How to Enter a New Year & New Decade

flock of birds flying over islet
14 January 2020
Greetings, peeps, peoples, friends, neighbors, relatives and all who stumble upon my words,
A new year, a new decade, and endless stellar alignments guide me to contemplation. 
Thus, I think retreat, pull in my radar, retract tentacles, be a turtle. 
No social media.  No mail. No phone.  How delightful.  Off the grid, but never really out of sight.
An island might suffice.  Paddle a canoe into a lagoon, gather seashells and bathe in the rays of the sun.  Now, if you know me at all, you know that is ridiculous.  A classic fantasy.  When you have spotted, pink skin, you just don’t think like that. 
An island comes to mind as remote, isolated, disconnected from everything.
Not really a choice I yearn toward.
I consult the stars, throw the cards, swing the pendulum, toss the I Ching.  It’s quite obvious that an island experience will be a meditation, an enlightenment, a precursor, an exploration into the unknown.
I am my own gypsy fortune teller, an inner guru that chuckles and says, “why not?”  The angels are always with me.
Now, I am home after a fortnight of sizzling weather, steep hills and new night sounds.  Here, with the wood burning stove briskly flaming while snow falls, I must assess extremes.  The stillness at home will bring new haiku, in high contrast to what I wrote on an island.
What I want to say, if our paths crossed, if you listened to my poetry, if we visited on an airplane, if I didn’t know you at all and you’re a friend of a friend, and we connected on social media, any way,
there is a connection for which I am grateful.
The numbers change:  2020.  We all will expand, make choices and have the opportunity for laughter.  Even when there is sadness, there is laughter that fills our lungs and for that moment let’s us breathe.
Bright blessings in all you do.

Just Now

Be here now, Ram Das said.

My license plate holder reads:  “I’d Rather Be Here Now.”

John Muir said to saunter.

Sometimes when I am so in that moment, in the now-ness of it all, that there is only a slash of sunshine and deep woods, I forget to take pictures, photo potential in my pocket, the convenience of a cell phone and not the heavy long lens that hung around my neck for years.

Thus today, a stellar day, a collection of now, as I walked a kinko through Whatcom Falls Park as part of the Haiku Society of America Northwest Regional gathering.  The joy of seeing old friends, of being with poets with nutmeg cookies in the sky words, leaving me wordless and smiling.  I am so blessed by those I know.

Thank you all.

C.J.