Tuesday, July 31, 2007
July 31 responses
©2007 MaxComm Communications, all rights reserved.
back to leaves - July 31 musing
today’s Musing written and published from south Calgary, near Fish Creek Park
13C/55F (high 23C), light cloud, we avoided the park as a 2nd cougar has been seen (so many cougars around I expect someone will open a bar); small duck flotillas, Gusta wanted to say hi to her little friends, trees heavy in leaves – most green but some, already, turning yellow at the edge . . mid-summer dream soon ‘that’s all she wrote’ – on every tree, each leaf unique like a finger print or a snow flake (sorry) to remind us of our similarities, of our unique difference
in a word – a word; the right word, not the left, the write word . . to light, to lighten, to enlighten - cliché day - a leaf turned, ‘that’s all she wrote’, met a four time; puns, twists with words, typos, double entendres – amazing how phrase twists, a right key or left shift meaning, turn a thought; sometimes absurd, sometimes wisdom inside, some times I metaphor, one time I met a ten; typos offering insight in sight, what a sight – they interest me more (slightly) than puns; I saw one yesterday - someone describing the relationship she wanted – wishing lightning to strike, but typed it wrong – or maybe she got it right after all – it came out ‘lightening’ - better left that way, that’s all she wrote, no right word is better
flammable, inflammable – same no matter how we spell it - no right or wrong way, no mistake changes meaning; either way the sight of this word makes me want to light a fire under something, torch an idea, scorch another, singe something – sauté something, smother a flame softly, ignite something that smolders lightly, something that keeps heat alive for a long time . . but I digress; when someone leaves, sometimes something’s left behind, right? . . some sense of them remains (scents for my smelling friends) – in print - so easily becomes imprint, pattern on back of a leaf – roadmap of many paths, each one ending at an edge, to return in reverse on the other side; no hidden message there but something that has always fascinated me . . the pattern flipped over does not look like a mirror image but rather an entire new thing, a fresh surface to examine, just like people I suppose – flip them over and you have another side of them to explore; spine the same, branches the same but we see another side, quite unlike the side we’ve witnessed, new opportunities to examine unfolding
back to leaves, coloured green – subtle twists of yellow and orange at the edges as a real sunlamp works magic leaving hair and leaves lightened – especially on these summer days, the ones that end in thunder storms, when lightning – those bolts out of the blue shake us up, thrill us magically for a moment - like when we experience flammable, we are inflamed, then we simmer, we reduce heat to enjoy summer’s warmth but we cool off a little
big hug to DL, one of the marvelous leaves on anyone’s friend tree, celebrates today; you know the kind of birthday - one that does not end in a zero or a five, not a gasp or a fret – enlightened, enlightening and lightening
“The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and lighting bug.” – Mark Twain
leaves hang on trees, hang on – not all leaves leave, not all leaves are all green, not all friends enlighten, but the good ones lighten – a day or the sky or your load - they always do
Mark Kolke
223,104
201.8
What do you think? Join the discussion - your comments are welcomed - please write.
To subscribe to Mark's Musings daily email distribution, write to musing@maxcomm.ca
©2007 MaxComm Communications, all rights reserved.
Monday, July 30, 2007
July 30 responses
©2007 MaxComm Communications, all rights reserved.
turning point - July 30 musing
17C/63F(high 23C), noisy pre-dawn geese sorties broke the quiet, day-old heat hung lazily in early sunshine, then quickly fled as cloud and haze blew in; Gusta pulled, my knees and shoulders shuddered as she dragged me along; paths quiet, the neighbourhood vacant except for holiday folk with fences to build
Scott - thanks for the Doho weather report
memory is great – anything you want, anywhere you want; no need to go there – just remember it – but taking some time for sitting idly by a mountain stream, walking in a mountain meadow or skiing down to one – or any moment we enjoy; sometimes we have to rely on memory because busy people cannot find the time
you can find it; when we give up time from something we really want to add to our daily routine, it doesn’t have to be something big we give up – but, where do we grab that hour?
at the end, some days, I examine what is left; my tally - some letters I did not write, accounting I omitted, a bill I’ll pay tomorrow – also I’ve often missed a trip to the gym, a call, a meeting, an errand – every one important, or they wouldn’t be on my list, right?
?? where can I find that required time - my first place to steal/borrow time, if from sleep-time but that is a hard one to pay back; I look for some idle time (we all need some, but I’ve yet to meet anyone who said they could not give up some of their idle time to spend time with someone incredible or for ‘free tickets to the big game’); we always have the time – what we fail to do is admit that it is simply a matter of choice that has us say ‘no’ or ‘not available’ to do things we know are important to us or to others who matter
I plot course for my newest adventure – it seems I am turning my head, looking where I want to go, two tracks requiring some parallel turns; in time I learned to ‘turn my head to look where I wanted to go’ so that my body could follow; yet when I was learning to downhill ski, I found that to be one of the most difficult things I did - learning to do that parallel turn
that struggle from snow-plow to a nice sliding parallel turn looked so easy but I thought it should be hard – it looked hard – and I think I made it even harder because I was so determined to make it happen that things like taking a lesson or asking for help were far from my mind
I have a new challenge I thought would be hard – but it seems I’ve learned a thing or two along the way which is making it a little easier; I’ll report back in a year or two to let you know if I can make those turns
Mark Kolke
223,128
202.0
What do you think? Join the discussion - your comments are welcomed - please write.
To subscribe to Mark's Musings daily email distribution, write to musing@maxcomm.ca
©2007 MaxComm Communications, all rights reserved.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
July 29 responses
Things for me are great, and getting better everyday. I have set some goals for all aspects of my life that are smoothly going on target. The real estate market is changing dramatically here, and it has involved teaching my clients how to deal with the drop in buyers, the drop in Prices, and the large inventory of prospective competition. If I can teach myself to keep adjusting to the market changes, I will be Successful regardless. It is a challenge, and I am up for it. I am still enjoying my coffee at the pc everyday and reading your musings. I don’t have such a social calendar as yours, and no love in my life. Adjusting to singledom has been difficult for me, as I had a deep core. Belief that one must partner. Apparently that is not to be, as I am maybe far too outspoken for many, and very strong willed. If people are too easy going, they boor me, and If they are outgoing, we get into a challenge. Again as always, there has to be BALANCE. I am going to try and go camping in August and enjoy the meteor showers, DM, Red Deer
©2007 MaxComm Communications, all rights reserved.
no limitations - July 29 musing
14C/56F(high 31C), breeze peacefully cools the heat of a restful stifling night; Gusta met Max, a Beagle, tall grass rimming park path waving as if some great conductor was gesticulating in front of a waving grain orchestra; Swift Current memories of a year ago . . hot . .
