Refocus

Update: 2017-10-23

Description

The Road Runner at Grace Farms is eye-balling me.

He was there before me, and he is intent on not letting me forget it.

The bird presents himself to me every time I arrive. The colors of his plumage are much more subtle than I realized.

I know Road Runners differently because I focused on this Road Runner.

Comments

In Channel

Some dirty rotten scoundrel stole my Trailer at Grace Farms. I doubt the thief realized that it was my trailer. To the thief, it was “A” Trailer or “The Trailer.” Be that as it may I am taking it personally.

Monsoon Season

2018-07-3100:03:34

Every wave seems to make it a point to let me know how powerless I am to stop it. But this doesn’t bother me. I go over or under their power without any fear. I don’t sit still easily. I prefer motion to rest. And I must like to worry – Because I do it all the time. I have a relentlessness to me that is endearing if I am solving your problem And irritating if I am trying to get you to answer my question. The ocean keeps me quiet by forcing me to hold my breath. I have been taught by some that A man should know if limitations And told by others “I am large, I contain multitudes.” You sit wherever you please. I don’t have any advice today.

Not Small

2018-06-1700:02:382

I am staring at the Kale. And the Kale is staring back. When it was a seed – small and full of potential – it needed me to coax it from it’s confining shell out to a wide-open world of possibility. Now, it’s life is largely its own. Sun and water feed it and it grows nearly perceptibly in front of my eyes. Always reaching towards the sun I assist nowadays, but mostly does the work without me.

On Kale and Daughters

2018-05-3000:03:352

If you are wondering if you are ready for the big adventure ahead. Let me report form the edges of competence It’s a dangerous ledge with risks of may even be fatal. But, let me be an example I have survived all the consequences of my mistakes – serious as some have been. Let the voice in your head keep you humbly honest And believe me when I tell you: None of us are hitting mark all the time. Attend to the details of your desires and try your best to be a good example.

For Example

2018-05-1800:02:561

I am crying. Two seconds ago, I was a middle-aged man planning his day over an Americano. Then, I get a text from my cousin. I am not crying quiet – dignified-like. My nose is running and I am thanking god the bill is already paid. On the way to the car, I compose myself. The week is chock-full of the type of news you carry in your belly. In what appears to be a moment of calm, I call my boss. I report to him that I won’t really be myself today. And then As if to prove the point I start to cry again.

My Last Card

2018-04-0900:03:452

I am standing in front of a steaming pile. It’s taller than I am, and so I get to work. I am raking and shoveling the mulch delivered to Grace Farms with the discipline of an army ant. It’s about 6:30 AM – my morning farm shift – As I shovel deeper into the pile of chipped trees, the heat is obvious. The tree was upright, then it wasn’t. The tree was alive, then it wasn’t. And again – it is one thing becoming another. The morning shifts are short, the responsibilities of day have no pause button for my messy farm project.

Chicken Eggs

2018-03-2200:03:171

The desert winter can be harsh. There are times when it I so wicked one is compelled to put their socks on. Since I am a tough guy, I am going without socks this morning. Out into the garage I step to retrieve the almond milk for this morning’s Americano, and I am stabbed with a razor sharp ice pick straight to my bone. Ok – perhaps that over states the moment I stepped on a scorpion who met the assault with a sting on the bottom of my middle toe. A scorpion sting is some sort of poison that is basically a cross between Cobra venom and Agent Orange. And for weeks I can trace the nerve that leads from my big toe to somewhere just below my ass. Because that little bastard lit up that neural pathway like so much napalm.

House Marks

2018-02-2100:04:011

It is an hour after Thanksgiving dinner. Family traditions throttle the pace of any high holiday – national or religious. I am currently throttling my 13 year-old nephew on the nearest basketball court in a post-turkey dinner game of HORSE. In my family, you won every contest against an adult until you were a certain age. The victories may have been assured, but every adult made in feel authentic. They would wince under the weight of the child’s crushing strategic genius on a game board, cry tears of frustration as the little one dribbles a soccer ball mercilessly or yet another goal, and howl under the pain of the kid’s wrestling I can still remember thinking: I am clearly a genius! I am an unstoppable force of nature in mind and body - the worlds of both Checkers, soccer and wrestling never witnessed such brilliance until the beginning of my reign. And so we launch you out into the world with the notion you are unstoppable. This Golden Era of your Life lasts until you are about 4 and half – maybe 5. Then – and perhaps it is the lingering influence of the Catholic Church or the immigrant experience or simply a desire not to raise spoiled brats – The Adults in the family crush the kids in every possible contest that occurs.

