The Traveler

Have I spent my whole life looking for a place to live?

I so like to travel. It’s more than the green grass feeling. It’s the something’s there I need to see before I die feeling. Can I possibly live a full life in one place? Can I have life, a full life moving all over the place like I do?

I need more life, more lifes, more lifetimes, more life times, more time, more times.

I want a chance to be Nelson Mandela and Mother Teresa, Betty Crocker and Tom Peters. I want to be Donald Trump and Princess Diana. I want go live in a cabin off the land. I want to live by the beach and sleep on the sand. I want to live with every one of my friends. I want to live in another country in a tiny village and ride a bike everywhere I go. I want to be a gardener, a gymnast, a piano player, a mathematician, a poet. I want to direct music videos.

I want to sleep in a king-sized bed with a seatbelt on an airplane.

I want to live in the highest, highrise in the biggest, busiest city. I want to be a recluse and reflect on deep, long thought with lovely music playing while I drink hot chocolate and write. I want to have a personal shopper, a driver, and a minder. I want to follow my own path and walk off into the sunset and never have to worry about good byes.

I want to be simple and complex. I want to be open and mysterious. I want to be a grownup and a child.

I’m just like everyone else I guess.

—me strauss Letting me be

Beautiful Solos

It’s 4am. I’m up. It's not that I can’t sleep. I’ve discovered morning—the early morning before anyone, before the sun. It’s the beginning. It’s the start. The day is clean like new snowfall where no one has yet walked. It’s a church and a cabin in the woods. It’s immediate transportation to my childhood. It’s a magic carpet. I can be inside my head, I can fill the space I am in with my thoughts, my imagination, my wonderings.

Thinking long thoughts is like deep breathing or stretching wide and tall with a yawn. When I put the music on to write, I understand creativity. I hear the rhythm of life. No conflict interrupts me. I have the luxury of time. I can play and write, write and play. My fingers can tap and dance across these keys, and those words can sneak right past my internal editor to find their way to the screen.

The self conscious and the selfish need tight spaces to thrive. The stressed and cranky need to be pulled tight. The awful, the painful, the feeling sorry for myself slink away. They don’t like all of this blissful space. They fade away when I have room to think long and deep and wide. The big thoughts and the funky music get me typing in tune and in time. I become the music. I know joy, especially when I’m living in the middle of it.

If you want towrite a better song, give yourself the space to think those long, deep, and wide thoughts. Then play your heart out.

Some songs are for orchestras. Some are for string quartets. Some are for rock bands.

Some songs are beautiful, magical solos played in the early morning before anyone, before the sun.

—me strauss Letting me be

Only One Step

One step followed by another
One request answered, then another
One friend who shows up and another
One idea, one improvement, one movement
Things are changing for the better.
It’s one thing after another.
We’re doing it together.
It would have been faster.
If I hadn’t been afraid of that one step

—me strauss Letting me be

Hard to Believe

What if what I belief is the real thing? What if what everyone believes is true for each person? Instead of perception being reality, what if belief is reality. Imagine.

I know that believing in myself makes things happen. I know that when people believe in me I get better than when they don’t. Belief is a powerful potion.

Plenty people believe in sad things, bad things. It would take some time to convince them that there are better things to believe, that they had a choice. Would they choose to make powerful choices that hurt other people? Would they believe in a world in which the bad guys win? Would their bad guy believe overpower my belief that we all could be free to sit under the white oak by the riverbank in my backyard?

Or would it be grade school again, where one kid ruins it for everyone?

Would it be the classic good versus evil story we’ve already got?

I’d like to believe that it wouldn’t work that way. I try to imagine.

It’s hard to believe.

−me strauss Letting me be

Risky Thinking

It’s not about failing. I rarely do that. Either way every day is a brand new one.

I like the challenge of proving that I can make it through the roadblocks, over the mountains, under the fences. I usually find ways to learn the answers, worry out the secret chances. Most of my friends would probably say that I am the archetype challenge taker. I love a challenge. I have no fear of failure.

I know when things are right and worthy, even when others stand in fear of them. I understand the ground, the climate, the competition, the systems, the hidden opportunities, and the subtle differences. I see the patterns. I feel the atmosphere. I know how to commit to a mission and never fail to get folks to advise me. Challenges are motivating and inspiring where I live.