I’m 5 and loving it; OK, so I’m 55 but why can’t I love it just the same? . . . I believe we are all creative (watch a 5 yr. old and see how easily it flows), I think we all have the ability to unlock the door to that creativity - if we get past fear of what might be on the other side to find out what lurks on the other side of that door we’ve not broken down; we need to kick it down, break it down or de-construct it . . . or, sometimes, we might just try turning the knob
whole months can flash by without it seeming I’ve accomplished much; not true, but some days it seems that way – when that happens I tend to try to analyze what roadblocks (often ones I’ve put there myself) are on my path; each day, each of us, spend our creative potential on something; for some that might be a workout at the gym or mowing a lawn, reading a book – a thousand possibilities – but ask yourself whether that is REALLY what you want to be doing; all other tasks are worthy . . they need doing, want doing and ultimately need to be done, but ask yourself this – “am I using this as a way to diffuse my creativity, to set my creativity aside, to stifle my creativity?”
the term ‘needs analysis’ comes up in so many situations, especially in business; usually in the same conversation someone will mention SWOT analysis; these are the ways we mask our ‘wants’ analysis – the way we articulate our unmet needs, strengths, weaknesses, opportunities, threats – the flow so easily to a flip chart, a graph or pie piece when the subjects are next month’s sales, next year’s growth and long term profits
when applied to personal issues, mine anyway, I think analyzing threats and weaknesses becomes a very limiting self defeating exercise; I prefer focusing on the opportunities and knowing my strengths, planning new initiatives – part of my ‘get me to Hawaii quicker plan’ - surely things worth doing that I want to do wherever I am, whatever I am doing – my limitations are only limitations if I recognize them
blank page awaited, as surely as it does every morning - blank canvas quickly fills ; I have what I need – I am who I need to be (which has nothing to do with whether I know what paint will I splash on life today), know what I will draw upon, what I will draw from today; full day writing yesterday – lots to show for it, great evening capped it, fresh brewed beans, perfectly scrambled eggs, fruit chaser and papers read, I have this day - no limitations on my agenda, no limitations on what I can do - like a 5 yr. old at play, like a 5 yr. old laughing like a 5 yr. old
we react to the changes that ‘happen to us’, we deal with them in such grown up fashion –but we need to remember that the juiciest of choice changes are the ones that take us to the other side of that door – a path to play, not fear . . we would all know that if were 5
Mark Kolke
223,152
200.4
What do you think? Join the discussion - your comments are welcomed - please write.
To subscribe to Mark's Musings daily email distribution, write to musing@maxcomm.ca
©2007 MaxComm Communications, all rights reserved.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
taking inventory - Saturday, July 28, 2007
21C/70F(high 29C), light breeze, hazy empty sky, Gusta met a Basset hound baying at the moon in daylight – or baying at Gusta, not sure but I think it was an offer of friendship
life is better when we get a new one; I’m counting them up, I’m taking inventory; I have old ones, fairly new ones, deep ones, shallow ones – all shapes and sizes; not baking pans – friends; the only thing that is real, the only thing that matters, the only thing that ever has, the only thing that ever will – relationships with people who are important to us; some have other names like father, child, sister, brother, lover, husband, wife etc – they all answer to friend
life is true friends, rare vintages, who tell how it is, how it isn’t, what they think of you, what they need from you and never ask for what you can do for them; not to say that reciprocity is not important - good friends give and give but they take away a smile, sometimes a hug, sometimes less than that – sometimes more, but friends give and take away rich experiences
life is people (like NC- yesterday response) demonstrating obstacles are things we choose, or not, to dissipate energy; nothing to do with length of life, everything to do with quality of life
‘True friends stab you in the front.’ – Oscar Wilde
life is a life threatening condition; so is marriage, so is parenting, so is every career, hobby, art form or fantasy – it is every day we get up, face up to , taste, consume, live in glory or squalor, joy or pain – circumstances diverse, choices our equalizer; someone with 40 years to live, not engaged in life, idly making wasteful choices while someone counting down 40 days who cannot wait to start each day ought to inspire us all . . but for what?
life is friends who inflict wounds, do stupid stuff, annoy us to – but when done we are still friends; rare ones become rare friends, spare ones become spare friends – like the kind you pull out of a trunk to fix you when you are flat – friendship is not a benefit program, though sometimes benefits can be a lot of fun; I’m not talking about distant acquaintances, friends with benefits – or making a distinction between very old friends or very new friends; some people come into our life for no other apparent reason than to be our friends, if we let them
life is distraction; email here, phone call there - a website building and writing day unfolds; some people say they are on a search for their best friend, some people I meet tell me they have been married to their best friend for many years, but what amazes me about so many people I meet is that they look for (or keep) ONE friend, shutting others out or at least keeping them at safe (defining safe is an entire discussion entirely) distance, not letting them in
life is true friends who call you up for no reason; true friends are still true friends when they’ve not called in a season; true friendship does not live in our in-box, our out-box, our rolodex nor can they be counted by how many people show up at the party – but they’ll surely have a reserved seat at the funeral - life is great every day, but always sweeter when we count up our friends to find we have found a new one
some friends make me howl with laughter, some make me want to howl at the moon, some make me angry, all make me thirst for more . .
Mark Kolke
223,176
200.6
What do you think? Join the discussion - your comments are welcomed - please write.
To subscribe to Mark's Musings daily email distribution, write to musing@maxcomm.ca
©2007 MaxComm Communications, all rights reserved.