DM's Triumph

2017-11-2600:04:461

I am 20 and playing lead guitar. I am by far the worst musician in the band. They likely would have been a house-hold name if they had not been saddled with me. We played together for a year, and thank god You Tube had not been invented - my children would not survive the embarrassment. BUT There was this one gig. We were wedged between two head banging acts - but the crowd had a few friendly faces And out there. for one night we rocked the house. And I was a rock-n-roller Or at least that was my experience of it. 27 years later I am on Grace Farms. We are throwing a party - a dinner - an event. I am - by far – the least important person in the execution of I safely report to you: we rocked the house. Seriously. It was awesome.

Rockin' The House

2017-11-1800:03:021

The Road Runner at Grace Farms is eye-balling me. He was there before me, and he is intent on not letting me forget it. The bird presents himself to me every time I arrive. The colors of his plumage are much more subtle than I realized. I know Road Runners differently because I focused on this Road Runner.

Refocus

2017-10-2300:03:192

“Don’t talk to Pete. He is a dipshit.” In another era of my professional life, I read this love-note on an e-mail from a disgruntled client to her boss. I am unsure whether I was copied intentionally – but I am sure it gave her a certain amount of pleasure that I got to read what she thought of me. At that time of my life, I was part of an international sales-force of a company that did business on 5 continents. And a month before I am called a dipshit – I was celebrated as the highest performing sales-person Among hundreds of sales people around the globe. In fact, they give me a bunch of money and big, fat prize for being so great. The Divine likes to remind me: The distance between hero and dipshit is the length of time it takes to read a two-sentence e-mail.

Heroic Dips***

2017-10-2200:02:541

Somewhere in the mid- 1960’s he is in the 10th grade and doing a handstand on the top rails of the Empire State Buildings observation deck. Some volunteer parent looking after the high school kids take one look and faint dead-away. An unfortunate gust of wind sends him tumbling like a fall leaf. But it didn’t and the story lives on in family infamy.

The Unlikely Is Not The Imposible

2017-10-1700:03:351

"Ya ought to be ashamed of yourself!" This is my first voicemail of the day. When I worked for a giant company and held a position of authority and influence I liked the money - Everyone likes the money. But next on the list was this: Everyone returned my calls.

Leave A Message

2017-10-0700:03:191

It goes without saying: I do not know what I am doing. I killed all the tilapia in my aquaponics farm because I misunderstood how to keep them healthy. 30 chickens on the farm died because I built a substandard chicken coop that some average coyote easily penetrated. I am not a famer Yet I farm. There are people in my life that want me to focus. To do one thing and do that thing with excellence. But I have lived with the keen awareness of my death since I was 12. I don’t fear it. When I go, I want to be satisfied with my courage to have done my best and to have seen what was possible with my life. There are seasons of plenty in our lives. Seasons where your actions align with just the right needs of the moment and your imagination blooms in the world vibrantly. I am not in one of these seasons.

The Gospel of Doubt

2017-09-2600:04:191

I am in no danger of becoming an expert. In Anything. She is calling me because she wants me to be safe. I want to pick-up to tell her I am safe. However, I am standing on a ladder In a bee suit – which If I knocked on your door wearing this bee suit You would think I was there to clean the Ebola virus out of your carpets. I am wearing leather gloves – giant ones. They look like I should be handling glowing red bars to be smashed on some anvil And my hands are roughly the size of the average 3 grade girl Which makes my ability to do anything but the most blunt work Basically impossible. I have been getting reliable texts from the man who is my mentor when it comes to beekeeping. But the phone is ringing persistently in the pocket of my bee suit from my future wife. Competing with the phone is the sound of the biggest bee swarm I had ever had my face nose deep in. I can say this with confidence Because it was the first bee swarm I ever tried to rescue

