I had a lie in this morning to think and reflect about my life as it was, as it is, and as I want it to be.  You know often I get moving into a space where I am so focused on obtaining something that I forget the simple rules of life.  What do I mean by that?  I mean I try to force things to happen.  I try to force the universe to move right now.  I forget how the law of cause and effect works and I forget how the law of attraction works and I also forget how to listen.  I stray from the path, my path.  And when I do that, then my life seems hard, or it seems like it’s going to collapse on itself, and I can’t see the forest for the trees.

But when I let go and relax into the path, then things start to happen seemingly with ease.

There are forces now that are moving and stirring in the undercurrent of my life’s path. These past couple of weeks have been riddled with signs and omens which up until Monday, I’ve chosen to ignore or pretend I didn’t see.  It is time for me to stop, listen, and learn.

Check out my new ascent video.  And if you’re feeling kind, please comment and rate it on youtube. Oh yeah, and share it with friends.

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My fellow poets and I have created a group called the Walking Wordsmiths.  We are participating in the Aviva Walk London to Breakthrough Breast Cancer.

On 8 September 2007 thousands of women and men will gather together for one challenge, to walk 44km through the streets of London, with the chance to make a difference in the fight against breast cancer.  We have signed up for the challenge of walking for Breakthrough Breast Cancer and committed to fundraising at least £2,000.

We would appreciate your support as we take part in this challenge, 44km for the 44, 000 women that are diagnosed with breast cancer each year in the UK.  You can help support us by making a secure online donation using your credit card.  Click on the link below:

Support the Walking Wordsmiths

For more information on how you can participate in the Aviva Walk London to Breakthrough Breast Cancer, please visit their site at:

www.breakthroughwalklondon.org.uk

Peace,

Clay

I was trolling through some old memories this morning.  All of sudden, I couldn’t remember who I was; or who I am.

Will the real Clay Lowe please stand up?

I was born Clayton Lamont Lowe.  But from the very beginning, Clayton didn’t exist.  My family called me Lamont.  Then Clayton appeared when school started.  Then I became two people; Clayton at school, Lamont at home. 

After I left home for university, Lamont disappeared and Clayton became Clay.  I don’t remember who first called me Clay, but the name stuck and I’ve been him ever since.  And now I’m trying to remember who Clayton and Lamont are.  Has anybody seen these guys?

btw…in Purple Haze, does Jimi say ‘excuse me while I kiss the sky’ or ‘excuse me while I kiss this guy’?

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Kirk Nugent is a poet with passion. If you have ears to hear, then listen.  And then go do!

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I thought I would have a greater sense of nostalgia upon my return to the Rock, instead I was greeted with ambivalence and massive piles of rubble. 

March is the month of Founder’s Day in which West Point grads celebrate the founding of the United States Military Academy.  The closest Founder’s Day celebration to me was in Heidelberg Germany.  This, I thought, was extremely good fortune.  I could kill three birds with one stone.  I could meet my long time friend Jeremy whom I served with at the Rock, I could re-visit the place I lived for three years as a young 2nd lieutenant, and I could attend Founder’s Day.

Not to concerned with our carbon footprint, Ruth and I booked a couple of flights to Frankfurt-Hahn for 2p each round trip.  The plan was to fly into Hahn airport, rent a car, and drive an hour and half to Frankfurt, pick up Jeremy and his wife, and then continue on another hour to Geissen to bed down for the night and go in search of the Dead Beat.

Driving on the autobahn is a fantastic experience.  It’s nice to be able to drive at the limits of your skill and the car’s will to go fast.  Ok, I know driving at high speeds is not good for the environment, but speed is king.

After we got settled into our B&B, we drove to Neiderkleen in search of the Dead Beat which was the unofficial name of the restaurant all the officers in our battalion adopted as thee place to hang out and break bread together.  The real name of the restaurant was Molise.  How it came to be known as the Dead Beat is a lost legend.  It just became a tradition of the unit.  When a new officer joined the unit, us older officers would make part of his induction a meal at the Dead Beat.
But it seems the Dead Beat met its demise when 3/5 Cav closed the post down and moved to Freidberg.  The Molise as we knew it was gone. 

A new restaurant stood in its place.  We went inside to enquire about the Molise’s fate, but none of the locals admitted ever knowing any such restaurant ever existed.  We got the suspicion that maybe they were just saying that so as not to chase potential business away.  Not to be deterred, we asked a passer-by on the street if he knew of Molise.  He did.  He said it had closed down 6 years ago, and had moved elsewhere, but he didn’t remember where.

