Moving Right Along....

It's beginning to look like I'll have to change the name of the blog to 'The Somewhere Else Report'.  My landlord just left with a group of folks who have decided to buy the place.  The young woman who will be taking it is really excited about it, but wants me to stay until next September so she can get it all together with furniture and renovations and so and so....

The question is:  where to next?  The candidate list is small, but broad.

• Schwarzwald-The Black Forest, home of cuckoo clocks and nice mountains that even an old man can get up without a rope.
• Pfaelzerwald: full of wanderways and fairy-tale villages, castles, monasteries, and other antiquities, near the Rhine and the Mosel, familiar, yet still a place not fully explored.
• Right Here.  I like Herford.

Long shots:

• Somewhere in Spain
• The South of France
• Krakow or Warszawa
• Estonia
• One of the German islands in the Baltic

I'm taking suggestions.  Feel free to leave a comment.

Good Morning Herford: Schöne Grüße Aus Pennsylvania

Working from a tablet is fun, but the photos are stuck in the cameras until I get back to home base. I had a great time at Mountain Sky, a music venue and Festplatz in my old neighborhood with my son, daughter, and grandson. My 50th Class Reunion was pleasant. I've had a few good walkabouts and I've learned to play some new videogames from my four year old teacher Gideon.

I'll touch base again after the next great adventure. Until then- keep Steinstrasse safe....

On the Road Again/No Guitar, Dog, or Pickup Truck

l'll be crossing the Atlantic again, flying West to the east coast of the USA.  l missed last year's pilgrimage because of schedule conflicts. This year's trip includes an added treat- my 50th Class Reunion!

A good prep for these things is Social Networking. Find 'em, learn'em, and know which coversations to avoid. After doing my research, food and weather appear to be the safest. I intend to eat a lot. If I keep my mouth full it'll be harder to stick my foot in it.

Jubilation on the Street: Deutschland 7-Brasil 1

I'm up late tonight.  I watched the most amazing football match with the folks at Giovanni's Mona Lisa.  This is the World Cup, 7-1 is unbelievable, and even more unbelievable in the semi-final.  The German offense was quick and clean and accurate and the defense was impenetrable.  The Street, the city, and the entire country is celebrating.  Tomorrow night, the Netherlands go against Argentina to determine the opposition and Sunday, we find out who the new Weltmeister is.  I'm rooting for my adoptive land.

A Sunday Walk

The weather's been really nice here for the last week.  Not too hot, breezes, evening thunderstorms, good for daytime walking around.  Sundays are busy on the paths and trails in this part of the world, especially when the Sun is shining.  Today, the Sun was shining.

I met some people I know, and some I didn't. One married couple pointed me to a stream of ants going back and forth across the walking path.  We watched them together and chatted.  The wife had been born in Berlin and the family migrated down here in the final days of the Second World War to avoid the chaos.  The man survived the Russian liberation of Silesia.  We talked for almost half an hour.  It was pleasant.  And now,  I'm going to sleep.  I'll be back soon, with something to say and nothing to complain about.

Growth in the Gänsemarkt

Things are happening. June will bring the opening of two restaurants and an ice cream shop!
The Hollandschenke is relocating to the former Schwarzer Ritter with the same great food a beer garden!  Welcome "Leib und Seele".

An International menu is coming to the corner formerly occupied by Pinochio. Welcome "Babylon".

And finally, the Christian Bookstore will be an ice cream parlor.

Kudos to the city and the teams who are making my neighborhood a cooler place .

Nothing to Report and Nothing to Complain About

It's been rainingI've got Gore-Tex. - the past few days. Steinstrasse has been gray and damp. I'm always grey, it comes with the turf, but I'm rarely damp, I've got Goretex.

I've been carving. Little people. Two and four inch people. I'm trying to capture the feel of Sunni painting in wood. When I've got enough then I'll try to arrange them like a Haiku. A sestina would be too much work.

Things come easier to the beginner's mind. I'Ve been practicing. Let it rain. My mind's got Gor-Tex.

Conversations on a Country Path (Apologies to Heidigger)

I used to walk here often

I was in love

She was not

Time has passed

On the edge of the mind 

I can still hear her breathing

along with thousands of other breaths

My cosmos

no longer bound by ego

allows me to go back

the path not chosen
the road less travelled
the mind less filled

Good Friday: Reflections

I've always had a reverence for Good Friday.  As kids, we weren't allowed to breathe on this day.  No radio, television, sweets, snacks, just fish and platski (potato pancakes).

I've read all four passions in one sitting on Good Friday.

I've made love in a meadow at the top of a hill on Good Friday.

I've written poetry in the style of Federico Garcia Lorca on Good Friday.