Bee Careful

2017-09-2200:04:46

Somewhere in the development of the human species we learned to use tools. There is a great scene in the move 2001: A Space Odyssey that imagines the moment when our primordial ancestors learned to use a hammer. In my development as a farmer on Grace Farms, I have somehow regressed to just before the point in time when human beings learned to use tools. In trying to authentically develop a place where food can be grown, my enthusiasm for avoiding contamination of any kind created a sort of blindness to my own stupidity in how I am accomplishing simple tasks. A good friend of mine – who works with me on the farm – illustrated this by showing how a project that had taken me 9 hours could be completed in 30 minutes. What felt virtuous just minutes before his tutorial on using tools – immediately became evidence of my stubborn habit of taking the long, hard way to learning my lessons.

46, 47

2017-09-1700:05:01

In our desert, water occasionally falls from the sky sufficiently to create Flash Floods and awaken the seeds of future tumbleweeds and voracious milk weeds. Let me do my best to avoid the farming – garden cliché of discussing the spiritual virtues acquired by weeding their growing soil. Don’t trust anyone who writes about how pulling weeds freed their minds. I am walking along the fence line of my tiny farm looking like the world’s ugliest cheerleader holding two massive pom-poms of freshly pulled weeds

In The Weeds

2017-09-0200:03:551

My mom says I am smart, but that I am not clever. I am sure I am not smart enough to know what she means – but I have thought about her description often over the years. My thinking is not elegant. I don’t come to conclusions with deft – deductive – Sherlock Holms-ian clarity. I have go over and under and around and through ideas And then I need to feel the idea in practice. I am a reader – I enjoy learning – but I only learn lessons after feeling the consequences of screwing something up or the pleasure of bringing something beautiful into the world.

Clever or Not You're Ready

2017-08-2700:03:271

I have a very particular style of home improvement. My instincts attune to the whatever is the easiest, most efficient route And I travel that path only after exhausting every single difficult road first. I come from a family who deeply values language and we look for metaphors everywhere But we’ll save the obvious corollaries to my life for another, longer podcast.

Needful Things

2017-08-1400:03:414

As I type this the tender heads of my babies are passing through the digestive tracks of my enemies. I don’t know about you, but when I see a baby – eating it’s head off is not the first thing that comes to mind. That is not the case for the birds near my farm. I grow – with care and tenderness – little sunflower shoots from the seed. I do this in the house. Where it is safe.

Salad Days

2017-08-0900:03:202

If the Chickens had a Mafia, this is how I imagined they would settle old scores. Upon returning from a trip out of town, I walked on to Grace Farms. There, I found all my girls- who I raised from baby Chicks - scattered in various poses of death and dismemberment. I am vexed. I built a Chicken Cathedral. A good home, safe from any reasonable predator. But, clearly the neighbor houses an animal member of ISIS who hunts young chicks on my farm. I have been reminded that this is the natural order of things. The predator was just looking to survive. I have been told it is not personal.

Chicken Hit

2017-07-2900:03:203

The movie in my imagination shows a mid-sized dog launching from an easy boy and chewing the nose off my face. To make matters worse, Jon Snow is back in town tonight. Right along side my wife, I have been pining for him for months. Jon Snow will soon face the White Walkers while I am faking bravery in front of a family pet. I would like to report I did not soil myself. Having survived the encounter, my wife and I looked great at a very fancy event we drank and danced and had a great time. As if that isn’t enough, we will be snuggled up to watch the brave Jon Snow in about two hours. I am thinking of having a Martini – shaken Not Stirred.

Snow Storm

2017-07-1700:02:59

Placing the cucumbers in the harsh desert light seems a harsh. Under the pressure of the summer heat they will either shrivel and die, or come into the fullness of their flavor. I trust their grit and I am anticipating a great harvest.

Pale Cucumbers

2017-07-1700:02:50

We are obsessively watching The Americans on Amazon Prime. If you tasted this bit of Telivision Crack, chances are you’e done the same. The show is overtly political but it’s engine is the relationship between husband and wife: Phillip and Elizabeth. Elizabeth is this teeny tiny woman. Now, my wife and I see the world vastly differently. There must be days when she cannot believe she married someone with my political views. But we both agree: Elizabeth is a badass.

