Poetry – #1




The mountain standing tall.

Wind blowing the trees that separate the clouds.

The freezing rain, heavy, now weighing the branches down.

Wishing for light to cast it’s share a moment longer,

Nothing inside of me could compare, be stronger.

Day fades to night.

The sky is now black.

Hoping, begging, clinging for the light to please, please, please, come back.

Little pellets against the windows have my attention drawn,

It seems like more than a lifetime away, the sun of a new day.

How do I get through the night?

How do I carry on?




Cool! I’m getting around!




This is a big one.  It must be.  This is one of the few times in my life I have created a list.  I have gone over this topic in my mind for almost a week using the word reconciliation as the ‘headline’.  Although until yesterday, I didn’t feel like a had a big enough view of the scope this word can carry.  I imagine that by the end of this piece my understanding will be much greater and hopefully that of the readers as well.  I have ten let’s say, sub-topics on this list which I’m going to use as a guide to keep a visual reference of these ideas.  Normally I don’t work this way.  I’m more of a big picture person.  Let me explain.  First I need the goal. Knowing the goal I use my (what I consider fairly vast) life experiences to ascertain the situation.  I would say that this part is pretty normal.  Now I have the goal, and the situation.  Next, obstacles.  This is my bag.  I just had an adrenaline rush thinking about it.  Bring it on!

…Entering a Challenge State psychologically…

Alright, time to put the blade down and plow.  Goal, situation, obstacles, 50% more blood pumping underneath my relaxed skin with a lowered blood pressure and increased oxygen intake…  Done.  This is all I need to create forward momentum.  I don’t need tiny low-level details to intrude with my progress.  These tiny processes creating solutions come to me instantaneously and with numerous options for overcoming these sub-obstacles.  I’m not a person that can plan out something to absolute detail to solve a problem.  To me this is a waste of time.  Every moment and every interaction in that moment can only be predicted to a certain degree.  Chaos will ensue regardless of your much committed, thought out, over-revised and time-consuming perfect plan.  Guess what, while you’re thinking about how to shovel that snow, I’ve been shoveling it.  Yeah there’s all kinds of little details like, “What if you bang into a rock or a piece of ice?”.  Well, um, I’ve kinda already…. Sorry.  Thinking will get you nowhere without action.  I can think about how hungry I am until I starve to death.  Unless of course I act and eat.  I’m able to tackle all types of problems with my pattern.  However this time I have reconciled with my normal, somewhat haphazard process and opted to take that pause in time and create a list.

Twenty-one words is what I have written.  Twenty-one words separated with nine commas and one hyphen.  Among these twenty-one words, four of them are the same.  Any guesses?  Nope.  Only one ‘the’.  Blood is the word.  I’m choosing to make this word red and will do so throughout this piece.  This is my goal.  Global Reconciliation among humans.  Did I just write that?  Global?  Yes I did because there is no other way.  Sub-goal now.  Use my energy to have every human take on the belief deep inside of them that we are all connected.  This is a must.  I will prove it to you through this boundless determination and energy that I possess.  I now believe that I have found the purpose for it.  It has been a constant guide my whole life.  An endless absorption of those around me.  The steadfast, monotonous pain when noticing the discomfort of another.  A beautiful ability to draw people out of their bubbles and explore anything and everything.

