Happy new year 2009

May Joy befriend you. May Happiness and good Health never leave your company. May Success visit you on a daily basis. May you be in peace with yourself. May you be in harmony with all those who are close to you. May you laugh, dance, travel, and see all the beauty that is there to see.

Be well and live like you mean it, and don't hesitate to listen to your heart.

Chapter 9 is ready...

I think. Anyway, I've been sitting for so long my behind hurts, and I am not a cry baby -even if the record points to the contrary. Just remember that 'Movement is good,' has always been my motto, which should count for something -right?

Otherwise, time is clicking ever so reliably, moving us to 2009 and on. Events shall unfold, and life will take its course, for each and every one of us in the most suitable way -I am talking Karmically here.

So be well and be your best in whatever it is you are lost in.

Swimming, swimming toward a distant shore

Post-Christmas...

introspective meanderings lead me to wonder what, how and where, so that all day long, questions arise to heavenly heights, following a curvilinear arc, like the connected beads of a prayer bracelet thrown as if a gift to the skies, bound by its trajectory, to meet whatever answers are moving across the canvas of my mental framing tendencies, leaving me with nothing more to sink my teeth on than unreachable fluffy clouds, with their endless interpretative options.

Supposedly, this is a huge day for the retail industry. Alas, it shall be without me, for I do not plan on shopping, and how could I when my mind is completely absorbed in weighing this against that, as I trudge forth seeking a way out of this glorious feast of existential conundrums.

What. How. And Where... The dance goes on, and I will not let go, for as the wise teacher might have said, "Every problem has a hundred and one solutions. Every solution is an entry gate to a bridge build over the waters of opportunity. Who and where you are define where you stand. As for where you're heading, that is mere speculation until choice leads to action, which in its turn shall lead to transformation."

The surfer is dormant and lost in a sea of uncertainty. Meanwhile, life goes on, generously extending invitation, after invitation, to catch a ride and join the dance of creation as it goes from this to that, to this to that, undoing and doing, giving and taking, holding and surrendering, all at once, and for as long as time can go on flowing.

Be well and remember that to worry is to resist life. Live and make as many mistakes as you can make, so that when you reach your furthest tomorrows you shall have arrived leavened and unburdened by the gloomy shadow of regret.

Dormant surfer

Credit card offers...

keep on reaching me despite this business of collapsing financial institutions who, no matter what happens in Wall Street, go on wheeling and dealing, concocting sweet-looking stratagems to get my attention, scheming to entice me in making that call, you know the one... with that 800 number going all the way to some call center in India, and I say why not? 35,000 miles, double miles for your dollars, and who cares about the fine print, plus, there is so much to read and so little time.

And then there is that snow blown around, covering the streets, forming mounds, dunes and hillocks, sticking to the bark of trees, stifling the possibility of colorful happenings, a messy things indeed, so white, so blend, so overwhelming, tending to weigh so heavily on the soul -mine at least.

I need color. I need sunlight. But carbon emissions are still too high and the planet is an easily thrown out of balance biosphere. Storms, blizzards, hurricanes, tornadoes and tsunamis, and I am pretty sure my car and yours have something to do with it...

Call it a hunch, call it what you want, and maybe I've been listening to too much radical banter. I don't know anymore.

Be well and have a wonderful day, week, month, trimester and year.

Trapped in a white canvas of soft snow and cold winds

Christams season...

is upon us, and I was writing something about it, having to do with how this season is handled so differently from home to home, from the decorations to the meal, having guests, being alone, having the means and being on food stamps, having a Menorah, or Buddha next to the tree, too many gifts or too few, home made dishes, or yams straight out of the can and mashed potatoes from a box, dry turkey or grandma's recipe followed to perfection, too much food, or a salad because you're on a diet, or maybe you're vegetarian, or even Vegan, Cabernet or cherry wine, Maybe Champagne, or just children crying and parents running around, the whole family together, for better or for worst, people who miss each other, and people who can stand each other, Utopian activists, moderate liberals and hardcore conservatives, and why not throw in a few evangelical fundamentalists to make it even more interesting, and you know that there isn't anything like a good dose of genuine zeal to take your party to the next level, then, there might be singing and laughter, Kids being kids, adults doing their grown-up socializing thing, renditions of 'Silent night,' relatives arguing and spilling their hearts out at the table, all taking place on a wonderful evening spent among great friends and loved ones, or one that feels more like Lent, or maybe you're just depressed and all alone, no one to share this moment with, just you and a box of walls...