Stings

2017-07-1400:03:20

If you knew how much I hate the ants in my garden, you would be creating a Kickstarter campaign to cover the bills associated with my much-needed therapy. The little demons aside, I am under the spell of growing food. It’s cucumbers, melons and sunflowers that generously fill my garden under my unforgiving Arizona summer sky. I am barely surviving the blistering heat. And so, when I see a watermelon or cantaloupe resting on the ground Vibrantly soaking in the over-available sunshine Ant-free It surprises me.

Antsy

2017-07-0400:02:441

My wife’s palate is very sharp. She can parse flavors in dishes down to the spices and the addresses of the pigs who gave their lives for the pork in our stew. With great tasting powers come great smelling powers. Which can be a blessing and a curse. “Honey,” she says while I have come in from working on a small farm we are shaping to lay next her for a brief moment, “you need a shower.”

Stinky Honey

2017-06-2500:03:201

My record as an entrepreneur is unambiguous. I am an awful entrepreneur. I have been pretty-good at making large sums of money for other people, but I have recycled my earnings through a series of business train wrecks that will make most every business person in the world feel better about their own skills.

Unambiguous Work

2017-06-0500:02:592

The bones of the spine want to sit directly on top of each other. The shoulders want to be down and back. Pull yourself out of alignment and tell me you like it. Slouch and crumple yourself and say it feels good. But, when you see a dancer move, an athlete run, you know better. The premium placed on sarcasm still surprises me. I may be getting soft, but crassness seems to have become the surrogate for wit. Harmony looks easy, but it requires holding the spine upright – it takes a bit of effort. Beware of harshness. In my opinion it is just the false promise of slouching spirit. Stand up straight. Most things will fall into line.

Straighten Out

2017-04-2700:01:552

I hear the engine of a small airplane and the sky is very blue. Who knows how memory works. This is among my earliest recollections. Somehow, I remember it outside my body – looking at my 4 year old self in the front yard of the first house I ever lived in. From that moment until today, I associate the sound of a small aircraft with beautiful days.

The Promise Of A Blue Sky

2017-02-0300:03:002

You never want to call someone crazy, but he was dressed in the blues of the local mental hospital. We were standing in front of a local grocery store. I truly enjoyed this neighborhood. But, family and friends found this an unusual predilection of mine. A cross dresser in his early 70’s fed stray cats outside the Starbucks from an open tuna can every morning. My porch somehow became a garage-sale wherever thing was free. The theft was so common I put out everything I would otherwise donate for the petty thieves to sell on Craigslist. Even when I entered my own home to find it in the processed of being burgled – I still liked the place.

Parking Lot Prayers

2016-11-3000:02:381

In cultural wisdom that I have incorporated into my world view, I learned that there are two dogs inside all of us. The good dog. And the bad dog. And they fight with each other. Which dog wins? The one we feed the most.

Two Dogs

2016-11-1300:02:171

I am making my dogs omelettes in the morning. They love it. It’s true, my family and I are all a bit snobby about food. In an over-quick yes, my fiancé mistaken said yes to a quartet of baby chicks. “Yes” to her meant that we would talk later. “Yes” to me meant she found them in boxes on the kitchen counter by lunch. In a previous life, she an I lived in the time of great famine. There is no other explanation for the quantity of food that we purchase. We are 7 in total – but at any given time - each of us could invite three others for a meal and we would have ample food in the fridge to feed them all. Not being particularly social, we have considerable fodder for composting each week. At least we did.

Dog's Life

2016-10-2500:03:021

Not to be indelicate, but it is a menstruation. And I walked right in on her. I am pretty sure she was thinking: I need to get a bell around that guy’s neck. Clearly he was not raised right. The four chickens in the backyard are laying eggs now. And I am eye-balling them every few hours waiting for the next one to drop. My $6.78 tomato plant went in about 4 PM. By 6:30 PM half my investment was in the belly of some neighborhood terrorist. By the next morning, he’d finished the job. I am pretty sure the bird in question here is a roadrunner. He is fond of mad doggin’ me when I enter the garden without a proper level animal dominance. Contrary to my chickens’ opinions, I am a gentleman and so won’t repeat the exchanges.

