We are in the eternal spin cycle of artificial intelligence, AI, and the algorithms thereof. The underlying media strategy of exploiting the sensational is not much different than pre-internet days when the mode of operation for newspapers and tv channels was "Whatever bleeds leads."

While I feel compassion for both Jennifer Garner and Ben Affleck in this circumstance, they have PR people and additional resources to address it.

The stakes are devastatingly higher in the political/electoral realm which is putting our democracy at risk (or as I've written previously, on life support.) I understand that you utilized a celebrity news story to reveal the greater challenge and more important story unfolding. "Flooding the zone with shit" is right out of the books of infamous autocrats and tyrants, as citizens are left dazed and/or divided on what's true or important.


sunset’s end, photo by Lyndon

Watch the life cycle
repeat repeat repeat
as another sunset cracks open:
hot sun on western blue,
descending into a river of colors
that soaks clouds, gilds peaks,
all radiant glory to dimming drop.

Finally the last smudge
of deep rose fades to charcoal
on this autumnal night,
a scent of apples
lacing the breeze.

And I see my life
amidst human time
not even a half breath,
then pray-
May the ash of my bones
be anointed with wild rose
then released to sea, soil,
no human marker
save the imprint
of love.

of wings and wonder, photo by Lyndon

Finding God

God was introduced to me in a small Congregational Church with Wedgwood blue walls and a plain wooden cross on the north wall. He filled my starving belly with the home-baked ginger cookies and apple juice they served as part of Sunday school, the Bible stories mere backdrop…

public domain

Screen Prisons

The internet, a 24/7 global threshold, gives us access to skewed perspectives of the world based on algorithms. It is all about capturing mindshare and frequent engagement for profit. It is predatory code and has no interest in your mental and physical health. It cares nothing for your…

Merciful, Moociful

As I look out my office window, the sun breaks the boundaries of today’s clouds. Immediately, the snowfields glow, almost blinding on their sweep down to the inky blue expanse of Lake Champlain, whose western shoreline is anchored by the snow strewn Adirondacks. This view never gets old. …

a different season

Of all the seasons of a life, COVID-19 has been one of the most challenging. Certainly, it’s been the most unusual. Today the virus moved a bit closer to our immediate family, as a fellow employee of a family member is symptomatic and awaiting test results. …

cradling the last light

At the Threshold

A gentle shower
washes my mother’s death
the lingering sensation
of her hand held in mine,
remnants of words
on my lips
whispered against her ear
“I love you.”
“You’re safe.”
“It’s okay to let go.”

I learn in a circle,
death is its own cleansing.
Where we are
how we are
the distances any two souls
travel together
meet at a threshold
of grace and forgiveness,
to honor
love’s ferocious resilience
compassion’s brimming reach-
each wrapped in the quietest,
gentlest light
at the borders of breath
as we say goodbye.

January 19th, 7th anniversary of my mother’s death.

Hero Lessons

He is coming. The popping-crackle sound of tires on gravel, the soft whir of car engine announces him. It is likely Friday, though in the earlier years it could have been any day, the unpredictability key. I am 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14…


Essays ~ Memoir ~ Poetry ~ Photos ~ Repeat

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