Friday, July 27, 2007
July 27 responses
Hi, Mark. I don’t even know who put me on your list, but I’m glad they did. I’m a professional communicator for a public utility in New Orleans, La. I’ve been a writer, in some form or another, for many years. Thus, I am also a voracious reader of diverse and manifold prose and verse. Yours stands out. It’s fresh, engaging, friendly and comfortable, like a chat with a friend on a mellow hike through a morning forest. Unlike many writers who attain technical proficiency yet never breathe life into their work, you share yourself, bravely. This instills a vulnerability and humanity in your work that gently penetrates the spiky battlements of our daily grind and gives us, your readers/friends, a cool, serene moment within ourselves. I look forward to our morning walks. For that, and myriad other little bright moments your words have and will bring, thank you. Scritchy-scratch Gusta behind the ears for me …, CW, New Orleans, LA . . p.s. Take care, and don't forget to tell Gusta she has a fan, too
©2007 MaxComm Communications, all rights reserved.
for BS - Friday, July 27, 2007
14C/57F (high 31C), windy, clear, hot, dry weekend begins; walk through the neighbourhood took Gusta down a fresh street, fresh smells delight her . .
I don’t need a fresh path, a new street – but an ineffable curiosity takes me down many
my simplest needs are met by me, my greatest needs - like most people I expect - are to be relevant - to someone, to matter to someone, to be of service to my world in a manner that someone appreciates; in so doing I get (if I choose) to be self indulgent or not, brave or not, bold or not, happy or not, satisfied or not, goofy or not - choices I make drive it all, just as it can for anyone; having a simple dinner - company, conversation, a few minutes 'at the end of the day' to spend with someone who cares to talk, cares to listen, cares to touch, cares to be touched; these simple elements, often overlooked or given short shrift are as important a part of our life as any deep thoughts we might ever construct or any deep feeling we might develop
few things focus attention like these moments – meeting someone unforgettable (BS, this day’s for you!) who impacts our life in ways we would never have imagined, stubbing 4 toes of one foot simultaneously (and hard) as we move about groggily early in the morning in the dark, the moment a child is born (our own child when we are in the room watching the miracle), THE moment immediately after the pinnacle of joy, THE moment immediately before someone smiles at us, the moment our well planned golf shot actually goes where it was intended and almost goes in the hole, and the element of surprise/shock/disbelief when we get incredibly good or incredibly bad news, or the clear voice of reason when it rises simply out of the din
is there value in anything any of us does – what’s the relevance when at any moment the most worthy of us might be plucked to be the next cancer statistic? OK, pick any malady, but I’ll pick this one – not because this is the big fundraising walkathon to raise money for breast cancer research and not just because a friend’s life is being profoundly affected by that – but simply as an example of how swiftly the greatest bravado can be reduced to such simple human terms; satisfying our needs is our individual personal responsibilities – the world owes you nothing, you (me, we, all of us) owe the world 24 hrs. of energetic life every day – if you are not, then you are NOT TRYING HARD ENOUGH
I’ve been experimenting – interesting results; my lab is the internet, my ingredients are spontaneity; my subjects friends, foes, strangers, colleagues, clients, loves and lovers past and present; what I’ve been doing lately is twofold – living large and free, doing the outrageous, being a mood-driven brand of unpredictable, setting aside expectations of people’s behaviour – well, that’s four .. not two .. but you catch my drift; if we don’t respond to our impulses, does our flexible tree of life not bend over under its own weight . . not from bearing fruit but from bearing a burden of all our unmet expectations, our baggage from every hurt or horror, our shackles from a strict religious upbringing or our world (in our minds) telling us all the things we should not do because of someone’s perceptions of what is not good, not right, not tasteful, not . . whatever . . not supposed to do it in any case - but, when we try undoing something outside everyone else’s comfort zone . . anything; it cannot be done
the joke . . the learning . . the apology; if you gasped try to put that back, if you laughed wildly, try to stuff that back where it came from – be careful, there are prudes with very tight rectal muscles in our midst; it was neither great humour or great writing . . but my impulse was to stick it under some minds . . just to be curious about reactions; juvenile perhaps (I circulated to my joke-mail list a very bad taste ‘tongue in cheek’ item yesterday set up with a very ‘tongue in cheek’ preamble), produced a range of reactions, laughter and anger has me shaking my head while I laugh uncontrollably; I can only wonder what Orsen Wells must have felt like when the phones started ringing off the hook); we all have impulses every hour of every day; asking for what we want is OK, wanting what we ask for is OK, not knowing what we want is OK, testing ourselves to see into who we really are is OK too - not an ounce of regret – just be a living Nike commercial, just do it! [sorry . . if I hurt anyone's feelings or damaged irreparably your view of me I'm sorry - now, build a bridge and get over it]
I don’t try too hard . . as someone commented, I KNOW ABSOLUTELY FOR CERTAIN, I don’t try nearly hard enough; someone I met recently challenged me – their premise that I lack impulse control, it is a problem, I ought to do something about it and curtailing my impulses would be a good thing; not sure I agree but worth thinking about - the thought remains, should I stifle impulse, or harness it; which has more power, the water held back by the dam or the wave rolling to shore, which is better, which is best for me?
Mark Kolke
223,200
201.8
What do you think? Join the discussion - your comments are welcomed - please write.
To subscribe to Mark's Musings daily email distribution, write to musing@maxcomm.ca
©2007 MaxComm Communications, all rights reserved.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
July 26 responses
You are trying too hard for the woman in your life. She's probably already there, you can't see her. Have you made room for her? Is there room in the garage for her car, is there room in the closet for her clothes, is there room in the bed for her or do you sleep in the middle? Make room and act like she's there and you'll see her. Sorry Mark it's not me! I am married and wouldn't do a thing to change it, he's a great guy, loves me and treats me well, puts up with me and my clothes/shoes fetish and is a great dad too, I am very blessed. I noticed that one of your favorite authors is Chopra, have you read Tolle?, NG, Calgary
©2007 MaxComm Communications, all rights reserved.
meet you there - Thursday, July 26,2007
today’s Musing written and published from south Calgary, near Fish Creek Park
13C/55F, still sky an empty blue bubble; we walked in the park - news of the roaming cougar’s capture/relocation eased concern – amazing day for sitting on a deck or patio behind any of the luxurious homes we walked by, dozens of them, but not one person sitting out there enjoying morning sunshine, morning coffee . . just a border collie half Gusta’s size with a big bark to scare her away
“meet you in the field” – could be kids planning a gopher hunt, farmers planning a crop, bully setting a meeting after school, developers developing, dog owners scheduling a walk, lovers snatching time – meeting someone in a field, a field of possibilities – can be anything you want, where you want it; a mental construct as much as it is any place, your field of possibilities or the field of dreams can be anywhere, so can mine, so can ours – but once there, in this risk/reward opportunity/fear infested field, what might we find?
