Archive
A poem about friends and time: “Back to the Middle”
We had a Sunday lunch with good friends we hadn’t seen in a while. As conversations flowed through our three hours together, it was as if no time had passed at all. Yes, we caught up with experiences and events, but the meaningful words were about community, togetherness; time had no meaning. As Hafez and Bob Sima’s song puts it: “Our hearts are the oldest of friends”!
I think a lot about time. My little story about good friends picking up together as if there had been no time since our last togetherness tells me that time is mostly meaningless; an invention to help us get to appointments on time, but otherwise mostly empty. We are always, if we truly understand this, in the “middle of time” in every precious moment.
Back to the Middle
We measure time through
Many rhythms and cycles,
From the micro-spin of electrons
To the macro-spin of galaxies,
From the beat of a hummingbird’s wings
To the breath of a humpback whale.
Is there a flow to these cycles of time?
Does the arrow of time vector with no end?
The Universe expands, accelerating
Outward to some unmeasurable future.
Is that time’s destiny
Out beyond the stars?
Sun-cycles measure the seasons;
Moon-cycles measure the tides.
Blood-cycles measure a human life;
Breath-cycles measure all life.
Earth-cycles measure evolutionary epochs;
Solar-cycles measure planetary life.
Cycles within cycles, the rhythm of Consciousness.
What is the beat of Mind? The measure of Wisdom?
If time does not flow is it the end?
Consciousness is all there is, beyond reason.
All time is here, now, in this moment.
We always come back to the middle.
©2025 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.
Happy Father’s Day, Dad: A poem for you!
Happy Father’s Day to all Dads! It’s a day to celebrate me: a proud father of three, grandfather of six and great-grandfather of two! And it’s a day to remember as well; I miss my Dad, Vernice. And I miss my father-in-law, Kenn Robertson.
I’ve been thinking a lot about my Dad lately and how much he gave me. This poem is about his greatest gift. Thank you, Dad!
He Set Me Free
He was hard working, dedicated, disciplined;
Ended school after 8 grades, all As:
His dad insisted he go to work
Farming for his uncle.
In war he wanted to serve in the Navy.
They said “no” – color blindness disqualifies.
Farming was essential then too:
The troops needed food.
A Master Electrician apprenticeship came his way.
He had to say “no” – low pay for too long
Wouldn’t put food on the table
For a new, growing family.
He farmed for Uncle, then Dad, then moved
When war was done, to a farm 20 miles
Away with new wife and son:
A rental, shared crops and cattle.
We prospered through hard work and discipline.
Years went by, son joined in the work,
Another son came along. The farm went
For sale; he bought it for his own.
We worked side-by-side, first son and he.
He pulled that son aside one day and said:
“Don’t get stuck on this or any farm.”
He set me free that day!
Ever and always grateful.
©2025 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.
A Mid-January Poem
This “fell out” of my “Morning Pages” today as I considered the day and date. It’s basically just a muse about the “real” meaning of time. Not much substance to it, actually; like a breath!
Mid-week, Mid-Month
Mid-week, mid-month, we seem to have traveled fast!
But time is like that – both expanding and contracting,
Just like the breath.
Looking forward it seems to extend out endlessly
Toward the edge of All, into timelessness.
Looking back it all collapses rapidly in a fading,
Forgotten memory – no time.
With a deep inhale the past catches the present
And the events of before blur into now.
With a deep sighing exhale the future fades as well
Into the ever present now.
With another inhale we expand again,
Poised, ready for what lies ahead –
But holding that breath we wonder:
Are we truly ready?
We hold, poised at the pinnacle just before we step
Into the future, exhaling in a rush
To catch up with ourselves.
Whether we step or pause seems not to matter.
Holding to the center is what we have now.
Hold on tight. Weeks, months: only rotations
Of the Earth about the Sun. Weeks expand to seasons,
Cycles return to the start, endless spinning and revolving
Through the Cosmos to arrive just here.
©2025 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.
Happy endings, new beginnings! Let’s close 2024 with a poem.
Another year ends, a new one begins. I am going to publish one of my envisioned collections of poetry “one of these days, or years” – maybe this one, 2025! I chose a title years ago, even have collected some samples in a folder. Today’s poem may be one to add to that collection.
Happy 2025!
