This has been quite a week! In addition to starting a new job, I've been planning a new radio show, connecting with medical experts on mercury, and continuing the hunt for a happy and inexpensive home. 

Last night after trekking to the grocery store for bananas (I prefer the spotted ones with red tape around them), I did my evening prayer and meditation. I'd hoped with some quiet time my thoughts would become clear and structured. They didn't. I sat with my composition book in my lap. I did get the title down, but no clear words.

I guess sometimes we deal with jumbled thoughts. My brain sometimes doesn't shut down. It didn't last night. Jumbled, roving, tipping this way and that, I was wishing for a shut off switch. I guess it lends itself to some interesting dreams. To add to my jumbled entry, here's a monkey on a bus. Comments?

She'll never know the excitement of finding a three dollar cappuccino maker at a thrift store.
She'll never know the friends she might have made by staying at hostels around the world.
She'll never know the thrill of finding half-priced muffins on the soon-to-be-expired shelf at the grocery store.
Yes, I feel sorry for Oprah.
She'll never know the joys I've known.

Does she wonder if true friends exist?
Does she have the freedom to walk naked on a beach?
Does she have someone to share with when the world tumbles in?
Yes, I feel sorry for Oprah.
She'll never know the joys I've known.

And somewhere under a bridge lives a man who washes himself in a duck pond and lives in a tattered tent. 
He basks in the morning sun on the warming graffiti covered boulder as he sips the steaming cup of coffee someone has just given him and thinks, I feel sorry for Joe. He'll never know the joys I've known.


Note to reader- I had the pleasure of meeting David Mason, Poet Laureate of Colorado, and his wife Chrissy last night. They have a poetry workshop going on at the Cortez Library this morning. I've been having vehicle problems and needed to resolve them (the battery is charging again and a friend has offered to follow me on my drive to the mechanic). Anyhow, if I had made it to the workshop, this is likely the poem I would have produced. 

Have you ever had a theme running through your head? I catch onto these every now and then. My most recent is one I truly love- it is “No Worries”.

The core root of most profound themes goes back to Disney (actually, it goes back well before Disney, but humor me by following my logic). We all walked away from The Lion King with a short lesson in Swahili and didn’t even know it. “Hakuna Matata” rolls off the tongue like some like the joyous tickle of a back-seat teen who has just caught wind on a bump and is laughing their ass off (you know what I’m talking about…right?). I actually first saw the movie with a large group of teens who I’d chaperoned to the theater. While we were all touched to near tears with Elton’s “Can You Feel the Love Tonight”, within minutes of our bus ride back to campus some were singing “Hakuna Matata” (little did I know I would eventually spend time living in East Africa and make use of the phrase daily).

Jump to the present.  A couple of weeks ago, I went to dinner with a friend and coworker. I didn’t have my vehicle, so he offered a ride in his low rider. The side of the vehicle slick with a large custom paint job of “Puropedo”. I try to pronounce it, and Marco corrects me then tells me, “It means ‘No Worries’. My brothers and I have a clothing company.” I began to wonder, Is this a theme?

About a week ago I subbed for a class at the Cortez High School. In my spare time, I was preparing for a job interview with the Ute Mountain Ute Tribe in Towaoc, Colorado. A couple of young Native American men in the back of the class were talking about living in Towaoc. I was curious and asked them, “What does Towaoc mean?”

One of them responded, “It means ‘No Worries’” and a couple of the students began singing, “Hakuna Matata”.

Yesterday, as I sat in a parking lot with a dead battery and six Mormons on missions looking under the hood, I thought to myself, No worries. One dripped ice cream on his tie as another informed me, “A police officer from our Ward is coming to help out.” God bless the Mormons on a mission. I’m charging my battery at this very moment.

Hakuna Matata, Puropedo, Towaoc…whatever the language, no worries is a theme to live by. Tap it on your forehead, put it on the fridge, or simply say it repeatedly each and every day. No Worries- now these are words to live by!

My desk should be an open uncluttered field of open space sitting plain in the universe like some radar dish receiving messages from collective consciousness. Instead it is a jumble of stacks of papers, journals, a sketchbook, 3-D glasses, books and to the upper right a ten gallon fish tank.

I bought the tank at a yard sale for a buck. I’d thought it would be a good way to give me some relaxing company. I have six fish and a stowaway snail (he snuck in on a plant). I got the fish two at a time in pairs (I figured even fish don’t want to be the odd man out). The first pair are Fan-tail Barbs named Floyd and Dot; they’re the most active and amorous. Gremlin and Volare’ are Headlight/ Taillight Tetras; they’re kind of mechanical. Thing One and Thing Two are a type of Chinese Bottom Feeder.  Snail is, well, a snail. I introduce them as the players in this little world.

Last week I had the brilliant idea of getting a Sponge Bob Square Pants pineapple house. I had vision of the fish enjoying the heck out of a new piece of equipment in their underwater playground. In my mind, they swam in and out of the windows and door playing endlessly.  Yeah, right!

Change came to this ten gallon world, when I rolled up my sleeve and gently submerged the pineapple house into the tank. I sat and waited. Surely they would welcome such a fun hang out. I waited and waited and waited some more.

The fish eddied in the corners of the tank far from the glowing bright fish architecture. They were not happy.

Late the first day, I saw the first encounter. Dot was swimming by the windows and slowed to look in each. Floyd made several nose-butts to the structure. They were exploring it in their own way.

The real explorer of the pineapple though has been Snail. He (I’m assuming…but one can never tell with a snail) seemed in snail heaven gliding over the lines of the exterior, over the top, through the windows and sometimes the door. If there is a tank occupant who loves the pineapple, it is Snail.

One of the Things has taken to lounging inside of the house. I think the Things have decided it’s a good addition to their Universe. The other fish have come to tolerate the new obstacle. I wonder if I will ever see the vision I once had.

And what have I learned from making a change to the ten gallon world? First, I know I have little right to think I could properly assess what a fish wants in their space (I once had cats and it was similar…I’d buy some sparkly, feathery toy and they’d choose to play with the wrapper it came in). Secondly, it is a metaphor for change in general. I go through similar stages in accepting change to my world.

Change is inevitable I’ve often heard said. If we accept it as natural and inevitable, isn’t the acceptance a kind of stability? You see, change in a ten gallon world may have a profound effect.

You ever feel down? You ever want to feel great but you just can't get to that state of mind? Me too. Heck, we all have our ups and downs. I recently read, "We can't stop the waves, but we can learn to surf." Grab a board and let me share a couple of ideas.

First, why not "Happy Talk"? Remember the song from South Pacific? Are you by yourself? Think of the talk in your head. Are you pissy or are you happy? Do everything you can to make the inner voice some happy, positive message to yourself. Okay, so that's my first idea off the cuff.

Second, dance! This works for me. I turn up the portable radio and start bouncing around. I've been told I'm a hell of a dancer (I've never watched myself, so I can't really say). My last full-on public dance session was at Paje Beach on Zanzibar. I've always been one to simply let my body feel the music. So, whether on the beach or in your kitchen by yourself. Dance, dance and then dance again! Really, it somehow boost the "happy-self". 

Third, this'll be my last brilliant idea. Find a pet. Unconditional love is a real boost. Animals can give it to you. They don't understand "the world is a harsh place". They understand, food, petting and the need to go to the bathroom. Somehow above it though they understand love is a good thing. Listen to them! Currently, my fish find my life pretty damn silly.

Hey, keep the happy talk going. I know I will. Happy trails, Joe