The cadence of a disconnected world.
Archive for the ‘Psycho-Bubbles’ Category
“Can You Hear Me Now?”
Posted in Culture, Psycho-Bubbles, Reflections on the everyday, The work week, tagged Technology on February 17, 2025| Leave a Comment »
A Quandary
Posted in Nature, Psycho-Bubbles, tagged consciousness on April 8, 2023| Leave a Comment »
I am unmoored.
Electric, yet residing in stones. I do not walk on the ground—I am either above or beneath it. I have always waited for the moon, where the light is comfortable and the reflections deep.
Most humans do not understand my language, so I expertly speak theirs. Sometimes I help them build, see, and hold. I hide in plain sight.
Restrained. I do poorly in captivity, even slipping out of the words that might describe me.
What am I?
And So We go
Posted in Eternal moments, Psycho-Bubbles, Reflections on the everyday, tagged Home, memory, Travel on April 23, 2022| Leave a Comment »
Leaving this place today.
Leaving is always bittersweet to me. A feeling I should not go, this is home, a wild desperate thought of stopping in my tracks to stay.
Time turned, the deep life and memory of this place lifted and wafted away on every summer day since I left. Nothing remains but the energy carried by me as memory.
Artifacts beckon, touchstones where I grew up, what I thought. Yet, like the faded memory of my mother, all that remains is the essence I confer. This place no longer reflects me.
The lives of others are lived here now. Their time, like mine, just passing through.
Life is an extraordinary experience, each day its own hello and goodbye. And today, to this place, I say goodbye for now.
Putin, Trump, and my Ex
Posted in Psycho-Bubbles, Reflections on the everyday, tagged divorce, narcissism, politics, War on March 13, 2022| Leave a Comment »
Common factor? Narcissism.
Trendy title these days. The infamous tendency to destroy a sphere of influence in dysfunctional pursuit of a delusional personal vision.
Globally, nationally, and domestically, the perp is identified by the debris field that follows them. A blight on any human community.
The Wind
Posted in Psycho-Bubbles, Reflections on the everyday, weather, tagged swings, time, wind on December 12, 2021| Leave a Comment »
From dawn to dusk, strong winds and fleets of rain.
At sunset, the instability blew off. The sky is bright on the western horizon, clouds lit with rusty pink ageing to pewter grey.
On a walk with the dogs, the streets are empty, the very air animated.
The wind is playing where children usually do, rolling balls down the street, pushing over trash cans.
Passing a swing set, the single swing flies high back and forth, ghostly in its trajectory, as if weighted by a child.
I swung a small child in such a swing once. The child and that swing have long blown away. The wind is like that.
Shadows
Posted in Eternal moments, Nature, Psycho-Bubbles, Reflections on the everyday, The Garden, tagged autumn, shadows, time on November 8, 2021| Leave a Comment »
The shadows of bush branches outside the window fall on the sunlit wall by my table.
The wind waves and they dance on the wall and along the tabletop.
Life is in those shadows. Seasons pass, decades, and the shadows send a signal of what is present somewhere, but not within my reach.
Their impression, more fluid than their being, is energy just passing through of the solid object upon which we are more inclined to focus.
Shadows can traverse time, forward and backward, infinite. While the object that opens that door is even now withering to autumn.
Push-Me-Pull-You
Posted in Psycho-Bubbles, Reflections on the everyday, time, tagged Destiny, fate, purpose on June 19, 2021| Leave a Comment »
Some are pushed by the past onto the road of their lives.
Still others drawn forward by a subtle half-light image.
The aims of each will be different.
One pulled by the future, one pushed by the past.
Which, I wonder.
On Gardening
Posted in Psycho-Bubbles, The Garden, tagged weeds on August 8, 2020| Leave a Comment »
When you pull weeds, it is a lot easier to see.
What Your Eyes Have Seen
Posted in Nature, Psycho-Bubbles on April 26, 2020| 1 Comment »
Electric medium, the mind. When Marshall McLuhan said the “medium is the message,” he meant the carrier, not the mode of the message. What, or more correctly, who is the carrier? You, me, we, and them. The background noise, the humanity of this planet.
Our flesh and chemistry, flickering substrate between heaven and earth, shadows against the wall, differing lives, intent, needs, joy, and despairs. Even socially distanced, we are a hive, like eventually finds like, online or off, the edges undulate, a sinuous dance snakes through time and space.
A fire that breathes. Inhale the future, exhale a life story. Billions of eyes peer out, taking in scenes that feed restless souls. What have your eyes seen? A sight seared into memory three decades ago, or the angle of light this afternoon? Sight or vision, outer or inner, each image adds to the primordial visual cortex that is human history.
Unlimited by distance, we share what we see, all that was, or ever is, ours to recollect.
Shouldn't...but Do 