Down the drain

On the road and down the drain, burned up, maybe even burned out to the point that the blogging stopped. Not for lack of subjects to share. After all there was the surprise fiftieth birthday party for a friend, which brought mutual friends from Scarborough to my house. I have shared with them my place in the desert and my lowland place. He wrote and composed ‘Meet me at Death Valley’. It is uplifting but as he writes in on of the songs ‘living on the edge, I can’t afford to stumble…’ During my silent retreat March 8, International Women’s day was dedicated to women and peace. In ‘Pragmatics of Human Communication, Paul Watzlavitch showed us that ‘You cannot not communicate’… Leonard Peltier wrote from his prison:

Silence, they say, is the voice of complicity.
But silence is impossible.
Silence screams.
Silence is a message,
Just as doing nothing g is an act.

Let who you are ring out and resonate
in every word and every deed.
Yes, become who you are.
You are your own comeuppance.
You become your own message.

You are the message.

So, I try to find back my voice, and throw myself in the fray again. Tumbleweed is looking for a breeze to jump off the fence.