Shofar, So Good

2016-10-0200:02:321

My organic chicken is in a giant Tampax Tampon carton. This vexes me. However, Costco is unmoved by my consternation. It is possible they did not even notice.

Chicken Patzer

2016-09-2600:03:091

"TV rots your brain.” My parents tell me this early in life. Being stout, I braved it nonetheless. At age 8, watching Batman, I calculated: I am doing OK in school and I still have good motor skills. It must affect the organ slowly. At 16, I realized my parents had offered the gem as a metaphor. I have mentioned that I am slow? Metaphors amplify the truth. Lies hide it.

Use Your Words

2016-09-2200:02:311

Once, when the family was broke – we bought that muffin dough that comes in an exploding can was on sale: 1 can for a dime. We bought some sort of pig rind that the butcher essentially gave to us. We rendered the fat – fried that cheap dough into doughnuts. It was a triumph.

The House Smells

2016-09-2200:02:442

I left the church because I would not be – what we called at the time – a “cafeteria” Catholic. This is somebody who picks and chooses what they believe, rather than believe the entire fabric required by the faith. I once made my - now 16 year-old - cry because I sternly corrected what I believed to be selfish behavior on a Christmas morning when she was about 4. Not my strongest moment as a parent, which she reminds me of from time to time. She and her 20 year-old sister would say that I overly emphasized the notion that consequences accompany behaviors. They are likely right.

Turner for the Worst

2016-09-0700:03:211

I skip many comedies because they seem to be striving for the "most shocking" of crassness and volume. Too little use of language and subtlety for me. Maybe if more comedians had giant eyes like Mr. Wilder, they'd rely less on their volume. Years from now, when asked about the memories of the first movies that made me laugh in a way that made me feel smart, I will surely the report that memory has not died. "It's Alive! It's Alive" I can safely say will be my response.

Wilder, DNA

2016-08-3000:02:592

I am pretty sure the grapefruit crime was victimless. It is impossible for me to know if my Nana was just making a mundane task more interesting by placing me in the role of Law-Breaker or whether she really was grooming me as an earner in her own Cosa Nostra.

Grapefruit

2016-08-0200:03:031

I just returned from an island. One side was calm and the sea placid. Almost too calm – as if the Pacific was just some big lake. The other side churned. The wind, relentless, pushed the sea around in dramatic fashion. It was beautiful, exciting and dangerous. The water smashed against rocks – not so unbreakable – performing gymnastically, acrobatically, ephemerally.

Turns

2016-08-0200:02:461

If you can name it, you change your relationship to it. That is my father in a mask. That’s a ledge – not a plank I will be forced to walk. A dog bit me, but all dogs won’t bite me – I am just afraid from that old injury – not the cuddle bug at my feet. When you can name the truth of the situation, you can experience it more fully. Name what scares you – it scares you less. This is also true: Naming the good - amplifies its goodness. You love someone – say it. You happy about it – shout it. Who cares when your judgment falters on what might be worthy of fear and perhaps what is dangerous. Living is just full of ways to get hurt – mostly it’s going to be OK. But those good things, those happy things, those joyful things – make the biggest noise you can about those – don’t miss them.

Judgment

2016-08-0100:02:561

Despite the evidence, I know I am not stupid. My daughters accepted our vacation with perfect, un-solicited gratitude. They enjoyed the trip un-self consciously. Is this not what we all hope for as parents? I have a simple heart. It’s an uncomplicated question to answer: What do you want? Decide what it is and then act accordingly. It doesn’t require any special genius.

Spring Break

2016-07-2800:02:542

It takes 6 and a half minutes of vapid attention to scrape my big melon clean. This hair-cut takes 45. And I am told: what’s what what should be what is lamentably not so. He is fearless. No doubt, no hint of uncertainty surfaces in this time. At points I wonder: I am leaving this chair with my ears attached? How close is that blade to my throat? It’s Valentine’s Day. What’s it mean? You decide.