We decided that although the name had changed on the outside, the spirit of the Dead Beat still lived on, so we eat at the new place and reminisced about the old times.

I couldn’t find my sense of the roads or make a connection with the place that had been my home for 3 years.  I thought coming back to the Rock would conjure up strong feelings of remembrance, but I just couldn’t feel anything for the place other than a vague familiarity. 

The next morning, we visited what used to be Ayers Kasserne or the Rock as we called it.  The Rock had been bought by a trucking company and basically turned into one huge parking lot with piles of rubble that were once the offices and barracks of 3/5 Cav.  We tried to bribe the civilian guard at the gate to let us come in and have a little wander as old soldiers who were once stationed here.  But he kindly explained to us that this was private property now and he couldn’t authorise a walk amongst the rubble.

 

 

We said our final farewell to the Rock.  I felt a chapter close on an historic period of my life.
The rest of the weekend was a bit of an anticlimax for me.  We drove down to Heidelberg for the Founder’s Day dinner.  The turn out was very small as most of the active duty officers assigned to Germany these days are deployed to Iraq. Still it was good to be in the company of old brothers in arms.  And it was good to get an update from the current Dean of Academics as to the state of affairs at West Point.  It appears the new generation of Cadets are up to some really great things.

It wouldn’t be a gathering of old Grads without at least one West Point Rocket cheer.  My table won a bottle of wine for the best rendition of the Rocket.

There was one hair rising moment.  It’s a tradition for us to pay homage to our fallen comrades.  When the adjutant read off the final roll call, I was awestruck at the number of young officers who have died in the Iraqi conflict.  A chill ran up my spine when the adjutant called out the name Guy Berrateri.

Guy was a personal friend of mine. I dedicate this post and the following song to him.

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I hit a bird yesterday, or rather a bird hit me. I was travelling back up the M5, going 90mph, when I heard this awfully loud crack. At first I thought a rock had hit the windscreen, but then out of my rearview mirror, I saw feathers floating in the air. I thought, ah I must have hit another bird.

Later when I pulled into the printers to pick up my new batch of business cards, I saw the most gruesome sight. The reporter in me wanted to take a picture of it, but the humanitarian in me said to be respectful of the dead even if it is just a bird. What had happened was the bird had impaled itself on one of the roof rack bars. I’m talking this square bar had gone clean through this bird’s chest. I literally had to cut the bird off with a spade, it’s guts and stuff spilt all over the side of my truck. Yuck!

If you’re one of them militant vegitarians, this video might help to strengthen your cause.  I haven’t tried the experiment myself, but as soon as I have the opportunity to slap some pork in a dish, I’ll give it a try.  But as you can already see, I do enjoy the taste of a good worm!

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This past week or so I have a huge demand on my intellectual reserves so there hasn’t been much time left over for blogging.  But no worries, I shall endeavour to persevere. 

I’ve been doing some research on African legends.  I thought I’d share a few of the stories with you.  Here’s one about Akiti the Hunter.

A FAMOUS hunter and wrestler named Akiti boasted that he was stronger than any other man or animal. He had easily overcome a giant, a leopard, a lion, a wolf, and a boa-constrictor, and as nobody else opposed his claim, he called himself “the King of the forest.�

Wherever he went, he sang his triumphant wrestling-song, and everyone feared and respected him. But he had forgotten the Elephant, who is a very wise animal and knows many charms. One day the Elephant challenged him and declared that he had no right to call himself “King,� as the Elephant himself was the monarch of the forest and could not be defeated.

Akiti thereupon flung his spear at his enemy, but because of the Elephant’s charm, the weapon glanced off his hide and did him no harm. Akiti next tried his bow and poisoned arrows, and his hunting-knife, but still without effect.
However, the hunter also possessed a charm, and by using it, he changed himself into a lion and flew at the Elephant, but the Elephant flung him off. Next he became a serpent, but he could not succeed in crushing the Elephant to death.

At last he changed himself into a fly, and flew into the Elephant’s large flapping ear. He went right down inside until he came to the heart, and then he changed himself into a man again and cut up the heart with his hunting-knife. At last the Elephant fell dead, and Akiti stepped out of his body in triumph, for he was now without question “the King of the forest.�
 

I want to go prowling in the wilderness to hear the voices of the siren’s call, to feel the pull of the stars, to prowl the spaces between and betwixt.  The night calls…

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(Picture:  a sketch I did from an advertisment for cars of all things!)