I have spent hours combining into days, with people who began as strangers to me and sometimes to each other.  These hours are spent fishing, eating, hiking, and talking.  Sometimes, and to me quite importantly there is also silence.  The phrase teach a man to fish is something that is extremely deep-seated to me.  If anyone could ever organize all the world’s leaders representing all groups of Peoples across the planet and bring them to me at Ghost River Lodges in Sioux Lookout Ontario, I could guarantee World Peace.  If I had two months with these people connecting with each other in an isolated environment we’d hash it out.  Isolated from humans perhaps and definitely from cities but enriched with the liveliness of the wild.  As well as the liveliness of me.  We’re all wild.  Some of us more than others.  When I get families, co-workers, and friends along with me in my boat or with me in the wild there is a connection that cannot be escaped.  There’s also an honesty that comes from fishing that I’m going to have to delve into another time.  Dropping a baited line into the unseen depths.  Doing what you can to attract  a connection.  Maybe deeper than any waters on the planet.  This honest connection out fishing that I’ve felt, and those who have been with me have also felt, will last beyond life and death.  These are stories that will span eternity.  Every nibble, the bump in your heart directly afterwards, now setting the hook to retrieve your catch is all different.  Frantically putting on rain gear to avoid the oncoming cloud which never comes.  Have you ever seen people dancing into rain gear in a boat?  The smile of a child when he or she sees that not only is this fishing rod being pulled around, it’s being pulled around by an animal!  A wild animal!  A wild animal that they have caught!  I’ve had children drop their rods in the boat when they see their first fish break the surface of the lake.  Whether in excitement, or disbelief it doesn’t matter to me.  It matters even less to their parents.  A connection that not only am I a part of but one I’ve helped create.  I’m now part of these people.  Part of their blood.  These  moments are only once.  In that oneness is also us.  Smiling, laughing, thanking nature and the fish for allowing this time together and with nourishment.  Mmmmmmm!  Nothing like a shore lunch!  I promise you!  Now we’re connected with the blood of the fish as well as with the eye contact and human moments.  I have also rarely come back from fishing unscathed.  My blood now a part of it.  A poke from a stiff spine from a dorsal fin on a walleye is almost unavoidable.  The razor-sharp gill plates maybe even more so.  Some of my blood has spilled now.  As we laugh, share, and eat our fish.  All of us connected now with the blood of those fish, the insects they ate in the waters that we float on and the oils from the sweet wood smoke lining our skins and our lungs.  Sharing a memory is like sharing blood.  It is now something that we have together flowing through our brains, carrying over generations and lasting forever.

Buzz..zzzzz..zzzzzzzzzz.zzap!  Mosquitoes! Ahh!  There are 64 types of mosquitoes in my province of Ontario in Canada.  There are only couple of handfuls that actually are attracted to human blood.  Among those, and with all mosquitoes as far as I can find, only the females feed on blood.  Both sexes require sugar to survive but only the females are able to draw blood.   You might be wondering where I’m going with this.  My handy outdoor lead-up didn’t hurt things.  However I’m not going to continue along that vein.  An unintentional pun.  Mosquitoes are carriers of many diseases.  Malaria being one of them.  People get malaria from mosquitoes transferring blood from infected animals and humans to others.  Last night while listening to the first of five Massey Lectures given by Lawrence Hill last year on CBC Radio One is where this connection of people with blood through mosquitoes was delivered to me.  I’ve been attacked, yes attacked, by mosquitoes and black flies for my whole life during the summers and falls.  Not once have I ever thought of the fact that animals and humans alike are connected through blood by mosquito bites.  Obviously this isn’t a transfusion capable of disrupting your blood type.  Although quite obviously a enough of a transfusion to spread diseases.  Life taking diseases.  So much in fact that when it was mosquito season (also summer) plantation owners would leave their properties to be run completely by their slaves.  Who I can imagine were mostly of African decent.  The owners wanted to completely avoid the spread of malaria all together.  At the time unknowing it was mosquitoes responsible for the vast spread of the disease.  The common thought was there was a ‘bad air’ in the summer months that plagued people.  A moral reconciliation would have had to been made on both sides.