But how do I feel about risk? I wonder.

Taking a challenge and taking a risk are not the same. Are they? A challenge is all about moving forward. A risk is about not moving backward.

A risk is not defined by failure. It is underlined by cost. Risk spells out the words, I might lose something that I value. I might give up something that I can’t recover. I might find I am without something that I love. I need. I want. A risk is a defining moment. It means letting go of an attachment.

I suppose I’m bright enough to turn a risk into a challenge. Then again, I wonder.

If I only take on challenges, will I ever learn the lesson of the risk taker pushing the envelope, finding the edge of the universe, defining a personal purpose? Can I risk at 30,000 feet and still fly with a safety net?

If you never risk, you never change.

It’s knowing the risk that fits your calling, feeling the detachment that releases your spirit that shows you know where you are going.

Would a risk of that nature be a risk at all? This risky thinking is a challenge.

It’s not about failing. I rarely do that. Either way, every day is a brand new one. Maybe there is no such thing as risk when you follow your instincts, learn the answers, worry out the secret chances, know the risk that fits your calling, feel the detachment that releases your spirit, and listen carefully to your heart.

−me strauss Letting me be

25 words: Floating

Laid flat
floating, fragile

friends listen

I slowly spin circles around myself
pushed by the slightest breeze

they know

I'll be back
bringing the sun.

− me strauss Letting me be

Once again

Once a few months ago, I stilled myself and sat here so quietly. I willed myself out into space, to feel the verses of the music and to see the beating of the drums that hold the universe together. I went it for me, for you, for everyone who needed to be. Space was calling.

Space is such a lovely word. It fills my mind with breathing. It fills my soul with thoughts. It fills my heart with sounds. I’m filled with silence, then laughter.

I like laughter. I like thoughts of laughter streaming though the stars and over the planets. I love the image of my heart healing as I take in the cool, cool, night and all its secrets in the deep, deep hollows of the twist and turns of worm holes. I like thinking about the stars that have yet to be born and become red giants of the universe.

Give me a nebula to climb on. Whew! I could feast for years on the color.

Imagine the colors. In the space of my dreaming, I color adventures with colors that even my crayons have never seen. I could touch the vibrancy and make vibrations that moved in rings like water, see the shimmering sensations of the cosmic dust that flutters off the planet as I kick my feet up in a dance of pleasure or I move the tiniest twinkling star to have the tiniest smile for me.

Once a few months ago, I stilled myself and sat here so quietly.

Tonight I play among the colors and find the space I need to breathe.

And once again, everyone I know gets nicer.

−me strauss Letting me be

Riding a Bike

A rest, a stop, a chance to quit pedaling so fast. Why do we keep pedaling? Why don’t we set our bikes aside for a while? We could sit in the grass to watch the sunset. What’s our hurry? Would we lose so much? Would we really give up so much time if we just stopped to catch our breath in the sunshine?

Isn’t life about knowing when we’re pushing too hard? Isn’t what I’m trying to learn about me? How do I find time to rest and know that resting is being alive entirely? I know I knew that once.

I knew that when I was a child.

Stop pedaling, You are wise.

All children fall asleep when they are tired. Why don’t I?

They say you never forget how to ride a bike. I think I’ll start learning again.

−me strauss Letting me be

Creativitiy

Before the idea will see me. I have to cross through the jungle. Sounds are muted, but nagging — think this, think that, bombarding. The mind hangs heavy. The vines entangle. The trees keep the light from reaching me. I wander distractedly from tree to tree, thinking one must hold the answer, knowing the work is in the wandering, knowing the thoughts are still illusions. All parts of me must participate before the mist gives quarter.

Then slowly one thought has a friend that shows itself to lead toward another. I begin to see color. The color turns to words that tell me what the thoughts are trying to say.

It is forming. Edges come slowly into view. I close my eyes and close myself off to the sounds, the sensory intrusions to let the concept have its way.

I wait with patience and belief.

The mist burns off to reveal an idea simple and whole.

—me strauss Letting me be

The Mist Beside the Pines

I close my eyes. I turn my self, my eyes into me. I find the mist beside the pines. Under moonlight, near the trees a lake awaits. It waits for me. It’s still. It’s deep. It needs no shelter. I love to see the way it shines. I love the way no one sees me. No empty words, no shattered promises, no false touch echo through the hills. Only truth pouring pure as water shines in the silver sky light this night.
No one could enchant this magic or create this place. My feelings are free and my thoughts slide off me into the beauty of the mist beside the pines.

