Are most people happy?

Most of my life I…

was? Was not?

Or was not, but thought I was,

until I really was.

Most days, now,

it’s just a given: I’m happy.

Even when most of the day

goes awry, clattering down

the black hole of distraction, or

“damn, that didn’t work out the way

I wanted…” Most times

I’m able to step outside the distress

and peer back through the window

at my life, and recognize

that it’s good.

A good life.

And isn’t that,

after all,

what I want

most?

[scs_alt]

PS — Pssst! Know someone who might benefit from seeing this today? Pass it on!

Oh, I see you now!

Spilling masks & costumes

as you rise, like so much dirt.

Brush them off your shoulders

& stand tall. No stooping

is necessary here,

no hiding.

Step into the light

so your brilliant facets

can sparkle & shine.

Slough off that old, ill-fitting skin,

Exfoliate, buff, polish.

Your tender core, under armor

for so long, is where your

true strength

resides.

[scs_alt]

PS — Pssst! Know someone who might benefit from seeing this today? Pass it on!

We have a conflicted

relationship, fame & I.

Its cousins, acclaim,

respect, impact

& reach, I lust after

wholeheartedly. But

fame? And its sister,

celebrity? They strike

me as frenemies,

not to be trusted.

Not a surprise, really,

that my pursuits have

always been ones

where even those

who reach the top are

still flying under

the radar. My dance

with the spotlight is

a jerky polka. Or

perhaps the Hokey Pokey:

put my left hand in, put my

left hand out, put my

left hand in, then I

shake it all about.

[scs_alt]

PS — Pssst! Know someone who might benefit from seeing this today? Pass it on!

I think about people who speak languages that don’t use definite articles,

and how one might even start to explain what they’re for.

When you stop to think about it,

languages are so impossibly complex.

Our ability to communicate ideas, thoughts, abstractions,

seems miraculous.

English speakers: try carrying on a conversation

without that three-letter word.

I’ll bet it’s one you take entirely for granted.

An unimportant word,

insignificant.

Yet conversing without it

may prove harder

than

you

think.

[scs_alt]

PS — Pssst! Know someone who might benefit from seeing this today? Pass it on!

Lucerne. 1982.

Walking alone because of some spat or another,

with brother, with mom —

who remembers now?

What I do remember is the crowd at the edge of the partk,

faces skyward,

the tilt of my own neck,

the way I caught my breath at the sight of the hangglider,

drifting in lazy circles like a great raptor,

back and forth,

back and forth.

I watched, mouth agape,

all arguments forgotten,

as over the course of 3o minutes,

the glider swooped & soared,

inching ever lower,

until finally,

gently,

touching down

on

the

lawn.

[scs_alt]

PS — Pssst! Know someone who might benefit from seeing this today? Pass it on!