What ever happened to blood letting?  People used to do it to try to cure sickness.  Purge their body of impurities.  Sacrificing blood for deities.  Sacrificing a life for a god.  Be it an animal or human life.  The Aztec’s claim that 10, 000-80, 400 people were sacrificed in the building of a pyramid.  It’s been done in Japan, apparently burying maidens underneath buildings to bless them.  Spilling blood and or taking a life as a gift to bless a new season or a hunting trip.  For myself, I can’t seem to work on anything mechanical without shedding some blood on the project.  I have the conviction that nothing can be fixed without spilling some.  Usually a gash or a pressure cut on my much loved hands.  I’m also a hunter.  Letting blood is something that is very important to me.  This is something that I take very seriously on many levels.  I am taking a life.  A life that I have made a tobacco offering for before I begin my hunting season.  Asking the animals for a chance to continue my life and the lives of my family, friends, and those in need with food.  The body of an amazing animal that has had an amazing life in our absolutely, and yes, amazing outdoors here in Northern Ontario.  I promise these animals during my offering that if I am given an opportunity that I will take advantage of it using my utmost respect and with all the skill that I have.  I have practiced endlessly to acquire these skills.  Become a completely efficient marksman in all terms.  A marksman with rifles as well as with a bow.  A human who becomes a stalker.  I become part of the woods.  I will ensure that I will take your life cleanly, the lives of your family cleanly.  I will use all of you that I can and share you with those who need it.  I also thank these animals for the opportunity when this special moment happens.  I have never taken an animal without it knowing I am there.  I make eye contact.  Ready myself and speak softly while positioning my weapon.  “Thank you for this opportunity.  You will be well taken care of.   Now, I have drawn your last breath from you and let loose most of your blood.  Now is our time together.  We will share this moment.  By taking your flesh into my body we are now joined by blood.”  Time to take aim and choose the moment.  The spilling of blood is sacred.  Most of the extremist behavior concerning blood letting has all left our planet.  To an extent.  Head hunting isn’t in the Kijiji hiring section last time I checked.  Although during the short life of this century and the one before, kamikaze pilots and suicide bombings are something we’re familiar with.  Pilots of Zero’s sent on one way trips to span the ocean only to have their propeller stopped by the heavy steel of a Navy ship in a dive bomb impact.  Religious fanatics committing suicide armed with a backpack or a vehicle full of explosives.  All with claim that they are the better Peoples on our planet.  Combined with their deep beliefs of gifts in the afterlife to be had because of their sacrifice.  Their form of sacred reconciliation.   Blood.  Spilled in vain.

Blood now under pressure in veins.  Preserving what is our life.  Our existence.  Trapped beneath our skin, this fluid contains our DNA.  Just like our hidden genomes our own true personalities lie buried held tightly behind our front.  I’ve talked about this before.  Unlike a cut in our skin that could drain our blood and kill us, opening a hole in your wall can only expose your greatness.  Menstruation is something that you might think I would have talked about while examining blood letting.  I see it completely differently.  If there were no menstruation there would be no life.  Aristotle wrote something along the lines of  ‘..Women are defective and must bleed because they cannot produce semen.  Men have the ability to turn blood into semen therefore women must shed excess blood…’  Also according to the great Aristotle, both parts of a new human embryo are within the mans testes.  The male in the right and the woman in the left.  The woman is only nourishment for the seed to grow.  This gave me a huge ‘enlightenbulb’.  I think that’s German by the way.  Besides what does spell check know.  Women have absolutely been persecuted for all of time!  What is wrong with us!  Seriously.  If there is any reconciliation necessary it is long overdue to women.  To be told that you’re only a vessel for a new human (which better be a man for generations) and you give nothing to the life of this being but a warm home and a meal is absolute persecution, slavery, abuse and I could go on and on.  This is insane!  Literal thoughts of men once there was language until this day contain amazing gems of hate.  If something bleeds for a week and doesn’t die from illness or other and is dramatically healed, must be something evil.  It appears to me that women have quite the ability to create blood.  If they can grow and provide everything for a new human inside of them, it is nothing less than extraordinary.  Enough blood for their own body and that of their new child.  Enough blood that contains the oxygen, adrenaline and energy to give birth to this new being.  To let it go physically severing the blood connection they have had for almost a year and create its own life.  Leaving it with the ability to make its own blood and pump it around this beautiful new body.  Leaving the mother capable of reconciling that this physical disconnection will never change that her and her new child are, and forever will be connected with and through their blood.

The ripples of The Big Bang have been recorded and measured according to scientists studying a tiny pocket of space using their Bicep2 telescope.  Isolated in the Antarctic hiding out from the well below zero Celsius temperatures watching light waves in space.  Well not exactly light waves.  More of a bend in the fabric of space due to extreme heat caused by what the scientists believe was the Big Bang.  The embryo of our existence.  Potentially another step closer to our physicists forming the almost forgotten but now sought after Unified Field Theory.  Or The Grand Field Theory depending on how you stand I suppose.  We have had genius mathematicians working on solving our planetary and universal mysteries for generations.  Most now searching for this unified theory.  We’re smashing particles together at light speed to find new particles.  Blasting them apart in a Hadron Collider to solve what?  I have an absolute belief that Peoples today and before that have had zero contact with new technology (anything electric is my basic definition) lived happy and fulfilled lives.  When and if this theory is solved would mean nothing to a Buddhist monk searching for true enlightenment.  Furthermore, like gravity still is today, this will more than likely still be a theory!  As much as I’m enthralled by physics I’m way more interested in a UFP.  A Unified People Planet.  The philosophers and utopians of the world need their own particle accelerator.  One that is able to crash good energies into each other and explode them into finding new ways of connecting.  We might need some help from a few scientists for that one.