Rhythms & Cycles
Endings; endless endings!
How can this be?
There can be no endings without
Beginnings.
Beginnings; beginningless beginnings!
This cannot be!
Nothing begins at all with no
Endings.
Do you catch the rhythm here?
There is a beat, a pulse
That must repeat over and over
Again.
Cycles spin, spokes converge,
Emptiness causes the wheel to turn.
Lao Tzu taught the Truth of this
In the beginning.
From the smallest wheel
To the entire Cosmos we turn.
Each breath we take is mirrored
In the All.
There is a rhythm to Consciousness.
How can this be?
There is a cycle to the Cosmos:
Endless beginnings!
©2024 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.
A Poem for post-election Friday
So, that happened on Tuesday. My feelings are still all over the place; I continue to feel them, process both thoughts and feelings, do my inner work, discuss thoughts and feelings, even prayers, with close associates. I do my Qigong and breathing practices…deep breaths!
And I write. Here’s what came today:
Dig down for the joy!
We must go on and see this through.
“This” may turn out to be ugly.
Maybe we must dig down through the ugly
To find the beauty.
There will be joy in that beauty.
Maybe we need to go through the crumbling systems,
The pillars we believed so strong and tall,
To reach the other side,
To discover the new, better way.
There will be joy in that way.
Maybe we need to let go of the old ways, old beliefs,
Old models and “shoulds.”
There is clarity at the end of chaos.
There will be peace and joy in that clarity.
©2024 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.
Sunday thoughts as we head to an election…
Rosemary and I dropped off our ballots yesterday. We mutter about our effect on the Presidential election…Maryland is far from a “swing state” so our votes for President get lost. They will likely be two of millions more that Kamala receives over Trump Nationwide. But those millions may not matter if swings states go a different way by a few thousand votes.
How did we get here? I journaled the following a couple of days ago as part of my continuing quest for answers to hard questions like this one.
Blog post for 10/27/2024
For the most part men are shit; this is more observation than judgment. We can’t help it; we have not been taught any better. We have been raised in and are part of a patriarchy that has lasted at least 5000 years, 200 or more generations. That is a long time, a lot of conditioning, indoctrination to overcome. It is deeply seeded and rooted, and it is self-perpetuating; it propagates through humanity as an unrelenting plague would. All of our institutions support this propagation and sustainment.
There has been some small progress over the course of the last hundred years or so: women have risen to prominence in many fields once dominated by men. But this progress has been small and slow, and it has been throttled and stymied at every turn. The Dobbs Decision is a case in point where progress in women’s rights over their own bodies has been stopped cold. And the men who would want to stop all women’s progress are still in powerful positions; they have too much, through greed and the perpetuating patriarchy, power and resources.
The election of Kamala Harris to the Presidency of this country could have a hugely positive impact on progress toward equality and freedom. This would have a worldwide impact, but is it possible? I can hope it is possible, but the opposing forces are strong. The money don’t want this to happen. The powerful men don’t want this to happen. And their influence is broad and deep.
How do we overcome 5000 years of power and prejudice? It is not clear to me, despite my hope, that there has been enough time to create a lasting shift. Even if a miracle sees Harris rise to the White House, remember the reaction to the election of a black man in 2004 and 2008. It was fierce; it created MAGA.
I hold out as much hope as I can muster.
I am blessed with this hope and positivity.
All the best for all of us!
Friday’s poem, third in the trilogy this week: “Next”
I’m sitting here, all in white with my mantra and mala beads, fresh from the first day of “retreat” with Deva Premal & Miten and Manose. I’m feeling very mellow, connected, in a deep state of peace. And, yes, almost like this is “Next.” Rosemary and I are in retreat within the Gayatri Sangha for seven days, every day at 1:00 pm EDT. The energy that Miten is invoking for us each of these days is that of “Compassion, Forgiveness and Gratitude.” These are deep blessings for all of us to bring peace and joy into our lives! May it be so for you. May this be the next step for humanity!
Next
When I stop long enough to dream, to
Consider what comes next—there hovers
At the edge of my perception a
Disturbance in the air, a blur, a rush—
It’s like the invisible whir of Hummingbird
Wings; little tornadoes just beyond—
A flicker at the corner of eyesight,
A glint of movement too fine to be.
