My eyes drift to the garden,
Lifted by soft citrine light
Toward the Witch Hazel’s
Glow, lonely and bright.
Fed by waning day’s lazy rays,
Among burnt brown and grays
This courageous bush
Harassed by Frost
Beacons by it’s spry gleam
Giving patient solace to
Weary winter dream.
Author Archives: Garnet David
Compulsive Behavior
The insidious thing about compulsive behavior is that it seems so innocent when it’s happening. It presents itself in such a non-threatening way. It says, or you say to yourself, “I’ll just do this one little thing, and then stop”. But the catch is, you repeat that little innocent step indefinately.
In the past few weeks, I’ve been neglecting many important aspects of my life, like proper eating, exercise, practicing the clarinet (my vocation), yoga, meditation, etc. All because I kept saying “just this one thing”. Well, guess what I was doing compulsively? Setting up this site. Why? Who knows? It certainly lures me as new window through which to view the world and connect with it. It seems so easy to set up in the instructions before you install. I certainly did the research before attempting to download and install. But it made little difference. The process is fraught with detailed pitfalls, which simply take hours to fix.
At one point, I was having conversations with myself online in the help forums of Word Press, the software engine I use here. When a problem seemed insurmountable, I’d post a cry for help. Then ten minutes later, I’d solve a part of the problem, post that, then post another cry. Each time I was about to give up, I’d inch closer. Help!
And the little voice in my head just kept saying, “just a little more, you’re almost there”.
Now, three days later, the voice is stronger than ever. The sensible part of me just cowers, thinking, “he’ll stop soon.”.
Even after setting things up to my liking, there are always little details of the layout or navigation I want to fix. It’s like decorating a room. You want the color juuuuust right, and the furniture laid out in the most accesible way. For most people, this is done over time. Not me. I have been known to touch up the paint in a room while still wearing my white tie and tails right after returning home from a performance.
Anyway, I hope you check back regularly to see what compulsive poetry or other stuff I put on here. And you are welcome to post comments. Just click on the pale “comment” listing under the post. I’d like to hear that you are enjoying what I’ve done. After all, I only do it for “you”. (fluttering of lashes)
Myth of Tomorrow
I’ve been reading a book called the Myth of Tomorrow by Gary Buffone, Ph.D. The title is poetically apt. It’s an investigation into how the honesty of Death spurs us to live more fully. Those who have had near death experiences show a much richer, more positive view of life. They are more willing to love, more willing to take chances, more willing to change. They appreciate what they have. How can we train ourselves to live now as fully as possible? It’s quite an undertaking, pardon the pun. But a healthy respect for death gives a fresh perspective to the little gripes that often occupy much of a day. Think about it…
Anyway, this book also has some wonderful quotes, which I’d like to enter here on a regular basis. Here’s the first. “If you bring forth what is inside you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is inside you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you” —Gospel of St. Thomas
Comfort of Friends
During my childhood my family moved every two or three years to another city. My father worked for the US Foreign Service Diplomatic Corps, and we were transfered regularly. I learned not to put down deep roots.
As an adult, I wonder how much this affected me. In some ways, I’ve always been a loner. I’m a musician, and our best work is done alone in the practice room. I’ve never been a team player, but I think that’s just the way I am.
Where do the causes stop and the effects begin? Maybe my rootlessness gave me an advantage. Perhaps I was able to step outside of a situation and see that change is not so threatening. After all, my security was intact. I always had my family with me.
As I gracefully enter the prime of life at age 45, I begin to realize that my physical rootlessness may have laid the foundation for seeking deeper friendships. I am very faithful, and will exert great effort to keep in touch with long lost friends. Usually I’m the one who is let down. I am slow to form deep relationships, and I admit I have issues with intimacy. But once I decide there’s value in a person, they almost never get written off by me. Sometimes I even suffer from stress caused by “managing” too many friendships.
My life is entering a stage where my roots are beginning to deepen. I have been in the same house for 16 years, the longest time in one place. And I have remodeled the entire place to my liking. Yet if I had to move tomorrow, I think I would manage. I feel most at home when sharing the company of friends. That is the only home I need.