Then there are the special cases, and where should I begin, so I'll pick one as randomly as I can and go from there, for example, the soldier stationed who knows where, because that's what he signed up for, whether he likes it or not. There is also, the orphans, the homeless, the junkies, the inmates, lonely emigrants who buy phone cards to call their families back home, old folks in nursing homes, old folks forgotten in the moldiness of their dwellings, the mentally impaired, the financially impaired, the sick, the emotionally exhausted, the prostitutes, tired single parents, enslaved children, enslaved women, people with broken heart, people with secret affairs, people with secrets period, people with too much guilt, lovers who can't be together, those who lost their jobs, those who lost too much to believe in Christmas... So many cases, so many factors to consider, where does one start, and where does one finish, and in the end, does it really matter?

Anyway, what I initially wrote was lost, so these few lines shall do, because you see, I've already been in front of this screen for way too long, and although it is hellishly cold out there -30 degrees Fahrenheit, which also happens to be -34.4 degrees Celsius, in case you were wondering, I can not wait to get out of here.


Be well, I wish you all a happy holiday -even if you live next to palm trees.

Joyeux Noel.

Another chapter revised...

Chapter 8, which comes after 7, has been posted in 'Lost Berber Surfer.' I am thinking about changing my name, to the old nickname, more as a turning point than anything else, the beginning of a new chapter, the first step into a new cycle, a revolution of the soul, a liberation of the spirit, a statement of intent in my all consuming pursuit of happiness. But, I am still thinking about it...

So be well and be true to your heart's deepest longings.

A name about to change for the better

Airplane tickets...

are getting me all moody... So many sites to search with, and thus far, not much has been achieved, except if we consider the waste of time accumulated since I started looking. I haven't touched 'Cursed in Casablanca' for days now -talk about commitment and steadiness of resolve. Ha!

Otherwise, this morning's yoga class went well. It is my last this year, which reminds that I was intending on extending my best wishes to all those who read this blog. Enjoy the holidays. May you have all the good things that life has to offer.

Be well and kind.

A frustrated traveler on hold

A snowstorm...

is sweeping through the Midwest, and Madison puts on its white coat. Schools are closed, and the roads are interestingly challenging. A lot of people chose to stay home, but there are others, who, like myself, couldn't wait to get out and check what all this is all about...

Every snowstorm I go for a drive, with a little voice inside of me screaming, 'Yeeeha!' I have to admit that I am an adrenaline junkie, and have been so for so long I am not even sure when the first hit was ingested. I know for sure that it wasn't when I took off on my first wave, or even when I paddled for the first time. No, it was before that, way before that, and maybe even before the first broken law, the first secret, the first date, the first tryst, the first fistfight, the first lie, the first curse, the first kiss, the first love, the first fall, the first escape from home, the first forbidden book, the first breath....

Anyway, I drove, took pictures, parked by Borders -my ex-favorite establishment, caught a bus -number 37, met some interesting folks heading to works, who thought this was nothing, and kept on telling me, "You should go outside Madison, then you'll see how messy it could get." One of them, who lives in a farm and works at the University, bought snowshoes, the kind that used to look like a tennis racket way back then but don't anymore, and is eager to use them tomorrow. Another, some Professor, originally from Argentina said he's lived here for over 20 years and still likes it. And another, from Alaska, was really happy to be in such a lovely climate.

Meanwhile, I keep on singing my magic mantra, just to myself, 'One day, one day, I'll have the sand, I'll have the waves, I'll have the sun and a beach without parking meters, I'll have good neighbors and happy surfers to share the ocean with. One day, one day, the world will go back to normal. One day, one day, the world will go back to beautiful and sometimes perfect.' I know... It's a long mantra, but that's okay, because it comes from the heart, and there is nothing made up, or forced about it.

Otherwise, Burger King is launching a body spray -I kid you not; I'm not too sure about Obama's cabinet choices; and on Facebook, some people are having fun in Miami, and there are pictures to prove it; Condolences to Saida who lost her mother; and, finally the planet is whirling, spinning and traveling -no one who knows where, but it's sure heading there.

Be well and remember how small and how large you actually are -approximately somewhere between nothing and everything.


A speck, a universe.

