It's my personal soapbox, a place for me to express thoughts and feelings, musings and rants, reflections and recollections; to have fun with words -- about things spiritual, environmental, social, political, economic, and, from time to time, personal. And of course about peace. Soapboxes are in public places (as London's legendary Hyde Park) on purpose, and so I invite conversations with you, for it is through civil discourse that we can gain some perspective on the seeming chaos of these changing times and learn together how to shape a positive future for ourselves, our communities, and the generations to come.

Monday, December 14, 2015

Climate Change: To Adapt or Not to Adapt?

During dinner last week, a friend (let’s call him Steve), who is a climate change economist and consults internationally on the subject, argued against promoting adaptation to the changing climate. He does acknowledge that climate change is already under way and that we need to both adapt and put the brakes on (and possibly even, he says, throw the process into reverse). Yet, he fears that emphasizing adapting to it will be as if we are taking it as a given and won’t make the painful policy and personal efforts required to reduce our carbon footprint.

Steve makes a strong argument. However….

Thursday, August 6, 2015

Dead and Alive

Dead and Alive

April blooms burst forth,
a baize ablaze with sunshine.
Life in the Valley of Death.

Celestial Promise


Celestial Promise

White puffs of promise
dabble heaven’s blue canvas.
Parched limbs stretch skyward.

Thursday, June 25, 2015

The Walls Remember

I was just stepping off the curb to cross a street on the way to the post office this morning when I saw it…and came to an abrupt halt. Transfixed, I watched for several minutes.

A monster of metal, a modern-day T. Rex, grabbed a mouthful of the back end of the 88-year-old apartment building at 120 Tilton Avenue, chewed it up, swiveled to its left, spat it out onto a growing pile of razed ruins, and then swiveled back to take another bite. And another. And another. And yet another. As the worn and dingy building disappeared bit by bit from the rear, door frames, window panes, bathtubs, toilets, wooden chairs, slabs of stucco, and weathered timbers rained down – twisted, broken, crumpled – onto the rubble pile. And, bit by bit, green trees and blue sky came into view beyond.