My girl’s a pretty girl
She is a city girl
And I’d do most anything
To keep her in style

My girl has a long long nose
Just like a garden hose
But I’d do most anything
to keep her in style

My girl has great big eyes
Just like two custard pies
But I’d do most anything
to keep her in style

My girl has a thin thin chin
Just like a safety pin
But I’d do most anything
to keep her in style

My girl has great big hips
Just like two battleships
But I’d do most anything
to keep her in style

My girl has no tits
just two bumps that look like zits
But I’d do most anything
to keep her in style

– an old army cadence we use to sing while marching

Maybe I just don’t get out much because I had no idea these things existed.  Or maybe I’ve just been living in England too long and need to get myself back across the Big Pond and find out what’s going over there! 

I like my coffee straight up – black, no sugar – coffee flavored coffee as Denise Leary once joked.  But thanks to my friend Becky, a girl in short shorts, I might have to rethink my whole concept of coffee and how I like it served. 

This is the thing that gets me all conflicted.  As an intelligent woman I should be deeply offended, when I pull into an expresso stand and am served by a bouncy bodacious barista in pink hot pants.  And if I was a totally straight girl (or a 1993 lesbian), I probably would have. read

Coffee will never be the same!

I attended the Professional Speakers Association meeting the other night and one the keynote speakers gave a presentation on purpose.  His theme was that we should live our lives on purpose not on accident.  He said the way to find your purpose is to align your true core values with your true insecurities.  Once you truly understand what they are you can begin to live your life in accords with your purpose. 

His presentation got me to thinking about my own purpose.  Yesterday I spent the morning really questioning my core values.  By doing that I came to understand that my core values are driven from my insecurities about myself.  The traditional rationale goes something like this:  if I be more of my core values, my insecurities won’t have room to show. 

But actually it’s my insecurities that drive who I aspire to be.  And by asking myself some tough questions as to why my insecurities are what they are, I was able to discover my purpose.

Animals are fantastic.  We can learn a lot from them about life.  When it comes to living on purpose the lion and gazelle story is a perfect example.  The story goes like this:

Every morning in Africa, a lion wakes up knowing that it must outrun the slowest gazelle or starve to death.  Every morning in Africa, a gazelle wakes up knowing that it must outrun the fastest lion or be killed.  You see it doesn’t matter whether you are the lion or the gazelle, when the sun comes up, you had better be running!

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“The chess-board is the world; the pieces are the phenomena of the universe; the rules of the game are what we call the laws of Nature.  The player on the other side is hidden from us.  We know that his play is always fair, just, and patient.  But also we know, to our cost, that he never overlooks a mistake, or makes the smallest allowance for ignorance.â€?  – T.H. Huxley

Life is a mind game.  How we play the game in our head, affects how we play the game in real life.  Your mind dictates whether you fulfil your potential or live your life forever hoping and wishing your dreams will come true.  How you play the game in your head is the difference that makes a difference.

Presumably the purpose of a game is to enjoy the experience or to learn from the experience in order to grow. 

We play many games – board games, video games, physical games, corporate games, and ultimately the game of life.
I think we get ourselves so caught up in the small games that we neglect the bigger game of life.

How good a player are you in the game of life?  Some of us seem to play the game better than others.  Is that down to luck?  Or do these people have a better understanding of the rules and have learned to master the game?

 

(Picture: a digital print I made called Savage Peace, click image for larger view)

Yesterday it was reported that abortions set a new record for one month in Britain.  Marie Stopes, which performs about a third of the abortions in Britain, conducted 5,992 abortions in January.  The question is why? 

Liz Davies of Marie Stopes thinks it’s possibly due to the festive season and all the excess partying and booze consumption.  All of which “combine to increase libido and lower inhibition, with the inevitable consequences of unprotected sex resulting in unplanned pregnancies.”

The British Pregnancy Advisory Service’s chief exec, Ann Furedi, believes the high number is due to “a difficult struggle to access proper services, rather than the results of women being careless after boozy office parties.”

Side note:  I did find it odd that this report appeared alongside of giant picture of Roselane Driza, the cleaner who was jailed for blackmailing a judge with his home sex videos.