Not Russian It

2016-07-2700:02:251

When you only have a hammer, everything looks like a nail. We all need the whole toolbox. Not full of one thing, but with many rulers, saws, pliers, plumb lines. Where you aim at is where you land. Even when it takes more time then you expect, the trajectory you pick will carry you forward unless you really bend yourself towards a new path – and this is hard. Best to draw the bow carefully. Want what you want. Aim at a life you will love.

Draw Carefully

2016-07-2700:04:052

I am insecure about a great many things, but my work ethic isn’t one of them. I can worry a problem into submission. Of this I am supremely confident. But, I must report, my yard is full of weeds. Laziness? I am growing food to eat. I am experimenting with eating things untouched by chemicals. These plants grow in boxes – large and small - throughout my yard. They are modestly prospering. If I could figure out how I cultivated such a heaven for weeds – and apply it to the calorie reaping plants – hunger in the Southwest would be a thing of the past.

Passion Fruit

2016-07-2700:02:431

I am a not a good cheater. I always pay a deeper price than the bargain I ask for. If I want something that is to be earned, I always have to travel the full nine yards.

Honest Wages

2016-07-2700:03:091

“I would flex, but I like this shirt” This is written across a tee shirt my children bought me for Christmas. They have an ironic sense of humor. My many tee shirts neatly folded in front of me, I am trying to rationalize the quantity. How many tee shirts does one man need? Like everyone, I have my insecurities. There are many. However, for many years, I have felt entirely comfortable in describing myself as a man. I am not a boy.

Man Up

2016-07-2600:03:061

Most things should be shared. But not everything. My parents celebrated 44 years of marriage on Friday with a bouquet of flowers and a hotel room in Seattle. On Facebook they allowed us a photo of the small garden and a note to us that they were happy. 44 years. On one level I feel like I had a front row seat to their romance. But, I also know, what goes on between a man and a woman in love is private. It is a mystery.

The Lion and His Lioness

2016-07-1900:02:101

We should make all spiritual talk Simple today: God is trying to sell you something, But you don’t want to buy. That is what your suffering is: Your fantastic haggling, Your manic screaming over the price! (Hafiz) “Grow!” My 4 year-old baby sister screams at an intractable seed she planted the day before. Her ferocious spirit commanding the plant to sprout. The seed remained unmoved that morning. I water the dirt in my garden. I bought a bunch of worms. They all impolitely died. The dirt is housed in a fancy pergola that I am sure any vegetable would love to sprout from. I am supposed to be writing about what a master of agriculture I have become. Instead I make a little mud everyday.

Grow!

2016-07-1900:02:461

I like athletes. But not all athletes. “Souls are like athletes, that need opponents worthy of them, if they are to be tried and extended and pushed to the full use of their powers, and rewarded according to their capacity.” ― Thomas Merton, The Seven Storey Mountain Does that make sense to you? Or not?

The Last One

2016-07-1900:02:471

Download from Google Play

Download from App Store

United States

00:00

1.0x

#box-pro-ellipsis-15482687908127{-webkit-line-clamp:2;-webkit-box-orient: vertical;}Refocus

Monsoon Season

Not Small

On Kale and Daughters

For Example

My Last Card

Chicken Eggs

House Marks

DM's Triumph

Rockin' The House

Refocus

Heroic Dips***

The Unlikely Is Not The Imposible

Leave A Message

The Gospel of Doubt

Bee Careful

46, 47

In The Weeds

Clever or Not You're Ready

Needful Things

Salad Days

Chicken Hit

Snow Storm

Pale Cucumbers

Stings

Antsy

Stinky Honey

Unambiguous Work

Straighten Out

The Promise Of A Blue Sky

Parking Lot Prayers

Two Dogs

Dog's Life

Shofar, So Good

Chicken Patzer

Use Your Words

The House Smells

Turner for the Worst

Wilder, DNA

Grapefruit

Turns

Judgment

Spring Break

Not Russian It

Draw Carefully

Passion Fruit

Honest Wages

Man Up

The Lion and His Lioness

Grow!

The Last One

Refocus

Refocus