Life is like a train, and sometimes I ride in the caboose to visit my past and speak again to that passenger named Hope.  And sometimes I ride the engine where the roar and the wind and the sheer molten passion of the heated pistons vibrate my soul and make my heart pound.  But I never ride the middle.  The middle is where people sit in proper cars for proper passengers to watch the scenery go by.  The middle isn’t what’s happening live.  The middle is cargo -- freight being carried along by life, by the moving train -- packaged by regulations and sealed in conformity and façades.  If you're trapped in the middle of the train, and you're feeling like a number on a shipping manifest you didn't authorize, maybe you need to visit the caboose or the engine.  Those two ends are really the same thing as far as freedom from being boxed in and an open-ended perspective go.  The caboose is where the engine was just moments ago.

Thanks for all the response to what I wrote about angels in December.  It seems there are angels and there are/is an Archangel.  I was trying to make the point of "angels unaware" appearing not with halos and wings all socially sanctioned but rather unrecognized and inconvenient in our lives to test whether we are worthy of the potential we were given by birth to overcome obstacles, circumstances and our own comfort zones.  Like the hero of a certain fairy tale, you have to discover your courage, brains and heart in order to reach the Emerald City of Oz!  Now Chuck Hines, in his inspiring newsletter out of North Carolina, has said something similar that I like very much.  Here is a compressed quote:

“When we look at the millions of multiverses ... the expanse of our own universe ... our immense galaxy ... our solar system ... our own planet ... or the countries, states, communities in which we happen to live ... not to mention "the things unseen" ... everything appears to be beyond our comprehension ... and certainly beyond our control … The world runs at its own pace, whether we're here or not. If you're unaware of this, log on to www.worldometers.info  to see what's happening second by second, minute by minute, as you read this.  … Is there nothing we can do, each of us individually, that can have a significant impact? I believe there is. Despite the grandiosity surrounding us, we are each one very special and utterly unique. There's no other YOU. There's no other ME. So what is our task beyond the ordinary lives we pursue on a daily basis?   … In many respects, life is a tragedy in that everyone dies in the end. The curtain falls. The audience disperses. The lights are dimmed, turned off. Darkness. And yet ... and yet ... while we're here, we can reach out…” [Chuck can be reached at waterywhiz@charter.net ]

The thing of it is, this giving doesn't have to be formalized, scheduled, slotted, or acted out on a grand scale.  If it isn't in your everyday life, you may be missing the point.  It is not just material giving, or even the giving of time.  It's how you look at the world you pass through every day.  It's the example you set by your smile, your sincerity, your interest to know, your fearless search for truth and your courage to live it.  It's your self-discipline and whether or not you optimize yourself inside and out.  It's how you treat all living things and those less aware than yourself.  It's your choices for what you do and from what or who you draw inspiration, motivation and insight.  It is your course corrections.  It is NOT resignation.  And it is very much your soulmate, if you are fortunate enough to have that rare entity.  But if you are alone or withering in a relationship, it is the strength of your individuality against surrender to something less than what you know to be within yourself.

“The winter that wasn't” has produced some strange diversions this year.  To whit: the Japanese toy known as a Kendama was all the rage in Elm Creek's rental HQ… And I’ve adopted a pet.  Oswald the trans-gender fly hatched out early on account of the warm weather.  What can I say?  He/she/it was lonely…I'm actually a pretty fair cook, if I do say so, but sometimes my imagination hits the wall.  I tried putting popcorn kernels in pancake batter, thinking it would be cool to watch it explode, but it just looked disgusting and the pancakes burned.  Maybe if I use more kernels, the pancakes will flip over by themselves…And if you’d like to make heart-shaped hard-boiled eggs for NEXT Valentine's Day: place a hard-boiled egg on a paper towel with a pencil lying flat over the top of egg, bring up the ends of the paper towel to the pencil ends and wrap with rubber bands to create downward pressure of the pencil on top of the egg.  After it cools, slice the egg and you've got heart sections…If winter won't come to me, I will go to winter, and so I’ll be hitting the Sawtooth Mtns and the Stanley Basin in Idaho soon; but before that, in a sacred inner sanctum at high noon on a high holy day in the calendar of my life, I shall revisit a place where time stands still and inspiration never ages.

My column this month is titled SORTING OUT GERONIMO IN EAST MUNGLEOPOLIS.  Here’s the link:   http://storytellersunplugged.com/thomassullivan/2012/03/15/thomas-sullivan-sorting-out-geronimo-in-east-mungleopolis/   .  Photos below include 9 shots from last year’s visit to a friend’s ranch in Idaho where I’m headed soon.  That’s Bruce skiing alone, and me with his dog Ziggy in another shot up in the Sawtooth Mtns.  This month’s Blast-from-the-Past photo is the "TS Club" from swimming & water polo days, this time as coach.  That's legendary Tommy Szuba on the right; Tom Silva & Tina Solis on the left.  Tina went on to raise horses, and her horse farm was once extensively dug up by federal agents looking for Jimmy Hoffa's body.  Finally, had an e-mail about January's Sullygram asking if Fred Bean and I were really in a flock of sheep as that photo showed.  Alas, the Western shot here is the full photo from which the sheep shot was photoshopped (say that 10 times fast).

And I'll close with deepest thanks for the astonishing volume of response from last month's Q&A column.  Clearly many readers identified with me or my soulmate.  Advice, opinions and questions crossed all borders, and I very much appreciate the feelings and frustrations you share.  Still weighing how to respond in some future Sullygram.  Meanwhile, being of Irish persuasion, I offer you some wisdom from the Emerald Isle for St. Paddy’s Day: “What fills the eye fills the heart,” and “Fortune favors the brave.”

Thomas “Sully” Sullivan

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