how about living and working in another field? is this your field? are you in my field? I wish I was in your field!
acceptance of what we do, who we are, how we feel is something I believe we need, want – crave, the more we discover ourselves; a basic a survival need as babies, now, or any time in life, especially as we unfold our innards to find some things that are outside the norm, a little avant garde . . then we really need that acceptance; to know however wacky we might be from time to time, our minds-altered in some way, that we are held – not at arms length – but held close just because we are who we are, not in spite of who we are – that spells acceptance; we all need what I need - acceptance from someone who cares to know me, who wants to understand me, who has my interests at heart when they give me feedback, someone who witnesses me – and I them, not to analyze, not to dissect – just to be
acceptance and understanding to be genuine, flows easily in a mode of effortlessness, otherwise it is non-acceptance, non-understanding and not particularly useful at all
sometimes I get wrapped up in my funque-du-jour, we probably all have issues we think are so unique to us, unique to our relationship with one particular person that frustrates us at the moment – as if we are the only person, only group, only couple that has ever struggled with this issue because we are so self-aware, so modern, so tech-savvy, so forward thinking etc… you’ve all read the jargon many times; I’ve found some comfort . . acceptance in a fashion . . in some very old words
“Out beyond ideas of wrong doing and right doing, there is a field. I will meet you there.” – Jalal ad-Din Rumi (Persian poet & mystic 1207-1273)
Mark Kolke
223,224
201.4
What do you think? Join the discussion - your comments are welcomed - please write.
To subscribe to Mark's Musings daily email distribution, write to musing@maxcomm.ca
©2007 MaxComm Communications, all rights reserved.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
July 25 responses
Another Musing read, absorbed and filed away by me . and . so sadly, another woman read, absorbed and filed away by you . I feel for you . I know you won't give up . you simply can't . if YOU, of all people give up, that tiny dash of hope diminishes for me and others, BG, San Diego, CA
©2007 MaxComm Communications, all rights reserved.
caught a glimpse of her - Wednesday, July 25, 2007
14C/57F (high 23C), overcast, we walked around the lagoon, Gusta treating each water filled dip in the ground as her personal water dish – lots of stops; that done – a late start – a cloudy day - walking after a little rain
rain of disappointment fails to drown my spirit, I slept on it; I slept alone again/still, nothing changed, I woke up alone/still - nothing changed, I went one more day of my life without someone incredible by my side - nothing changed
out of the sky, when we least expect it, a little rain and other things can hit us – sometimes they knock pretty hard; Gusta and I walked the long route near the park last night (cougar sightings make me want to avoid that portion of the park for now); light rain as we started, then hail - pea size followed by marble size - then the sky opened up to drench us – Gusta likes eating ice but she’d never had the cubes thrown down at her before
regret is a personal thing often linked to its cousin ‘self pity’ and its very distant relative ‘self loathing’; was it bad timing – not sure if any timing could have been better; no regrets – such a great little phrase, a meaningless one I think - who cares if I have regrets - what better timing is there than acting on the collision of gut, brain, experience – reveling in the moment?
I've wondered what I could do or have done to change any of it; said less, done less, said more, done more, felt differently, kept it a secret, kept it to myself, not bought flowers, played hard to get (OK, so I couldn’t do that one)- there were so many other options; it is possible I suppose - I could simply decide to take back my power from the external world – forego my ‘unmet needs’ to just expect or want nothing? . . a friend offered me some thoughts along those lines – good for mulling; just because I had expectations does not mean the world will spin my way, so why should I be upset?
a couple of weeks ago I met her - and, as all can see - nothing's changed; the next time (maybe I'm running out of chances of this happening) someone so spectacular crosses my path, maybe I'll just let her go by - that might be an easier path; I say that today because that is my mood at this moment knowing it is quite likely not going to be the case - but now, right now, for a while, I do not feel that enthusiasm that filled my sails
I realize what an easy path I walk; sometimes disappointments rain but, if only for a brief moment I caught a glimpse of joy, then the disappointment that something did not go my way - a very small price to pay for a glimpse of what might have been; threads of mine woven into someone’s life, some of theirs mixed with mine too - not many, not long – a brief splash of colour change, rainbow of sorts
it seems, we get what we get, not what we say we want; we get not what we deserve, we get what we get; we get a million choices every day – not one of them comes with a label saying ‘pick me, I’ll make your life perfect’, not one of them comes with a label saying ‘pick me, your life will be horrid if you do’; not one of them can be chosen by anyone else for anyone else – I love that about life, I struggle with it, but I love it
a fresh breeze blew in, what remains is not called regret, what remains is simply choices
sometimes that happens after a little rain
Mark Kolke
223,248
201.0
What do you think? Join the discussion - your comments are welcomed - please write.
To subscribe to Mark's Musings daily email distribution, write to musing@maxcomm.ca
©2007 MaxComm Communications, all rights reserved.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
July 24 responses
©2007 MaxComm Communications, all rights reserved.
fresh breeze - Tuesday, July 24, 2007
16C/61F (high 26C), a fresh breeze blew in here; sunny now, thunderstorms expected; Gusta too quick for me to control sometimes – chasing walkers and joggers – quick enthusiastic forays, then settling down again only to be quickly diverted by the next sniff of the next new thing . . like dog, like owner . . my new shoes are fantastic
I slept fast, restless, morning coffee ingested, leaking out in metaphors; this place is different this morning, a fresh breeze blew in here; grinding gears and cat track rumbles across the road, their noise wafts in and out, just enough to break concentration, non-rhythmic background music; so many things to do, so many on the back-burner already that I need to buy more burners – what am I available for, do I have time for a big project (good questions for me, good questions for you), do I have time for a big project and how do I decide?
every project requires time, distracts from every other - at first, a couple of hours here, a meeting there, sprinkled incrementally over months, perhaps to discover there is no worthy project to be had, or a scope change takes the project in a different direction; is this one worthy, will it make sense later; what about competing projects, opportunities – front burner business needs attention too, issues and values compete - what about them; like Gusta flitting from bush to path, from sniffing to chasing, from running off madly to coming back; back to this project – can I handle it - is it too much, too complex, too distracting, too difficult, too much trouble, it may change the very nature of my business – if so - for better or worse – how much change is good, how much can I handle, how much do I want?