P.S: Remember that today is a very special day. It is a day of great happenings and transformation. We will be tried, in more than one way. So, I suggest moderation, patience, and understanding, and please, please, please, this is not the time for rocking boats. Then again, you're your own captain, so do as you will, and don't say you weren't warned. Safe journeys to all.

Chapter 6...

is ready and available to read in 'lost berber surfer.' If you recall, I posted chapter 7 first, now if you want to follow the story as I would tell it, Chapter 6 comes before 7. But that isn't too critical. So do as you wish.

Be well and smile for the sake of smiling.

A grin from me to you

The mythical snake...

coils itself and swallows its own tail, joining beginning to end, closing a cycle that goes around a loop to find both closure and renewal. Over and over again, energy is expressed, becoming matter, becoming energy. This is the dance of Yin and Yang, where two, which are actually one and the same, in their spiraling, appear as a third, that is neither one nor the other, but a blend of the two, at times this, and at others that, as if shape-shifting between two lists of irreconcilable dichotomies...

So, and as would say my Piscean friend, a fish chases another, and in the process chases itself. The opposition is mere illusion, and as for the dichotomies, they're nothing more than the flip sides of a single coin.

Yet, I stand on my ground of solid forms, keenly aware that while a rock, or a shoe, if thrown at someone, will probably hurt more than sand, sand can be much more abrasive and intrusive on the long run -and if you don't believe me, try a little stroll through some arid stretch of desert. The physical world is adamant on being inflexible. It takes sides, and as long as we are in it, of it, with it, chances are will have very little choice in this matter. Choices shall be made, and opposition shall arise.

Hopefully, we'll grow in the process, learn some mind-blowing lesson of immense value, reach Siddhartha's enlightenment, rise above this all-encompassing sphere of illusions... or maybe not. At this point, and from my vintage point, I can only speculate.

Be well, and if you feel a bit lost, try to figure out which way is East.

Lost somewhere between East and West, North and South, I remain

To do lists...

We all have them, right? Mine is so long and so eclectic, I rarely look at it anymore. Unless something leading to something else, leads me to remember a certain item on that ten feet long scroll of a poorly-attended-to plan. And I say, "Funny that you mention it, but I've always wanted to..."

Suddenly, and some times not so suddenly, I recall that there is this 'thing' that could be taken care of, easily, if I just give it a little time. Although, and as you probably know, time is extremely precious, especially to those who have a knack for squandering it , with great determination should I add.

Notwithstanding, this finely tuned Universe we happen to be lost in has unavoidable rules that keep it on its course towards... towards, well you know where. Anyway, one of these rules has to do with the spirit of bartering, and goes something like this, 'Nothing comes out of nothing, so if you plan on receiving anything, you better make sure you're giving something in exchange, id est, time.

Which brings me back to this morning, where, hm hm, I've gone ahead, putting both effort and time on the barterer's table, and figured out what progression charts mean, and how they're supposed to be read -to a certain extent, and to my own ability, which isn't much to brag about... yet, I am bragging.

Finally, and in case you ever wondered, cows do get easily bored, and, shoes have been used to whack naughty children, and even adults, for as long as there has been shoes -not that I am supporting the practice.

Be well an don't forget to stretch your spine every now and then.

Completely out of steam

Cursed in Casablanca...

is the name of the novel I am trying to give birth to -it is decided, at least for now. And by the way, I've just posted chapter 7, skipping chapter 6, which is like dancing, you know.. you improvise and try to be as flexible as your mind allows.

Remember the key in dancing is to relax, and, let go of your expectations. Spontaneity is the magic word we're looking for here, but then again, don't push it so far that you end up losing your cool, unless, of course, it is for the sake of learning a new step.

Otherwise, flexibility is a good attribute to carry along in one's journey. Although, I am compelled to ask the following questions: How far can flexibility take us in this physical world where one has to stand somewhere -eventually? And most importantly, can we in this world of dichotomies avoid making a choice at the expanse of another? Can we be both a morning person and a late-sleeper? Can we be altruistic and, at the same time, selfish? Can we be loving and uncaring?

I doubt that the answer is yes... But what do you think?

Born with a bag full of questions

Driver's rights...

are denied to women in Saudi Arabia -go figure. Eighteen years ago, to the date, some Saudi women took it upon themselves to fix this odd wrong. They were chastised, lost their jobs, suffered much more than that. Obviously, they immediately became underground heroines. Today, I salute their courage and shake my head in utter disbelief to how blind some of us can be.

