Every new book I see is a mystery whose key is simply to open up the spine and your mind and witness infinity's imagination which waits for your eyes in inky words on wood pulp behind the covers protecting pages like lovers whose stories bring glory wherever souls have listened, looked, felt and understood our universal language, energy, spoken, glowing token mending what's broken, a spirit awoken by new water and wind as the ball of magic love plays spins

I've learned I have 26 classes left at my school, which I began working for seven years ago

I wasn't planning on this number, although it's a day ahead of schedule

Creating art live

Waking up, sun on the water, shower with filtered lake water, oatmeal, blueberries, Greek yogurt, millet, barley, amaranth, quinoa, brown rice, buckwheat, oats, Irish breakfast black tea, smiling faces on the screen in front of me, reading about saving the whales, teaching new words to communicate thoughts from one mind to others, listening to speaking reading article about various places on our magic spin ball where people make it 100 circles around the sun's light source of life, walking in the forest with the blue sky and brown green trees surrounding me, listening to a former general and secretary of state saying that welcoming those from other countries is what makes America great, people from around the world sharing how they spent their 4th of July, driving on a mountain where my parents got married, writing and sharing favorite lines from book about the best leader in our nation's history, cooking beans and veggies and chicken and various whole grains while listening to the news giving more clues influencing what to do, getting more information to enhance the navigation of love from me to you, reading New Yorker/Atlantic writer's National Book Award story about various Americans' journeys' pursuing plenty of diverse pathways toward happiness and how our nation has been unraveling institutions for decades, riding to music and buy food, seeing the scenery, listening to my friend talk with intelligent humans about how we choose laws, filled the fridge, walked up and down the block past the neighbors to move blood and oxygen energy, running on dock and jumping in the water, swim, read more of the book, canoe with a local beer, enjoy sun behind hills and on mountains, historical island, birds flying, return, whiskey sitting above the water, reading quotes about the writing of the greatest leader as night comes, grilling locally raised energy to convert into more energy, Johnny Cash's 1st record, some chard and mushrooms, an IPA from Garnerville, NY I've been saving for 3 months because I bought it in Manhattan the first day of online classes and I wanted to save until summer, this beer has been with me the entire cabin living journey and this writing although the stars have been appearing for quite a while so it's time to smile and listen to sounds of the waves as you unwind from the day, enjoying some work and some play, gifts to celebrate

The United States of America

I am blessed to feel the freedom of seeing what I think was seventeen fireworks displays with the full moon reflecting yellow sunlight on the fresh waters between lands named in different languages amidst shadows of mountains and the island named after the general who won the battle which was a very important turning of the tables in the war for independence as a free nation of sovereign enthusiasm manifesting through new individuals, all while energetically paddling in a floating canoe, and am thankful for all peoples who worked as hard and hope as many as universally possible were able to enjoy life, exerting love energy to make foundations for you and me

June 30

When I was a year beyond graduation from her alma mater, we attended a ceremony to mark the life of my grandmother.  I was in a really positive mood that day.  I had just had a string of very positive, transformative experiences and was looking ahead to the promise of the future in the mind of a 23 year old guy.  On top of that, it was perfect weather, I was with my parents and my Uncle Al, and the preacher was a funny, kind man who had been good friends with my grandmother and had even traveled to New Zealand with my grandparents (at the behest of my grandmother, he'd talked my grandfather into the adventure by remarking on what great fishing they had).  We laughed a lot during the ceremony.  She'd had a fantastic long life, making it to 88, although the final decade had been painfully beset by Alzheimer's.  She left the world on her wedding anniversary though, just about two years after her husband.

What strikes me now is the picture board in the reception where there was a newspaper clipping from her retirement after a long career as a history teacher at the local high school.  The student recalled a popular class she taught called "Problems of Consumer Democracy."  She encouraged her students to put themselves in other people's shoes, and to go out into the world to solve the problems that pained her heart.  Many things are better than in her day, but right now, things are pretty iffy.

Who knows what will happen?

3 years later, on the same day, I arrived at the farm to greet my family in preparation for my only sister's wedding, having traveled abroad on my own for exactly seven months.  I began in India, went through six more Asian countries, then from China to Egypt, and then Germany and Ireland.  On June 30, 2010, exactly ten years ago, I rode the Amtrak train up the Hudson River to Rensselaer Station, where my best friend picked me up, and I gave him a slice of New York City pizza as a thank you.  We caught up for thirty-five minutes before we arrived at the head of my country road.  I walked the remaining mile or so, past the Christmas tree farm where I had my first job, then down a hill to the closest farm, then up a large hill with a nice view, before walking past the familiar fields and waving to my sister and her friends through the library window.

I live now in my grandmother's favorite place, where I used to bring her crispy s'mores up from the beach when she was sitting up here.  I haven't traveled abroad in two years, or had anything one could call a long journey in eight years.  I teach humans from various countries, mostly English, sometimes various problems of consumer democracy.  Anything which keeps them interested.  It's nice to have the connection with so many different people, but real human contact is scarce.  I traveled alone for seven months in foreign countries without knowing anyone or speaking the languages, but there were always other travelers.  Now my other travelers are on a computer screen.  Better than nothing.

At least the future looks brighter.  I saw friends for the first time in months about ten days ago, when we sat around outside a fire together.  I wish I could see people's smiles in public though.  I understand the masks, but depriving people of smiles is perhaps the hardest part of going alone.  I could count on a few smiles when I was traveling.

So far, life is working.  I've been to the doctor's recently, and I'm happy to have my health.  When I was in a funk earlier, mostly on account of the weather and sleep, I heard this song "Keep Growing."  The sun finally peaked through the clouds for a little while.

I'm reading about people who don't have it so well.  I suppose journeys taught me that all too well.

But journeys also have taught me to enjoy life when possible.  It's not always possible.  So when joy is ripe for the taking, with due and proper respect for those around, you may enjoy your gift of a life.