Shall we reconcile ourselves to one day soon realize the more physical and digital inanimate objects we create and fill our lives with, the more emotionally disconnected we are from ourselves and those around us.  Disconnecting emotionally from people and feeling like we’re able to transfer all of our being through a hand-held electronic device is pulling you away from yourself.  A true connection between humans in real life will spread faster than any virus that other kinds of scientists could ever invent.  Without a doubt using this vast entity of the internet to spread word and support some connection will be key.  But I promise you it means nothing without actually using your warm blood to move your beautiful body to someone in your life and create a connection.  Knowing inside that the only true way harmony can ever work is inside ourselves.  Even if you have been hurt, emotionally battered, or blood drawn and an apology has been given to you, the only way it will work is if you truly are able to have settlement with yourself.  Without blame meanwhile owning your own mistakes deep in your thoughts, beliefs and yes of course, your blood

Reconciliation could be our own philosophical unified theory.  Blast this energy around with those who are close to you and those who you wish were closer.  You might get lucky with your baited line dangling out there.  Be patient, calm, attentive.  You too will be able to teach another to fish once you have learned yourself.

Once again I thank you so much for your valued time.  Mail me, find me on twitter, or leave a comment.  Please share your stories of reconciliation with me.


Yours truly,


Justin B.




A word that is use a lot as of late.  Used publicly by companies, organizations, governments, politicians, and I’m assuming it’s been used by the religious faiths having issues with child abuse in their places of sanctuary.  A word now frequently used to establish trust.  When I think of transparency my immediate memory flash brings me to childhood.  Shields and force-fields.  Invisible layers that safeguard what ever it envelopes.   Even while secured by this field of energy you are able to see clearly through it, allowing a full view of the protected.  An uninhibited, transparent view.  No need to ask permission.  Unnecessary to submit a request to take a look.  This is not how I’m seeing it applied.

Metadata, black boxes, passwords, and a clear divestment from a one on one, physical, personal connection.  Does a selfie truly do you justice?  I could personally care less whether or not General Motors is paying, or has paid off  its bail-out loans.  They knew about problems with vehicles that control ignition and steering for how long?  Medical recalls my own government can’t even control?  Bargaining with these so-called transparent companies for financial restitution and an ‘I’m sorry’ that seems all to late in my opinionated, um, opinion.

Whatever happened to personal ownership?  Self acceptance when you as a sentient being realize that something you have done is wrong.  When I say wrong I’m referring to a basic moral injustice.  I might have just opened up the biggest gray area I could ever try to elaborate on with that statement.  Although at the same time I can’t help but feel that it’s fairly simple and concise.  Did that action harm someone else?  One of these other great humans we’re all breathing with…  Light bulb!  Well maybe…  We share 30 Hour Famine and other world events.  What kind of energy could we create if we held a simultaneous global meditation.  Social media it up.   Millions of us all breathing in, breathing out together.  Thinking of kindness and warmth.  Could you see it from space?  Would you say hello to a stranger in line at the grocery store?  The immigrant behind the cash register?  Where are you from?  How is your day going?  Little connections we’re all creating on social media when we’re physically apart seem astonishingly far from the norm when we’re at the mall or with our dogs at the off leash park.  Sharing space with other people is undeniably something that is not going anywhere.  I promise you that it is just as easy to have a smile and a chat then get angry when you bring up a bag of onions with no tag on it and the new young man assisting you in purchasing your products doesn’t know the code.  The person behind you is annoyed and the deer in headlights is shaking as he dials the phone to get what he needs.  A smile is the only thing I would order from McDonald’s.  That’s the kind of nourishment that will last a lifetime.

