When it comes to L O V E, many of us can tell tales of woe but how many can regale with tales of triumph? And, I do not speak of conquest, as some may think.


You see, we have to analyze without analyzing, deconstruct without destroying upon observation and/or reflection, contemplation if you will. Factors I offer for consideration on the subject are: loving – being loved – being in love – loss of love, the fourth being one that of which many are familiar.


Of course, you have the many types of Love, but those apply only as a component of the four and do not stand alone. Therein lies the rub, being alone from having experienced the four; and, yet, still have Love in living as we go our merry way to our undoing. Nothing unfortunate/sad, just a Fact-of-Life.


And, so, I bid you adieu, until – we – meet – again …



Whimsically P C


Our goal was to acquire provisions by an excursion to Publix, a food emporium a short drive away, and this was accomplished. However, once there we experienced an intermingling of human-energies by chance encounters there and back again.


After parking, heading toward the food emporium I noticed a raised hood with a young man focussed on goings on under the hood. We continued on inside. A shopping cart acquired, my sister and I separated seeking out intended purchases. I rendezvoused partway with her to fulfil our mother’s request for a red onion. Turning to avoid a cart nearby, I had a near miss with an elderly woman who had parked her cart near the red onion stall. We exchanged kind words and continued our separate searches as intended.

Shopping completed, payments made, we returned to our parking space. I noticed the same young man with his car hood still up, as I passed him by. I decided to inquired as to the situation of his focus, whereupon he requested assistance, if a had a booster-cable. I inquired of my sister, if she there was one in her vehicle, and she did. Upon seeing the type she had he expressed doubt of it being effective, as he’d had a prior experience with the type she had. This remark went over my head, as I had never heard such misgivings before.


I took note of the location of his battery, and looked to see where our auto’s battery was located. I revealed that placing our cars side-by-side would facilitate easier recharging, and we pushed his auto into that position. The length of the cable determined a second try to put our vehicles into the proper proximity. As it turned out, my sister’s booster-cable was less than effective, as he suspected, and he went to ask a nearby driver just about to exit to ask if she had a booster cable. She did.


Acquiring the other booster-cable, we connected their terminals onto their respective positions, which proved successful. Upon packing up our cable, he returned the other booster-cable to its owner, an elderly lady. It was then I noticed it was the same elderly lady with whom I’d had my near miss earlier on the inside the grocery store. We greeted one another, again, and it was then he revealed he had been there three-hours before I whimsically inquired of his goings on which turned into an assist experience.


I wondered if his ethnic appearance was a determining factor? Fact of the matter, we are all ethnic of different origins- the elder, European; he, Latin; I, Caribbean. On this occasion our paths crossed without incident benefitting each according to our needs. Cost of this exchange were kind words with kind intentions, my kind of whimsy.






In continuing with my reflections on observations of the quantum ‘Butterfly Effect’, I offer this: Private Intercept, with benefits I have yet to ascertain.


Three years prior to 1983 I met a woman whom I loved; subsequently, and unexpectedly proposed marriage. During that phase of my life, I was quite the energetic, carefree, hyperactive individual unaware of personal deficiencies, as were many others, my betrothed included. The marriage was brief, to say the least, and we separated after three-months. It is said, we learn through others and I had much to learn looking back these many decades.


Our separation spanned 1983 to 1986; and, late in 1986, our divorce was finalized. It was during our separation that I had chances for intimate-interludes which presented more marriage characteristics than did my matrimonial choice. It became evident, in hindsight, that I was learning how deficient my interpersonal relationship reservoir had been. Decades later, it become clear what was meant upon recollection of all that many had said about me. I was “Not the marrying kind”! Many had exclaimed this to my face, while I denied this exclaiming I was. Granted, I doubt I could imagine what was being said in my absence. Little did I know or realize, or anyone else for that matter, we were both correct for different reasons.


During my formative years, I had rare nurturing in the fundamentals of family settings. Afforded the opportunities, I was one who had usually chosen to be on ‘walkabout’ to commune with Nature. By so choosing, I acquired minimal interpersonal relationship experiences when they were served up. My younger sibling was more exposed to such opportunities and was able to garner nurturing that afforded her more interpersonal relationship skill set. Communing with Nature was a path I had chosen allowing me to survive as per gender expectations, according to the societal infrastructure of that era.