Otherwise, all is fine on this blue planet of ours, especially now that some researchers have discovered that the root of most of our financial woes, the global economic crisis included, are due to the greedy disposition attached to a small section of our caveman part of the brain, and while this is news to me, it appears that the casino industry has been using this weakness of ours to rake big money for over a century now. This bait-dangling-meant-to-get-you technique is by the way, now that I think about it, used widely and wherever sales are the name of the game, and if you require proof... check Whole Foods, and their evil sample trays.

Finally, apparently Dubai has a refrigerated beach -you know... to keep its frequenting clientele's feet cool.

Be well, and laugh as loudly as you can -when it comes to it, very little is worth fussing over.

P.S: December 21, 2008 is a special Summer solstice day, the Sun, (representing your personality, spirit...) will conjunct Pluto, (representing great transformation, rebirth, change, regeneration...) This is arrangement will bring about great intensity. Forget about common sense -you won't find it. The power of individuality shall not go unanswered. Change will occur. I suggest that you start waxing your boards and get ready for the ride.

By the way...

If anyone is wondering how to get to the 'Lost berber surfer' thing where I've been pasting chapters of some story I happen to be working on, well, wonder no more.

All you need to do is click on 'view my complete profile,' when visiting the main blog page. Then once on the profile page, if you scroll down, you'll find links to both blogs...

Otherwise, I'll eventually put the whole thing on the website -but that is a long ways from now.

About this novel I am working on... I am still trying to pick a title, and until I do come up with something suitable, I'll just go on calling it 'Story.' Although, I've been considering 'Cursed in Casablanca.' It sounds pretty intriguing -I think. Plus, the story is about a curse, and, Casablanca.

I have to admit that Story, or 'Cursed in Casablanca,'is an odd one to put out there, because there is too much of myself in it. It was the first novel-size story to come out of me. I think I was trying to figure myself out, while working on it, more than anything else.

I remember writing the bulk of it, a rough version of it -at least, from beginning to end, give and take a few large missing segments, about eight years ago. Most of it was hand-written, a couple hundred of pages unnumbered and all over the place, a messy thing to revisit... Not only that, but this draft of a novel happened to spawn a shorter story about a nun, who instead of being just a prop in the background, insists on taking claim of center stage -so much for modesty.

Otherwise, I am swept by the leading planetary energies as they move from one interesting configuration to the next. Yes, we're all heading towards a sea of change, but, still... And honestly, I find it really hard to stay centered, which I guess might just be because I've been so for off center for quite some time.

I know how I am and how I function. Yet, I keep on putting myself in situations that are completely against my nature. My choices often seem quite counter-indicated for my own well-being. So, why is it that I do what I do? Why do I agree to go against my best judgment and intuition, over and over, and especially, in matters that really, really, matter? Its almost like I'm wrestling myself in the name of peace and happiness -go figure.

And that is that, except if you want to talk about Obama's cabinet in the making, Illinois governorship, shoes thrown at the President in Iraq, Obama soda cans in France, the economy, the weather -which is brutally cold here...

So, be well and try to live one moment at a time, and if you can tango with grace and passion through the whole darn thing.

Sitting on a bed of rusty nails -and I'm no fakir by the way

Sister Marie-Francoise...

introduced in chapter 5 of the story that is presently simmering in my cooking cauldran of tales, is one of the main characters around whom the world shall dance... As for what shall come, I truly stand clueless. But worry not, for stories write themselves in the end. So, let us see where what's been thrown together is going to lead us from now on.

Be well, and if you have time let me know what you think...

Awaiting feed-back, I dance in the dark

Experiments...

I've been considering an idea having to do with blogging and the novel I am currently working with at the moment, which actually is two separate stories that seem to be heading for a collision, a merger of sorts.

I am intending on publishing this story, bit by bit, as I progress, and more often than not digress, in a different blog, which goes by the name, 'Lost berber surfer.' Truth is I've already pasted in the most-likely-to-be first four chapters.

Otherwise, the world is just as it should, full of surprises, mostly enjoyable, especially when the gods are being playfully inspired. By the way, wasn't Friday a delightful drop into the unexpected?

At any rate, I wish you a wonderful week. May you enter and exit it from its brightest side.

Riding the inspiration wave, I throw my hand up in the air and scream out in total delight.

