into the infinite.
Look to infinity
Relentless abundance
You are standing in it
Walking on it
Throbbing with it
Infinity is the disappearing importance of measurement
Of rulers
Of defining numerals
Measure me out
a teaspoon of thyme.
But make me the same teaspoon twice
With the exact number of grains each time.
I feel like I’m capturing something that I have been after a long time. These are elusive thoughts, though, and it takes time to refine them.
Mark Bozeman 