Archive
A poem for a random Wednesday: “Forgiveness”
So, we all have encounters with others from time to time, more often than not. And sometimes those encounters can go off-kilter; part of being human, part of the ebb and flow of human relationships. The encounters that go ary can create emotional baggage we carry well beyond the actual effect of the interaction.
One of the biggest lessons for me (the biggest is patience) is to let go of emotional baggage. My means to this end is through forgiveness. Here’s a definition I frequently refer to to help with my lesson:
Forgiveness: “a decision to see beyond the limits of another’s personality; to be willing to accept responsibility for your own perceptions and shift them repeatedly and transform yourself from being a helpless victim of your circumstances to being a powerful and loving co-creator of your reality.”
–Robin Casarjian
With this in mind, and with a fresh off-kilter encounter I’m releasing, I offer this:
Forgiveness
Say you are sorry!
I don’t want to.
You need to get beyond this.
Why do I have to?
It was their fault!
Wait a minute.
What role did you play?
They started it.
They called me names!
It hurt my feelings.
Why did they call you names?
What did you do?
I made a mistake.
It was just an oversight.
No harm was intended.
Say you’re sorry for the error.
I did; I feel bad for that.
But I’m only human and
The name calling hurts.
Can you get over it?
Yes.
Say you are sorry!
Sorry!

©2025 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.
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.
About debt; a poem.
Thinking today about the prosperous middle class of my generation: the Boomers. All generations are subject to criticism. But I wonder about how history will look at us. On the surface we have done very well, in general. Where did all the prosperity come from?
We are now looking toward more debt to pay for a giant “gimme” for the wealthy. Who will pay for that?
I spent many wonderful hours with MartÍn Prechtel in his “Bolad’s Kitchen” retreats. He often spoke of the debts we owe to the ancestors, gods and goddesses. We owe our very lives to these forbearers and deities. How can we ever repay them? So, thinking about debt and borrowing from the future this poem came as a token of “payment.”
Borrowing the Future
Pulling back time is an act of greed;
It is an act of utter folly.
Time cannot be bought or sold;
It can only be shared.
Borrowing the future cannot
Repay the debts of the past.
Those debts can never be paid.
Ancestral debts are forgiven with love.
Love of our ancestors is payment forward.
Love and honor for them is partial payment in arears.
Greed dishonors all who have come before;
Only love can flow forward in time.

©2025 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.
Tuesday following Memorial Day; a Poem
I wrote this as part of my Morning Pages yesterday, Memorial Day here in the US. It came out as a “prose-poem” but as I keyed it in it feels better in verse form. It is about remembering. It is about freedom. It is about sacrifice but more about living.
Memorial Day
Have the fallen died in vain?
Are we no longer free?
Have we ever been truly free?
Is the “home of the brave and the land of the free”
Just a relic of the past?
Brave or foolhardy?
Free or continuing under the yoke of tyranny?
Here we are again;
Did we ever leave?
Or are these concepts, words, deeds, creeds
Just so much chaff blowing in the winds of change?
The only realm of freedom
Is the inner realm.
If we cannot be free of our tyrannical minds
We can never be free.
Free countries are an illusion.
The outer can throw up a mirage of freedom;
The spoken or sung words can create a sense
Of belonging, power, courage, pride.
None of it is real; none of it is lasting.
It is all fake news.
I am at the threshold of letting it all go.
I choose to focus my mind inward:
The only view of some deeper reality
Hidden from most of us,
Often hidden from me as well.
I know it is there.
I have witnessed it;
I can sometimes catch a glimpse of it.
When I do I am convinced it is
The only “thing” that matters.
This “thing” is the only true Reality
Beyond all other senses of reality.
It is the spark of Light,
Not born,
Never dying,
Here before the beginning,
There after the ending
Which can never come.
It is forever free.
And I hold that spark within me,
As all beings of Light do.
We can never be bound;
We are forever free within this Light.
Memorial Day is this knowing;
It is remembering who we are.
May we all awaken
To this reality
And set ourselves free.

©2025 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.
A Happy Friday poem: Fear and Flow
It feels easy to fall into fear these days. In my daily pursuits with people I sense many have fallen, succumbed to the “Mind Killer” as Frank Herbert would name it! I get it: there is a lot out there to drag us kicking and screaming into fear. The corruption, degradation, depravity and lawlessness seem rampant in this “land of the free.”
Approaching Memorial Day weekend and Monday, what are we to “memorialize”? What have the “fallen” sacrificed for? For me I’ll remember to remain free of fear!
Fear and Flow
The river flowing
Has no fear of the sea.
The Moon glowing
Has no fear of the Sun.
He will lose himself
As the sea engulfs him.
She will sink into Him
As she wanes to emptiness.
Hold on to the flow
As it meanders, ebbs floods.
Let go of the fear
It has no power to embrace.
The expansion of Love
Can never be dammed.
The brilliance of Light
Can never be dimmed.

©2025 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.
Divine, an inspired poem for the day
Contemplating the meaning of the word, Divine I explored many things that it is not. It’s an easy word to look up, to think about. Words like God, Heaven, Saint, Sage, Mystic, Beyond come to mind. These are not enough. And this poem is not enough. But it’s what I have for today:
Divine
A visit from beyond
A channeled murmur from
Some deeply hidden, unknowable
Dimension out of time.
Inspiration: an inflow
Into openness, acceptance
Trusting to wisdom
To know in time.
The dark mystery of Light
So bright it blinds
So full in demands
An expiration of Love.
It is All, it is Nothing:
Float on the gossamer wing
The insignificant complexity
The extraordinary Presence 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.
Happy? Friday: today’s poem, “Absurdity and Misery”
Rosemary held another Conversation with The Other Side last evening. The theme for everyone was to get creating! Mine from the guides, as it often is, goes like this: “I know you’re a poet, but it feels like there needs to be more of a concentration on that, Richard. No, it won’t happen until you see yourself as a poet first.”
As I was writing my daily (I try to make it daily) pages today, I did attempt to see myself as a poet. This is what I wrote out, thinking as a poet:
Absurdity and Misery
This is going to require more smiling,
More laughter.
It’s going to require looking at
The absurdity of the world,
Of life,
Of the prisons we build
For ourselves,
Then break free of them.
Laughter is the key.
A smile is a beginning:
Smile at yourself in the mirror.
Lighten up, loosen up, free up,
Sing, dance, skip and hop
On the walk.
Think silly thoughts,
Make up crazy rhymes,
Find the joy in everything.
No, this is not about hiding
From the misery;
It’s about looking deeper at it,
Realizing the absurd nature of life.
Yes, there is sadness.
There will always be sadness,
Loss, grief.
But it is all temporary;
All fades away to be replaced
With some things new.
Find the joy in the new
As the old, the sick, the dying fade.
Take the long view.
All is impermanent.
Sadness shifts to gladness
And back again.
Comfort shades to misery
Soon enough,
And fades back again.
See the smile in that.
Smile through the tears.
Shed tears of laughter
At the absurdity.
So much better to see
Laugh lines in the mirror.
Frown lines compound
The misery and bring
Other people down.
Your job is to find the joy,
And share it.

©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!