We are all afforded choices through our multi-layered biases, whereby we sink or swim according to decisions made, their accompaniments whether or not taken for granted on instinct/intuition, and/or modified by Providence and our actions.


Have you observed anything untoward occurring in your life, with any comparable rippling effects thus far, this year? Hope springs eternal, not necessarily as ‘the eternal sunshine of a spotless mind’.




O – U – T …


Whether or not it’s recognized and/or accepted, a common understanding that abounds in society is, the only Constant in Life is Change providing these tenets:

Observation – Understanding – Transmission


Life experiences from childhood have taught me to not expect anything in particular, be they good and/or bad. Never have I acquired what was desired or expected without dire consequences as accompaniment. These aspects did sour, never sweetening wants but have ever demonstrated the folly of human aspirations. Through them all, however, I did my utmost to maintain an equilibrium, a balanced view if you will, going forward as Life progressed day-to-day/moment-to-moment.


Here are samples of my Unusual Happenstance that tailoring my mind regarding my desires and expectations.


In September 1963, I experienced an unusual trauma as a grade nine student exposed to trying out for the game of football for the first time. Later that month, it was the world that experienced an exceptional and incomparable trauma in the assassination of a favoured US president. A coincidence of course, some would say; nonetheless, it offered something of a rippling effect that appears as a quantum theory, Butterfly Effect.


Decades later, in January 2001 another dual trauma, on the personal level. In January I received notice, while working, that my father facing was imminent death. He passed while I was en route to his side. While undergoing the dramas surrounding that unexpected event, a feeling occurred in me. I felt this was going to be an unusual year, the fiasco ongoing in the US political scene aside.


Later that year, also while at work, there occurred chatter in the halls of planes flying into the Twin Towers, in New York City. Like many others I was in disbelief, in spite of what I saw unfolding on television. The date, September 11th. The day went on, and I entertained the thought that it was an elaborate prank, the level of an Orson Wells, ‘War of the Worlds’ broadcast. Of course, what I believed was far from actuality. I awoke the next day to reports and repercussions of my disbelief. Global reality had actually been altered.


I feared yet another ripple, Butterfly Effect, in keeping with my unease in the passing of my father. No probable connection, but one never knows what’s unfolding in the ether. I ask you; how is your frequency featured on the Richter Scale of Life as you go/grow?



B l a c k i e


Once upon an earlier time, before Donnie’s blacksmith encounter, there occurred a long remembered outlier experience.


Earlier day’s experiences were uncertain, and lost to memory. He does recall climbing flights of stairs in the company of his mother, younger sibling, mother’s female friend, and Donnie’s beloved dog, Blackie, he led on his leash going into the night.


He remembers the wooded structure having three flights, coming to a door where they entered and spent the night. The night must have been uneventful, as it ended early, all retiring to restorative sleep for the coming day.


Their morning routine took place without incident, as all got dressed to meet the day’s incoming events. They exited the room and proceeded down the three flights of stairs, with Donnie noticing they were minus one, Blackie. On this observation Donnie inquired, as Blackie was nowhere to be found. A courteous and, trite explanation was offered along with the need for a hasty exit. The explanation tugged at him, as he repeatedly looked for his beloved friend.


Later, the truth was revealed, which dealt a heartfelt blow. Blackie did not run off, escape in the night while they slept, as he was told earlier. In fact, he had done his canine duty of protecting the family while they slept.


Someone had crept up the stairs overnight, attempting some intended nefarious deed, Blackie interpreted. He leapt from his post by the door, forgetting he was leashed, scaring off the would-be assailant. In so doing, Blackie was complicit in his demise. He hanged himself; thereby, ending his own life pre-maturely and unceremoniously. Their ad hoc story was offered to soften the revelation to follow later in the day, as Donnie’s mother felt the truth would be too much for his mind to bear upon waking.


