Sunday, July 3, 2022 

         Today, like all days, will be constantly moving forward. Indeed, its life-giving, steady progress cannot be stopped. Each moment will move ahead with both vitality and peacefulness, bringing into view realities that have never before been seen in the history of the universe. It will be a day of continual advancing for everything, each person and squirrel and street and speck of dust becoming something fresh and newfangled each moment. All the moments will be totally forward-looking, moving easily ahead into unmapped territories. I guess we could say that this day, like all days, will be ‘forward’, like a brash young person is – bold and brazen, a valiant adventurer on the hunt for thrills and breakthroughs. 

         No doubt I need to be always on the alert, ready to accompany this shameless, audacious new day. 

Below are some scenes as we passed through Elm Grove Cemetery on our walk this morning …



Saturday, July 2, 2022 

         It’s wonderful, on this beautifully dark morning, to realize that today, like all days, will be wide-open. There will be no barriers to anything, anywhere, except those I create in my thoughts. This universe – this life I have always been part of – is totally unlatched and unfenced, ready, at every moment, to be explored and enjoyed. Each moment today will be a free and spacious gift for me – and for everyone. Each experience will spread out like a welcoming wilderness, and all I have to do is let go of worries and doubts, and depart on each adventure with cheerfulness. Thunderstorms are predicted in our town for today, and storms of new thoughts and feelings will also be beautifully unfolding all day long. Each hour will be like an unbounded store that’s open for business. I hope I can love the sightseeing and searching and shopping!     

Below, just a few of Delycia’s enchanting flowers in her early summer garden …



Friday, July 1, 2022 


         I believe, without question, that today will be perfect for me. Certainly there may be disappointments and difficulties, even sadness, but in the midst of whatever is happening – the closing of a car door, the tapping of my fingers on the computer keyboard, footsteps passing by – there will always be, without fail, the boundless and flawless present moment. A moment may not seem perfect, but, as the saying goes, each moment ‘is what it is’ and can’t be anything else – so it needs to be accepted and studied and learned from. What is happening right here and now undoubtedly can’t be changed right here and now, so my best approach to whatever happens today is simple acceptance. Then, I would surely have the power of unlimited presence with me as I move toward seeing adverse situations slowly blossom into peace and commonplace perfection. 



Thursday, June 30, 2022 

         Today, like all days, will hold me carefully in its friendly arms. I may sometimes feel adrift in a sea of concerns, but all the while this day – part of the life that started cradling me 80 years ago – will be safely enfolding me. Throughout the day, the present moment will always be with me, embracing me within its everlastingness, spreading itself out to its infinite distances so that I can feel the fun of having no boundaries at all. There will probably be moments when confusion may seem to be clasping me tightly, or when fear may appear to be following me, but always – always – the dependable present moment – life itself – will be enveloping me in its vast and trustworthy way. I may even sometimes feel the gracious squeeze of life as it holds me in its welcoming, inescapable arms. 



Wednesday, June 29, 2022 

         I often feel weighted-down by life, as if I’m carrying heavy piles of worries and duties and fears, as if life itself is a load that I have to lift up again each morning. Today, however, I hope I can feel, once again, the absolute buoyancy of life, as though my heart is an easygoing feather floating freely along in a universe that sincerely loves it. I’m sure I will, as usual, have problems to deal with and worries to work around, but my hope is that I can treat them like playful friends rather than cumbersome burdens. It probably seems strange than I can speak of problems as being playful, but when I approach them in an almost jovial way – as in “Hey, here’s a brand-new problem, another opportunity to see an amazing solution work itself out!” – the winds of patience and open-mindedness do eventually float the problems away. I guess ‘easygoing’ is another way I might describe this approach to life, not because life is always easy – far from it – but because walking with life and all of its problems in a relaxed and even-tempered way can often make the burdens slowly become almost like feathers. 

         Today, I hope I can let my life float free, the way it always wants to, and then I can just do my small but important part in the lighthearted – though sometimes strenuous – dance of all of life.   



Tuesday, June 28, 2022 

         This morning, I am hoping I will be able to recognize and appreciate the magnitude of the coming day – of each moment of the coming day. There will be immensity in everything that happens today. Even every breath I take will have greatness within it, and all the flashes of sunlight in the forest as we’re bike-riding on the rail trail will be brilliant beyond belief. There will be a marvelous radiance inside every thought, and all the feelings that flow through me will have a hugeness that I hope I can be aware of. Every turn of my head and all the ways papers and books and notes sit on my desk will be of serious significance. The soft, sheer curtains that hang beside our windows will have a special kind of importance, and my hand will occasionally rest on the top of my desk with dignity and prominence. Like all days, this will be a day of grand magnitude. Historic events will occur –  someone in New Zealand suddenly understanding something, a small child in Tennessee taking its first steps, my hands and fingers coming together in friendship. How lucky I will be to be present at so many momentous proceedings on such a prominent and illustrious day!    

