Advancing . . .

With advancement of time
And preferably some wisdom
I have learned to relax; feel less stress
Play the system

There are no extra people
To fawn or to please
I've become my own man
Life I now cope with considerable ease

But good things come, they say,
Each with price all their own
And the progress of years
Bringing things of seeds sown

I prefer though, to remain
On the bright and offensive
Taking tacks realistic
Yet inconveniently extensive

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Roads . . .

. . . more and less traveled . . .



People talk about all kinds of things
Like the weather
Like their politics
Like the things that they watch on TV
But still the roads diverge

Funny though all this chatter don't mean a thing
When compared with the wondering
When they speak of just how
The roads diverge

There comes a moment
You’re suddenly face with a choice
All that you thought that you
Knew becomes smoke
And all of your detailed and
Best laid-out plans
Have become just one
Great big joke

Some will cope
Some will agonize endlessly
Pleading take this away from me
This decision I face
When roads diverge


Less Traveled
based upon Roads Diverge ©2014 Raymond M. Jozwiak

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(To Access all Ray Jozwiak - Gonzo Piano music you can copy-and-paste this URL directly to
your browser:  http://www.cdbaby.com/Artist/RayJozwiak)

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Watch The Ocean City Ditty Video on YouTube
Also, be sure to visit: www.rayjozwiak.com and www.ohomusic.com

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Here I am . . .

. . . again.  On the crest of another Monday morning.

A dear friend fighting for life. . . want to help
A respite from a dull, cursory week was welcome, and now over
Hot, steamy conditions with which to cope, and with which I have little problem.  (No shovels required)
Good conversation with my west-coast son
Exhilarating workouts at the keyboard
Stressful coping with the 'critical' element
Progress made in the creative direction
Another future opportunity to make some joyful noise for friends and their family
Wonderful meals and time with my loved one (and ones)
But here comes that Monday again. . .

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Photogenic . . .

. . . don't you think?

No, this is not a Baltimore city sewer system resident.  This is the world renowned Punxsutawney Phil and maybe it's just a little early to talk about the groundhog or what he implies/represents, I just can't seem to help myself.


As I've grown older, I seem to cope progressively more poorly with winter weather.  I don't remember exactly when it began but I would guess something like almost thirty years ago.  It probably reached a plateau about five years ago, at which time I vowed to myself to minimize the whole thing in my mind and just cope with it as best I can or . . . no . . . better.

I believe I made some honest progress on that front and even this year in particular I try NOT to complain about cold, snow, heavy winter clothing, snow, shoveling snow, pulling muscles while shoveling snow . . . NONE OF THAT!

But as I sit here at 6AM wondering what to write and hearing that the temperature today will actually reach well into the 50s (F), my icy hands and dog-cold nose (even with the heat ON) are making me pine for warmer weather.

But I honestly and sincerely promise that I will just buck-up and not complain.

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Oh God. . .

". . . Prayer, I would later surmise, was something like an experience of ritual hypnosis. While everyone said the words, no one was expected to believe them. Religious rituals, I was beginning to learn, were defined as part of the human need to deny, to cope and to pretend that all of these techniques are useful when reality presents us with something that is beyond our ability to manage emotionally. At this point in my life, I simply could not separate the human need to pretend from the human search for truth. Organized religion would also forever fuzz over that distinction.
(from Eternal Life: A New Vision by John Shelby Spong © 2009 by John Shelby Spong)




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