Comments, pro or con, are always welcomed and most often published the following day under COMMENTS RECEIVED. Please use the FEEDBACK/COMMENT form at the bottom of this page or send direct e-mail to: mark.kolke@maxcomm.co
SPLIT, OPEN
Sunday Oct. 2, 2011
this column written and published from my residence in Cranston (SE Calgary) near the Bow River valley
On weekend mornings I find Ihave time - perhaps my readers do too -to listen to some music. I choose pieces I like that connect, in some way, to my mood. I hope you enjoy these:Sergio Mendes/Brazil 66 Goin’ Out Of My Head , Holly Cole Que Sera Sera , Paul Anka My Way , Edith Piaf Non, Je ne regrette rien , Johnny Nash I Can See Clearly Now
Morning walk: 2C/36F, clear, cold and calm, nothing but blue skies; fresh in every sense of that word, rested (stayed up till 2AM watching election results) – Gusta happy to be out for a romp, however late, to sniff out treasures in the deep grass, under fallen leaves.
Whole big day, waiting - to be split, sectioned, parceled off into work|play|write|cook segments while the stock pot is already brewing harvest vegetable soup . . .
What are my chances, what are the odds?
50/50?
Or better than that?
Can’t content myself with que sera, sera.Can’t.
My life-movie may have started without me, playing in my head – sad songs, and glad songs, there is no end to my beginning because I feel, in so many ways, that I’ve scarcely started to write. To learn. To live. To love. To be.
I invite you, come be with me, combine with me, my muse, my delight, come join me some day, some night . . . love of my life, you’ve not knocked on my door – where are you?
Let me show you, get into my head, inside of a mind – mine, let me see the inside of yours.This is all I want, ever, in knowing someone is to know how thoughts play out – as if I was watching an artful dance or a performance.Poetry, motion, emotion.Let me paint you a picture.That’s what I want.The two-way kind.
Monsieur sends his regrets . . .
So easily we use this word to excuse our failure to show up, to bow-out from commitment made.I had two in one day last week. I regret having to do it. I’ll miss two events I wanted to keep on my calendar . . . but I have a bigger fish on the other line . . .
Actually, not a fish and there is no line – but there was a decision to make the trip, have the meetings and plunge headlong into new adventures that made pulling-out of two other events so difficult to do.One was an invitation to an important function that won’t be repeated, the other an opportunity to speak to a group where someone else will go in my place – and I’ll do many more.
So easily we do this – change our mind, change our plan, change our direction; flying without a net sometimes, flying Icarus-esque too close to the sun . . .
Living without regret is a strange concept.So often we hear the phrase ‘no regret’ and we admire Paul Anka’s tune the Frank did so well, ‘regrets, I’ve had a few’ or Edith Piaf’s deep hurting.
What poppycock nonsense, to live life without regret.Like driving a car without a rear view mirror – regret is, and should be, in our every day.It might as well be part of our DNA.Regretting mistakes is not the point – but realizing the mistakes, so regretfully, changes behaviour.
I’ve regretted losing the same five pounds so many times – I ought to have them mounted like runner-up trophies on a mantle.
I’ve regretted things I didn’t do sooner – or wait later – to do; I’ve regretted not admitting my regret.
I cannot be all I want to be without acknowledging all I am and have been; I regret not being more thrifty with money and, at the same time, I regret having not been more generous of spirit, more generous with time.
I’ve regretted not winning – many times – but so many times, that masks my regret for having not truly entered the contest. Just as lottery winners are always among the group that actually bought a ticket, one cannot win at anything if one does not compete, does not try, does not leap or fly . . .
Some words offer interesting thought moments, when we type them wrong.
Split . . . or spilt.
I sit one, or the other?
Mark Kolke 309,116 P.S.:went to see the new cancer comedy movie (really!!) called 50/50; it spoke about chances, about odds, about life, about living, about hope, about fear. It depicted Vancouver as Seattle (poorly) and a couple of the characters were lame, but those were easily forgiven in favour of a deeper message worth hearing
Comments Received: OVERCAST BUT NOT GLOOMY Responding to cloudy without a speck of gloom! (not quite a quote) It seemed you were so discouraged for a bit..then something turned your boat about! May all your hopes be realized in this glorious day! Today Mozart and the Eagles I think! Bounce in your step smile in your heart!I've not a clue what it might have been. Just hang on to the current of updraft...what ever might have caused it and ride it till the end! Perhaps the beginning of a fine new chapter of life..ripe for your tasting. Hold on to it.. What ever the cause for the change grab it with both hands...tangle your feet about and don't let go! Who would think flying a kite could bring such lift!, SJ, Evanston, WY Great post today Mark.It is always too late to change the past. Never too late to redirect the future. And starting today – that’s all I can do! I’m excited to hear about your new adventures. Mine are just beginning – and yes, I did it! But I can’t announce it yet, LG, Calgary, AB
Comments, pro or con, are always welcomed and most often published the following day as "COMMENTS RECEIVED". Please provide your FEEDBACK/COMMENT below, or, if you wish, send a direct e-mail to: mark.kolke@maxcomm.co
