Home Waters

Home Waters

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Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of those rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs.
I am haunted by waters.

- Norman Maclean "A River Runs Through It"

"Many a time have I merely closed my eyes at the end of yet another troublesome day and soaked my bruised psyche in wild water, rivers remembered and rivers imagined. Rivers course through my dreams, rivers cold and fast, rivers well-known and rivers nameless, rivers that seem like ribbons of blue water twisting through wide valleys, narrow rivers folded in layers of darkening shadows, rivers that have eroded down deep into a mountain's belly, sculpted the land. Peeled back the planet's history exposing the texture of time itself."
- Harry Middleton -

If you have wandered from place to place and year to year as I have then perhaps the only place that you call home is a bend in a river. A place returned to time and again so that it becomes the one constant in the random turmoil of life's existence. We become like the river which remains the same and yet is filled with constant slow change. Eventually the river becomes the depository of our life's history, marking and anchoring our ever changing lives. At each visit we deposit a portion of ourselves, a memory of who and what we have become at that nexus in our life. And those memories become one of the timeless rocks in the river that we can revisit and rest upon with each return. My bend in the river calls to me with increasing urgency the longer I am away. It fills me with the sounds of water and images of time past till I am compelled to return. This summer, I am going home...

And this time I will return, not alone, but with a new love as profound as the one I have for the river, the South Fork of the Rio Grande. And I will take her to that bend in the river, and share with her the "rocks" of my life. And we will leave a new stone in the water, in that bend in the river... that is home

-Phillip

And my life journey is reflected in the serene; a lake that has no bends or turns but deep roots and gentle ripples that have scarcely changed over time. Imbued with predictable tradition, my home and I remained constant through the peaks and valleys of my life. But oh how I’ve longed to wander, and to experience the mystery and spontaneity that the moving water proffers. In your home I will find a great passion for living, for change, and the courage to take a risk. And when you hang your hat in the place that I call home – it will never move on you again.
-Tammy

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And so it begins. The merging of two lives and two waters. The river runs into the lake and the lake emerges into the river in a never ending flow. We will make our home in both places, the bend in the river, the shore of the lake; and take inspiration, solace and comfort from each. As the waters of each place surround and nuture and support us so we will surround nurture and support and love each other. Oh yes, we will definitely love each other

-P & T

Chances Are

Chances Are

Bob Segar and Martina McBride

Chances are you'll find me
Somewhere on your road tonight
Seems I always end up driving by
Ever since I've known you
It seems you're on my way

All the rules of logic don't apply
I long to see you in the night
Be with you 'til morning light

I remember clearly how you looked
The night we met
I recall your laughter and your smile
I remember how you made me
Feel so at ease
I remember all your grace and your style

And now you're all I long to see
You've come to mean so much to me

Chances are I'll see you
In my dreams tonight
You'll be smiling like the night we met
Chances are I'll hold you and I'll offer
All I have

You're the only one I can't forget
Baby you're the best I've ever met

And I'll be dreaming of the future
And hoping you'll be by my side
And in the morning I'll be longing for the night
For the night

Chances are I'll see you
Somewhere in my dreams tonight
You'll be smiling like the night we met
Chances are I'll hold you and I'll offer
All I have

You're the only one I can't forget
Baby you're the best I've ever met.

Now, if you like, go listen to the song!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hl7LdevJ71c

So what is this post about? As those of you who have read these posts have probably figured out, I am incurably romantic. I believe that it is love that makes us alive: love in all its ramifications; love of self first, love of others, friends, family, lovers and really everything, the world and life itself.

This verse captured me;

"I remember clearly how you looked
The night we met
I recall your laughter and your smile
I remember how you made me
Feel so at ease
I remember all your grace and your style

And now you're all I long to see
You've come to mean so much to me"

Here's what that was like for me:

“"if we are connected now, how much more so will we be after we meet?" Now I know”

She took my hand, we touched and fantasy paled, fell away and became reality.
Our eyes held each other and could not look away,
Our hands moved of their own accord touching lightly, exploring,
Our lips touched, and we drew each other in.

Slowly pouring all our pent up passion into each other
Feeling the heat slowly rise between, melting us together into one being.
Then falling slowly apart, only to merge again and yet again
Finding overwhelming joy and peace in each other’s arms.

Till we were spent, drained, and yet we remained joined together still,
Breathing together, quietly marveling at the wonder the magic of it all
This was it, this was and is how it’s supposed to be, this is love in all its glory,
The culmination of two lives, two people finding each other for the first time.


“Still basking in the glow, the scent, the memory of you”

I left her, inhaling the scent of her, crushing my face into her hair,
Filling my hands with her, holding the scent and the memory of her.
And yet I have not left her, every moment is now different for she is always there,
There within and now a part of me, we are still one

and will always be so

Everyone take a deep breathe now! OK? Good. I talked of fantasy and imagining a relationship in my last post. If you are incredibly lucky, the reality of meeting that person for the first time can be overwhelming as it was for me. The fantasy pales in face of what god has sent you in the form of another person and you discover there really is a heaven on earth.