Happiness...

when it comes to it, is a also a neuro-chemical reaction, a bunch of neuro-transmitters fired up, serotonin, dopamine and all sorts of endorphins having a good time inside the fine circuitry of your brain. Scientists today are discovering, redundantly, that happiness, as opposed to that other state that is generally described as depression, can be attained by doing, making stuff with one's hands, being creative, being involved in something fun, you know... like a child playing with scissors -which some parents might consider a dangerous activity, and since I do not want to digress here, I'll just nod and go back to the main issue.

Zen Bouddhism, Shintoism, Tantra, Shamanics, and many other spiritual paths agree that being completely involved in the moment is an intrinsic aspect in one's awakening. So how does one go about being completely involved in the moment?

Many crowd-pulling philosophies prescribe, acceptance of the now and here, a willingness to be fully present, even through the most mundane of activities. Training to reach this state of conscious being includes, among many other eccentricities, learning meditation, be it seated, walking, archery, running, whirling, dancing...

Of course, this approach can be expanded, and has been, to doing the dishes, tilling the fields, digging a fence, gardening, knitting, quilting, cooking, painting, in fact, anything that can be done, with passion, for long enough, involving making something that is worth making. No wonder I am seeing, (in these times of unfulfilling, and almost, soulless working conditions, of dead-end careers, of great doubts,) more crafts being made and sold than I could ever recall.

Happiness is a marvelous garden with as many entry gates as there are human souls. Only your feet can get there. And then once, you're there, Only your hands can touch what treasures are in it. Only your eyes can... you get the jest. And just to stay in this track of new-aggie imagery, for I cannot resist the temptation, I'll add this last cliché, which may I indicate is a favorite of mine: What triggers the perfect natural high in you is a unique alchemical reaction. It is yours to discover, yours to allow. The paths do not have to be the same for everyone, in fact, they cannot be the same. And so what works for me, may not be what you need.

Long ago, I eagerly accepted Shintoism as a viable template for a spiritual path I could trace. Then came surfing, and surfing was the very medium in which I was destined to meet myself, the serum that would allow me to rise above the thick physicality of life, get a glimpse of how everything is, beyond the chatter of words, clouding doctrines, and all the limited views set by our kind.

Surfing opens the mind, there is no other way to describe it. Yet, I do not believe that it is the one and only solution. Well, for me, it is. As for the rest of creation, we are as unique as snowflakes and seashells are. As you can see, this morning, I am into analogies like Pooh bear is into honey jars. What was I talking about again?

Oh, I remember. So be well, and if you're feeling in a bit of a funk, find yourself a hobby, do something you really like, or, I don't know, make or adopt a child if that is what you fancy -and that would probably work, because kids know how to keep grown-ups busy. Now, if you can't figure out a good hobby for yourself, try this one: Find yourself a nice cozy place where you can sit and ponder a big question, and I promise you it won't take long in this particular case, then, strike your favorite pensive pose, and, think what would I be doing if I knew that this was my final day on earth, among those I love, and let's not forget, those I can't stand. Just do that, because, and I am sorry to head down this downing slope of thoughts, there is no guarantee that this isn't our last day on earth. Now, if you happen to still be here tomorrow, I'd say, just do same thing again -Who knows you might just be on the right track?

Now enjoy the rest of your day, as far as I am concerned, I'll be heading to the Psychic fair -yes, you read it correctly, it isn't a typo... And no need to judge, I'm running out of material.

Lessons...

using that word in the previous blog, as I was describing a certain belief having to do with learning from the challenges that each lifetime offers us, made me think of another word, one that has to do with a lesson I have not been able to get past thus far...

'And what lesson might that be?' I hear someone with a curious disposition ask. Well this one has to do with reciprocity, which happens to be an undeniable principle governing this universe of ours, and which implies that whatever you offer you shall get back, or, that whichever way you meet life will be the way in which life presents itself to you.

Thus, showing receptivity makes the whole world more receptive to you. Kindness rewards you with kindness, and acceptance of what is out there is met with acceptance of what it is you truly desire within. Sounds simple, right? Unfortunately, in my case, this simple, almost Pavlovian, principle remains highly elusive.

Now, don't misunderstand me here, I can be extremely accepting, flexible, easy-going, kind, etc... but bring my mother to the equation, and I just fail in my endeavor at being a better man. Over and over, something happens, in a split second, and I become the most selfish and heartless of creatures you could ever come across.