Those of us with mental health issues and the people close who are helping us, all need to have transparency.  The transparency that defines a small group who are able to truly laugh at themselves.  True humility is one with true honesty.  How can we grow if we trap ourselves in such small rooms.  The sky is the limit.  Although holding back the curtain and peering through the window can claim a certain comfort,  a gentle brush of the breeze across your skin, and the subtle notes teasing your nose can’t help but create a craving.  It’s so bright.  Clear.  Shadows are non-existent.  Re-learning what our eyes allow us to see.  Reclaiming what is rightfully ours.  Emotional freedom.

So why the shield?  Which of us is wearing it?  Does it enclose my room?  Has it surrounded the outside?  But its crystal.  No. Transparent.  Is it really there?  Something that is clear to me, is that breaking through requires energy.  Physics would say an equal amount of energy is needed to just suppress the outside force.  Even a small amount more energy on either side will start to tip the scales.  So let me re-frame a bit.  Focus on why the shield.  Instinctively all of us will protect ourselves.  Immediately two people, two shields.  I’m going to hypothesize, that again, instinctively, if I say that a small amount of energy is all we need to drop a shield.  Give both people the same amount of energy to use, it will be used offensively to push through the opposing.  Those of us with humility would perhaps use that energy to disable our own shield.  Not only with humility do we get honesty, but trust is right behind.  Now blow this up.  Maybe I’m on my way to creating an office ice breaking utility here.  Maybe I’m out of my depth.  100 people with 100 balloons and 100 pins.  Inside your own balloon a truth about yourself.  An internal confession.  Pop another persons balloon and give away your pin, keeping your un-popped balloon as well as your hidden honesty.  Pop your own and keep your truth, pinning it to your chest.  Those left with balloons on one side of the room and those without on the other.  How many people chose to keep their shield, their balloon, by popping one and giving away their energy, the pin. Also keeping to themselves their truth and keeping the truths of the others from them.  Which group would feel more connected to each other.  I would love to see which group would be bigger.  What if all but one popped their balloon?  Before that one person is left with their balloon, pin, confession, and a decision to be made.

Small social chit-chat and ‘unimportant’ conversation about the weather and daily news is what we’re all missing.  Would you like me more if I had an iSomethingorother?  I’m not sure if I’d like you more because I conform to judgement.  I’m quite certain, in fact, I will like myself much less.  It’s so much easier to fit in if what you’re trying to ‘fit into’ is yourself.  We all want to be a part of something to make us feel connected.  I believe that something is strangers.  Pop your own balloon.  Disable that shield.  You now have potential kinetic energy.  With that shield gone why not use that kinetic energy to push forward.  You’ve turned the handle and opened the door.  There is quite a few of us out here in the sunshine with you.  I promise.  We can hold your hand and take you out of the shadows.  All with extra energy to share and help pull out others into our light.  Our humility, honesty, and truth guiding us along.  Do I sound like an organic hippie?  Good.  It’s one of my small confessions that I’ve excruciatingly gone out-of-the-way to fill my piece of paper with.  Both sides.  It might take a magnifying glass to get some of that small print, but I’m here waiting.  Patiently.  Get as close as you like to read it.   I wrote so small on purpose to be sure I had enough time to read yours.  Share a hug with me and you’ll find Thank You written firmly in ink across my shoulders.  Spread the word.  I like hugs.

Once again, I have to thank you for your time.  In doing so I’m gonna steal one more minute and ask you to share a small piece of your time with someone else.  Someone you don’t know.  Let that person know they exist.  For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction and I promise you will feel like you exist that much more too.  Try it again tomorrow, let it see where it takes you.  Don’t be embarrassed if you drop your keys or slip on the ice.  Laugh it off, look around and try to find one of us who’s smiling with you.  Maybe if you’re single you could even use a hand wiping the snow off your bum.

Love one and all.  It will truly be lovely.  Thanks again for sharing with me and I’ll be back soon,

Yours truly,

Justin B.



Coffee.  Check.

Moderately medicated.  Check.

