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DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20251204
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20260101
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CREATED:20251211T024742Z
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UID:5963-1764806400-1767225599@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding  12/4/25
DESCRIPTION:  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \nDecember 4\, 2025 \n  \nKim Stafford shared this poem by David Budbill: \n  \nSometimes \n  \nSometimes when day after day we have cloudless blue skies\,\nwarm temperatures\, colorful trees and brilliant sun\, when\nit seems like all this will go on forever\, \n  \nwhen I harvest vegetables from the garden all day\,\nthen drink tea and doze in the late afternoon sun\,\nand in the evening one night make pickled beets\nand green tomato chutney\, the next red tomato chutney\,\nand the day after that pick the fruits of my arbor\nand make grape jam\, \n  \nwhen we walk in the woods every evening over fallen leaves\,\nthrough yellow light\, when nights are cool\, and days warm\, \n  \nwhen I am so happy I am afraid I might explode or disappear\nor somehow be taken away from all this\, \n  \nat those times when I feel so happy\, so good\, so alive\, so in love\nwith the world\, with my own sensuous\, beautiful life\, suddenly \n  \nI think about all the suffering and pain in the world\, the agony\nand dying. I think about all those people being tortured\, right now\,\nin my name. But I still feel happy and good\, alive and in love with\nthe world and with my lucky\, guilty\, sensuous\, beautiful life because\, \n  \nI know in the next minute or tomorrow all this may be\ntaken from me\, and therefore I’ve got to say\, right now\,\nwhat I feel and know and see\, I’ve got to say\, right now\,\nhow beautiful and sweet this world can be. \n  \n—David Budbill \n* \n  \nFrom “The Marginalian\,” an online journal: \n  \nHere we are\, living these lives bright and perishable as a poppy\, hard and shimmering as obsidian. We know that they are entirely improbable\, that we bless that bright improbability with each flash of gratitude for it all\, that if we pay attention closely and generously enough we are always repaid in gladness\, that it is the handle of the door to the world. And yet over and over we choose to live in the cage of complaint\, too preoccupied with how the will of life betrayed our wishes\, the wanting monster always growling in the other corner of the cage. \n  \nImagine parting the bars and stepping out. Imagine waking up with a rush of gladness at everything we were never promised but got anyway — trees and music\, clouds and consciousness\, the cobalt eye of the scallop\, the golden fan of the gingko\, the alabaster chandelier of the ghost pipe. \n  \nIn our age of competitive prostration\, this is a headstand hard to hold for long. But it is trainable. It is possible to become strong enough to be tender\, it is. \n  \n—Maria Popova\, editor of “The Marginalian\,” November 23\, 2025 \n* \n  \nI’ve been keeping a journal more-or-less daily for 55 years. Sometimes it’s fun to revisit things I’ve written. This is from last Spring: \n  \nfriday\, april 25th\, 2025 \n  \nthe conventional way of looking at perfect moments is that they happen once in a while \nthey’re brief \nand then they’re gone \nand we’re back to boring everyday humdrum life \nbut it’s possible to experience perfect moments as having nothing to do with time \nthey don’t have a beginning or end \nyou could say they last a lifetime—or that they are a lifetime \nthe beauty of humans overwhelms me!!!!!!! \nit’s getting ridiculous! \ni don’t know what to do with it\, or how to communicate it \n  \nsaturday\, april 26th\, 2025 \n  \nyesterday\, i watched “the accountant 2” at the laurelhurst theater\, from 4 to 6 \nit was a beautiful sunny spring day \nafter two hours in a dark theater\, under the spell of a movie\, when you come out and it’s still daytime\, the sunshine seems brighter and everything more vivid and somehow more real \nyou’ve been immersed in an imaginary reality—under its spell—and now you’re in the actual world \nas i walked by the crema coffee house and the moon shot tavern\, lots of people were outside at picnic tables \nit’s friday\, they’ve just gotten off work\, the sun is shining and they’re in a good mood \na little girl of about 4 or 5 is running down the sidewalk toward me \nshe’s laughing as she runs \nshe’s the happiest person on earth \nher happiness goes right into me \npassing a food cart area\, there are lots more people at picnic tables \nand the sound they are making together is a joyous one \nand i have a feeling which is also a thought that people are so beautiful! \nand then the thought that moments don’t have boundaries \nalthough we are accustomed to thinking that they do \nand thinking that they are short \nand that perfect moments are infrequent\, and then quickly gone \nbut they’re not gone \njohn keats said \na thing of beauty is a joy for ever \nmaybe a reason that this quote became famous is because it expresses a deeper truth than mr. gradgrind’s facts: \n  \nChapter 1 \nThe One Thing Needful \n‘Now\, what I want is\, Facts. Teach these boys and girls nothing but Facts. Facts alone are wanted in life. Plant nothing else\, and root out everything else. You can only form the minds of reasoning animals upon Facts: nothing else will ever be of any service to them. This is the principle on which I bring up my own children\, and this is the principle on which I bring up these children. Stick to Facts\, Sir!’ \n  \n—Gradgrind\, the schoolmaster\, from the opening of Hard Times by Charles Dickens \n  \nthe way I was seeing and feeling and being when the little girl was laughing and running toward me and people nearby were in a glorious mood—that way of seeing and feeling and being is truer for me than the feeling i have when i’m reading the new york times \nin those boundaryless moments i’m alive! \n  \nthich nhat hanh says you can spend your whole life in a kind of exile from the present moment and miss your life entirely \nif you died and went to the pearly gates\, they’d look in the book and see that you haven’t lived yet—and send you back for another try \n  \nscientific and rational ways of knowing are not bad \nand they leave things out\, like imagination\, love\, beauty and meaning \n  \nto see a world in a grain of sand \nand a heaven in a wild flower \n  \na thing of beauty is a joy for ever \n  \n(maybe those romantic poets gave me a blessing) \n(maybe they changed the way i see and feel and experience the world) \n  \nif the sight of a tulip or a hummingbird goes into you deeply enough\, it does something to you \nit changes you \n  \nmy primary felt experience is that i am living in Paradise \n  \n—Johnny Stallings \n* \n  \nEarth Born Creatures \n  \nThe gravel parking lot smells \nlike oil\, the trash strewn woods \nback up the roadhouse to the creek. \n  \nA boxy banana-colored car \nrusts there\, sags a bit in \nchangeable late afternoon light. \n  \nThe long-waisted girl in torn jeans \npauses over her broom. Fantasy \nburns through her\, leaves a tired ache \n  \nfor pretty things\, clean lines\, shine. \nShe looks at her hands \nHer fingers not quite straight \n  \ncaught that way in the womb \nthey remind her that she is subject \nto time and accidents of fate. \n  \nA scrawny tabby steps out of shadow\, \nprimly wraps his tail round his feet. \nThey stare at each other. The girl blinks \n  \nthinks of comfort and laughs. \nThe cat imagines cornering mice. \nAn owl awakens hungry back in the trees. \n  \n—Elizabeth Domike \n* \n  \nHere are a couple of excerpts from two of Rocky’s many letters: \n  \nNovember 11\, 2025 \n4 a.m. \nDear Johnny & Nancy \n  \nWe all got the day off in here due to the holidays. We have a lot of holidays this month. Soon the year will be over\, too. I’ve been looking back a little in time & knowing 17 years is quite a long time\, it seems like it was…only a few days ago that I came into D.O.C. custody! I think it’s because time\, in our minds\, moves differently. In our minds we can slow it down\, or\, speed it up. We could freeze it as well\, if we wanted to. \n  \nIt’s a sad reality to think that I’ve spent ⅓ of the life I’ve been given this time around as a prisoner. I know that I deserved to serve this time. Without my life in here I would not be who I am now. That would not be good\, because I would never have met the people in my life that I love & who help make me who I am. I would never have gotten to become the man I am today. That thought just gave me chills. Those seeds of wild emotions—Empathy\, Joy\, Kindness\, Love\, Wonder\, Humility—that were scattered upon my heart\, mind & soul\, like someone scattering handfuls of wildflower seeds on a hillside is what grows inside of me. You two had a hand in scattering those seeds. I believe we each\, in our own ways\, help each other’s hearts to grow & heal in all sorts of ways….. \n  \nNovember 12\, 2025 \n4:27 a.m. \nWe had a conversation on the phone yesterday afternoon. It was nice to talk about many different things. We had talked a few days before about that! It’s easy to talk about release from prison under the circumstances. \n  \nOne of the things that stuck out to me was the peace that I get from waking up early in here. It truly is the only quiet time of the day. What I’ve been thinking about is that Kim Stafford does that & his dad did too. The fact to me that really rang a bell was how he came by doing it. He started doing it in a prison camp! \n  \nPrison is not a place where most can find or have a second of peace\, most are overwhelmed by frustrations\, sadness\, hopelessness and misery. All those emotions & vibes come off of them & touch and trigger emotions in others\, even reaching the staff sometimes.  I found that if I start my day as early as I can & meditate in my writing\, do my letters to home & do my school work\, my days are most of the time started on the Golden Path. Everyone is still sleeping and none of the negativity is in the air. I love starting my days off before the world comes to life…. \n  \nAlways planting good seeds in the World\, \nRocky \n—Rocky Hutchinson
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