Some have advised me to do Regression, others therapy, or even a combo of both. Supposedly, Someone out there is just waiting for me to show up to deliver me from the error of my ways. Quite possible, wouldn't you say? Except and as I often mention, I am a born skeptic, and let me tell you this, whatever you heard about skeptics, no matter how improbable it may seem, it is absolutely true.

Anyway, all this writing about this mother-son issue of mine had me start off on a tangent... but, I'll save that for later.

Until then, be well,

wondering if you've noticed how much energy there is out there.

Minneapolis...

is a city I lived in for exactly a year. It was a time of great tensions, and it felt as if I was standing on a bed of hot coils. It was a time of many questions screaming for answers, and also a time that inspired a short story I, incidentally, named after the place itself.

I've gone ahead and added 'Minneapolis' to the stories available in reehtales.com. Yes, another one, but don't think that I am being creative. Not at all, I am merely revisiting what's been done a while ago.

Be well, and follow your heart -it is really, really, worth it.

Yours -Productively procrastinating,

Strings...

plucked, a guitar held, and words flowing. It's a song about love, love lost, love beyond words, love above all else, and the lover sings, and the guitar, the guitar follows... A dream is made into words, lyrics that flow, gather and become an expression of love, of passion, unrestrained, unhinged, and I, I, I feel it deep, deep inside what I call my heart.

Meanwhile, a couple of questions were awaiting, and they went like this: How can I dream like I mean it? How could I ever have all, or merely a piece, of that which I crave, when it is becoming so very clear to me that what I truly yearn for may forever be just out of reach?

I sat, bathing in the rhythms of Flamenco, and thought and thought, and although I know that no answer was necessary in this case, I couldn't resist the temptation to follow suit and seek my own version of a truth. But, before I speak of my own views, I'll take a detour and visit that of others...

And so, there are some who believe, and I'll be succinct here, that we are Spiritual beings, experiencing life, over and over, in a physical way as a means to learn, evolve, and move toward a certain Greatness of Spirit that is inherent in our own Divine Source.

Thus we are born, cycle after cycle, with the most appropriate challenges, desires, fears, weaknesses and dreams, in order for us to learn the lesson(s) that is/are ours to learn in a given lifetime. Layer after layer, we shed the negative, the restrictive, the constrictive, and embrace love, selflessness, compassion, kindness -if you are interested in finding out more, I invite you to google, for example, 'Allan Kardec.'

As for myself, I am, unfortunately, a born skeptic, a part-time seeker of spiritual truths at best. What I know is that I do not know. Yet, what I believe is grand and limitless, and it's been this way as far as I can remember. Yes, I've learned a couple things here and there, mostly while I was surfing. I've traveled, shedding volumes worth of confining skin as I went. I've met pain, suffering, hopelessness. I've been touched by runaway slaves, refugees, children with machine guns too high to distinguish between what is right and what is oh so wrong, inspired nuns worth a hundred mercenaries, beautiful souls shining at the heart of ugliness, warm hearts doing their best against the most overwhelming of odds. I've met death, three times, and relinquished my desire to hang on to life, too easily, that many times.

But, I am still the same. The same child with dreams so elaborate it would take Hollywood's, or maybe Bollywood's, best production team to recreate even one scene. And so, I dream with the same dogged intensity, because doing otherwise simply wouldn't cut it. The dream is part of who I am. It doesn't matter if it is realized or not -I think. What truly matters is truthfulness to what is inside, that dream we've been carrying, that passion we've feeling, that story we've been living for. What truly matters is the journey and how we embrace it, because without it, the destination isn't really worth much.

But then again, I might just be a fool, lost in his own dreams, someone you really should be paying too much attention to...

Gratefully inspired by the exchange.

Tomorrow...

the Moon will be full and ripe in Gemini. Not only that, but there will be two Grand Squares in mutable signs, (Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius and Pisces.) 'What is he talking about now?' I hear a few of you, out there, muttering. Truth is, I really don't have a clue.

All I know is that tomorrow is about energy moving. There is great power in the air, and Uranus will not go unanswered. Change is coming, whether we like it or not. There is tension flowing through the fabric of all things, and if you doubt it, check with the Sun and Mars.

Come Friday, take it easy, and give yourself time. What you give shall come back, so just in case, remember to be extra nice. Wake up a little earlier, and move slowly, and if not, at least carefully. Otherwise, have a great Friday. I'll see you at the other side of the rainbow.