And your life is then irrevocably changed.

IMAGINE

IMAGINE!

One of the beauties of meeting online is that your imagination plays a much larger role in the event. your imagination imbues the conversation with color and light based on your reaction to the words on the screen. Our response to the words creates pictures in our mind. A virtual fantasy surrounding the conversation. A construct that can be achingly beautiful.

Imagine

“but your words clung to my heart for days and I had to return”

A gentle soul, I first held her in my imagination,
like a butterfly that for some strange reason
chose to alight upon my out-stretched hand and stayed, gently fanning her wings.
I held my breath, afraid that she might fly away for ever
And yet…she remained.

Listen

“Yes, ready to listen and talk and share. Help me begin.”

She remained. She share her pain, her hurt, her hopes her dreams, her desires…
I listened and shared as well of similar affairs of the heart and spirit
And deep down in my heart felt the first glimmerings of a connection,
And a hope that this might be more than a conversation.
And still…she remained

Vision

“Here is a glimpse into me”

She said not of me, but into me. A vision in blue
A nymph clothed, yet in my mind barely so.
A face, a voice, and yet so much more, a real, whole, complete woman
Staring out at me beckoning me to come in, to come home.
And secretly…she remained

Fantasy

“Last night was like a dream, a lovely one”

And then, oh then it was all in, every chip she owned, every card on the table
Every moment of the past laid out for me to see, to understand.
And she waited as soft as a butterfly, gentle as the breeze,
Waited on my outstretched hand,
And fearlessly…I remained


I took her hand, held her close, bid the past adieu and be gone
And it was swept away like dust in the wind.
I carried her off into the night, left all the pain behind
And together we made a new beginning, forged a new moment of joy

and only.....we remained

And so it began for us, and so it continues

I built a beautiful fantasy, a butterfly that became a woman

a woman that became more real than I imagined.

Special Places

Many of us have special places in our lives. Places that hold deep meaning, places that we return to again and again either in reality or in our minds. For some that place may be our real home or neighborhood. Maybe we have lived there our whole lives. The history of the place and our part in it coupled with the memories associated with various locations provides comfort and a grounding to our lives.

But for me, home is just a place I hang my hat. I have lived for at least a month in 21 different places on this earth in houses and apartments. Still, I too have a special place. Actually, my family does though I think only my cousin Chris and I hold it dear.

In the 1930's My Grandfather George H Thiele or "Daddo" as he was know to me, began to visit a place called South fork Colorado. A small logging town located on the south fork of the Rio grand in Southwest Colorado. He went each year for the trout that swam in the river, surrounding lakes and streams. Every summer he and his family would spend a week or two in a log cabin at one of the various small lodges that dotted the area. By the time I made my first trip in I think 1956 they knew the area well and were friends with many of the local residents and merchants.

There was a sawmill near the center of town and they burned the sawdust in a large cone like affair and the sweet smell of woodsmoke permeated there area for miles around. . We always knew we were close to town when we could smell the smoke. I can still smell it and even now the smell of sawdust and woodsmoke takes me back there.

My father was not much of a fisherman so it fell to my grandfather to teach us to fish. Daddo was a fly fisherman but he knew the value of live bait; and that worms, cane poles, and boys go together. He taught me how to dig for worms in the soft ground behind the lodge. No store bought worms for us! He would place my brother and I on the bank of the river with the admonition NEVER to enter the water or we would surely drown. And we never did. Later when I became a fly fisherman he would caution us to stay out of deep water as we could easily slip, our waders fill up with water and you guessed it, we would drown. I did not fall in until I was in my forties, and surprisingly did not drown but floated nicely down the river. But I digress. My brother did not take to the fishing but I was hooked and would spend hours on the bank. Later, my grand father bought me my first rod with a push button spinning reel, a Zebco 66 and I could cover far more of the river..... I was always on that riverbank. We went to Colorado almost every year through age 15.

You remember that movie "A River Runs Through It" with Brad Pitt. The scenes on the river uniquely capture what its like to be a trout fisherman, to be one with river. Look, not to get metaphysical or anything, but fishing is NOT about catching fish, It is about hope and faith and connections to another world. If you are lucky you eventually learn to become one with the water, and to get "fishy". To learn to read the water, to sense where the trout would be and eventually to catch some. When I first hit the water, I couldn't catch anything. I had to let go of all my eagerness, all of my anxiety, I had to slow down, to wade the water carefully, slowly quietly. To focus my complete attention on the water in the anticipation and intimation of what lies beneath. I did not know it then but I do now that fishing was my initiation into meditation and mindfulness. To unify the mind, the body, and the river and the moment towards one simple goal. To fish and fish well.

