Little plants beside the rickety old wooden stairs outside of my apartment. I am so lucky.

Samu, my boyif, cooked for me on Thursday night. And this was part of our feast. I bet you wish you were there! (the nails were not included.)

My best friend Reni from high school is on her way out to Boston (again!) and is crusin thru the KC Metro for a weekend of endless girl talk, her first roller derby experience, indian food and a workshop with Max Strom at the Yoga Gallery. This is us on a walk through my midtown neiby.

ANSWERS TO HEALTHY EXISTENCE

1) yoga (this will make an individual feel at one with the world) ~ 2-3 times/week at minimum.

2) deep breathing/meditation (this will cause one to react calmly to all situations and cause deeper breathing throughout the day) ~ at least 10 minutes every day.

3) ingestion of whole foods ~ all the time, everyday. but one should also allow exceptions to the rule.

4) community (it is imperative to share one's thoughts and feelings and feel valued with one another. support networks are essential to living. just think about the study where there was a widow or a widower--the widows lived much longer because, in general, they had more extensive support networks. widowers usually passed within one year. we cannot put our eggs all in one basket.)

5) massage/chiropratic care (i believe this can cure ear infections, backed up lymph systems, help one speak more clearly and follow one's heart, reduce/eliminate joint problems, rid the body of negative states of mind)

6) cardio ~ as much as possible. but be sure to stretch afterwards v. well. i think much of our cardiovascular activity is undone in another area (our muscular/skeletal system) once we do not stretch. one has great heart health, but ends up walking like an old man/woman in their mid-30s.

**this results in a healthy soul which results in a healthy mind and body. feelings of wholeness of being result as well as comfort in one's physical body.

My job offers ample time for the mind to wander and dwell on whatever habitates there. In the midst of punching in numbers on the computer and putting my full conscious attention towards menial tasks, the window outside my office held a beautiful scene. At another's shrieking, I swish around in my chair to take a looksee for myself. Usually I see a stinky Bradford Pear tree and two others fairly nearby, each covered with one square foot of baked-bean-colored wood chips at the base. There is a blacktop parking lot that the sun likes to pound upon during the summer. And four parking spaces are visible. But beyond that there is a good smallish sledding hill that gets overgrown by all sorts of wild weeds and flowers in the spring. My desk is situated that I enjoy the natural light from the ceiling high windows at my cubie. My coworker gets to stare out onto our stinky b.p. and greenery galore.

Sometimes in the winter we see a little red fox go trotting by. Once, I saw a pack of dogs, obviously a little family. But today, I was pleasantly greeted with three deer that had come up from the industrial part of town. There is a steep slope of wooded area that separates the back of my office from them. They were furtively looking around and jutting from here to there. They ended up running to another office's green lot in a skittery hurry. But hopefully they did not keep running at full gallop as there is a cliff on the backside of that lot. They appeared as spooked, lost, and contemplative.

The Turbulent Twenties

The beginning of this blog should begin with a rebirth, if you will. On Monday I attended the service of a man named Robert Julius Brawley on a farm just outside of Lawrence, Kansas. He was an artist, a professor, a father, a husband, and a friend amongst other things. I shall say that these words will not do it nor him justice. I know this because I was present on Monday with people that knew him in different capacities and in different ways. I myself did not know him that well, but I did know his laughter and his stories that interspersed his teachings, which were often riddled with references to mind altering substances. The people that attended his service were immensely touched by his intense connection and how much he helped you to realize yourself.

Just behind the barn where the service took place was a field with trails mowed through creating rambling patterns. Sam, Chris, and myself set off with a bottle of beer, a cup of wine, and a digicam in tow as the sun set though the trees. Our conversation turned to the exploration of how no one can really know each other. One fundamental misstep is trying to relate to one another--this can never truly be realized. We often do this through language. Language is just a construction that results in a separation in our minds (this is me, that is you, that is a rock, over there a tree).... and before language existed, everything in the world was one. This struggle within ourselves and our relationships can bring about turmoil for a goal that is never accomplished. On the other hand, someone might argue that language is all we have to convey our thoughts and emotions to another.

But throughout all this philosophical headiness, we realized that a person we knew in different capacities was causing us to reflect. To reflect on our lives, our purpose, togetherness, and being alone, ...Brawley influenced many things in our lives and continued to do so after departing our only understanding of life itself. All the perspectives of Brawley and life itself on Monday when rolled into one do not make a whole. They do not compose a complete picture of a person. Because that person is him or herself in entirety in and of themselves without the perspectives or understandings of other individuals.

This is my fresh start. All beginnings start at an end. May Brawley live on in the rest of us.