As far as I am concerned, I'll drop my sails, fold them nicely, and then fasten myself securely with patience.

Sailing through life, we learn.

P.S: The Hand of Fatma, (see photo,) has been used as a protective image for thousands of years.

Green eyes...

has, finally, been added to the website -www.reehtales.com, following a couple of unsuccessful attempts... and that is that.

Be well, dream like you mean it, and let me hear from you.

A busy dreamer

Wednesdays...

are usually my favorite days of the week, on par with Mondays that is. Now, gazing out the window, I notice the bright blueness of a sunny day -who cares if it's cold? I guess those who can't afford warm clothes, but that's another story all together, wouldn't you say?

Through the chatter, I swim, past an encore of snowfall records, Federal bail-out of the auto industry, with something about a Car Czar, debates about restructuring, more on the recession, foreclosures here and there, Illinois governor's arrest, fraud investigation, a man-in-charge trying to get more than he deserves, bleep-full recorded conversations, the possibility of impeachment, major drama in the Senate House, O'reilly and his book, Secretary of State C. Rice heading back to Stanford, talking about how great a job her team has done for the past eight years serving the country, talking about the future, about the Palestinian state as if anything was achieved, but enough with her already, for there is also the 60th anniversary of the Human Rights Declaration celebrated somewhere - I suppose, and lets not look at the mess in Greece, the disappointments of the Middle East, Sudan's Darfur, the Somalian high seas, Zimbabwe, the fence at the border down south, Mexico's drug smuggling machine and its wide death trails...

Beyond, the stars say there is friction in the air, challenging configurations, and the Moon is in Taurus, a bit on the edge, hoofs thudding at the ground, steam coming out of its snout, so take a deep breath, and embrace serenity if you can. Friday looks even worse, with two grand squares and all, definitely not a good time to get too excited.

Closer at home, well, I've gone through one of my short stories, trimmed it here, polished it there... I think it is ready to be added to www.reehtales.com. The story's name is 'Green eyes.' I wrote it a long time ago, thinking of people I knew and hadn't seen for years. Anyway, 'Green eyes' will be accessible through the Stories page. Just go to short stories and click on... well, you know.

Now, it's time for me to get back to messing with the next tale. Be well and have a glorious Wednesday.

Fear of change...

hinders transformation. It's a bit like cooking over very low heat, when what you actually need is a blazing flame. I love the ocean, ache for its sound, mystery within unfathomable depths of blueness, the scent of salt, of life given and taken, energy released, abundance and uncontainable vastness bound into one, within the renderings of my own fantasies. Yet, I hesitate, go half way out, when a full step is demanded, knowing very well that destiny will not accept less than complete abandon. I stall, I am afraid of losing more than I willing to gamble.

I've been eating out of Illusion's generous hand. I've been listening to its comforting promises... The poison has taken root, and I've become entangled in the sweetness of a wicked dream. For too long, have I been indulgent in safety's palace.

But in the depths of apathy, a flame continues to resist, pushing for realization, fulfillment and awakening, for rising above all lies and chimeras, for laughing at Temptation's golden face. It shouts, 'What are you but Spirit?' It sings, 'Awaken, awaken, and to your full potential rise.' 'No chains shall hold you but those of your own making, for you are Spirit, for you are light born within and out of Light.' And the flame burns and burns. Layer after layer, it consumes, waiting for you to open your heart and say, 'Yes.'

Fear of change might hold you down, keep you from rejoining that very light that is not only you but is also burning for you, seeking to dispel all of darkness, shadow by shadow. Yet, in the end the choice will always be yours. So say yes, and yes and yes. Then light shall transcend darkness, and darkness shall embrace light.

A note to self.

Uncomfortably cold...

pressing my almost-frozen hands deep inside pockets which, among other less important qualities, are lacking in warmth, I walk through streets thickly filled with a mist of dancing snow. Body bent, eyes staring low, I swim through this inescapably chilling whiteness... Where to, I forgot. Yet the path is traced and the steps are made. How far will I get? And for what purpose? These will remain questions I cannot answer. On one hand, there is home and the fireplace. On the other, there is a body aching to feel and experience. And I guess the body always wins, its call, after all, continues to be too strong to ever be denied. 'Take me to the edge of the abyss,' it calls out. 'Take me beyond what you deem the limit of all possibilities,' it demands. And what am I but a weak link in this chain of command, stretching from here to who knows where?