Dose of CBC radio one.  Check and continuing.  Unless of course it diverts from great programming to cover that massively over-advertised thing in Russia.  I hope that isn’t disrespecting any Olympians, potential Olympians, or athletes of any kind.  My underlying assumption is that those who love and are in love with a sport, and themselves in that sport, enjoy pushing to the brink of breaking mentally and physically with the determined goal of achieving a greater personal oneness and success.  Much like Buddhist Monks, I like to think they would do this without any media coverage whatsoever.  The thrill of feeling that all the time you have devoted inside and out has allowed you to manipulate that one muscle, group of muscles, to absolute perfection.  Your timing impeccable, an almost ‘matrix’ like zone taking over you.  Heightened to a point of pure elation.  High on adrenaline.  Exhausted.   Now to do it better…

Getting myself going on the writing front so I can pursue my determined goal.  Check.

I can most definitely believe that I won’t be receiving an Olympic medal for my endeavor’s here on WordPress, but one post a week is a pretty decent effort on my part.  Now I have a fresh cup of coffee almost finished brewing and Jian Ghomeshi has finished his monologue.  Once again never letting me down with a great episode full of perspective to look forward to while I give this a go.

I’ve filled the tank and got the car running but I’m still not sure how to quite get it in gear.  I have had a week to think of what to write today.  I don’t feel like I over thought it.  Feeling anxious about it, yes.  What don’t I feel anxious about doing?

There it is!  I knew if I just kept writing I’d find it.

What don’t I feel anxious about doing?

Recent life changes have left me alone a lot.  The past two months I have been almost exclusively alone.  This is normally something I would not be anxious about.  The polar opposite in fact.  I am an introvert.  Maybe was an introvert is more accurate.  I used to relish in solitude.  Although when I would isolate myself from people, I would draw myself into nature.  Nature in its outdoor wild glory is something I understand and connect to.  This is a place for me where I am in the moment.  All of me.  I feel every molecule of every breath.  Taste and smell everything around me.  The freshness of the morning dew.  The sticks and leaves on the ground below slowly decomposing into humus.  Acidic yet sweet is the smell of meticulously rotting pieces.  Pieces that used to be a part of this living forest.  My heart beating calm and sure.  I am relaxed throughout.  I can hear squirrels and small birds rustling and flipping through the branches.  Feel the air pressure against my completely aware skin.  Molding myself into the wild and all at once letting the wild flood and mold itself into me.  Picturing myself working my way through the trees, across streams and valleys.  Beginning at a walking pace and moving the branches in my way aside.  With the weight of a steam-powered locomotive I’m accelerating.  Branches are clearing themselves.  Now at an uncontrollable speed, entering deeper and deeper into the wild.  Into myself.  I can see it ahead.  Where is this energy coming from I think to myself as I push harder.  The edge is there, stopping is not an option.  I give in and explode into flight.  Blasting and soaring through forest and river, my body and mind.

I Live.  I Have Life.

Impenetrable.  Relentless.  If I ever used a thesaurus I probably couldn’t be stopped.  Just a couple of ways I can describe myself when I am in control.  ‘Genghis Khan would fear me if I rode in his time.’, something I tell myself when I’m on top.  As of late I find it hard to even derive a small amount of those feelings when I’m in my element.  Stresses, doubt, exhaustion are all creeping in.  Taking the steam right out of me.  Almost exponentially able to turn it around and use it against me.  ‘Go away.’, I tell myself.  ‘I don’t need you.’  What am I doing anyways.  That’s right, I’m pulling wood, cutting wood, or chopping wood.  Don’t forget about the shoveling.  How can something so clean and beautiful as snowflakes become so depressing?

Mindfulness has been extremely important for me over the last few weeks in particular.  Directing my mind to focus on my body has been the basic one.  All the way to going outside in boots and boxers until all I could think was, ‘Holy **** I’m cold!’.  Trouble sleeping, breathe in, breathe out.  Repeat.

I’ve made 30+ revisions on this post and had an overly stressful morning and last night.  I am absolutely thrilled with myself that I am able to complete what I think is another well thought out organization of words and punctuation.  I’m going to take the next 30 seconds or so, or as long as it lasts, to congratulate myself for accomplishing my post.  Doing this type of exercise actually will help to re-wire your brain to think positively.  Cognitive Behavior Therapy.  A must use for more than likely anybody with a brain and blood.  Promote it, use it.  Mindfulness is a big one.  Being in the moment can be quite difficult but regrets of missing out are even worse.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this.  I’m a newbie to the writing game and welcome any comments at all.  In a week or less I’ll be here again.

Thanks again for reading me.  Saying see you again,

Justin B.