—me strauss Letting me be

In the Stars

The first star breaks through.

A beautiful voice so sweetly releases me from my mixed-up, moving mind. A deep chord raises from me. I leave behind the broken thoughts that tied me to this steadfast ground. The echo of the night sky is my cool, my safety. I am clear. I am a thread of being once again.

Where would I be if there were only sun and no stars?

On the stars, I dream the dreams of my soft heart. With the stars, I give my faith and find my hope. By the stars, I know who I am held softly in the night. I am lightness. I am invisible and brilliant. I am kind.

I am released from the need, the need I can’t seem to shake when the sun won’t show the road to peace. I am freed of noises, nuisance, and ideas in my mind that rattle until I’m confused. I can give the things that people need and kiss away the things that hurt.

In the stars, I can sing. In the stars, I can dance on the deepest sea of the of black and with sparkling white. In the stars, I can write my name.

Heaven knows I am alive.

—me strauss Letting me be

Ups and Downs

Creativity takes my brain on flights fancy. The chemistry is electrical and freeform. The ideas are colors and magical . . . and then. Then I look again and they seem to be nothing. Misty and gone. Usual and mathematically normal.

It’s ups and downs, until then. A gem of an idea shows itself , and . . .
Creativity is joy being born.

--me strauss Letting me be

The Light

Yesterday was my dad’s birthday. If he was still on the planet, he would be today starting his 100th year as a person. I’ve been thinking about that.

Thoughts sometimes need thinking on my own, under the sky with nowhere to go. I took my keys, went down the elevator, and waited while the guys found my car in the parking lot. Then I headed out to drive south by the lake until I found out where I was going.

Those are the best trips, the one’s with the top down, the sun up, and the lake there beside me, with music playing. Today it was a mix of my favorites from college.

I hardly saw the things passing by me, until I realized that I was driving toward where my father grew up. I was on these strange Illinois back roads. It wound and turned and did everything a little car like mine loves. I, of course, had no idea where I was, except that cornfields of Illinois were all around me.

An hour later, I was at the stream, a small river really. It had to be "the stream." My dad had only told the story once and said not to repeat it. It was about how as a boy he saved another boy’s life. He said that’s why we bought cars three towns over. That boy had grown up to sell cars for a living. He and my dad never lost track of each other.

I sat by the stream and watched a snake go into the little river. Fifteen minutes later, I saw a turtle come out of the water. A few birds came by to check out who I was, but they didn’t find me as interesting as I found them.

Eventually, I moved on and ended up on the rollercoaster road where my dad took a short cut. It was the famous shortcut that took two hours longer. I remembered how much my brothers and I loved it, and how much it didn’t impress my mother.

I ended up in a village I’d never seen. The remarkable thing was a church too large for the size of the stores and the houses. It looked like it belonged in Europe, in Italy, not Illinois. I figured some Immigrant's son must have built it. The explorer in me couldn’t resist an old church. My car brought me to on an adventure. I tested the door, and with all of my weight, I got it to open. I went into the quiet. It was quiet.

Inside it was even more European. It so reminded me of my dad’s handwriting. His European work ethic. His deep feelings. I sat inside it as if in his heart.

A light shined in. It filled me up.

My car had found the perfect destination. I stayed until the light faded.

I got in my car drove back on the rollercoaster highway, laughing to think of how my dad shared his life with us, how he soften my mother's rough edges.

Life and light are the gift of a saloonkeeper’s daughter.

−me strauss Letting me be

A Place to Stand in the Sky

I’ve always been afraid of heights. I’ve had the strangest thoughts. My fears been with me since I was so small. Maybe that’s why my thoughts are so skewed, so really literal. I don’t think about falling. I think about losing my shoes. I think they fall off my feet and end up away from me. I’ll be up here and they’ll be way down there.

It’s a silly thing. I know that. Still I worry about it, even now I do. Getting on airplanes, that little space of air, I look up and ahead, because I need my shoes. It’s the same way when I’m getting on elevators. Some of it is, I guess, I’m sure I’d manage to lose only one. Then folks would know, for sure, that I had made the mistake of getting too close to that little space, that space where the shaft of the elevator goes down to my doom.