They say, 'The young is restless.' So I ask, 'Will I ever grow old?' And the answer comes back, echo of forgotten echoes, 'Why the haste? It all shall come in due time. One step after the other, the path is walked, from beginning to end, whether you walk or run. So enjoy the journey, and if you stumble, fall and bruise your shins, or knees, do not wallow on your fate for too long, instead, stand up, dust yourself, smile, or even grin, for there is still much, yes, much more to come.'

So I press on, through snow and chill, always forward, always in a circle, from cycle to cycle, of which I remain the center, as well as the furthest perimeter. And ask as I may, the only answer I get is nothing more but an echo of forgotten echoes.

Moving, I am.

P.S: There are a few books, I've been reading lately and which I do not mind recommending, one of which isn't published yet, and so will have to wait on that, but the others, I can surely mention here: Death with Interruption -by Jose Saramago (and how could I resist?) Liberty -by Garrison Keiler... and I'll save the rest for next time.

Negativity...

settled in, with the whiteness of things, cold air, dry skin, frost on the windshield, sweaters, insulated coats, snow boots, memories of sunnier places, of swim trunks, the scent of salt, shifting sands, lazy cloudless days, and music playing in my head, guitars and palms clapping filling the spaces in unison, bare feet swept by the beat, eyes connecting, worlds merging, born between a smile and a sigh, magic and sensuousness in every gesture, in every pause, Beauty permeating my vision as far as the horizon can get...

The trees have gone naked, and the streets are barely alive, NPR says that happiness is contagious, far more than sadness could ever be. But I ask you this, which one is deeper? Which one contains the seed for growth? We make choices everyday -how do we know what is best for us in the long run?

Questions, questions, too many questions, I'll blame it on today's Piscean Moon, and I'll turn up the volume to better drawn in spark-causing Tocadas, irrestible Palmas e Zapateados, Palo Seco e con Guitarra, the rhythm of Rumba, music that flows so naturally in my blood, in every double helix of DNA that somehow make me me, and I'll dance and I'll dance...

Baila, Baila, until your legs say, 'Wow, I really want to but I just can't, well, maybe, just one more, just one more.'

A huge fan of Ojos de brujo -my favorite band out of Barcelona.

Experts...

about everything, and anything abound. Forgive me if I doubt that most of this quasi-knowledge that is generated, all over the spectrum of things, is actually worth much. What happened to common sense? And why don't we know a quack when we come across one?

Anyway, in higher spheres, the moon is too influential at the moment, but that is about to change. Watch out for Pluto. Watch out for Uranus. Watch out for Mars... Not that any of it should freak you out.

As far as I am concerned, it is as within, as without; as inside, as outside; so know thy self, and the planets will follow.

A novel is out, and another is impatiently waiting, so forgive me if I just wrap it up here, and, wish you a great Thursday evening.

Be well -seriously.

Bus 15...

was exceptionally enjoyable today, and in the least expected of ways. Ours is a farcical play, and the gods are tricksters at heart. Foolish are those who make mountains out of ant hills. In the end, all castles become ruins. They crumble under their own grandeur. Then nature is there to reclaims it all.

At best, we're like children building worlds, too temporal, or should I say finite, to last, out of wet sand, in a beach of our making, too close to the ocean's leveling touch. The difference however is that we, contrarily to children, take ourselves seriously, too seriously, way too seriously... So the question is why, oh why, are we perplexed when Pain finds in us the most pleasant of companies.

Be well and remember to dream the impossible -who knows, you might be in for a surprise.

Bound to catch bus 15.

Lots of work...

I've at it all day long, click, click, click, and some more, and here we are. Let me rejoice, let me stretch. My work is done for the day, and novel number 2 is available on my website, www.reehtales.com.

I give myself a tap on the shoulder, for this is a heavy load that is no longer on the writer's shoulder. Free at last. Well, I found a typo and I'll have to change the PDF... But let us not be sticklers. No, no, no. Not today, I don't get paid well enough for that.

So there you have it, from the horse's mouth, You and You is out, after some five years, of sitting, waiting, change after change, major ones too, revision after revision, until I could see it no more, until I got to hate the idea of it...

But that is past, and the past is past. Today, we triumph over the spirit of unfinished things, and the horizon is all about new adventures and explorations to be had, unless one considers novel 3, 4 and 5 and 6, but that is later, not today, cause I am simply done. Done. Done. And that is that...

Be well.

Period