The town is changed now, there is no more burning saw dust and it has lost its rustic nature. It is has become a vacation town with upscale homes and a chinese restaurant and yet the river remains the same. There are places on the Rio Grand at South Fork that I have fished since I was 7 yrs old. When I wade the river, I meet boulders that are old friends, that I have know for over 30 yrs. I may have been gone for 3 yrs, 5 yrs, and now 10 yrs but when I return the river is still there , the rocks are still there and the fish are still there...and I am still there. It is home to me, the one unifying place in my life.

Everytime I drive towards Southfork an anticipation builds. I start into the mountains at Walsenburg, Colorado, and hit the high country plains at Ft Garland. I cross the plains to Monte Vista and I suddenly find myself doing 80 MPH, My heart starts to pound and a pressure builds in my chest. There is no woodsmoke smell to call to me now, but I can still smell it. Old landmarks rise up and pass by; new landmarks are noted. I first cross the Rio Grande at Alamosa and see it intermittantly off the right hand side of highway 160. It finally becomes my constant compainion just west of Del Norte, And then I hit the Railroad tracks that mark my favorite place on the river just out side of South Fork and then I am home.

Birding

What about birding you ask? Good question.

When I went into treatment for alcoholism in February of 2003 I was off work for 6 months. I spent many hours working on my recovery and in Alcoholics Anonymous. But I found I needed something else. In recovery I realized that I had lost connection to the world and that while I needed to reconnect with people, friends and family, I also needed to reconnect with the world itself. And this involved, as Thich Naht Hahn states so eloquently, developing a sense of "deep looking"

For me "deep looking" involves not just seeing but also hearing and feeling as well. It is an attempt to discern the authentic reality of the world at that very moment of observation. But it is more than that. it is for me an attempt to become one with the world.

more to follow

God

Of necessity and purpose this blog will speak clearly about "god".

I have no preconceived notions of god and when I speak of god

I do so in the broadest and most general of terms.

I am not in anyway promoting or criticizing any ones perception

or any religion's conception of god.

I speak only of the spiritual power that is greater than ourselves.

How one defines that power is a purely personal choice.

It is yours and yours alone.

I only ask that the reader to acknowlege the possibility that such spirituality exists in the world.

It exists for me and my ultimate acceptance and recognition of that spirituality

has made all the difference.

It changed my life

It gave and gives me purpose

And hopefully it will allow me to live a life of meaning for whatever time I have left on this earth

Peace

Phillip

Touch

I have been thinking a lot about touch. Touch is one of the 5 primary senses, It is our physical connection to our environment. We touch not only with our hands but also with almost every surface of our body. (the only thing I can think of that doesn't have superficial nerve endings is our teeth). Touch provides us one of our most important connections to the world, it tells us about texture, density, and so much more.

But, what I am interested in exploring is our need psychologically and spiritually to touch and be touched.

When I was younger, much much younger, I use to talk about the "The warm body principle"; which means 2 warm bodies would rather be together than apart. And that line occasionally worked! But even that is a learned response. When I first started to sleep with others as a young man I couldn't sleep. The presence of the other person(a woman) was disconcerting and I couldn't sleep. Now, after 2 marriages over 25 yrs, I do not like to sleep alone. I need the presence of someone else to truly relax and let go.

After I was divorced the last time, I went a long time alone and I became increasingly lonely so much so I welcomed my cats when they occasionally slept on the bed with me. The occasional hug at work was a blessing.

When I was younger the psychological need for touch was primarily associated with sex, it was about taking much more than giving. But in my work I was also learning about therapeutic touch; the power of touch to comfort and heal in a non sexual way. The giving aspect of touch. They actually did studies on therapeutic touch but the results were inconclusive. This may be true for physical ailments but I think that therapeutic touch may be helpful in some psychological problems though I have no data to support this notion.

Since I entered recovery I have rediscovered touch, particularly non-sexual touch. It was initially about shaking hands and hugs both with men and women. I learned how reconnecting with others was important. It felt great particularly early on in my recovery to shake hands, to give hugs, to get hugs as I was also recovering from the desperate loneliness of active alcoholism. Incredibly, that was almost 5 years ago.

Touch is one of the many ways we connect to each other both physically and spiritually. I think it is also something we need on a regular basis, like air and water. I know that that is true for me. And it is not just about receiving but it is also about giving. Early on in recovery I would force myself, when feeling low, to get up before the meeting and shake the hands of people coming in and give hugs to those who wanted them. I remembered how important it felt to me to be greeted and welcomed when I entered a meeting room and I wanted, needed, to give back as it lifted my spirits as I hope it did theirs.

I am also learning how touch connects me to the people I love. I am talking about non-sexual touching. I am talking about touching that comforts, and connects us to others and expresses to them in non-verbal ways how much they mean to us and how important they are.

As I intimated in a previous blog, I find god in the connections we have to each other and that each of us contains a spark of "the god within". Those connections are both spiritual and physical. When we touch to comfort, to be comforted, to reassure, to be reassured, to express love and to receive it in return we are "touching" god.

So today, reach out, touch someone, Spend some time touching the one you love. Try to transmit to them through touch how important they are to you and how much you care for them. Let your fingers do the talking.

Peace Phillip