Sitting on someone’s deck, I have the same problem there. I keep my feet and my shoes well tucked under me.

Yet now . . . something different is happening. I’m working on something exciting, inspiring. It's scary. I’m looking to find a place to stand out on a cliff, because I want to. I’m metaphorically looking to peer off a mountainside, testing all I have to reach for a dream. I’m actually asking myself to stand tall high in the sky. I’m challenging me to admit who I am.

It’s like standing on a precipice, knowing I haven’t quite found my feet.

What am I doing? Isn't this why I don’t like high unenclosed places? I don’t know what I might do if I lose my shoes.

Yet the feeling is lightness, freedom, and joy. Something is telling me when you fly, you don't need shoes.

−me strauss Letting me be

Playing at Work

My imagination has taken hold of me and I’m starting to see a future, planning and hoping for something grander. I keep trying to move it forward, but the todays keep have their way in front of it. I don’t want to miss living in this moment, but I’m looking at a window of opportunity. I don’t want to miss it more.

So I slip a minute of future work in, and then I do what I supposed to. And while I’m working on what I need to, I think a thought about what I want to. In between the got to get dones, I imagine what I’m going to be doing. And after I finish the have to have this, I take a second for what if I tweaked the idea this way. Even the work I used to hate is starting to feel more like a game.

It’s funny how this whole thing feels like reading late at night under the blanket with a flashlight.

I should have started playing at work again, a very long time ago.

−me strauss Letting me strauss

The Local Store Is Open Again

When the old country store closed for the summer, we didn’t have any where to go. Yeah, I know he left us the keys. But it’s not the same without Scot around to say, I appreciate you stopping by. His soft voice, his storytelling. They’re just so Scot. You know what I mean.

I stopped by the old store a few times since he left. I wandered through looking around for old friends − a cat hair, a coffee cup, a yellow pad with a pencil and stray word laying around. I read a while, but left no comments. Seemed no point in leaving burden for him when he got there and started unpacking. Scot was coming back, after all. He said so and I believed, because believing in friends is what you do.

This morning the message came in a comment. I heard his voice. My eyes went wide.

Scot is back. I wanted to tell everyone and so I am.
He’s here again. He’s got a job somewhere in Texas.

The local store is open again.

Not that he was missed or anything. I just need some sugar and stuff.

−me strauss Letting me be

Postcard 1: Playing Fields

Everyone wants a level playing field . . .

or what they see is totally different from what I'm looking at.

− me strauss Letting me be

photo by jay v www.walkslow.nl

It's Thursday, Liz.

It’s Thursday, Liz.

That’s how the email started.

She said I told her once that every Thursday I have a meltdown. I do sort of. The web gets quieter. The world gets slower. I lose my bearings a little. I wonder about the weekend that’s coming. I think too much about where my world could be heading.

Maybe that’s because I think too much, or maybe it’s because I was born on Thursday.

But then she sent this email to me. She who has plenty of her own stuff, her own world of worries. She took a moment to remember there is a me on this planet. She took a second to see me. She made me a person.

She came along like a breeze, like a sun-kissed flower and simply said, “It’s Thursday, Liz. You told me once . . .” I started sitting taller, feeling smarter, knowing life was right. God is in his heaven and angels really are everywhere. I can believe again.

All in all, that makes a Thursday a special day indeed.

That's the power we can give away for free.

It's amazing really.

− me strauss Letting me be

The View

my eyes
filled
with my response
following
a path
of two drops
that wash
away fearful feelings
to place a smile
on my
self-image


your eyes
in my head
change the view

to the poet at knifegunpen

−me strauss Letting me be

Playing Jacks with My Younger, Older Brother

I learned some of my best vocabulary from my mother. She was using talking to my brothers, telling them to “stop that scuffling,” “no more of that nonsensical nonsense,” or to take their noisy problems “down in the hole,” which was our basement. Her turn of a phrase gave me an appreciation for the color and music of our language.

My mom also taught me big words in the same way. How many times she told my younger, older brother, “Stop aggravating her,” when he would tease me until he made cry.

