giving thanks

is it possible,
no matter what the world shows us
no matter what insults the body carries
and no matter the emotional charge
of our conditioning,
i wonder if it is truly possible
to give thanks for life itself?

is it possible to transcend
our dependency on external things?

or are we entirely driven
by these forces?

do we really have any power of choice?

it is a simple question.
even in the face of great fear
can we still be grateful
for existence itself
or must we demand something from it?

i think a master will say
there is a state of consciousness
that we can reach that is 
not dependent on anything
but most human beings are stuck
in that state of suffering
whereby gratitude is a bartering
tool, resigning them to a life of suffering.

in other words, gratitude is a choice we make
all day, every day, for our whole life.

wow. i can see where i have moved away from
simple thanks and caused my own suffering.

housekeeping your heart

i was going to write a poem about pain
and suffering
but decided instead
to go out
and dance and sing
about love
to all those
who have forgotten
the most important 
medicine of all

hatred and vengeance 
have no place
in this heart
it is a place
I keep clean
so i can welcome
friends and strangers 

if you would not
invite people
to your house
and start
fighting with them
as soon as they
are in the door
do not offer them
your warring self

keep your heart
and your mind

start your

enough with the poems show us the pictures

Welcome to my world!  Sausalito, San Francisco and California.
We are here, after a long year of visa application, my wife writing her book, visits to Costa Rica, UK and Sweden, we are successfully living here now, and will be here for the foreseeable future.
And boy oh boy are we happy about that. The last year has been utterly exhausting and very challenging, on many different levels.
But I will spare you the details and indulge those stories no longer.

This present moment is what really matters since its the only thing that is accessible. Here are some pics from the last week. What a place. The sky is big, things change fast, the fog rolls in, the light is extraordinary, and there are some great shots.

is there a place for softness?

i wonder sometimes
as i look around
and see so much
speed and intensity
as i see
the hardness
that has drawn
around us
like a
concrete blanket
into a kind of
fevered activity
like the panic
stricken hamster
on the wheel…

i wonder
is there any place
for softness?
is there any place
for the warm
and tender
that allows us
to just
breathe out?

do we have to be
broken and bombed
refugee or victim
to weep our sorrow?

i am sorry if this
poem isn’t up beat
and full of
positive affirmation
but someone
has to say these things.

without softness
we are dead.

may these soft tears
fall upon
the floor
and form a
a tiny ocean
for you to bathe in
and let go
of all this harshness
for one jewel-like

we scratch until we bleed

the last year
has taught me so much
fear and anxiety of
past and future

and i have come
to the conclusion
that there
is very little
that happens
in one’s life
that warrants
any time in 
either state.

if ninety nine
of all fears and
just do not happen
logic would
suggest giving them up!

but oh no! not we humans
we convince ourselves
that this time it’s different
this time its real
we scratch and scratch 
until we bleed
and then we cry
over the wound.

we cannot help it
we torment ourselves
and blame everything else

it is a joke
how seriously we take

awakening from the tormenter
is the only path to peace.



cherish every experience

at such a time 

as this
it is easy
to tighten up
and slip into
old habits

but staying open
and relaxed
and enjoying
the journey
brings such blessing

i learned
from my wife
the art of
every experience
even those
that come
like a storm
and those 
that appear to
one’s existence.



under the ecstatic sky


I walked under
the ecstatic sky
and lost my self

oh joy!
may i never find
my self again

a sweet reverie
graced me
and i received 
it’s blessing,
mesmerised by
the patterns
god weaves

while others 
were busy looking down
and shuffling off

to their early morning
i gazed toward
the heavens in
stunned silence

the sky, the sky
i have seen
ten thousand times before
surprised me
yet again

and brought me
to my knees
in sheer wonder

how can i not
the simple majesty
of existence
when it offers me
its beauty
so freely?

the-ecstatic-sky-2-copy the-ecstatic-sky-3