Getting to the point.
Looking at the ceiling and hearing a voice across the room.
" I can hear the anger in my voice, but I don't feel angry. It is the old parent voice that has to get things done and everyone in line"

Think and listening.

We use a hammer to beat a nail into submission, to break down a wall, to hammer something into place. Force and compliance from anger and fear that is what is used.

Sometimes we find a door or gate that is locked. What we grab is the hammer, since we are used to using it, instead of reaching for a key.

I have been spending time increasing my selection of keys.

Maybe our community, state, national, and world leaders could start using a key instead of a hammer.
It always starts with each of us making the choice.

Here we go.
Lawn Blowers have to be some type of message. Looking at aspects of our life on a day to day basis we see things that make sense; either crazy sense or common sense. Of course there are the times when things seem to make absolutely no sense at all.
Blowers that the lawn workers use, or my neighbor uses.
In my mind cleaning is about removing the dirt, debris, stains, drips, drops, splatters, and stuff that is untidy or in the way.
Blowers just blow things around, the yard may look good but really the blown debris is just blown in the street or over to a unsuspecting neighbor. The wind comes up, a car or truck whooshes by and the debris is back. Sometimes the debris is pushed in cracks, against plants, walls , or fences. To me it would be like using a weed blower in my Garage or house..just stirs stuff up, and pushes stuff out of sight...for a while.
I guess the weed blower creates job security for yard maintenance crews,for home owners it offers empowerment of pushing things around or a form of revenge on a neighbor.

With a blower, the chances are what you blow away now, will be blown back later.

I get debris in my mind. You know like I ought to do this, or I shouldn't have done that, and other random thoughts. My weed blower is to read a book or watch a movie. I watch or read and when I am done the thoughts are back.
I want a vacuum not a blower. Vacuum that mind trash up and send it to the dump.

Where the land ends and the sea begins is an area, in some instances, of beach.

Beaches are where the ocean, in tidal rythm, surge on to the land and then, retreat. It is a neither-land. Never staying dry for a full 24 hour, and never staying wet. It is a transition point where some enter for food and some exit for warmth, and give birth.
It is where sand castles are washed away and, in the heat of summer, we lounge, with an occasional dip in the primordial bath.

In us is a "sea". We, like our home, are about 72% water, salty water. We, like the sea, move in ebb and flow.
We change like the sea and, at the same time, stay the same, like the sea.

Where is our beach? Where do we ebb and flow with the world. Do we have a "beach" or are we like a sea wall, or cliffs that reject the seas advance. Or are we an "ocean" in search of a beach?

I think I will go to the beach today.
It would be great to meet you there.

Salty Paul ran a Monterey Hull fishing boat off the West Coast. Heavy set with a broad smile and humor to match. He'd been a sea scout, wrestled in high school, and gone on to receive an advanced degree in mircobiology. Yet the call of the sea won his heart.

Early morning on the big blue. We are sitting on the bow. The water liquid jade and smooth as well oiled glass. The warmly colored sky tinted by the rising sun. No breeze and air as still as the quiet.

Puffins flanked the boat like dark feathered porpoises riding the sturdy boat's wake.

The soft muffled thump of the diesel pushed the bow effortlessly.
Paul brought coffee from the wheel house. No one was steering except "Iron mike".

Iron mike the automatic steering system.

Some days I feel like Iron Mike is with me. Walking down the street I expect to see puffins riding my bow wake.

May puffins ride your bow wake today as Iron Mike moves you through the ocean of life.

What was said?
How can we be heard if the person who is supposed to be listening to us is occupied with what they will say next?
How do we know if people hear what we are saying?
Have you ever had a conversation with someone who you disagree with who insists you agree with them?
You say you disagree, and they say, "Your not listening!".
Whoa! Who needs to be accountable there?

Communication is about knowing our reservations and not letting them color what others tell us. Not to say we have to believe what people tell us but to hear the message.
Hearing the message is about be accountable for asking for clarity if needed.
Unconscious reservations are like being booked on a ocean cruise of uncertainty by a travel agent who hates the ocean.

Being open and clear we communicate more than mere words.