Sometimes it is harder not to see the leaves falling. No matter how much you try to stay in the summertime the autumn comes. And it becomes not a matter of attempting to be in the present, not a matter of should... but a matter of not being able to. If you haven't done a little practicing it can take your breath away. Of course you miss out on your life if you are focused on anything besides what is in front of you. I think we all know that. But I also think we know that you just can't help it. The mind travels too fast to cage. And if you can, like a butterfly, it tends to lose it's magic. But then the leaves fall. You see the gray hair in the mirror in the morning. You start to forget the sound of someones voice. You just can't help but notice that life is short, and getting shorter everyday. This thing we share is amazing. It hurts, it makes us laugh, and it makes us reverent. While I don't put much stock in shoulds, it is hard not to make a recommendation: Take a breath. Open your eyes. Watch the the leaves fall. And smile.

When it comes to possible experience, there is so much in any direction it is almost overwhelming. Sometimes it feels like I want to catch up and experience everything I have missed. The reality I suppose is that choices determine the stories we collect, and nobody can collect them all. We can only walk one direction at a time. That is okay. What is important is to value and experience each story as it unfolds. Without presence, there is no quality to the world. We must demand to soak in every last detail of the life we surround ourselves with. We must take it in to ourselves, and allow it to reside in our character. And when the next decision presents itself, we will be ready for the direction we travel next.

Today, I am headed to Golden Gate Park.

It is difficult to imagine the potential for change in people, and in general. Black swans exist. And not only do they exist, but sometimes they change from black to white. As I walk around on the streets of downtown San Francisco I am impressed by the amount of wealth, and poverty sharing the sidewalks. What impresses me more is living in a place where it really is possible, although difficult, to go from one extreme to another.

Of course it is easy to discount my own metamorphosis because of luck, and the hard work of others. Still, I recognize that it hasn't all been handed to me. I had to learn some skills to be able to walk around in these clothes and pull it off. It isn't so different in that respect to the life I lived before.

Once again, this narrative is not about me, but I must filter the observations I make through something, and in most cases it is my own experience. This is especially the case because my education is of the experiential variety. As I look around at all the different people on the streets outside my hotel, I see how close we all really are. Last night I offered a beggar a dollar to take his photograph. He refused to do it for one dollar. He demanded two. At first, I thought to myself that he was in no position to be so choosy. However, upon a little reflection, I realize he is in exactly that position. I applaud him for it. At some point, an opportunity may present itself to this man. If he doesn't let himself get sold short, he may just fall in to a better situation.

When you hear about someone else's struggles with relationships, or just growing up, it tends to comfort.
Today is still summer in boise. It has matured. The warmth is ripe, aged of a season. And it is comfortable. The dreams of the summer are accomplished or abandoned. Maybe next year is okay today. Downtown is not concerned with who is there, only happy for the company.
My neighborhood is heavy with full leaves, and the lawns are stretching out to sleep for the winter. Everything is okay, and none of the smiles seem false.
The love of the springtime is accepted as a part of the past and a hope for the future once again. No one has a broken heart, and the resentments are mere nostalgic smiles at our own silly hangups. Life is life outside today, just as it is.
And we are all beautiful.

Life is at hand.

Things are occurring.

For once.

And time is apparent.

Right here,

outside.

The neighborhood was full of smiles this weekend. Old friends met new ones, smiles were met with more. There were scores of hula hoopers dancing to bluegrass in Camel's Back. The music made everybody dance. And whoever was there, got to be a part of it.

Some days it is impossible not to be grateful.

Do over

The last time for the fair, I couldn't see. Clouded with conflict. Trying to be. And last night, vindication at every glance, every scent, every eye.

The park was beautiful. The people were open, exposed, and smiling.

Swaying to the music, and breathing community. I felt like a hippy, seeing everyone love each other with smiles and consent.

Built to spill, arms wrapped around my past. Holding on to my future, and loving the in between. Amazing.

So today, more music, more people, more opportunity. People will miss it. I have. But not today. I am right here. Right in Boise.