It has been so long since I’ve visited a troutstream, I’ve almost forgotten the wonder of it. So in order to remind myself, I went back to an old post:, exercitatione: As the sun rises the mist morphs from pink to a dull white turning brighter as it moves downstream to the sun. All the shadows are cast parallel to the flow of the river now, making the leaves in the sun glow an iridescent green while the shadowed leaves are a milder, darker tint. The water has been segregated

Today is my oldest son’s birthday. He is 17. He seems to be ok. Not sure how many times I’ve wondered if he or I would make it even this far but today I have realistic hope that he will be a functioning, responsible adult. Someday. Still have miles to go, but I think he’s going to make it. He will need a car to drive, so I’m selling him my toyota landcruiser at half-price. That leaves me looking for a replacement vehicle to be an off-road-worthy, reliable daily driver for som

The definition of “Man” has become awfully ambiguous. Some people claim to be men trapped in women’s bodies; some claim to be women trapped in men’s bodies. Parents fight for their boy’s rights to take part in “girl stuff” and for their girl’s rights to do “boy’s stuff.” People declare themselves to be neutral, bi, queer, homo, hetero, machinist, etc. Also, sometimes others declare a person to be any one of the above, and the subject of the declaration becomes convinced of th

Usually, I would be at church right now, teaching a sunday school lesson, and then attending a worship service. But today, I’m not. Simply did not want to deal with the outside world, however kind and loving the people around me would have been. The loud attacks on senses, the conversation to be made with people just because we are both in the same space, the going over of the same lessons but then songs I’ve never heard before . . . So I sit in my quiet study with acapella h

boy and dad in the air on the wind the very spring of glad fatherly advice, real concern not heeded – all good fun boy will never learn gravity consumes lift earth and cold reality approaching rather swift but no longer attached wings now move with ease leaving birds behind falling through the clouds acceptance in the mind this is boy’s demise flight is not for men dad bought his own lies white caps splash cold water embraces too numb to feel the crash from above again he see

Some days are like roller coasters; some days are like the “It’s a Small World” ride at Disneyworld, or the movie “Groundhog Day.” Like I’m trapped in a room with an annoying loop of some stupid pop song playing. Hit me Baby one more time, one more time, one more time, one more time, noe rmeo mtie. It makes you carazy. And what, pray tell, are we accomplishing? Saving the world? Nah. Too big, too wide, too deep. Save that for the Justice League or those “Avengers” people. Obl

When I was in the bathroom this morning, brushing my teeth and getting ready for work, I discovered this: I couldn’t believe my eyes. How could the woman I love do this? Certainly it wasn’t simple carelessness. . . She must have had a convulsion, or a twitch, like I do when I’m not medicated, or something worse. Or maybe she did it on purpose just to mess with me. After twenty-some-odd years of marriage, perhaps she is finally trying to end me by a disorderly-swab-induced pan

I know a lot of females. I know a lot of males. I know intelligent, sophisticated members of both genders and I know people of both that are dumb as a sack of rocks. So I don’t understand why we still have problems of inequality.  Now I’m not typing this to make points with anyone. I have enough points with those that affect my life routinely and I’m not looking for points from others. I’m not running for any office. . . but I had lunch today with some intelligent females and

To listen, read and write more, and to communicate less words but more meaning. Each year for the past several, I have resolved to speak less but say as much or more. Hopefully I am making progress. Have a good year, however you define that. #parenting #politics #prayer #christian #zen #meditation #newyear #resolution #peace #Depression #Freedom #family #Jesus #Anger

**This is part of a series, beginning with Nativity Walk 1: “Joe, did you hear that?” “Hmm mmm..” “Joe – I heard something. Wake up.” “It’s not even light yet – go back to sleep – we’re fine.” Mary cracked open the door and peered out into the pre-dawn blackness of the roman settlement. She was accustomed to the sounds of horses, goats, chickens, dogs and other domestic animals in Nazareth, but this was different. A growl – a roar even. Something wild. Awake now, Joseph conso

This morning I watched a good friend in law enforcement explain his journey (itineris) thus far through life. He spoke about “losing traction” in some of his efforts, and at long last, graduating from college. I congratulate him and he inspired me to write. We are all on our own journeys, and many have planned itineraries, but as John Steinbeck showed us in his classic book that borrowed a phrase from Robert Burns, our plans often derail. Along with Eric Fromm’s To Have or to

I’m skipping my regular cryptic title because we can’t afford misunderstandings here. I often wonder if Kim Jong Un was abused as a child. Statistics show that many of the “bully” types I mentioned in plebeius have suffered abuse themselves at some point. But I’m not going to waste time with statistics now – they can be bent any direction. Through my career I have represented a child rendered a vegetable by his parents’ shaking him, a father who “disciplined” his daughter by

I think I may have mentioned before that I’m a percussionist. I know that in Pilgrimage IX I spoke about music a little, but not much.  I haven’t played much in years, but it is still in me. I think in these terms still. I listen a certain way because of this. I generally enjoy pianissimo people more than fortissimos. I can really appreciate a political speech or a sermon if the speaker knows how to use dynamics, and when to be stacatto, or maybe most importantly, when to res

Yesterday, I posted a brief suggestion that God does not always answer prayers. (vita continuat) I invited readers to provide their thoughts on point, and no one responded. This reminded me of some of my prayers. Nothing. Silence. I have heard all my life that “God always answers your prayers – He may not give you the answer you want – but He always answers.” I respectfully submit the following dissent, with no disrespect toward God, as He is my Creator and Father regardless.

life goes on. Picking up on the old story, in January of 2004 M & I had two small children and sleep was not a reliable friend to us. People told us back then that it would pass, but when you’re in the shadow of the one cloud in an otherwise blue sky it’s hard to understand that it’s not just a dark day. We were catching sleep when the kids allowed it – C being 3 yrs old and L being just several months old. I don’t know why kids insist on taking turns sleeping when they won’t

Flyfishing is as much art as sport. And it’s not even my art so much as the joy of taking my place and fading into the art all around me when I’m doing it right. If you wade into the Little Red River in Arkansas at just the right time, day, and season, you can find a mist over the water, which is reflecting the color of the leaves and the sounds of geese splashing and telling one another of a hole with food in it. After you do it a few times, you learn to recognize the correc

Upon returning from Belize, I settled into the mundane – work, home, church, repeat. My journal reflects an intended effort to invest more deliberately into marriage, fatherhood, faith and mission, but I can’t say whether I made progress in this effort or not, or how to measure it if I did. Pretty soon most of a year had passed and in September, C broke his little leg while climbing on the swing in the back yard. Of course this was a catastrophe for new parents, and being in

I’ve gotten ahead of myself with that last entry, and in my effort to tell a professional story, I missed the personal. At least now I’ve constructed the context into which the following falls: I never really wanted to marry. Just wasn’t interested. Until M. (aptus) She and I, initially, weren’t interested in having kids. We agreed, “We’re fine as just us.” Honestly, she graduated past that before I did. She was ready to start a family while I was still pushing for us to do s