Zen And The Art Of (Fill In The Blank)

I'll begin by stating that Zen is not a religion. There, my Christian friends, your excuse for not reading further has been removed.

While Zen derives from a school of Bhuddism, it has been descrived as "a total state of focus that incorporates a total togetherness of body and mind. Zen is a way of being." It is also a manner of perception, in which the viewer is tasked to see the subject (whatever that may be) for what it is, and not merely the viewer's biased projection reflected for the sake of the viewer's egocentric perception. Remove Self from your perception, and suddenly the world and all that is in it takes on a whole new patina.

An excercise: the next time you catch a cold, don't think of it as "I'm sick," observe it from an outside point of view. Note the host and the invader(s), how the two intertwine and compete for control for the several days you'll be affected by the cold. Note how the balance of power shifts and changes. Only after overcoming the virus should you recall that all this drama took place inside your body. And you'll have a mountain of facial tissues to prove it.

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Regarding Keeslyn

In January 2020, a young lady named Keeslyn Roberts disappeared from a fuel station near my home. The case remains unsolved. This post will examine the actions, and lack thereof, of those in authority, and how this contributes to the case remaining unsolved. But first, a little backstory. As a teen, I lived in the same neighborhood as the Roberts family. Keeslyn's father, Eric, is older than I, and I don't recall the two of us having much interaction. His sister, on the other hand, is the same age and we've been friends for over 40 years. It was she who told me about Keeslyn's disappearance and the family's frustrations with the lack of police action. To learn more of the specifics of the case, numerous podcasts and news stories are available online. To my understanding, the police reaction to the disappearance has thus far been little to no reaction. After no word from his daughter for several days, Eric went to the fuel station where her car was parked. He th...

Visiting Alice

Savannah, Georgia is one of my favorite cities. Younger than London, older than San Francisco, with a degree of quirk rivaled only by New Orleans, Savannah is a six hour (if Atlanta traffic is agreeable) drive from my home in the northwestern corner of the state. Comparing my region with that of Savannah is an exercise in futility; they are worlds apart. One is lower Appalachia, with rolling green hills and valleys, creeks and waterfalls. The other is coastal Georgia, low country, wetlands. Even the cultures and accents are sufficiently different as to make a new acquaintance appear surprised when they ask where you're from and you reply "Georgia." Something neither place lacks is ghosts, but you probably knew that, didn't you? View this YouTube video by Dixie After Dark for a bit of info on Georgia's first ghost, Alice Riley. I love writing about Savannah. I can almost see the Spanish moss and smell the pot of low country boil!

The Willowdale Bridge

During my childhood, when I-75 was a divided four lane and Highway 41 was still the main road through town and smaller roads snaked over and between the hills, the Willowdale bridge crossed Mill Creek along one of those side streets. That is, until The Day The Truck Tried To Cross. On that day in the late 70s, a truck driver tried to drive too large a truck over too small a bridge, causing a collapse and putting the truck in the creek below. My dad insisted we go have a look, so into the car and on the way we went. It was quite a sight for my young eyes and the memory still feels fresh. My wife, who lived nearby, remembers the event well, as I suppose all who saw it did. Willowdale is also the site of a train derailment many years ago. Here's the story as told by Norman Blake: The bridge was decommissioned long ago and has fallen into disrepair. A walking trail has replaced the road, but the remains of the bridge still stand.

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