common to most businesses; how to allocate energy, resources, time, direction, focus; mindful of a bottom line today and future – projections, market share – litmus testing whether a particular project or client fits ‘mission-vision-values’; most of us rarely stop to take stock of ourselves and every element of our being each time a new opportunity comes along; a merchant does not re-evaluate his entire business each time a single customer comes across the threshold, constantly evaluating customer wants, customer needs to make sure the right goods and services are available in the right place at the right time at the right price offered by the right staff with the right knowledge and attitudes on display; a merchant examines every opportunity as chance to grow business, make money, build reputation and survive another season without too much inventory, debt, or tangential choices that took his focus off course – customers left behind wondering what happened because their needs are not being met – a business changed, grown, failed – each choice, each consequence warrants consideration
I struggle with forces within me – push hard, push away, pull close, pull away from that which I want the most, bottled up - carefully protected, vulnerable spots hidden under layers, behind barriers, emotional fences surround inner self; oh, I talk a good story, but rarely let anyone get really close; some get close, but not deeply – reserved for so few, how could anyone get in?
a fresh breeze blew through here last night - dinner guest brought chat and flowers too, dinner guest brought challenge and opportunity, dinner guest brought manners and style, dinner guest brought understanding, dinner guest brought a smile, and left one behind
not sure what she took away, not sure I offered much, struggling here . .
Mark Kolke
223,272
199.8
What do you think? Join the discussion - your comments are welcomed - please write.
To subscribe to Mark's Musings daily email distribution, write to musing@maxcomm.ca
©2007 MaxComm Communications, all rights reserved.
Monday, July 23, 2007
July 23 responses
Hi Mark, I can relate to the wait. I have waited for many things in my lifetime .. phone calls that never come, test results you wish had not, planes, answers, babies, true love, museum buildings, and opportunities. Waiting is a trap. There will always be reasons to wait. But there are more compelling and important reasons to move on.., LR, Irvine, CA
©2007 MaxComm Communications, all rights reserved.
waiting - Monday, July 23, 2007
20C/62F (high 31C); it was cool walking early this morning as sunrise first lit the sky, cool quiet, cool neat, cool air met my face as we cruised through the park trail, rabbits on reconnaissance missions, deer elusive though I sensed they were there so close, Gusta’ nose could not be wrong
great golf yesterday – AW, SM & played at River Spirit – laughs and interesting experiences with some of the more interesting friends in my collection, what a combo on a gorgeous day
we wait for mail, for something to upload, download, be posted, be announced, be _?_; it seems everyone waits for something, a day to arrive or someone to depart, a position to be reached, achievement, post or position accomplished – arriving someplace we are or are going to be, someone on a pedestal, on display - available for viewing; we all wait for something, but who waits patiently without being restless?
I wonder if the opposite of restless is rest more, or if it might mean we are as good as dead, dormant, frozen, stuck, immobile; if I wait, what do I wait for, when it arrives, will I recognize it – or will it wake me to new experiences?
when I start something – no idea where it will go, how it will look - I can turn back, stop, change direction, or forge ahead – having started - letting loose a beginning
I cannot un-start anything; like digging a hole - then refilling it, there is always some volume left over (growth perhaps?), but certainly we cannot stuff everything back in the container from whence it came – not so much Pandora’s box, more like yeasty dough rising – we can pound it down but it is always more than it looks, often more than we imagined it would be
I wait for waves upon my shore, moving landscape around, food from the sea to sustain, to nudge, to ebb, to flow . . to think, to grow
waiting here
Mark Kolke
223,296
202.0
What do you think? Join the discussion - your comments are welcomed - please write.
To subscribe to Mark's Musings daily email distribution, write to musing@maxcomm.ca
©2007 MaxComm Communications, all rights reserved.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
July 22 responses
Your Dad and I share a birthday! I hope he had a good one! I spent mine (48th) out for a nice lunch and then cheering the Stamps on with the kids. A great day all around. Re: no point earned - July 22 - missing those links...haven't golfed in a couple weeks now but hoping to go this weekend! So many demands on my time, it is time for stepping back and regrouping. I think sometimes when we are trying hardest to get a point across we are missing the point. Is it really so important? Once said, does it need to be debated? dissected? Sometimes the point comes to mind later for reflection in the quieter moments, in the review of the moment, review of the day. I have a sister-in-law who used to call me back after a long conversation on the phone to clarify and apologize for things she said or points she made that she later thought could be misconstrued or hurtful. She is the sweetest, most considerate person I know so no slight was felt on my part, but she was always chewing over the spoken word, her spoken words. SL, Calgary
©2007 MaxComm Communications, all rights reserved.
no point earned - Sunday, July 22, 2007
15C/59F(high 30C), our walk short (Gusta doen’t seem to understand me telling her, ‘I’m on my way out to walk 18 holes’) around the lagoon – ducks ducking, light breeze
par is elusive, above par is not good but it sounds good; below par is good, but it sounds bad – up to par sounds like improvement; funny game, golf
hit a winner or see an opponent make an unforced error, win a point - game, set, match . . my game growing up was tennis, competitive tennis – I played singles well, I played mixed doubles better – the game where you sometimes take a ball in the back of the head from someone called your partner – a game where points are scored between the laughter breaks, when I used to serve and volley with perky sassy young women as both teammate and opponent, perhaps a metaphor for my life; funny game, tennis
great outing with my dad yesterday; he says, when he was 60 he thought he’d live to 70; now, at 85, his target is 95 . . a man still 10 years ahead of time; we shopped for a guy-girdle, for back relief and I think we found a good one, we lunched and talked about how we understand each other so well, women not so well; we talked about life and living – he is more free than any man could ever be – the world has no expectations of him, he has no timetable, no rush - his anxiety that he remembers to book his trips to doctors or the mall for his walks; he does not struggle to make a point, come to think of it, he never has; funny game, life
points scored - jousting, boxing, fencing, duels and warfare – competitive combative activities, based on punches landed, wounds opened, hurt inflicted – hate it; give me words, give me reason, give me a worthy adversary – lets debate, lets spar a little, let laugh a lot; making a point, scoring a point, holding a view, needing others to see it – seems so important sometimes; it seems to have been important most of my life, as far back as I can remember –so understanding that in others should be easy, not always so; funny game, communicating
talking, words, joy of my world, sometimes bane of my existence – cut as deeply as any knife, skewer as well as any sword; licking wounds following a brutal match, sleep helped as much as any ointment, but when the whirl of words stopped, paused, I attempted to start over; the sun has comes up, I hope reason will prevail; funny game, conversation
trying to make my point heard, my point of view seen, heard – sure, but a deaf ear cannot listen to me, nor can I hear anyone else’s view if my rigidness prevents me from listening; sleep, wake up, discomforts are gone, feelings remain; funny game, hearing
a series of, I thought, well intentioned mistakes (OK, I didn’t think they were mistakes at all); I was told the best thing I could do was apologize and then shut up; funny game, mistakes
in tennis, an unforced error earns no point, having no points or point is called love; funny game, love
Mark Kolke
223,320
202.0
What do you think? Join the discussion - your comments are welcomed - please write.