Oftentimes, we seek the truth to a fault, when what is revealed is a trauma most effectual and long-lasting. Although, none too pleasant, the truth is better than fiction in the end, come what may. And, come what may did and is another story altogether, albeit still not the end.



Once upon an earlier time there was a boy, just shy of his sixth birthday, who lived on a tropical isle on the Caribbean Sea. This boy, we’ll call him Donnie, had an exciting life. He awoke each day from a night of sleep of pleasant dreams and, at times, bed-wetting discoveries. His days were filled with wonders, often from habitually wandering about, and other conditions not of his making. He was to discover much later, not that much was his to control and made no difference save resource references in conversation. And, there were many circumstances outside his parental providers control.


Upon waking, his practice when no one noticed, was to wander off towards a favoured path which led to the sea. As it turned out, this day marked the beginning of an excursion he was to repeat on his way to his quiet observation of the seashore, until he relocated to another part of the city.


He took the opportunity to leave his dwelling, while the attention of his mother was on his younger sibling and household chores for which he was not needed. Down the steps, along the walkway and pass the gate he walked. He turned eastward along the main roadway until he came upon an oft trodden pathway, south toward the seashore. Along this pathway he heard an unfamiliar sound which kept a rhythm that increased in volume as he approached to pass toward his destination.


The sound came from behind a rather high and thick foliage, and he used his hands to part the hedge in order to peek at the origin of the sound. He was tasked with making sense of what he was seeing; something new and unexpected. What he saw fascinated him. There, under a canopy was a man working a lever that forced air from a large-sized bag through an opening that made a fire roar from below in a pit! One hand worked the lever and the other held a tong with a piece of metal embedded in the roaring flames.


Watching this action for a time, he saw the man remove the tong from the flames showing a glowing red-hot piece of metal. The man let go of the lever and picked up a hammer, and placing the red-hot metal on large black-shaped metal block, he began striking the red-hot metal into a flat shape which he then placed back into the fire, a bed of coals, and repeated the lever action as before. He repeated this pattern of action of a few more times. Each time he doused the red-hot metal into a barrel of water, which gave off a sizzling sound, before placing it back into the flames.


During one of the man’s actions, another sound drew Donnie’s attention to what appeared the reason for what was taking place. He had to wait for the revelation, as it was not yet apparent. After much reheating and hammering, a shape began to emerge befuddling young Donnie. He had no reference in his previous experiences for what was taking place. Being curious, he stood transfixed at what this man was creating. To this metal creation, the man added holes to use with other forms of metal he had already created.


Assembling these pieces of metal nearby, the man went to get the origin of the other sound Donnie had heard earlier. He brought it slowly into the light to where he was labouring; a fine looking horse. There he proceeded to apply the shaped metal to the bottom of a hoof of the horse. Standing with his back toward the horse, he took one of its hooves between his legs. He placed long pieces of metal between his lips, while holding the horse’s hoof between his legs, and with one hand he placed a newly made metal horseshoe onto the bottom of the hoof, and with a hammer in his other hand he began his task.


Donnie watched as the man affixed the metal shoe onto the bottom of the horse’s hoof, securing it with one nail at a time taken from between his lips. All the while Donnie wondered how the horse felt about this dressing. Not a whimper or neighing came from the horse; and, after the last nail was driven into its hoof, Donnie noticed one nail protruded through the top of the horse’s hoof giving rise to another bit of curiosity. But, without a sound coming from the horse, it became apparent that things will not always go as intended and it was a case of ‘much ado about nothing’.


Slowly and quietly, Donnie eased his face backward from between the parted foliage, leaving it as it was before. He continued on his journey toward the seashore, the clang-clang-clang diminishing behind him, bearing in mind he has to pass this place on his return. As it turned out, there was no noise-making which implied a meal break, or the end of that task-at-hand, and Donnie meandered to his waiting mother and younger sibling.


Donnie would repeat this journey a few more times before relocating from this area. Each time he passed that way he looked forward to the visual/sensory experience, the process of the blacksmith forging metal creations amidst clang-clang-clang sounds. They made an indelible impression in his being. This amazing happenstance, which he later remembered as one of his many childhood happy accident memories.



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