I wonder what higher consciousness looks like.
Is it a monk sitting silently on a cushion in a corner?
Is it even a human form available to five senses?
Perhaps it is that disturbance at the edge, beyond.
I cannot linger here for long in a conscious state,
Exploring this edge of what remains real.
I drift into a different dream and shift in shock
To wonder: Is this fluttering vibration a next me?
©2020 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.
Wednesday’s Poem, second in the trilogy – “Enough”
As I wrote and posted on Monday, I have three poems for this week, kind of a trilogy (at least I think they go together). This one is for my word for 2020: Enough. I have been working with this word, probably my whole life, but wanted to really focus on it this year. It is a very versatile word, applies in many contexts; I’ll let you use your imagination to extend it to your contexts!
Interestingly I’ve chosen to publish this today, July 22, Rosemary’s and my 37th annual celebration of our wedding. But my word does not apply in this context; I can never get enough Rosemary in my life!
I’ll post the third poem, “Next”, on Friday. I’ll let you decide how they fit!
Enough
Breath—so easy, in, out, unconscious,
Sleeping, moving, natural enough.
And when not, gasping, panic
A little death as flow ceases, seizes.
Means—water, food, comfort, semi-conscious
In the flow. Stuff accumulates, enough.
And when not, grasping, panic
A buying frenzy, empty shelves.
Freedom—to breathe, to buy, to be,
To choose what and when is enough.
And when not, gaining higher consciousness,
A steeper climb to see beyond ourselves.
Wisdom—perception is reality, perspective mastery;
The present moment holds it all—enough.
And when not, go deeper, beyond—
Breathe, rest mind, let go, BE.
©2020 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.
A New Book launches today; my Chapter: “Qigong is the Way, A Calming Practice for Health and Long Life”
I know; I have’t written or published here for a bit…life is busy while we are doing our work “on the inside.” I do hope you are well during this COVID pandemic, staying safe, being smart. I am keeping my immune system strong with my daily Qigong practice!
Speaking of which! I and 24 other authors and health experts launch our book: “The Ultimate Guide to Self-Healing Techniques, Volume 2”, today! You can get it on Amazon now; the Kindle version is only $1.99 during this special launch celebration.
My Chapter is #10: Qigong is the Way, A Calming Practice for Health and Long Life
In this chapter I describe an “Easy Bone Marrow Washing” form, a 5 minute practice you can do anywhere to relax the body and calm the mind.
This was a fun project. I encourage anyone, if you have the chance, to participate in one of these collaborative books! It’s a way to get out there and to offer your services!
And if you get the book please consider leaving a review on Amazon. If you don’t want to go that far leave me a comment here!
Thanks and happy reading!
And if you want to learn more about Qigong my website is: Qigongistheway.com
A Poem for our Birthdays: The Miracle of Our Togetherness
Rosemary and I have been sharing this August 2 birthday for 47 years! It is a special day and we treat ourselves to play and feasting. Today will be no different!
I began the day thinking about this fun fact of shared birthdays and about our relationship. This poem came to help make her day special:
The Miracle of Our Togetherness
It is a joy for me to share your birthday!
And as we sail swiftly into our Golden Years,
Our Golden Time together,
I just want to reflect on that shared journey.
We were like two lightening bugs flashing
On a warm July evening seeking each other
In the wilds of the wide world,
Not even realizing there was a joining to be made.
We were so different! And joined with others.
You, the conservative, Catholic cosmopolitan girl;
I, the gangly, sometimes goofy, farm boy still out to save the world.
You from Washington, DC; I from the wilds of Wisconsin and Africa.
And we flashed in that July heat all that time ago;
We knew, instantly (or eventually) that our worlds had changed.
We knew some magic, some miracle had brought us together.
And we still know there is magic to make together.
It is a magic of pure gold, a magic all our own.
Others see it, know it; the gods see it, show it to us.
And we see it, know it, struggle with words to show it:
The Gold of Lightening; the flash, the sizzle, the bright light of Love.
Lammas, magic cross-quarter time, a golden time
Of harvest, the reaping time of all that has been sown.
The light shifts now from the silver light of summer
To the golden light of autumn: Our Golden Time.
©2019, Richard W. Bredeson, all rights reserved.
Men and The Goddess 