To subscribe to Mark's Musings daily email distribution, write to musing@maxcomm.ca
©2007 MaxComm Communications, all rights reserved.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
try to be ready - Saturday, July 21, 2007
14C/57F(high 25C), clear, warm sun on my back, Gusta seems to be shedding a puppy equivalent each day, we walked the ridge path and back again, lap-dog walkers out if force, holding Gusta back strains my back . . earth moving machines groan and bounce across the road, they’ve vanished my silence, beeping in reverse, changing direction on whims
WT, thanks for those kind words; I am but one part of a complex equation – I’m ready to get into the lab, ready to experiment – to see what happens, but that also requires some choices and actions by someone I scarcely know; I am hopeful guy, glass is half-full guy wishing to explore someone quite remarkable, I’ll try to be ready
we talk about directions in life – the ones I’ve taken, the ones he didn’t permeate most of our lunch talks when we get together; we talk about family, incidentals, the condo-board’s antics, about who died and who will soon, about this Dr. appointment or that one, which pill is for what ailment – his memory sharp, his interests clear – we always return to discussing how people function, how we function, how we are different, how we are so much the same; I treasure the time we spend knowing there will be a day when that chapter is over – his life makes me smile and laugh far more than it makes me cry, I’ll try to be ready
luck has nothing to do with it, but I feel so lucky; my dad leaves 85 years behind him today, embarks on his 86th year of life; we’ll do some shopping, have a lunch together (he just called to confirm!) . . we’ll laugh and he’ll be sporting a broad smile that never shows a tooth, a broad smile that tells me he is happy; we’ll go shopping for his birthday gift - his wish is for a corset to support his paining back; I can do that, happy to do that – he’s done so much for me, spending this 85 years being who he is – who he was, not someone else’s notion of who we was or ought to be; he looks at life from a place nearer the end of it all, my vantage point feels more like the middle – is the middle – had better be the middle
there was no path laid out for me or most of my generation individually but there was an example to follow; it was the style of his generation, displayed for our generation to follow – as had been the case of so many generations before; for a while I followed a traditional path, a safe path, the one I thought was expected of me – as did most boomer age folks, my generation; but I went off the path – and I’m still off the path, off course of course – I’ve been working hard at exploring the ditches, the rough, the un-trodden places where the most incredible experiments take place with the most incredible of people; never knowing what I might encounter, I’ll try to be ready
some people can sit quietly, reflecting, choosing their moments, acting only after careful deliberation – I’m not one of those; oh sure, I reflect and choose, but I tend to more impulsively act, react, speak, move, do, try – missing my mark as often as I hit it, never knowing what will come my way next, always, I’ll try to be ready
rarely do we get what we want, when we want it, in the form we want it, gift wrapped and tied with a bow – life is pretty, life is ugly, life is lived between bookends, played out on the field between the goal posts for the world to see, life is Saturday morning . . life is Saturday night, life is a road where things sometime back up and hit us without a warning beep, life is modern, life is old fashioned, life makes me smile and laugh far more than it makes me cry, I’ll try to be ready
Mark Kolke
223,368
202.0
What do you think? Join the discussion - your comments are welcomed - please write.
To subscribe to Mark's Musings daily email distribution, write to musing@maxcomm.ca
©2007 MaxComm Communications, all rights reserved.
Friday, July 20, 2007
some moments - Friday, July 20, 2007
today’s Musing written and published from south Calgary, near Fish Creek Park
11C/51F (high 24C), hot air balloons in the distance start the morning with views uninterrupted by anything but clear and blue, welcome chilly breeze pushes away stifling stillness; a perfect spider’s web (the web, not the spider) strung between trees with the view of the hot air balloons in the distance framed a perfect photo opportunity – makes me wonder if I take my camera tomorrow if I could capture the same scene, or want to
some moments are best savoured, remembered yes, but savoured for just what they are when they are as moments in time, a collective improbable confluence of factors, time, place – the variables, the paths that brought us to this place – this moment in time, so unlikely that we ever connect with anyone, our stumbles and mis-steps add to the unlikely chance that when we meet someone rightish for us that we don’t completely blow it or blow it up before the seeds of growth have time to germinate
of those things I value most I value a clear mind, an open heart, a giving nature, a backbone connected to a big brain, a life connected to something big that matters, a smile smiling at me and a hand to hold – not very complicated really, so what makes a marvelous connection – these ones worth admiring, these ones we envy, these ones we stand in awe of?
