fresh spring rains
glistening sunlight
bees hidden
An afternoon haiku
Blog
What makes a good life?
This TED Talk was just sent to me: What makes a good life? Lessons from the longest study on happiness | Robert Waldinger. I’ve seen this video before and greatly appreciate the insights brought to light.
Here’s the basic framework. Harvard started a study around 80 years ago looking at what makes us happy and healthy in life. Having a study like this last this long is very significant. Dr. Waldinger is the 4th director of this study. It gives us a rare glimpse into positive living, one that hasn’t existed before.
In my youth, I believed, like so others that wealth and fame were the keys to an awesome life. There are many studies showing that a majority of people think the same. Turns out, that’s wrong.
“Good relationships keep us happier and healthier”. Social connection is life-giving, loneliness kills. This isn’t the number of friends, etc, but the quality. Also, living in conflict is destructive. The people who were the most satisfied at age 50 have the best health in their 80s. And good relationships are not only good for our bodies but also our minds. Ultimately, having people in your life that you KNOW have your back, that will be there when the times go bad, this is what will make your life satisfying.
I’m glad to have the benefit of the wisdom from this study without having to have lived a full lifetime, to use this knowledge to make a better life, not simply reflect back. And I want the same for you. Take a few minutes out of your day and go watch this video.
June 2, 2020 Haiku
a springtime moment
some cat holding a sparrow
blood on its whiskers
These are troubling times, aren’t they? I wonder what it would take for humanity to seek connection instead of division. Perhaps I’m naive to think that such a thing is possible. Perhaps. Yet I’ll cling to my hope.
Haiku, May 30, 2020
a day filled with rain
I avoid the damp puddles
circles flow outwards
A day of rain and thunder, such an abnormally in Seattle. Well, not the rain; that’s still quite common. Yet today I opted to forgo my evening walk. Just wasn’t in the mood to be soaked, cold and shivering.
Thunder in the Morning : A Haiku
rolling with the rain
there’s thunder in Seattle
the crows now silent
I wasn’t expecting thunder and lightening this morning. That’s rather atypical for Seattle. It brings back many memories for me, though. Life in the tropics had many joys.
A Morning Song
Most every day, a song echos in my mind as I wake. The universe often speaks to me in song.
This morning I woke to U2’s “40” and the line “how long, to sing this song?”
My heart troubled by the world’s rage soaked violence, by another bloody day. Will humanity expand out of it’s ego before the world’s burned into obliteration by hubris? Will I get to see that day? How long, my friends. How long?
Haiku: May 29, 2020
blossoms falling
bees move to the next bloom
my feet on concrete
This evening’s haiku, May 28, 2020
blossom petals fall
with their vibrant, violet hues
hinting at summer
Against all odds, I hold onto hope. Hard in this mad , rage-filled world.
An evening haiku : May 27, 2020
the sun through the trees
lovely warmth upon my skin
while junkos fly past
My evening walks have been a key element of my sanity during these trying times. The weather’s been lovely, so this walk has been truly wonderful.
Seattle’s Grown, As Have I
Ok, this is not a haiku nor a poem. I hope you can forgive the deviation from my norm. Today I read a piece by Seattle writer Angela Garbes. It resonated deeply with me, so I wanted to share with you, my friends.
Published in the Seattle Met, “As Seattle Grew, I grew Up” mirrors my own experience. I, too, spent my ‘feral 20s’ wandering Capitol Hill, where I lived the better part of 10 years of my life. Seeking the urban as a cyclist seeking a car-free life, and the vibrancy I imagined coming with concrete. Years making mostly minimum wage, yet able to survive. Gentrification just starting to squeeze. I being able to rise up the wage rungs quickly enough to stay above the flood waters of economic calamity.
My revisits come filled with memories. Oh, “this was here”, and “that was there”. Then “what WAS here”? Memories combine with memory’s absence; strange feelings, ones that I’m not quite used to.
“Cities are meant to change”. Seattle’s changed, quite a bit. Driving home how time has passed, how much older I’ve become. Things I’m not quite ready to accept, so they keep rearing up. Such is the way of things I guess.
Well, I’ll finish with a haiku: it’s what my soul wants.
these old concrete walks
echoing my youth’s footsteps
urban memories