Then he would say, “Kid, you turn the tears on like a water faucet.” I’d sure get pictures in my mind whenever he said. But, he’d stop teasing me and often he’d ask me to play a game with him, as some form of peace offering.

I was eight years younger. My younger, older brother was bigger, better at every game I knew. I never stood a chance at any game we played. It was hardly fair. After all, he taught them to me. On the way to set the game up sometimes he would already be telling me what I had to do when I lost. Of course, I’d do it. I was the baby of the family. I didn’t know any better.

Then I learned to play Jacks. Somewhere around 8 years old, we replaced the little, red rubber ball and five jacks with a golf ball and ten. That change afforded more control and a bigger challenge. At school we played Jacks at every recess, that was almost 2 hours a day, if we ate lunch fast. There wasn’t one of us who couldn’t get all of the way to the tensies of downcast double quickies, and even past that to the . . . I can’t remember what they’re called, but we would throw the ball up in the air, move the jacks, and catch the ball before it hit touched the ground.

One day when my brother offered a peace game, I suggested a game of Jacks. He met me in our concrete driveway. Needless to say that was the game I finally won. I won in two ways. I beat him at the game and I learned another great turn of a phrase.

“Kid, I swear you play with a square ball and loaded jacks.”

It’s a compliment that I still savor.

−me strauss Letting me be

Death Defying

Oh, the hours Denise I played on her swing set! We were about 7 and 8 years old. I can’t remember that we used the swings though.

We were the great Twirling Twinklers in the Starlight Circus. Ours was a swing set placed in the center ring. We flew high over crowds while they oohed and ahhed. We walked the tiniest tightropes on tiptoes. We did tremendous tricks that hadn’t been thought of yet . . . or if they had, no grownup would think of attempting them. The elephants and clowns all watched and wished they were us. We always worked together and never worked with a net. We knew exactly how high we could fly. Our hands never missed on that fateful catch.

We were the bravest, most beautiful, circus performers that ever were. We were legends in Denise’s front yard.

When Denise’s mom called in for lunch, we’d leave the circus swing set outside. The roaring crowds waited while we took our time. When we returned, they roared once again for us. They roared in every country, on every continent, in every corner of the whole world. It wasn’t even cold performing in Antarctica. We were that professional. We were that good.

The trust that we had in each other was frightening. The trust in ourselves was death-defying. We were two kids playing circus. Trust and belief were key our fabulous success. We knew that our glamorous life was made from them. Our routines were perfect and so were the stars that held the dreams in our eyes.

I’m going to find a swing set to practice my circus tricks. I want to believe the way I did then.

I like the idea of death-defying trust in myself.

−me strauss Letting me be

The Little Things

In the rush and tumble, in this July heat, its easy to lose focus looking through the humidity at the lakefront, seeing the sailboats. Gosh they look so cool, so relaxed, so away from everything.

Summer sunshine makes me tired, even as the days get shorter bit by bit. Like a cat I want to sleep away the weekend. I want to read a book. I want to keep cool and feel free.

I want to make the summer last forever. Blue sky, big and beautiful, stay with me. Please, please, please, please, please.

I want summer to last forever. I don’t mind the heat. I like warm weather.

So I skip my nap today. I take a walk. I look down. I see a flower. Flowers always capture my imagination. Then a lady bug helps me remember.

Joy isn’t just the big, blue, summer sky. It’s in the little things.

−me strauss Letting me be

Silver Lining

I didn’t choose to be an optimist. In fact, sometimes it scares me so. I guess that I was blessed or cursed. I don’t know why. I just don’t know.
I can’t help, but like to dance. I see the rainbows, not the rain. When things go bad, I try to make an adventure if I can. It’s what I do. It’s who I am. When I can’t then I’m confused and lost, and I find myself longing to dance and find some flowers to arrange.
I solve problems with the best of them. It’s not that I run away.
It’s just that my life is filled with silver linings and morning bring brand new days.
Some nights I wonder if that’s a little girl’s mirage. In fact, some nights it scares me so.
That’s when listen to the stars.
No silver linings up where they are.
They’re silver through and through.