how many people do we get to know like this in our lives; most of us meet & marry, great & tarry – short relationships or horribly (sometimes horrible) long ones, with lots of smart factors, logistics, value, values, circumstance and pomp – I’ve seen a few of those I admire, but precious few . . BS & NR immediately come to mind, as does memory of Ben & Kay and DA & Grace, DA & SA . . but a finger left on one hand when I’ve counted them all; Ben & Kay were old when I met them many years ago – they are long gone but their impact remains with me, BS & DA struggle with life threatening illness which makes me both sad and hopeful because these are people who possess all the attributes one might want in someone facing the toughest challenges life brings
what measuring tool, what criteria, what recipe, what wanting, what wishing, what dreaming makes it happen? . . . sure there are ups, downs, sideways; there are periods of great and periods of tough interspersed with periods of calm, periods of joy, magical moments, fun things, stupid things and incredibly foolish things
this week may not have significance for anyone else but me, but if it does then it will be because someone special connected me with someone special who put up with me in spite of myself, someone who tolerates me when I am full of myself who wants me to be all of myself by myself, someone who smiles and admires – someone I get to watch, listen to, someone I get to explore and more, someone I get to learn from, someone I get to teach, someone to hold on to because we want to – not because we need to, someone I admire, someone I smile at, someone I smile about just because she lives, just because she is alive, jus’ cuz on account of how she wuz, how she is
safe doesn’t work for me, safe has not led me to great experience; marriages, divorces and other trials of life make my cautious, not ‘risk averse’ but at least wary of the unknown, cautiously skeptical about the uncertainties of all the things that might happen beyond my control or, worse yet, all the scary things that might happen – but each scary thing is not a bad thing – each time I/we confront a fear, an old demon or a new one, we often risk more standing on the sidelines than we risk being on the field of play
life, or how I’ve lived it, has brought me many challenges – but few have been so daunting as to make me afraid; my fears today are all wrapped up in this ‘I fear missing incredible opportunities, incredible people, incredible experiences in my life because I was not alert to them when they arrived . . ‘; sometimes, we can catch a blunder or two before they turn into losses . . the win-win is a moment to be savoured
a toast, to moments worth savouring with people worth savouring – some for only a moment, some for a long time, some even longer
Mark Kolke
223,368
201.8
July 20 responses
An old beau from 6 years ago.........suddenly popped up and wanted to revive things........I think it's going strong, How about you???, Still enjoy reading your musings..........have recently changed by email address. LR, Calgary … P.S. I still read your 'musings" but sometimes they tend to get a bit windy.....
©2007 MaxComm Communications, all rights reserved.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
July 19 responses
Very well written -VBL Englewood, CO
©2007 MaxComm Communications, all rights reserved.
between yesterday and tomorrow - Thursday, July 19, 2007
18C/65F(high 29C), rained, stopped, rained, stopped again; very scary black sky in the west earlier has melted; routine walk with Gusta, our minds off somewhere sunny, she follows her nose, scatters pigeons while enjoying the post-rain freshness
AW and I are playing golf on Sunday morning– looking for 2 golfers to round out a four-some; anyone care to join us?
a balance sheet, a photo, a frozen movie frame – each is a portrait of a moment in time, never to be repeated, never to be captured again because each day brings change, however minute, that will change the outcome; if my day was this movie, I’d be skipping through the opening credits – a few key characters, a large supporting cast and thousands of extras – the movie will be epic length – the kind where you need to visit the bathroom first, then hunker down with a bucket of popcorn so we don’t miss a precious minute of it; roll opening scene . .
impulse, gut reaction, instinct, first impressions; then the action – life, a set of experiences, not a path; paths are things we set out on, but rarely follow - impulse, gut reaction, instinct, first impressions - how important are these, how accurate are these, how reliable are these indicators - should we bet on them, should we bet the farm?
we do, don’t we?
major decisions –whether we made them after agonizing sleepless nights of reflection or by deliberating 10 seconds – the results, good or bad, can be traced back to those first impressions; Malcolm Gladwell’s ‘Blink’ addressed this . . so do we all when we encounter these decision points where the course of our life might be altered as a result; when I sit down to think about whether or not something will change the course of my experience, I think that means it already has – all I am doing is trying to put words around a choice I have already made; sometimes my choices are sound, sometimes downright goofy; sometimes clear headed – sometimes wrong headed; but they are mine, not dependant on anyone else’s choice
other characters in this movie get to write their own scripts . . make their own choices, ones that might be so incongruous with mine that I cannot understand them or ‘my wildest most beautiful dreams coming true’ - the end of the movie will be a ‘write your own ending’ scenario
choosing colours we put on our canvas are important decisions I suppose because they are driven by the images we have in mind, by choosing how much of ourselves to put on display - a dizzying prospect
best way – my theory at least, I try to practice it – is to be who we are, plainly simply without restraint; this will scare some people, this will send some running for cover as they should because that is what they need to do, but others might come running toward me with arms open, minds open . . . spectacular when it happens, but life is no less spectacular when it doesn’t but would it not be a shame – when we feel what we feel – to hold it back, missing the opportunity of having people know us for who we really are?
whether we lead or follow one another doesn't mean having different paths mean anything - I imagine paths intersecting as spectacular fireworks, but when I imagine sets of experiences overlapping, then I feel like I am warmed by the sun; awareness, being in the moment, being present – being real – is what we do when we are caught between yesterday and tomorrow
Mark Kolke
223,392
200.0
What do you think? Join the discussion - your comments are welcomed - please write.
To subscribe to Mark's Musings daily email distribution, write to musing@maxcomm.ca
©2007 MaxComm Communications, all rights reserved.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
July 18 responses
Touching and feeling; Body Braille.
Touch was our first Language
It came before sight
It came before hearing
Touch will be our last Language
And touch, always, always tells the Truth
- Margaret Atwood
I can reach out my hands and touch the broad shoulders of my brother and know his strength. I can reach out and feel the worn hands of my father and know his weariness. I can reach out and touch the tired wrinkles of my mother and feel her failing. I can run my hands down the silkened back of my lover and know her Passion, "T" Here at Home, WT, Calgary
©2007 MaxComm Communications, all rights reserved.
