You’re sitting in a comfortable chair, around eight P.M., and the sun is gently lowered behind a tall oak tree.

A basket of red flowered petunias grows out of an orange ceramic pot. It’s very quiet.

You have a few birds chatting high up in the apple tree to your right, and two sparrows are hopping along the grass, searching for that last evening snack.

Out of nowhere, you hear a distant rumble. It’s very faint, very subtle. Barely audible. Barely distinguishable.

I love floors that creak. There’s a power, a personality to it, as if the floor acknowledges me there, greets me, in a way. The house feels homey and lived in, in some sense imprinted.

Old houses have creaky floors and stairs, for sure. It’s not clear if it’s the personality of the people who lived there coming through or the personality of the home itself. But, to me, it always seems inviting and cozy.

It makes me mindful of the moment, more fully present with more of my senses focused here and now.

I also love doors that creak and drawers that squeak.

Introduction

This song was written during the first gas crisis of the 1970’s Carter administration.
I did belong to a carpool, and once again, my songwriter’s imagination took off.
But the people described in this song were at least somewhat close to the personalities I describe herein.

   The actual song itself is available only in spoken form, as requested by Philip.

When you think you are awake, you’re not. You go for a walk along a path in the woods, and you are fully awake, at least in your mind. But from a different perspective, are you awake? No you are not. You are sleeping. Why? Because your mind is full of thoughts, ideas, tasks to be done. All of these mental activities are moving at the speed of light. Your eyes are open. You look awake to the world. But you really are not.

You’re not really present. You’re far away. You’re unaware of your present world.

A frog can hop at your foot, and you won’t even see it.

Introduction

John:

Matt, what do you see what you are doing. Let’s say, if you could go into the future about 5 years from now. What would you like to have happen, with all the effort you are putting into traveling to all these cities, meeting all these people, and putting yourself out so everyone gets a chance to personally, see, feel, sense, who you are and what you are about?

This story I would like to tell is about friends of mine. Friends of my husband’s and mine, who recently got refugee visa’s from the Ukraine, and are now living in Oakville, CT.

Twenty something years ago, my husband is working in the shop, and the woman who was the engineer, she was crying. He said, “What is wrong Galina?” She said that my friend Irina in the Ukraine, she lost her husband at 28 years old of diabetes, because if the was money, there was no medicine, and if there was medicine, there was no money.

I was born into a prepared place here,
Where geniuses leave their marks,
That everything is better still.

Thank you you who first sung a song.
Perhaps the birds led the way.

Thank you you who first baked a pot from clay.
Perhaps fiery stones led the way.

Thank you you who first made a word.
Perhaps the call of sheep led the way.

Thank you you who first picked berries and nuts as food.
Perhaps you watched the deer and squirrel.

Thank you you who first made a wooden spoon.
Perhaps you saw rainwater gather in a cleft of wood.

Oh I could walk 10,000 miles
Maybe your heard that song
Today I am walking to see 10,000 plus daffodils
On Wigawam Road in Litchfield, CT
And its Laurel Ridge Farm
And it was what was an unusable piece of farm land
That these private land owners decided what could they do with it
They decided to plant daffodils
They are also deer resistant
Which is great hear in the north east
For your flower and veggie garden
It has been raining a lot
And it is a really sunshiny day
I am staying up in Goshen

Wow, I just saw this team all kneeling down together
Of football players praying on a field
What a powerful sight to see that witness that wow
I‘d like to see more of that going on to many of the places I go to
Prayer is so powerful
It is just a pipe line, a communication, a resource just to tap into
For being grateful, for asking for help, for healing
It encompasses so many venues of your life
I guess this team I don’t know if they want to win the game
Or they are asking for a player, for guidance, or their coach, family

I love to see things that are so tangled they defy all logic to untangle or even understand their pattern.

Near our house is a Byzantine church. That in itself is so beautiful when they play the church bells with something like a piano keyboard. Anyhow, there is a huge nettle, a giant, wild hedge with small birds darting in and out.

Hundreds of birds seem to live in there. It is so amazing that they can so quickly and accurately navigate this dense and obtuse tangle of hedge at such a high speed. They must be geniuses.