Below, a quiet scene at the start of our 22-mile bike ride this morning with two friends on the Kingston (RI) rail trail …



Monday, June 27, 2022

         I have always tried to be a law-abiding citizen, but, in this very instructive eighty-first year of my life, I’m finally realizing that, in one sense, I have no choice in the matter. There is one law that I must obey – the most important law of all, the only eternal and shatterproof law. This is the law that says the present moment must be obeyed, because it is the only moment that exists, is without boundaries, and has all the power in the universe. In moments of clear thinking (which, I’m afraid, are still fairly rare for me), I realize that this law is indeed unbreakable. Each day, each moment, I actually have no choice but to obey this law – and why should I ever resist obeying it? This law surrounds me with comfort and fearlessness, reminding me that all is always well inside its reassuring certainty. It says that whatever is happening, be it scary or soothing, can be successfully dealt with because it is happening within the limitless present moment, where I also am ‘happening’, and therefore the situation and I can smoothly work together to unfold the wisdom it is bringing. As has always been the case in the history of human civilization, frightening events and situations – for nations and families and individuals – are occurring across the globe these days, and the only way to weather these storms is to meet them in the boundless present and roll with them through the troubles and toward wisdom and healing. It’s an unbreakable law: every present moment is large enough to contain both distress and restoration, both sorrow and understanding. I just need to recognize and appreciate this unassailable principle of reality.   

Below are some of Delycia’s beautiful early summer flowers …

and here are two healthy breakfasts ready on the patio table this morning …



Sunday, June 26, 2022 


One dictionary defines ‘panorama’ as an unbroken view of the whole region surrounding an observer, and my daily wish is to constantly enjoy a wonderful panorama of life. I am so often lost in the stagnant cave of my own thoughts, seeing only the mist and fogginess of fears and self-centeredness, and what I need is to get up to the high mountains of awareness and see the scenic view it affords. When seen from the peaks of true wakefulness, life is boundless and breathtaking, far too multifaceted and mysterious to be captured by my little and helpless ego-mind. Each moment and every moment, I can be witness to a view of life – the true ­view – that is picturesque and limitless and simply astounding, if I step up to the high peaks of awareness. They’re right here, right now, always – these beautiful bird’s eye views of reality. All I have to do is stop, stay still, and look – and be astonished. 


 Sometimes my good luck seems unbelievable. I’m neither wealthy nor well-known nor uncommonly gifted, but good fortune seems to follow me everywhere. I often, for instance, can’t believe the simple fact that I’m alive on an astonishing planet in an implausibly beautiful universe – that somehow this person called “Ham’ has been given hundreds of millions of minutes of this thing called life. The whole mystery of my life seems totally improbable, as if a magician somewhere in the everlasting cosmos made some swirls with her wand and, presto, here’s Hamilton Salsich. And my incredible good fortune continues to follow me in a round-the-clock way – my heart somehow holding its rhythm 100,000 times each day, my blood reliably rolling through my body hour after hour, my lungs lifting and falling in a steadfast way. All this, to me, seems so far-fetched – so deserving of awe – that it almost requires a down-on-my-knees, lost-for-words reverence. 


Below, scenes from our walk this morning on the Beebe Pond trail …

and our friendship poem for today …



Saturday, June 25, 2022

In these days of my retirement, I still have a somewhat busy life, and do a fair amount of ‘racing around’, but I guess I’m racing around more slowly and patiently — more willing, you might say, to good-naturedly participate in the race while letting the race actually run itself. On a given day, I’m going here and there and back and forth, checking off my list of to-do’s and to-get’s, but now I’m running a gentler, more warmhearted race. You might say I’m slowly racing from task to task, and with more composure, perhaps the way sparrows seem to collect their seeds at the feeder with both quickness and calmness. I’ve noticed that the wind sometimes blows on our street in a similar way – rushing among the houses, but in a somehow stress-free manner, doing its to-do’s with both enthusiasm and restfulness. As a senior now, I’m seeing the benefits in that kind of racing around. With my white beard and bald head, I’m breaking new records for getting things done with a cozy and patient kind of speed.


I sometimes wonder if I’m missing certain special signals sent to me occasionally from here and there. Yesterday I was watching a tree as it turned and bent and bowed in the wind, its limbs and leaves lifting and falling, and, as silly as it might sound, it seemed like the tree was sending me signals. It was like small messages made just for me: “Are you there, Hamilton? Are you truly alert and listening to the sounds I’m making with this wind?” Then I saw a seagull sailing in circles above the tree, and I wondered if there were signals there also. Perhaps the bird was sending from the sky the news that nothing is better than right now: “Hammy, happiness is inside you, right there where you’re sitting in the shade with a glass of ice water at 3:37 on a sweltering afternoon.” Then, in the next instant, I found myself listening to the sounds of cars on the distant interstate, and they sent – in soft, almost whispery sounds – the message that I’m an amazing mystery. “You’re astounding,” they said, “and so is this afternoon and everyone and everything.” It seems strange, I know, but I’ll be searching for signals tomorrow, as well. 


The sky stood up one morning
and made a signal to him,
like people might make
when happiness is molding them
into something thankful and fresh.
It was a September sky
with blueness so bright
it brought him permission
as he sipped his coffee,
and he signaled back
to the sky that he too
was happy and hoped
the sky and he
would stay that way.