The Secret Life of Blogs

Derek paused at the men’s store window and frowned at his reflection.   Two women strolled past him, nodding their approval at his tailored suit, well-chosen tie, perfectly coiffed hair, and smart shoes. Catching their reflection beside his own, Derek stiffened, tightened his stomach and pulled back his shoulders.   His frown deepened, accentuating the faint lines around his mouth and across his forehead. He checked his watch and took a sharp inhale. His mouth slid to the side into a smirk as he turned away from the window and across the sidewalk toward the subway entrance.   His nose wrinkled subtly at the air wafting up from the heat of the underground. He took a quick, shallow breath and descended the stairs. Derek looked around as he exhaled slowly.   Standing well behind the other passengers, he silently judged them.   This one homeless; that one out all night in the same clothes she’s wearing now; the other taking a break from a 3-day stint o...

"If you sit very still, you'll see the stars looking back at you," Grandma said. "And if you sit very quietly," she continued, "you'll hear the very air moving around you."    She was magical to me.  She showed me the magic of the universe. So I sat, as still and quiet as a 9-year-old  Buddha, next to my grandmother under the tree on the hill.  I sat with my legs crossed and hands folded, the cool night air settling around us on our thick Mexican blanket. I closed my eyes and counted to a magical  three .  “What do you see?” she whispered. I opened my eyes and the everywhere-lights astounded me. I felt surrounded by them, enveloped by them. I saw them near us on the ground, and I saw them in between the softly fluttering leaves of the tree.  “I see some stars blinking at me,” I said. I see others glowing gently, and others shining hard, like they want me to notice them.”  “What else?” she nudged. “I see…..  Hm...

The mountains are calling and I must go. (John Muir) So reads my bumper-sticker So go I must   Walk the talk Clear the cluttered air Get fresh thoughts The trail will lead me on To new vistas Fresh perspective Dive into strong, bold nature Departure from strong, bold cops Too quick with their batons Too brash with their tear gas A soak in a mountain lake is what I need A curtain of trees surrounding me Shields shoved in reporters’ faces  Their backs beaten with clubs Maybe I’ll spy a bear cub Or a bald eagle           Flying over the peace-keepers Helicopters relay the news Send the command: Push forward! Push them back! Blistered backs Beaten heads and bloody hands Scraped and smashed fingers  Swollen and blistered feet from hours in shoes Proud scars from scrambling up trails The ecstasy of pain...

Cool water cascaded onto his throbbing head.  He leaned back into the steady flow and released a long slow exhale. He squeezed his puffy eyes shut, but that seemed to intensify the throbbing, so he opened them, allowing the water to stream directly in, not caring that he couldn’t see. It felt good, relieved some of the lingering burn, even. He’d never been hit with pepper spray before. Never been clubbed on the head with a police baton before, either.  First time for everything, he almost chuckled, but didn’t. Lifting his fingers into the water, he tried to clean the dark reddish-brown stains from the edges of his nails. Then he massaged his temples for a full, slow minute.  Gradually, he moved his fingers to the back of his head and gingerly touched around the swollen wound. The pain pulsated under his touch. Nope, he thought, not going to touch that for a while.   He wondered how he’d be able to sleep. It felt like the entire back of his head was an open...