looking back - Wednesday, July 18, 2007
16C/61F (high 29C), tires humming through water and thunder, not a dream, awakened me, sounds of rain down drain my morning music; the park around the lagoon silent, occasional shore birds twitter impatiently, Gusta wanted something under the rocks way-too-much for her own good . . birds worm-fest-feasting along our way
discussion happens sometimes, but so often discussion is timed – take turns time – story telling, but here and there the snippets of an idea slip in or out like a condiment; not the main course, neither desert or appetizer, but tossed on, added in, sprinkled . . like a little cheese or fresh ground pepper; adding flavour, taking away nothing
when expression matters - it always does - not verbal, impossible to disguise; a meal is not a meal if it is just food because then it is just food; the meal is the deal, the deal is the meal and when done, we are filled with many things - not fast food, not full meal deal
satisfying appetite is not extinguishing hunger – tactile – touch it, let it touch you; it is texture, it is street light illumination of everything that lurks in any dark place; an experience where a hug is not touching, but when I get a hug I feel touched a little; talking is just talking but when I listen I sometimes feel touched, when I eat I feel fed, but when I am fed I feel nourished – this has nothing to do with dinner, it had everything to do with dinner
moving slow, running behind - rather, walking slowly, savoring words on tongue, vowels and phrases stimulate palate; I slept well and fast, my scampi rested on a risotto pillow in a tomato sauce slurry, spinach salad mattress firmly beneath – crème brulee topped it off; the whole mix drizzled in coffee and memory of dinner at BonTerra last night where waiter visits were punctuation, whoops, hollers and laughter at nearby tables were paragraph breaks, enjoyment played out on faces – birthday pals, hugging co-workers bidding someone farewell or post-movie night-cappers visiting – all around us until all were gone
thinking . . ah, thinking . . is not what you think, but another version of story telling because we tell people what we think, we write what we think . . when in fact we are only describing what we say, what we’ve said and what we are going to say next
thinking, feeling, story telling – all look the same, so maybe they become the same; like a good meal they can be nourishing or, like a bad experience, they can box us into a corner, pigeon-holed, labeled, parked, stuck, un-free; blend them all in a shake and dinner would be a 10 minute coffee, but layer upon layer 4 hours slips by without noticing
story telling is story telling, feeling if feeling, touching is touching; we confuse these often – like confusing the cart with the horse, so easy a mistake to make because they look so much the same
touching is physical, touching is demonstrative – hand on a shoulder, holding up, holding on, seizing day or opportunity, hand in hand, hand in glove, hand in this, hand in that; metaphors all around discuss touching where touching does not happen; significant too as feeling words, words of feeling, telling how we feel . . all about feeling when what is really at stake is nothing; we live in a world where talking about feeling is just that – talking; feeling is an emotion, not talk, feeling is the expression of something guttural, something felt in the solar plexis or frontal lobe, not a sentence put on a page or recited in the context of ‘let me tell you how I feel’, like courses on a menu
restaurant reviews should not be about the food, the chef, the ambience; or about a menu however artfully painted with Tuscan phrases, obscure ingredients and rare touches, because few people really care what herb graced a protein floating in some consommé reduction; simmered, stewed, sautéed flavour sealed and served a la whatever does not create an experience to remember; who cares that mussels in season and beautifully described were not available – mussel memory will draw me back again
mirrors, side-view and rear-view mirrors, as we look back the fine print tells us what we see may be larger than it appears
looking forward
Mark Kolke
223,416
201.0
What do you think? Join the discussion - your comments are welcomed - please write.
To subscribe to Mark's Musings daily email distribution, write to musing@maxcomm.ca
©2007 MaxComm Communications, all rights reserved.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
July 17 responses
©2007 MaxComm Communications, all rights reserved.
one lept off - Tuesday, July 17, 2007
17C/63F (high 29C), it will be very warm again tonight; sunny sky, more haze than yesterday, crews have reduced the lagoon level – Gusta noticed – so it is quite a drop, 8 ducklings huddled on a rock awaiting parents return, one duck lept off, the rest followed, paddling, choosing when to follow, who to follow, when to go straight, where to turn
ducks in a row, thoughts organized, things figured out, plans made, plans laid, plans to plan - connections we make with people . . seem to connect like trickles that flow to creeks, creeks overflow banks spilling into new ravines, carving new paths before finding their way - invariably reaching some ocean somewhere, the flowing slowly and gently eroding rough edges of everything it passes – like those ducks, it is hard to notice any day over day, week over week impact – but time, experience and direction wear the path smooth and easy flowing in due course, our illusion of our duck organization often intact, paddling in search of direction
instinct causes steering, less inspiration – more gentle hand on the tiller helps navigation when I’ve been too distracted to notice or care, focused less on direction, focused more on shifting gears on something sporty, accelerating through the next hair-pin turn, exploring rolling landscape, taking time to feel the heat waft over me, the experience impact me – the after-play of choices made in a moment, made yesterday, made a long time ago
when we are young, the path still far from clear, edges are rougher, flow less smooth, ultimate
route incalculable, less fear, more leaping - vacationing #2 daughter Krista breezed through town yesterday; dinner with her, my dad and her new-beau was a great little treat to round out a full busy day
inspiration comes, sometimes, from bold thoughts, brilliant quotes or a big event of the previous day – more often it comes from a gentle thought of floating between the place we’ve just left and the place we will land next, the place between ditch and road where holding up, holding on, driving ahead, opening a big sail to gather an accumulation of wind forces taking me where I want to go as heat rises, day breaks - today leads somewhere
choosing which new shoot of growth to nurture, which one to prune – every day a million mini-choices enough to drive Frankl to distraction – not every path or inclination is for us to explore deeply with abandon, some for Frost’s kind of ‘another day’, I choose life with me – confusing as it might be sometimes - choosing direction, choosing a dog, choosing when to lead, choosing when to follow . . what to follow . . who to follow; when to go straight, where to turn
the notion we are like dog breeds we choose (or was it the people dogs choose?) may have merit; some are golden retriever types which might only mean we have some similar tastes – or maybe we are cosmically aligned in other ways; some are lap dog people, some lean toward hound dogs, some prancing poodles, some bound through life like the flow of an Irish Setter, coat rippled by the wind running through field of green; to KC and others who wonder about Au, or ‘ah’ prefix for Gusta; she certainly is golden; naming her was a challenge many of you might remember – Augusta, golf’s-Mecca and first given name of my mother and of her mother, August is my birth month, gust is derived from the Icelandic word gusta which means a spurt of wind and, as I researched it, Gusta is a fairly common name/nickname in Europe . . generally associated with a beautiful woman; having found those commonalities, that seemed the right name for a beautiful pup who has morphed from chic-magnet pup to pretty young girl who likes and licks everyone excessively, directionless, leaping
heat rises, gotta run
Mark Kolke
223,440
201.0
What do you think? Join the discussion - your comments are welcomed - please write.
To subscribe to Mark's Musings daily email distribution, write to musing@maxcomm.ca
©2007 MaxComm Communications, all rights reserved.
Monday, July 16, 2007
July 16 responses
Hi Mark – re today’s Musings. How can you have Gusta without some of the “Au” included? That lettering is the Periodic Table of the Elements symbol for pure gold. Based on your musings about ‘Gusta, I am convinced her authentic name is “Augusta” and either the Au is silent or ‘Gusta is just a contraction just like Ken is for Kenneth. Please clarify – enquiring minds want to know, KC, Edmonton
©2007 MaxComm Communications, all rights reserved.