Posted by on Dec 5, 2012 in Reflections | 1 comment

There’s been a shut down in this house of all electronic devices for those ages 12 through 14 until some greater responsibility can be developed in key areas …blah..blah…blah. All that to say, I’ve enjoyed the increase in book reading around here. 

I’d been craving anyway a little more boredom for my man child, and wishing for him pockets of still time un-hijacked by mindless distractions. I know, I know too well how addictingly soothing it is to find rest from restlessness in fast and bright and ever-evolving technology. Teaching balance in this area to our tech-saavy children is one heck of an uphill battle for this generation of parents. So yes, I’m secretly relieved that it had to come to this: a cold turkey approach to surrendering for a season a strong aversion to being all alone with one’s thoughts. It’s been a wake up call for all of us. 

When the neighborhood boys came over this afternoon, football in hand, right in the middle of homework, right before dark, I shooed my son out the door. “Go!” I said, “Go outside and play, tackle, get muddy! Engage in the very  real (as opposed to virtual) world all around you. You can finish your math when you get back in.”


I could hear them laughing and trash talking while I stood at the sink. It was music to my ears – music nostalgic and stirring. More than anything I desire for my children to pay attention to the people, mysteries, opportunities right in front of them, and to act, throwing caution and convenience to the wind, when invited by that still small voice to “come and see.” 

- Joanie Mackowski


A momentary rupture to the vision:
the wavering limbs of a birch fashion


the fluttering hem of the deity’s garment,
the cooling cup of coffee the ocean the deity


waltzes across. This is enough—but sometimes
the deity’s heady ta-da coaxes the cherries


in our mental slot machine to line up, and
our brains summon flickering silver like


salmon spawning a river; the jury decides
in our favor, and we’re free to see, for now.


A flaw swells from the facets of a day, increasing
the day’s value; a freakish postage stamp mails


our envelope outside time; hairy, claw-like
magnolia buds bloom from bare branches;


and the deity pops up again like a girl from
a giant cake. O deity: you transfixing transgressor,


translating back and forth on the border
without a passport. Fleeing revolutions


of same-old simultaneous boredom and
boredom, we hoard epiphanies under the bed,


stuff them in jars and bury them in the backyard;


we cram our closet with sunrise; prop up our feet


and drink gallons of wow!; we visit the doctor
because all this is raising the blood’s levels of


c6H3(OH)2CHOHCH2NHCH3, the heart caught
in the deity’s hem and haw, the oh unfurling


from our chest like a bee from our cup of coffee,
an autochthonous greeting: there. Who saw it?