I walk the path slowly


Cache Creek at Baton Flat, Northern California.

The house of country, the nation of us.

Whispering, whispering. America

Has become a house of secrets and lies,

A house of deceit, a house of lament.

The people are hiding, the truth is hiding;

Even the president is hiding

His true face from the sun.


The trees here are rich and green,

And connected to this world by roots

That are strong and deep.

I walk the path slowly,

Every step and every breath

Connects me to this world.

Root and breath, man and trees,

Step after step, slowly, slowly.

Life is in every inhale, every exhale.

Walking meditation in the park.


Bodhisattva Prayer for Humanity

May I be a guard for those who need protection

A guide for those on the path

A boat, a raft, a bridge for those who wish to cross the flood

May I be a lamp in the darkness

A resting place for the weary

A healing medicine for all who are sick

A vase of plenty, a tree of miracles

And for the boundless multitudes of living beings

May I bring sustenance and awakening

Enduring like the earth and sky

Until all beings are freed from sorrow

And all are awakened.

 -Shantideva, Indian Buddhist sage 700 A.D.  Prayer performed each morning by His Holiness the Dalai Lama

Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it everywhere, diagnosing it incorrectly and applying the wrong remedies.

-Groucho Marx

The Morning Porch/Patio

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