Tuesday, August 31, 2021


            In my youth, I was taught that it is important to ‘grow up’ and gradually learn how to ‘act like an adult’, but now, in my 79th year, I understand a different truth – that ‘growing down’ is actually the best way, the way of wisdom. It’s good to get younger as you get older. If I was advising fellow elderly folks, I would encourage them to grow down, and to truly live, as best they can, like a child. In one of his most shocking – and wisest – statements,  Jesus told his followers that, if they want to enter ‘the kingdom of heaven’ – to feel the pure joy of life – they must become like little children. I now think that what he meant was that they must accept the fact that they actually are little children – actually are innocent, inexperienced, and naive  – and that they should rejoice in that fact. Perhaps that’s what I mean when I say that we elders must learn to ‘grow down’. We need to realize that we actually know very little – that life is a constantly astonishing and mysterious miracle, and we should gaze at it – as a toddler does – in absolute amazement.  Like a 3-year-old, I should live today in a state of continuous wonder and surprise. I should understand, at all times, that I truly understand almost nothing – that life is a non-stop, wondrous, and pleasurable puzzle, and that I should simply revel in it instead of trying to ‘figure it out’. Like a child, I should trust this miracle called life, instead of – like most adults – trying to grasp and control it. And, like a child, perhaps, today, I should leap and skip sometimes, and chase seagulls at the beach, and stare in astonishment at the simplest things – ants on our patio, toast on my breakfast plate, a pen beside me now as I type like a lucky little boy at my desk.

(about Sharon Z., 82, Blessings, CT, USA) 

Sharon loves to sit just about anywhere.
There is a grassy space beside 
the sidewalk where she sits and sees 
the stores rising up at sunrise. 
She sits on the steps of the library 
because ideas reside inside 
and she listens
for their whispers and disputes. 
She sits on the childlike earth 
as it slowly rolls, 
as the sunshine brushes away worries,
as the rain runs kindly along. 
Feeling the fullness of life,
she sits on the floor at the nursing home, 
in silence, as her skin 
stretches with satisfaction. 


Monday, August 23, 2021


         It’s reassuring to remember, at the start of each day, that the entire day will be praiseworthy. Every single occurrence – every sight I see, every thought that presents itself, every breeze across my arms – will be commendable. Even situations that seem repulsive – some shock, some frightening incident – will, in some perhaps concealed way, be worthy of praise, since they all will contain a quiet but wide-ranging kind of wisdom, just for me.  It’s like treasure lies in wait for me in every golden moment, which is all of them. 

         The coming hours will be exemplary in countless ways. I had best be ready to bow and receive and praise.  

a poem about Bill M., 87, Blessings, CT

He used to love to answer questions 
with excellent answers, 
but now he responds with questions, 
especially "Who knows?",
and he loves those two words - 
since who knows 
where wind comes from? 
and who knows 
if the sky has an end?  
and who knows 
when silence started?
and hey, who knows 
who he or she really is?
and who knows 
if all power isn't present 
right here and right now?  

Bill now knows 
that he truly knows nothing, 
and that's why he loves saying
"Who knows?" 
and then smiling.