−me strauss Letting me be

Blogger Poet

Words on air
connections
like stars talking
meet in space
out of time
curiosity
synchronicity
philosophy
faster, freer
just now possible
My words
their words
new and old ideas
feelings
thinking
spontaneous
generous
growing
community
who would
who wouldn't
be a part
click on by
communicate
ignore me

the world views itself
we view each other
I view myself
we are together
I am the same
I am different
I am not alone

I open my mind
I put down feelings
Let me be
I am a poet

−me strauss Letting me be

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For Anyone Who's Fallen

If I never fell down, if I never scraped my knee, or turned my ankle, where would I be now?

Every little thing that went wrong, every little problem I’ve encountered has been the fiber that has made me. It’s not been the good things that formed me. They are only the glitter. The petals of the flower that soon enough might blow off when a strong wind comes along.

What fun would life be without any fear of falling, without any risk or danger? It would be a walk down some smoothly, silky paved road that went on and on to nowhere. There would be no top, because there would be no very bottom. I would have no hills to climb, no potholes to walk in and out of. Music would be only so much sound . . . because dancing would come so easily, as everything would, if I never fell down.

Falling down is useful. It reminds me that I can still get stronger.

I like being strong, like a flower in the wind that holds tightly to its petals.

Standing strong for anyone who’s fallen to see a reason to get up.

−me strauss Letting me strauss

25 Words: Values

25 wds.

A moment,

a memory,

the return of a friend

reminds me that

I may grow and bend,

yet what I valued then,

I value now.

−me strauss Letting me be

Shining Back

I’ve burned my eyes trying to see beyond the fireworks in the sky. I’ve been driven and possessed by dreams and visions that led me, quests that called me to make the stars shine even brighter. I’ve reached and climbed to see what might be up there. I’ve even tried flying.

I could skip and wish I was running. I could dance and want to be a gymnast. I could sing and long to make the piano play. I could analyze, create, dream . . . write music with words and look for what was missing in the spaces. I could touch my hands to my face, and wonder what other people see.

Why do we need to come so far to figure out that we don’t need to try so hard?

All of our pain, our hope, our faith, our love invested in being . . . without realizing that we already are.

The stars make the finest fireworks without us.

Our role is to shine back at them.

−me strauss Letting me be

Walking with the Stars

No matter where I am. It can be anywhere, anywhere in the world. If I’m feeling lost and lonely, if I need to breathe, if I want to find myself again, all I need to do is go outside at night, walking with the stars.

In the city, in the country, on the cliffs in Cornwall, in the forest by a cabin, on the beach . . . in Italy, it’s the same. I think I’ll watch myself this time. It will be dramatic and beautiful, and then . . . and then . . . and then, there is no need to be anything.

My thoughts fall away. My feelings lift up to the sky. They go along with my eyes. I travel with them to Orion’s belt and sit with friends. That sweet, soft silence I feel there replaces the rushing worrisome, woes of living. A cool, clear concept of creation and a bounty of being comes over me. It is wonder and a wealth of space. I am calm. I am light. I am.

I am walking in the silence of the universe . . . with the stars.

The stars light this night as they light my life.

Morning brings the day I was born.

−me strauss Letting me be

Looking and Listening

You slowly become what you look at most.

I’ve been looking. I look for the things I want to be, people I admire and then I rest my eyes on them for the longest while, hoping that a long look might afford my spirit access to some secret, some song I see. Slips of being slide inside my simple self, that maybe for a moment make me a might more knowing, a minute more of who I am and where I’m going. Maybe I get to be a little more of what I am.

I’ve known that, done that for a while, years.

Lately I’ve started listening, more than listening, hearing really. I had no idea how much my life was telling me. It’s right here−all I should be knowing. People are telling me who I am. They say in their words, in their smiles, in their handshakes and thank yous, in the subtle tones and colors of their voices. I should have been listening, hearing, so much sooner. I should have filtered out all of the noise.

Imagine how quickly I could have been growing. I could have been seeing, hearing. I could have climbed mountains and when I got there, I could have broken clouds apart. I could have helped others see what the looking showed me, and what the listening said.

I could have been. I still can be.

−me strauss Letting me be

Let the Sun

No words
convey
the wonder
of the yellow
the brightness
of this feeling
no adjectives
no adverbs
entone
the music
of my soul
the lightness
of this singing
The color
the summer
the shimmer
the warm rays
in the affirmative
I simply nod
so speechless
no need

Let the sun.

−me strauss Letting me be