I've walked to the top of the mountain and meditated under a tree on Good Friday.

Today, I've taken a walk, reflected on the nature of death, read from some Buddhists texts, some Christian texts, and the texts of the mystical golden retriever who calls himself Jan Zawadzki when he's a few hours to the east but settles for Zavacki and John when he's elsewhere.

In the tradition of the high Christian Churches, it is the day upon which we reflect on the death of Jesus, the Messiah.  Accordingly, I do reflect on his death, and the deaths of other Buddhas, enlightened ones who allow us to deviate from their path to find our own within the guidelines of leading a good life and finding the strength to teach in the face of critics.

A few days ago, a friend asked if I had read 'The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying'.  I thought that I had and went off to get a copy to ensure I was right.  I wasn't.  I am now.  One of the things I really like about Buddhist belief is its tremendous respect for life and for death.  Death is a mystery, the ultimate adventure, but not one to be sought, only to be found.  Life is a preparation for death which is a preparation for life in the Buddhist tradition.  Heaven or hell are the state of mind you are in when this ultimate reality occurs.  What happens after that is up to you.

In the presence of Easter Rabbits and their colorful eggs, the idea of rebirth is an annual one.  Here, at Steinstrasse 1A, it is a continuous rebirth.  Every morning, I say 'I'm not dead', then wash my face and prepare to die by living my life in the company of everyone I love,  No one is dead to me who has ever touched me as I will never be dead to them.  Even when I die, I live on in them, and when my consciousness is transferred from the realm of death back into a sentient form, they'll come with me.  Whether or not I will be able to access them will depend on the development of my access to the collective unconscious, the wellspring of all knowledge, creativity, and creation.

Happy Easter.

Fog and Impermanence

The fog this morning reminded me of another me.  Like all things, he is gone.  With the exception of the foggy vision in my mind and those of others he touched, no one knows of him.  Remembering his time is not so good for the ego.  He was a handsome lad.  But not so peaceful.  He made the fog in his mind to obscure the fear of failure as well as that of success.  He didn't know that even with fog, the thousand year old moat, the city streets, the people in the invisible houses are still there.

Hasn't Been Much of a Winter

The weather's been extremely mild here.  February, the normally treacherous thing, was a study in temperance.  The temperatures stayed over the freezing mark and averaged early spring numbers.  People insisted on the tables being brought out into the market place and they've been using them.  The Stadtfuehrer reminded me of the lines from Faust about the Easter walk and compared it to our present situation.

If the Sun shines in the Winter, the people of Herford consider it a good enough occasion to sit outside and eat an ice cream.

That anecdote, and a cold that's lingered for weeks are all I've got to say for Winter this year.  There's just about enough material for a Haiku, but it wouldn't be very good.

Winter's flat
the grey reflected by the Winter Sun
ice cream is good.....

While I sit around the cafes reading and drinking coffee,  Russians march into the Crimea, Ukrainians man the barricades, and everyone else beats their drum, hoping to drown out the possibility of yet another clash of ideologies to be paid for with human blood. Where have all the flowers gone?

How'd That Happen?

It's been ten years since I first landed in Herford, NRW, Germany, actually eleven if you count the first visit I made in 2003 as part of an acquisition team looking over the company we eventually made a part of the big thing I used to work for.  I started thinking about it a few weeks ago, when my landlord offered to sell me this apartment.  I thought about the price, the possibilities, the responsibilities, the benefits and concerns and the whole internal conversation gave me a really bad case of wanderlust.

With the exception of my homestead in Mayfield, Pennsylvania, where I lived from birth to 18 and then on again/off again between marriages, university stints, and other transformations, ten years is the maximum I've stayed in any one place, state, job, or condition.  The wheels are rolling, the gears are clacking, zeroes and ones are streaming in my unconscious, but there's a catch, I've grown fond of this place.  It affords me solitude, it serves as a hub for my travels because of its central location in Central Europe, entertainment can easily be found, and it's pretty.  It does lack a zen community, but there's always the internet.

Still, I'm an explorer.  I'm not the kind that roams from coast to coast.  I'm more of a microexplorer.  I like to know all about where I am.  There's still a lot to learn here, but Krakow has been pulling at me, and after my trip to Prague a few months ago and Poznan and Warszawa last year, the Slavic genes are saying 'take me home'.  But, still, I'm content here.  No dog, no wife, no worries, enough wood to carve for the next five years and an infinite supply of electrons to scribble with.  But no canoe, something which can easily be remedied.

Am I talking my way into something, or out of it?

New Year: No Resolutions

I've been writing for about half an hour now, revising, rethinking, rewording.  The outcome is this:

I have nothing to say today, but thank you for listening.