Be there now.

Today began with a dull howl of wind beyond the door, window, wall. A miniature spindrift of fresh snow on the porch covering the welcome mat and "snow lying deep and even" (Gray) up the steps toward the drive. I shouldered my yellow-fendered bicycle toward the road and peddled on to work. A crisp line delved in snow and the soft crunch as the wheel parted through... And me, menial Moses.

The peace i knew at five o'clock was shortlived as a wind picked up, snow melt to rain, and rain took another elemental leap to hail. The way the sky falls up here in the northern latitudes is something to behold. Weather has a sinewy force and insistence that reminds me of the cloud forests in Central America, awe-striking and temperamental.

I had an epiphany today as i worked my way through the grocery stores, looking up into ultra-violent light of 200 watt bulbs dancing behind lined bottles of juice and soda. I was resetting the order of products on brazen display to the customer quirking alignment to hold as much as possible. It struck me that evolution and maturation of the self is very misguiding by the precept that it's a forward movement, a development in complexity. It's not so; can often even be the opposite, remember the Devolution?

All these years i've been convinced that i was growing more intelligent and acquiring refined skills and no-how. It surprised me; not only was this far from accurate, i found it a brilliant relief. I'm moving sideways and that's okay. It reminded me of a song, as most everything does. Somewhere in the day i'll pick up a tune that plays softly until i recognize its presence. And further in, it makes another connection. Every song has at least two reasons to be remembered. This morning in the clouds i was singing:

two little feet to get me 'cross the mountain
two little feet to carry me away into the woods
two little feet, big mountain, and a
cloud comin' down cloud comin' down cloud comin' down

I hear the voice of the ancient ones
chanting magic words from a different time
well there is no time there is only this rain
there is no time, that's why I missed my plane

John Muir walked away into the mountains
in his old overcoat a crust of bread in his pocket
we have no knowledge and so we have stuff and
stuff with no knowledge is never enough to get you there
it just won't get you there
-Greg Brown

Over the years i've grown bored with trying to be present all the time. I wanna play inside from time to time. If i had to face the sodapop i deliver everyday without a little imaginative wandering, where would i be? Exactly, with the sodapop. I think that's what age has given me... a quick shot of gerry in the arm, less care to my coffee-stained teeth, the ability to drown out the (micro)manager talking in my ear about product display. Ever wonder of the peace of mind to come as the layers are stripped from us? Will we all become storytellers and daydreamers? Is that what lies beneath?

All i know is, that as i stared into the bright mosaic of brightly tempered cans and bottles i was in at least three other places. I was riding a bicycle with the song.
In Seattle asking Manita "What do people think of when they think of Morocco?" And she was telling me, "Tiles, mosaics... we should go."
I was tightly lacing my new white basketball shoes and shooting hoops with my friend Willie, our plan for the evening.
...Then, i wasn't anywhere at all.
And when i came back i felt better. "Stuff with no knowledge is never enough to get you there..." Oh man, i love that line. I had to think about that for a while...


Sunset in Portland, Maine from a favorite spot...